#last of this miniseries finally! i finished it

[en-scribed]

CENTER OF THE WORLD [fantasy short story]

Personified immortal Stars have lived secretly on Earth throughout history. This piece takes place in 16th century Florence, right at the brink of the Copernican Revolution. Sol, the beloved sun king, is presented with an endless battle and an impossible choice. The Stars' world was created by myself and @heirmyst. Previous post: [THE THREE BIRDS] [ORION'S FINEST] [GATHERER OF GRAIN] Word count: 4,453

The air grew colder by the moment as the sun set. Sol, soaring through the overcast sky, had to stamp down the instinct to burn brighter. Instantly, as daylight faded, the flight grew tedious, but not because of the cold. Sol hastened his wingbeats to reach his destination sooner; anything to stop having to dim his flames.

Finally, he descended into the old Medici palace’s chapel, only letting the protective cloaking field drop once the walls securely surrounded him.

Beaming, he spread his arms, ready to receive his fellow Stars. “I am here!” 

His flight-blurred vision cleared, only to reveal… nothing. The cavernous space of the chapel only echoed back his own words.

And the sound of a loose page turning. 

Sol walked toward the steady, calming light that radiated from an opposite corner. Cann sat alone, hunched against a wall in a way that couldn’t have possibly been comfortable for their wings and engrossed in a bound tome.

“I said,” Sol repeated, with greater enunciation, now that he spoke only to one fellow Star. “I have arrived!” 

“I can see that, my king,” Cann said mildly, without looking up from their book. “I heard you the first time, and knew you were coming well before then.”

He stiffened. “Did I fail to disguise my light enough?” 

“Oh no, it was more than enough for the mortals,” Cann said with a laugh, their eyes glowing with lavender flame to make the point. “But there’s no hiding from me.”

Sol sighed. He folded his wings back down and leaned against the pillar facing the other Star. “Where are the others, Canopus?”

Cann shushed him, impatient. “I’m almost done!” 

“Is it truly that riveting?” Sol asked flatly. “You read too much.” 

Cann didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding to the remark, or even acknowledging that they heard it. They simply flipped through the last fifty pages in the span of a few minutes and put it aside. Finally meeting Sol’s eyes with the utmost seriousness, they said, “No such thing as reading too much.”

“There is for you!” Sol argued. “You can know anything without lifting a finger. What use would you have for mortal books?” Absently, he picked it up, ready to cast it aside before the words on the cover caught his eye. It read, On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres.

“For one,” Cann said, smiling, “It’s an invaluable resource on keeping up with the mortals. I know what I know, but it’s useful to keep a finger on the pulse of what they know.”

Sol found himself leaning forward. “And… what do they know?”

“It appears that one of them has taken a shot in the dark.” They held a palm out and produced a small pocket illusion; two spinning orbs, one large and golden, the other small and blue. “He has come to the revelation that the Earth revolves around the sun, not the other way around.” 

Before Sol knew it, he was perusing the book. The words blended together, but the diagrams scattered throughout held his attention. He vaguely remembered secret keeper al-Tusi and the rest of the observatory students in Iran shoving quaint pictures in his face, some near identical to the ones in this tome. Somehow, their legacy had carried itself to a mind several lands away.

“How did the astronomers of the caliphates never come to this?” Sol asked.

“A misguided question,” Cann said, ending the illusory demonstration. “You cannot judge them by the standards we have because of what we know, especially because they were brilliant on their own terms. I believe you would be better served asking why this man did make this departure.”

But Sol’s mind did not have the space to ponder Cann’s philosophical proposals. Basking in the satisfaction of finally having his centrality out in the open, no matter how fringe this mortal’s reach might have been, was too momentous to be disrupted by anything else. 

He caught Cann’s wry, knowing stare and tossed the book back to them. “As if I needed the humans to tell me what we’ve always known,” he said, trying his best to wipe the smile off his face. “Well, leaving that… why have I returned to an empty palace tonight?” 

Cann stood, smoothly snapping to attention. “Hauntings have decided, very unwisely, to camp outside the city walls. A show of force, I gather. The others have flown out to neutralize the flock.”

“All of them?” Sol asked, surprised. “Even Sirius?”

“Especially Sirius,” Cann corrected. “Vega insisted upon having him. You know how they get when the other side of fate’s scales tips even an inch downward.”

Sol nodded proudly. “North Star V never misses,” he said. “Still. How have they not asked you to join?”

“We aren’t that desperate just yet,” Cann said lightly. “Some blasts need to be held close to the chest.”

On cue, colorful flames lit up the chapel’s entrance. As Sol hastened to adjust his crown and take his place on the steps, Cann strode forth to meet the Stars. The group, freshly out of battle, frantically scrambled to make their various reports known. V shoved their way to the front of the group, buzzing with urgent blue lightning, but at the sight of Cann, considerably relaxed. 

Placing a sympathetic hand on Cann’s shoulder, V said, “I wish you only the absolute best of luck.”

Cann only blinked at them, confused. “For what?”

“My king!” Alpha Pavonis’ cry rose above the other Stars’ chattering, catching Sol’s ear. “May I have a word?” 

Before Sol could open his mouth, Cyon sprang to hold Alpha Pavonis back. “Oh, don’t you dare!” she yelled. “You do not get to skip your way directly to the king, Pav. This is unacceptable!”

The two continued to struggle against each other, the arguing punctuated by warning blasts. V turned to Cann. “Enjoy dealing with that,” they said. “I’m going to do away with the debris from the latest flock.”

“Wait, the latest flock? Vega!” Cann protested, grabbing for their hand, but V was too fast, making a quick exit in a flash of lightning. Cann gestured wildly in Sol’s direction. 

“Stars, silence!” Sol commanded. Instantly, the room quietened. Cyon had managed to pin Pav to the marble floor, before she was pulled to her feet by Sirius, who whispered calming words to her. Satisfied, Sol made his way down the steps. “Bring forth your reports one at a time.” 

“Affirmative,” Cyon said, dropping Sirius’ gloved hand and walking toward Sol. “You see, the matter at hand is that Alpha Pav—”

Sol held up a hand to stop her. “Now, if you will begin by recounting a fellow Star’s argument, I would rather hear it from the source themself.” He glanced at Pav, who was getting back on their feet. “The sky is yours, Alpha Pavonis.”

“Ah… thank you?” Pav stammered out. Quickly regaining composure, They stood tall and trailed their peacock hued robes behind them. “My king, as I’m certain you have gathered from the North Star’s words, we have not one Haunting flock on our hands, but a ready, almost endless queue. Every time we neutralized one at the walls, another rose to take its place. We slowed it down, and even then, Vega might meet another while they’re gone.”

“Are you implying we are low on firepower?” Sol asked. “Has Sirius’ deployment not eased any such concerns?”

“Yes, but—”

“Yes, and,” Cyon corrected sharply. “Show some respect.” Beside her, Sol could have sworn he saw Sirius grinning under the cover of his mask. 

Pav glared at the two, but went on undeterred. “Why continue the grueling task of taking them out one by one, when we have what it takes to frighten them off for good?”

They paused, as if their implication was obvious. Sol glanced back at Cann, who only shrugged. They were as confused as he was. 

“Explain yourself,” Sol said. 

“Why… we have you, my king.” Pav said. “If you send a warning using the most magnificent celestial body in the sky, they’d be forced to take heed, yes?”

“Sol,” Cann began, warningly. “This proposal is too ambitious for its own good.”

“You’ve spoken above your station more than enough, Pav!” Cyon piped up. 

“Sirius,” Sol said. “Please restrain your wife.” 

“Of course, my king!” Sirius’ constant flames brightened as he reached for Cyon’s arm. “Regardless, for the benefit of the court, Pav’s suggestion would be a severe violation of our arrangements with the Medici. Any unforeseen celestial events here will be seen by the entire population of Florence, and we could be—”

“Cyon,” Sol cut in, already tired. “Please silence your wife.”

“Heard loud and clear, my king.” But she was still glaring daggers at Pav, who was looking back at her with presumptuous, smug satisfaction. Sirius was barely managing to hold her back from attacking again.

Sol decided he had no time for this. “Cann!”

Cann stepped forward, wings and arms spread to usher everyone out of the room. “Say no more. Because no one here is my wife.”

“Your loss,” Sirius said, and collective airy laughter echoed around the chapel.

Sol let himself breathe, relieved by the tension dissolving. Sirius laced his fingers through Cyon’s and led her out of the room. The other Stars swiftly followed them, their conversations now far more lighthearted. Only Pav lingered behind, slow to budge. Sol took a tentative step toward them.

“That means you too, Alpha Pavonis!” Cann ordered, cutting any action short now that Pav had no choice but to listen. “Move!” 

“All of your concerns have been heard!” Sol promised the exiting Stars. “Allow me until the next sunrise. We will proceed only with what is best for you!”

“You heard him, next sunrise!” Cann repeated for emphasis. “For skies’ sake, don’t let me catch any of you out of your quarters before then. I will know!” 

Once everyone else left the hearing range, Sol sank into the altar seat, gripping the crown on his head tightly between his hands. He only had some hours to figure this out, and failures awaited him in every direction; which of them would be less shameful to bear? 

Cann cleared their throat. “Is everything alright?” they asked, the calculated performance of the king’s advisor flawlessly shifting to the softness of a friend. 

Sol tried to smile back, but it felt hollow. It always did when he was with Cann. And yet, even as he knew there was no use, he found himself saying, “Yes. Hauntings and mortals have never stopped us before. This is an inconsequential matter.”

Cann raised an eyebrow. They both knew full well nothing involving the sun could ever be inconsequential to Stardom. 

“I… must think this over,” Sol said. “Alone.”

“If you say so,” Cann said easily, no trace of accusation in their voice. Sol watched them gratefully as they marched out of the chapel without another word. He loved it when they played along this way; it almost lulled him into the false comfort of thinking something could get past their sharp, all-seeing eyes. 

With no one except his own light for company, Sol mulled over the decision, thinking about every angle hard enough for flames to rise his fingers, carelessly scorching the wooden chair. Skies above, fragile human furniture was a pain.

He stood, hating how he couldn’t even claim ownership to the walls around him. Resentfully, he let his gaze drift over the painted frescos surrounding him, scenes of mortal processions and hunts. He’d find the pomp endearing if it wasn’t so offensive right then. These were the beings he and his people had to hide from? When would they wake up to the truth that the Stars outshone them in every way?

Except… His stroll through the hall finally came to Cann’s forgotten pile of books. On top rested the one that spoke of the sun’s centrality. 

Some already had woken up, hadn’t they?

Coming to a decision, Sol walked out of the chapel, steps as delicate as air. He could not sit idly. The lurkers thought they were out of reach, with their clever queue rotation, but Pav was right; they’d run at the first sight of Sol. He weaved through the palace corridors and bypassed the nearest window in a flash of light. 

Veiling his fire as well as he could given the stark contrast against night, he fluttered carefully into the air. 

Lightning struck the palace roof; V had arrived, landing unsteadily against the rough masonry. Sol moved instinctively, backing himself against the nearest wall to hide. Did they have to return just as he was leaving?

“Vega?” Sirius’ voice floated in, his footsteps rushing to join them. “Did you manage the mess? The wall remains untouched, yes?”

Catching their breath, V laughed. “Managed,” they repeated bitterly, with a break in their voice that made Sol worry. Were they hurt? “Guess who came to taunt me when I went to clean up?”

Sirius sighed. “Another encampment?”

“I don’t know where they keep coming from! It’s as if they can’t leave the walls unoccupied for even a wingbeat, the stubborn fucks.” 

“We outdo their stubborness, then,” Sirius said, his voice far less confident than the words. Sol’s heart sank; his strongest soldiers were battling themselves to exhaustion, all for the feeble, sheltered minds of this city’s mortals. “We need a plan of action. Between Pav and Cyon, whom do you think—” 

“Stop,” V cut in, irritated. “Your nonsense infighting can wait until sunrise. We aren’t even supposed to be out of our quarters. In, now!” 

Their footsteps and further conversation faded. If Sol’s resolve ever faltered during his exit, this hardened it beyond return. The Hauntings’ intimidation tactic could not be allowed to stand anymore.

Letting the anger fuel him forward, Sol set a course straight for Florence’s walls.

The closer he flew to the edges of the city, the murkier the sky became. Too soon, every precious star adorning the cloak of night disappeared, and he had nothing to glance up at for strength.

Enough, he thought to himself, steeling his nerves. It is I who must give them strength now. 

The weight of the blotted sky burdening his every wingbeat, Sol arrived quietly to the scene of the northern gate. Below, three Hauntings lay in wait on burned grass. Sol didn’t know it was possible to make nighttime even darker; these sentient black holes masquerading as earthly creatures always proved him wrong. He set his feet down on the wall’s brick facade, stepped off the end, and let his light burst forth. 

“Leave these walls!” he yelled.

Immediately, high whistles rang out as the Hauntings rushed into formation. One of the quicker front soldiers, clam-like in shape, launched a black-stained pearl the size of a boulder. 

Sol braced himself, burning hands ready to intercept it… but the hit never came.

Just as the cannonball corralled to knock into Sol, he was on the ground, untouched, the pearl dropping unceremoniously a few feet away from him. The Hauntings froze, confused, inadvertently allowing him a moment to regain his bearings. 

Enough to see that the stained pearl now glowed lavender.

Keeping a flame at the ready to ward off the Hauntings, Sol looked up at the wall behind him and yelled, “Cann!” 

On command, a head emerged at the top. Cann peeked down. “My king,” they greeted, not bothering to sound the slightest bit chastened. 

“What are you doing here?” Sol asked. The clam Haunting unwisely decided to rush him. Sol’s flame cut him down in an instant. “Out of your quarters, at this hour?” 

“I could be asking you the same thing!” Cann swooped down at the last word, tackling both remaining Hauntings at once. “Did you think you could hide from me?” Even as they punctuated each word with a calculated strike, Sol got the feeling the anger in their voice was not for the creatures. “Or did you want me to graciously look away, as you crept off to this endless fight?”

Successfully, Cann brought a frail reptilian Haunting flat onto the ground. The companion, an armored, plump one, continued to trade blows with them.

Sol rushed to their side, knocking the Haunting off course with one fatal punch to the head. He shook off the flame, triumphant. “That will teach you.” 

“Sol…” Cann whispered warningly.

“Don’t… think this is over,” a new voice said, wet and halting. The clam Haunting was still on the ground, a hole burned into his weak internal flesh. That did nothing to compromise the smugness of his declaration. “You can’t take us all.”

Sol’s fist burned, but Cann touched his arm, silently telling him to save it.

“Wonderful,” Cann muttered. “Another entry in this queue will be here any moment.”

“Oh, don’t act as if this was wrong of me!” Sol shot back. “Would you rather I sat comfortably in the palace while this went on? Pav said—”

“Pav is a showboating windbag,” they said drily. “Why are we listening to them?”

“It is our only option,” he said. “These Hauntings need to be cleared out, and if the cost is some inconvenience to the mortals—”

“The cost is you, Sol!” Cann’s voice rose to a volume Sol had never heard before. Softer, they went on, “You don’t have anything to prove to mortals, or Hauntings… anyone.” Desperate, they reached for his hand. “The sun’s face is all the more precious because it’s our secret. Why would you throw that away?”

“Cann…” Sol’s words died in his throat. He never considered what he’d be giving away. Even if he frightened the Hauntings, what would become of the Stars if they were unveiled to the mortals thanks to his carelessness?

He was the center of the world. For the first time, he hated that truth.

A dark mist closed in, followed by quick feet hitting the ground. More Hauntings were coming. Sol’s heart raced. What was he going to do, surrender to the enemy, or betray the secret? He racked his brain, at an impossible loss.

Until he locked eyes with the Star beside him, and everything fell into place.

“Do you know what I’m thinking?” he asked.

Cann’s smile shone even brighter than their burning eyes. “I know everything.” 

Without having to say anything else, the two of them parted, Cann holding their ground against the incoming flock as Sol took to the sky. Trusting Cann to keep the Hauntings busy, Sol watched the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment. 

The smallest glimmer of the coming dawn’s fire was all he needed. “Now!” he yelled. 

He glanced down, only to realize with horror that he’d distracted Cann at a crucial juncture. A well-toned amphibian Haunting seized the opportunity, wrestling Cann to their knees as the force of the flock descended on them. Sol hovered uselessly on the spot, paralyzed by the sight, his eyes darting between the battle below and the sunrise. 

He could not fail. Not like this.

Then, the sky cleared.

A concentrated beam of lavender light had cut through an opening between the Haunting’s limbs and shot into the sky like a beacon. It reached its zenith and dispersed, sending a dome of thin, shimmering illusion descending onto the battleground. 

A curtain. They were safe from outside eyes.

Cann brushed their horrified assailants off and struggled to their feet. They looked up at Sol. “Do it!” 

The sun was now painting the sky red. Sol caught hold of its fire and, working like a strategically placed glass, focused its wrath on the toad Haunting who had led the latest charge. The skin ignited. High-pitched screams pierced the air, from the toad and the rest of the flock alike. Sol glared, unblinking, making his silent threat clear. The sounds faded mercifully fast into the distance as the Hauntings made their escape, away from the walls of Florence. Cann joined Sol in the air, wasting no time in putting distance between themselves and the retreating flock.

“Are there more coming?” Sol asked.

Cann briefly scrunched their face in concentration, then relaxed. “No,” they said, satisfied. “All of them are retreating.”

The weight of the sky seemed to be lifted off Sol’s shoulders as the two Stars made their way to the wall. They’d done the impossible, put an end to the endless fight. 

Sol landed on a higher palisade of the wall, and beamed at Cann when they followed suit. “Let it never be said you don’t deliver, Canopus.”

“Never be said?” Cann asked. “Even by you?”

The joke lacked their usual flair. Still, Sol didn’t let that chip away at the euphoria of a hard-won victory. “You’ll catch me saying no such thing.” He clapped Cann on the shoulder. “Truthfully, I don’t know how you—”

The force of the playful hit made Cann stumble a step forward. They caught themself in time… but that slight gesture shouldn’t have fazed one of his strongest Stars at all. Sol noticed too late that they were clutching their robes pointedly to the side with both hands, as if to cover something.

He stood at attention, now alarmed. “Cann…?”

“It’s alright!” they managed through shallow breaths, smiling so genuinely that for a moment, Sol fully believed the words. “We won.”

They collapsed at his feet, and the protective dome above faded to nothing.

“No!” Sol sank to his knees beside them. He turned them over to reveal viscous black staining their robes. The lead Haunting had poisoned them in the scuffle; it had corroded deep enough to graze their skin. He brought a flaming palm to the sizzling wound. Even in the warmth of his arms, Cann was shivering. Their eyes did not open. “Fight it,” he begged.

He couldn’t win this way. This cost was too much to bear. 

“Over there!” a voice called from the sky. V led Cyon and Pav to the wall, their excitement and relief palpable through the wind. As they flew closer though, V’s smile instantly fell. The three Stars landed on the top of the wall.

“Cann, you idiot…” V cursed under their breath. “What happened?”

“I used the sun to drive them out,” Sol said, not taking his eyes off Cann.

“Oh?” Pav asked, with barely restrained glee.

“But I made certain no one would see it.”

“Naturally,” Cyon said, pointedly glaring at Pav. “Because how thoughtless would the alternative have been, right?” 

Sol’s face burned with embarrassment. As if he needed to be told now.

“Both of you need to shut it!” V took it upon themself to say. “Make yourselves useful and get them to Sirius, before the Haunting venom spreads too far.”

The Stars gently pried Cann away from Sol’s grasp. Still continuing their debate wordlessly with their eyes, Cyon and Pav flew off, supporting Cann’s weight between them. Sol watched after them, only snapping out of his thoughts when V spoke.

“The old ‘illusion of safety’ curtain trick, yes?” V asked, impressed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

“Would it have ended better if you had?”

“Don’t say that, it ended well enough! If the Hauntings have even half a brain between them, you scared them off for good!” V argued. “And Cann will be fine. It’s Cann, for skies’ sake.”

“They better be.”

V sighed. “I’m going to clean up this mess.” They gestured vaguely to the fires and black puddles. “Go back to the palace. See how they’re holding up.”

Sol was off to the palace practically before they finished speaking. To mask his flight, he followed a sunbeam; it was, thankfully, much easier to disguise himself in the daytime.

He practically kicked down the ornate door to the chapel. 

“Come now!” Sirius was saying. His gloves were off, and his constant flames were uninhibited as he tried to hold a struggling Cann down to the altar. He was succeeding, but only barely; Cann almost matched his strength. “Would it end to you hold still for—”

Sol cleared his throat, and the two of them snapped to attention. “Everything is in order, I assume?” he said.

“Yes, my king!” Sirius said. “But I need to attend to them at least until noon. It’s simply Haunting wound protocol.”

Cann scoffed. “Spare me the protocol, Sirius. The poison barely even took.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “And whose fire is to be credited for that?”

“If I may,” Sol said, amused. “Sirius, allow me a word with Cann. Protocol will be followed unfettered after this.”

Sirius bowed his head and stood. “As you wish.” Leaning closer to Sol, he whispered, “Make sure to dedicate at least some of your time to telling them to stay put.” He vacated the chapel, leaving Sol and Cann alone and shutting the door securely behind him. 

“Ironic,” Cann remarked. “That he believes you can tell me anything about staying put.”

Sol didn’t return the humor. “Do not deflect from the matter at hand.”

“Oh, are we doing this? Fine,” Cann said with a roll of their eyes, like they were being asked to perform a menial chore. “Yes, I’m perfectly intact and will be back to fighting shape by next sunrise. No, the poison is not your fault, and if you even try to insist otherwise, you fundamentally misunderstand why I followed you. And don’t worry, as far as the other Stars will know, your unbelievably rash stunt did not happen, and the curtain was our brilliant plan all along.” They took a breath. “Did I miss anything?”

Sol stammered a few half hearted responses, having to give up in the end to avoid appearing even more foolish. He took a seat beside Cann. “I wish you would stop taking all the gravitas out of my heartstopping speeches,” he said finally, smiling despite himself.

“You are very predictable.”

Companionable silence overtook them. Sol draped a wing around Cann’s side in case the biting cold of the poison hadn't subsided. Cann did not pull away.

“It bothers you, doesn't it?” they asked softly. “That I can read your intentions like an open book, but you can never have that certainty about mine?”

“It would help,” Sol admitted. “If I knew you intended to take every hit at the wall…”

“You couldn't have stopped me,” Cann said. “No more than I could have stopped you from sneaking out.”

“Well, thank the skies for that, I suppose.” He watched the murals around him, feeling pride, more powerful than the envy or indifference the pieces had inspired before. Despite it all, the truth remained that he’d survived more in the past hours than the commemorated mortals would face in a lifetime. He could make peace with that, if nothing else. “Stardom lives to see another day.”

[ciboriaadastra]

if DC wasn't insistent on spreading their artists thin and putting embargos on IPs against their own writers, I could have had Batman: Gargoyle of Gotham #3 in my hands by now

[dearestro]

Saturday Mornings

Summary: Even lazy mornings can be exciting...for some people. Part of the Chase Miniseries.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

You squinted your eyes at the sudden stream of light as you awoke from your slumber. Your husband buried his face in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was early Saturday morning, so everyone got to sleep in. Of course, you felt that Robert had other plans than sleeping this morning as he not only kissed your neck but you could also feel something prodding your thigh. You rolled over to face him as he started nipping at your skin.

"Really?" You raised a brow as his hands crept up your body.

"Come on." He almost whined. "Layla's not up. We have time..." He murmured against your skin. "And how else am I supposed to deal with this?" He said, his body flush against yours so that you could feel exactly what he was talking about.

"Well, you have a hand, don't you?" You teased as he continued to trail his lips all over your skin. You looked at the clock before sighing. "I suppose we have time-" You were cut off as a squeal escaped your lips when he rolled on top of you but were quickly quieted when he pressed his lips to yours. As hands trailed bodies and mouths fought for dominance, you were suddenly interrupted. 

"Mommy? Daddy? What are you doing?" You froze at the little girl's voice, thankful you both were still clothed...although boxers and modest lingerie wasn't the greatest to be caught in...

"We're-we're-" You struggled to find an excuse not wanting to have 'the talk' with a five year old.

"We're wrestling, sweetheart. Daddy's winning." You rolled your eyes at your husband's excuse before turning back to your daughter.

"Why don't you go downstairs? I'll be down in a minute to get breakfast, baby." She nodded before pattering to the kitchen. You went to get up as soon as she was out of sight, but someone had other plans. "Babe, we can't do this now. I have to get up and get her breakfast before she comes up here again."

"I can be quick!" Your husband whined.

"Oh, I know just how quick you can be, but even that's not quick enough for a hungry toddler." You chuckled as he frowned at the jab before getting off of you.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with..." He motioned to his nether regions as you leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Take a cold shower and pray she doesn't remember this moment when she's old enough to realize what 'wrestling' actually means." You went into the closet to put on a robe and some slippers before coming back out. "Or do it yourself." You shrugged as you turned to leave. "But not on the bed!" You shouted over your shoulder, not wanting to have to do laundry because your husband couldn't be bothered to do it into the toilet. 

You made your way to the kitchen and found Layla sitting patiently at the table.

"Fruit?" She nodded her head as you got her a little bowl (no strawberries as they had been restricted to special occasions only after the last incident) and some juice as she waited. By the time you were finished and had given the food to the little girl, Robert had joined your side.

"Who won?" Layla asked, finally breaking the silence. Robert looked down at the little girl confusion spread across his features.

"What?" The girl giggled at her dad's confusion. 

"When wrestling!" 

"I did!" You said as you smirked at your husband before bending down to your daughter and mock whispering, "Daddy's not a very good wrestler." She laughed at the 'secret' you had just told her. From behind, you could hear him scoff.

"Please. I'm an excellent wrestler. I demand a rematch!" You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his lips. 

"Sure you are, baby." You mocked his pouting.

"Well, if the two of you are only gonna make fun of me, I guess I won't make pancakes." You frowned, letting go of him.

"Noo!" Your daughter whined.

"Not until I get an apology." Robert said as he crossed his arms and turned his back to the girls.

"Sorry, Daddy!" He didn't budge, so you sighed and came up behind him. Your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Sorry, Daddy." His face went red at the innocent sentence, and you felt a slight lift in his pants. 

"Say that again." He whispered so your daughter wouldn't hear. You smirked as you walked in front of him and put your lips near his ear. You could hear his breath catch and see the tent in his shorts rise.

"No." You whispered into the shell of his ear. You kissed his cheek and started to back away as you looked down at the sight before you and smirked. "Take care of yourself...again. I'll make the pancakes. And don't forget to wash your hands!" You said, making sure to keep things out of the toddler's sight and earshot. He groaned before awkwardly shuffling away.

"Alright then, babygirl! Do you want blueberries in your pancakes?" You turned to see your daughter just about finished with her fruit and juice. She nodded eagerly. "Well, coming right up!"

[neverinadream]

You're His Girlfriend, But You Belong To Me - Epilogue

Last Part

Summary: We all deserve a happy ending.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, nsfw, pre-established relationship, fluff, smut with plot, dom!christian (elements of soft dom!christian) x sub!reader, some insecurities for christian but resolved quickly, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise, nipple play, hair pulling, grinding/thigh riding, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, talking about cum, asking permission to cum, roughly edited

Notes: i wasn't to finish and post this exactly a year ago 🫣 i can't even remember why i stopped writing it midway through but i'm so glad i found the motivation to finish it. this miniseries was one of my favourites to write. i hope you like it.

Christian's touch seared your skin as his hand rested on your bare leg. Now and then, he would brush soft circles into your skin, breaking his attention from the book he was forcing himself to read. The breeze was welcomed against your warm skin, but it did nothing to blow away the obvious sexual tension between you.

Four days.

You had been in Verona for four days, staying in a small and intimate hotel. Your days consisted of exploring the city, tasting new cuisine and buying bottles of wine that you would share on your balcony at night. Together you enjoyed four days of total bliss - total sexless bliss. Touches that lingered on your skin and kisses that lasted longer than expected never turned into anything more, which you wouldn't complain about if the wine tonight hadn't left you feeling tipsy and the soft circles he was pressing into your skin didn't form an ache between your thighs.

Tonight you were having sex, even if you had to make the first move.

Christian frowns as you drag your legs off his lap, setting your bare feet on the balcony floor. He lowers his book into his lap and glances over to find you were already looking in his direction. "You okay?" He asks, unable to read the expression painted heavily on your face like a layer of makeup.

"I want to go back inside," you tell him, walking your fingers across the arm of your chair.

He slides the bookmark into his book, a purchase made on your second day after you had judged him for folding the corner. "Tired?" It was a simple question, but the wrong one.

You shake your head. "I'm not tired." You move to stand in front of him, your arms looping around his neck as you lean over him, your knee resting on the edge of his chair. "But I do want us to go to bed."

His breath catches in his throat and a subtle shade of pink appears as a blush sets on his cheeks. "Oh."

For a second, you feel yourself panicking, and pull back. His reaction surprised you. The old Christian you knew wouldn't have thought twice about having sex with you, but this new version of him seemed hesitant. He glances between you and the balcony door and rubs his hand against the rounded edge of the arm.

"Forget it," you apologise, taking a step back. You must have stepped over a boundary that you didn't even realise was there. "We don't have to...I'm just gonna..."

"Just come here," he mumbles, pulling you down on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands push up your dress in search of somewhere to put them, and you didn't care if there was a chance of someone seeing you, because after days of nothing, you finally had his hands on you again. "Don't ever think that I don't want to have sex with you," he skims his lips against your neck, biting softly at your earlobe, "because I'll always want you."

You drop your lips to his, drinking in his soft whines as your fingers tangle through his hair, your nails scratching softly against his scalp. The kisses were soft and slow, and you could feel him holding back. You pull away, trying to get a better understanding of what was happening.

"What is it?" You say, seeing a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, something you had never seen before.

He looks off the balcony and then back at you, the blush you had seen earlier colouring his cheeks. "I'm nervous," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why? What for?"

He shrugs his shoulders and casts his eyes down into your lap, hiding his face. "I-I don't know," he mumbles, lifting one shoulder, "things are different now." He fiddles with the end of your dress, rubbing the baby blue material between his finger and thumb to calm himself. "You're gonna think I'm being silly," he shakes his head, still refusing to look at you.

"Christian, I think you can be stubborn and sometimes cocky, but never silly," you giggle, hooking your fingers under his chin. You give him a soft smile as his eyes reach yours. Caressing his jaw, the stubble tickles the underside of your thumb as you softly stroke it against him. "Talk to me."

He gives you a watery smile. "I've never slept with someone that I'm in love with." He forces a laugh and rubs his fingers against his eyebrow. "I've only known sex to be one way," he explains, his eyes darting between you and the door, "I-I...I don't know if it's meant to be any different. Do I stop doing the things I was doing before? Do you expect me to be soft and slow? I don't know what to do."

"First of all, definitely do not stop doing the things you were doing before. I like those things. I like them a lot."

He chuckles, letting your hips go as you move to stand in front of him. He shifts to sit on the edge of his chair and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, making a humming sound when you stroke your fingers against his cheek.

"And, secondly, I don't expect you to change just because things have changed between us. I just want you, Christian. Plain and simple." You extend both of your hands, fingers wiggling in the air, the goofiness of it making him laugh. "Will you please let me have you?"

He lets you lead the way, walking a few steps behind you as you return to your room. The bed was still a mess from the nap you had taken earlier that afternoon and your bags were unpacked and shoved into the corner. Clothes you had worn the night before were folded on a chair, and fresh towels left by housekeeping were still on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

When you spin around to face him, you are met with a smile and a pair of eyes gazing lovingly back at you. You smile as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flushed against him.

"I love you," he whispers against your warm skin, his lips tracing the length of your neck. His fingers push down the strap of your sundress and he skims his lips along your shoulder. He wanted to touch every part of your body and memorise your taste. "I'm going to make you cum over and over again, princess," he kisses his promise against your skin, "gonna sink myself inside that pretty pussy and fuck you like you deserve."

"Please," you whimper, heat pooling inside your underwear at the promise he had just made. You arched your back as his hand stroked down the front of your dress, rubbing your nipple through the soft material. "Christian," you let your hands roam free over his body, your mouth forming an 'O' shape as your hand runs over the hard bulge straining against the zipper of his pants. He wanted you as much as you wanted him. "Please," you repeated yourself, your head falling back as he marks your collarbone.

"Use your words," he encourages, pulling back to look at you, "tell me what you need."

"You."

He pushes the other strap down and fiddles with the zip on the side, pulling it down until your dress was loose enough to turn into a pool of baby blue at your feet.

"I know you need me," he chuckles, taking off his t-shirt and adding it to the pile growing at your feet. Temptation leads you into touching his chest, stroking your fingers against his chest hair, and scraping your nails down his abs. "But I want to know specifically what you want me to do," his voice pulls your attention back up to his face.

You drop to sit on the end of the bed, watching the veins on the back of his hands as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he pushes you onto your back, his body hovering above yours as he wedges a knee between your thighs, "tell me and I'll give it to you."

"That," you gasp, rocking against his thigh as he presses it against your needy core, "I want that."

His hard cock rubs against your thigh as he thrusts against you. "Like that?" He groans, dropping his lips to yours, swallowing your whimpers into his mouth. He fists his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back into the bed as he works his tongue into your mouth with an urgency to taste you. "Taste so good," he groans, sucking on your tongue, intoxicated by the whimpers you make.

"Feel so good," you stutter, squirming under him as he sinks his weight into you. The pressure on your clit has your eyes rolling back and the harder he thrusts against you the harder it became to ignore the heat pooling in your belly. "Christian," you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your pussy flutter and clench around nothing, "'m close."

"Yeah?" He breathes into your mouth, grunting as feels his cock pulsate against your thigh. He trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck before sucking and biting the skin, leaving your skin to be bruised with his mark. The thought of you no longer having to cover them up made him harder. You were his now. Only his. "That's it," he encourages, feeling you tremble beneath him, "take what you need."

The pleasure raced through your veins and boiled your blood, hitting you in waves, one after the other, until you couldn't take it no more. Your body convulsed, your legs tightening around his thigh as a cry broke from your lips. His name had never sounded better than it did at that very moment.

He slips his hand between your bodies, and you shudder against him as he finds your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles through your underwear. "Good girl," he whispers, kissing the spot below your ear, "so fucking beautiful when you cum, you know that?"

A slow, satisfied smile creeps over your face and he lazily grins back at you. "What's next?"

"Well," he props himself up onto his hands, one pressed on either side of the bed, hovering and watching you for your reaction as he spoke, "if you'll let me, I'd like to taste you." His eyes were dark and desire flashed in them as he raked them down your nearly naked form. There was no denying the look in his eyes. He wanted you. "Can I, baby?" He flicks his back up to yours. "Can I eat your pussy?"

You nodded and a primal noise rumbles low in his chest. It sent a shot of searing heat to your core and, if you hadn't already soaked through your underwear, you would've been a mess in an instant. Slowly, he pushes his hand down the front of your underwear, a groan shakily rolling off his lips as your wetness coats his fingers. "Is this because of me?" He asks, fascinated by the way your body was reacting to him. He swirls light circles against your clit, grinning down at you as you buck your hips, looking for something more. "Need something, baby?"

"More." It was simple and commanding, and listening to you taking control of your pleasure had his cock twitching. His finger drags your wetness from your entrance up, rubbing against your clit until you whine at him to stop. "Chris," you wrap your hand around his wrist, trying to stop him.

The white flimsy piece of fabric becomes lost as he removes your underwear, throwing them off the bed. He kneels down and spreads your thighs apart, your arousal glistening under the shabby hotel room lights for him to see. This mess was his doing. He had made you like this.

"Look at you, baby," he groans, licking his lips and hungry to devour you, "you look like a fucking goddess laid like this for me." Warmth spreads across your face but you make no attempt to cover yourself. "My Helen of Troy," he whispers, brushing his thumb lazily through your folds, "yes?"

"Yes, all yours."

You swallowed a breath, watching with anticipation as he lowered his mouth onto your cunt. A gasp leaves your lips as his tongue connects with your body, licking from back to front and stopping just above your clit. He does it again, groaning against your heat as your taste consumes him.

You tangle your fingers through his hair and his head jerks back as you pull on his curls.

"Sorry-"

"Don't apologise," he cuts you off, placing a soft kiss against your clit, "I think we've done enough apologising for a lifetime, don't you?"

With a flushed face, you nod your head.

He grins up at you. "Besides, I like it when you pull on my hair."

His lips enclose you, sucking hard on your clit, only letting go when you whine that it's too much. He shifts, tilting his head to kiss the inner of your thigh. His beard scratches against your skin, making you whimper.

"So beautiful," Christian whispers, kissing a line up your belly.

His soft tone floods your stomach with a gooey warmth. You could remember a time you would've begged him to say such words; words full of affection he had for you. He needed to pinch you so you knew this wasn't a cruel dream.

"Where are you?" He says, seeing yourself wander elsewhere in your head. He cups his hand sweetly against your jaw and strokes his thumb softly against your chin.

"I'm in a-"

"Not literally," he chuckles, shaking his head. He kisses your cheek. "Just then," he mumbles, "where did you just go?"

"I just..." You look away with a sigh. "It doesn't matter," you shake your head, "I don't want to dwell on the past, not when I have everything I've ever wanted."

He lifts an eyebrow suggestively. "You always wanted me, alone, in a little hotel room, somewhere in the centre of Verona?"

This makes you giggle. "No, I just wanted you," you stalk your fingers up his chest and wrap your arms around his neck, "and now I have you."

"Correct," he says, smiling as he quickly kisses you and rolls off the bed.

You sit up on your elbows, confused as you watch him kneel to pull open his backpack. He opens the front pocket and wiggles his hand inside. There was something cute about the way he chewed his bottom lip as he concentrated on searching through the pocket.

"What are you doing?" You finally ask.

"I've got something for you."

"Well, can't it wait?" You tried not to sound too impatient.

He barks a light-hearted laugh. "That desperate, huh?"

You roll your eyes, despite his teasing being harmless. "Maybe."

"Well, you'll just have to be a good girl and wait thirty more seconds."

Christian stands, hiding something small in a closed fist. The floorboards creak as he walks back over and the mattress dips under the extra weight as he joins you. He kneels next to you, waiting for you to sit up. You look up at him and then back at his closed hand.

"What is it?" You ask, a feeling of excitement and anticipation building inside.

He opens his hand, the surprise now pinched between his thumb and finger. You softly gasp, looking at the dainty silver band and emerald jewel. "You must've dropped it the other night," he says, moving to drop it into the palm of your hand. He closes your fingers around it and squeezes your hand. "It probably happened when you slapped me."

Covering your mouth, you release a pained groan. "I still can't believe I did that."

Christian shrugs. "I deserved it."

"I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't apologise; if you hadn't done it, then I think my mom might've done it when I told her what had happened." You give him a watery smile that he reaches over to kiss away. "What's done is done," he says, kissing you again, "I just want us to focus on the now. It does us no good to dwell on our regrets."

You nod and turn to the small wooden box you had left on the bedside table. You place Nelly's ring inside with the rest of your jewellery, keeping it safe.

"You should wear it." You look back at Christian, the rest of your body turning with your head. He moves to sit up the top end of the bed, his back leant against the headboard. "What?" He says, finding your reaction a surprise. "You should."

"It's Nelly's engagement ring, Christian-"

His hand hooks under your thigh and he lifts you to straddle his lap. "Okay?"

He stares at you extra hard. This new devotion makes your stomach flip-flop under his attention.

"I'll wear it at the right time," you insist, making a silent promise to him.

He leans into you, roaming his hand over your hip onto the small of your back, and crashes his mouth against yours. The kiss is soft at first, slow even, both of you trying to savour the softness that had come about from the talk of Nelly's ring. Your lips part, you whimpering as he nips at your bottom lip, and his tongue slips inside. He tastes traces of wine and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

Needing to catch his breath, he breaks away first but quickly turns his attention to your neck. He kisses, nips, sucks and licks a path down, his hand coming up to cup the underside of your breast and pushing your nipple past his lips. You moan, feeling his tongue swirl hungrily around the pebbled nub.

"Christian," you moan his name, hands searching between you to find the waistband of his boxes. His groans around your breast as you untuck his cock. "N-need you," you stutter, lazily stroking him.

"I know, baby," he mumbles, pulling his mouth off, "just wanna play with the other one first."

"Now, Christian!"

He chuckles. "You're adorable when you get impatient, did you know that?" He gives your other nipple a quick lick, before kissing his way back up your neck. He nips at the underside of your jaw. "What are you waiting for?" His voice is husky as he whispers into your ear. "You've already got hold of my cock; go on, sink that pretty pussy onto it."

His words urge you up onto your knees and you're rewarded for your obedience with the feeling of his tip notched inside you.

"God, y/n," he grunts, digging his fingers into the softness of your breast, "all the way, baby, lets not act like this isn't our first time." A surprised yelp leaves your lips, forming quickly into a moan as Christian thrusts himself in. He chuckles. "Much better, right?"

You bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling like the rest of your body. "There he is," you say, liking the cocky edge to his tone.

Christian slides his hands down onto your hips. "Go on, move for me," he encourages, "show me how bad you want it."

Up and down, you lift your hips and drop down, feeling every inch of his length as you do. You watch for his reaction, his widening with your own as you both feel each other - his cock buried deep inside and your warmth encased around him.

Your hand snakes around the back of his neck and pulls him closer.

"Doing so good for me," he says, catching your whimpers on his lips. His hand reaches for your breast, kneading the soft flesh and running his thumb gingerly over your nipple. "Never a bad girl, are you?" He nips at your ear, grinning as you whine at the feel of his teeth scraping against your skin. "Always a good girl."

You don't speak. Correction, you can't speak. Too drunk on his cock to barely think about anything other than coming for him. So you let Christian do all the talking.

"Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby? Hmm?" Your body shudders against him as he growls breathlessly into your ear. "Gonna make me yours, huh? Gonna come on my cock and mark your territory so no one else can have me? Because no one else can have me now, can they? I'm only yours."

You grind your hips faster, chasing your high.

"Fuck-!" He grunts, biting down on your shoulder and dragging his tongue along to soothe the ache. "Feels so good when you're this fuckin' tight."

It was too much. His sweat sticks to your body and mixes with yours. His words make your head dizzy, leaving you intoxicated and craving to hear more. His cock was buried deep inside you, and you revelled in the slight sting that came with his cock as it stretched you.

You crash your mouth down against his, pulling tightly on his hair just to whine as he bites your bottom lip. The metallic taste sits on your mouth for both of you to taste, his tongue pushing past your lips, driven to taste more of you.

Breathless, you pull away and slump against him, his body bearing the brunt of your weight. "Tell me I can come," you whisper against his sweaty chest.

He chuckles. "You can come."

Your hand dives between your bodies, seeking out your clit. "Again," you whine, rubbing your clit in fast circles.

"Come on, baby," he coos, "come for me."

The knot in your stomach tightens, and you clench around him. "A-Again."

"I won't tell you again." He wraps his hand around your neck, grabbing you with enough pressure to snap your eyes open. You're met with a smile, or rather more like a cocky grin, the one he used to give you whenever he liked to tease you. "Now be a good girl and come all over this fucking cock!"

You come with his name on your lips, crying out into his hand as he slaps the other over your mouth. The hotel was old with thin walls. This moment was yours, he didn't want your neighbours to hear you.

He continues pumping into you, thoroughly taking you through your orgasm and spilling into you moments later. "That's it," he says, whispering against your temple, catching you as your body goes limp on top of his. His hands stroke down the length of your back, trailing your spine, leaving goosebumps in their path. "Shaking so much, baby," he mumbles, kissing the words into your skin, "too much?"

You shake your head. That wasn't too much or not enough. It was perfect.

Cradling his face, you dust kisses along the underside of his stubbled jaw. You lift your head and your stomach flips from the weight of his attention. His eyes brimmed with a loving-kindness you would never get used to.

"I love you," you say, whispering it onto his lips, "so, so much."

Christian smiles, cheekily nipping at the end of your finger as you traced it over his lips. You retract with a tired giggle, folding your hand into the limited space between your bodies.

"Say it again," he says, brushing his lips against your hair as you tuck your head into the groove of his neck.

"I love you."

---

Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @hischierswhore @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3

[j4gm]

I finally have ALL THE MINISERIES. I sort of put a pause on completing my Adventure Time comic collection but I’ve decided to try and finish it now that we’re getting more comics in 2025.

Here’s the whole collection. All I need now in terms of comic TPBs is the last three volumes of the main 2012 series, a couple of the 2016 Comics series, and one Sugary Shorts. I’ve got some books and games and fan projects on this shelf as well but the comics are the only thing I’m actually looking to complete.

I wanna do a big reread of everything once I do :3

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & the Devil P.3 (Final) 🌑 | Harry Potter Imagine

Takes place during DH1 & 2

Part 1 & 2 Here | HP masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: major character death, violence, physical assault (Lucius gets his ass beat) profanity, major angst, illusions to sex, NSFW, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s, but follows the movies. Reader is written with having psychopathic/sociopathic traits | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 11.7k

Requested yes/no

Premise: The Second Wizarding War reaches heightened tension as Harry Potter and his friends find themselves on a scavenger hunt for Voldemorts Horcruxes. For Y/n Black, after escaping the Burrow following the Battle of the Seven Potters, she wonders just how far she'll go to ensure she's free from the Dark Lord's bounds if Harry Potter prevails. Unfortunately, with war comes sacrifice, and Y/n must suffer the consequences. Even if means she doesn't get to see a new world without darkness.

Note: I have finally finished this HP miniseries and feel so good about it. But then it reminds me how many series I have yet to finish + requests and I think 'I need to get it together'. I still have my MIB fic I'm working on AND I have an idea for Cooper Howard from Fallout. Anyways....I'm alive and I hope you enjoy this last part after a much-anticipated wait. I gave it all the angst.

————-------

“Where the hell have you been?” were the first words shouted at Y/n upon her return home. Snape sprung from his chair, mirroring her disheveled look. He appeared to have gone through hell and back. “You were supposed to return hours ago.” 

“I got a little caught up,” she groaned, waving a hand as she beelined for the kitchen. Obviously not in the mood for the argument about to occur. Snape followed after her.

“I figured,” he stood in the doorway, watching her reach into the medicine cabinet and rustle through until she found the bottle of aspirin. “I searched every corner of London--thinking you fell from the sky and was laid in a ditch somewhere---only to find out from Yaxley of all people, you’d been on the back of Bill Weasley’s Thestral.” He didn’t say anything else, but the tone of his voice indicated Snape knew where Y/n had been.

Yeah she wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

Throwing back the asprin, Y/n chased it with wine and let out a sigh, “If you already know ... .why bother--.”

“Because I want to know how you could be so stupid--!” Snape clenched his fists, face turning red by the amount of anger he was itching to release. “To get yourself taken by the Order!”

Y/n, matching his emotion from having to deal with the events of the night, slammed the glass down so hard it shattered. Not caring it cut her hand and blood was now leaking. “I’m sorry, Snape. Next time a Thestral slams into me mid-air, I’ll let myself fall from the fucking sky. Save you from having to deal with my recklessness any longer. Since it’s causing you so much stress--goddammit--.” she hissed, the pain in her hand settling in. Muttering a spell, the wound closed and Y/n rinsed the blood off in the sink. “How the hell was I to expect the Delacour girl to do what she did?”

“Where did they take you?” Snape demanded, moving to stand beside her. At a closer look, he spotted the bruises and abrasions. His question changed, voice softening, “Are you alright?”

“Splendid,” she spat, drying her hands without looking at him. “Better than I’ve ever been.” She flinched when the man gently took a hold of her wrist, turning to him in surprise. 

“I mean it, Y/n. You’re covered in bruises and it's obvious you’re in pain.” The anger returns on Snape’s face. “Did they torture you?” Y/n scoffs, finding his assumption amusing. 

“Torture me? You humor me, dear husband,” her playfulness was back. Snape muttered something along the lines of ‘Merlin’s beard’ though she saw his eyebrows relax. He still held her wrist, and Y/n noticed the bruises starting to disappear. Snape was performing non-verbal healing spells on her.

Over the course of their marriage the two had moments of affection. Mostly to keep up the act in front of others, but every now and then there’d be private ones. Such as the current scenario. Snape making their tea in the morning. Y/n buying his potion ingredients when his stock is low. Sitting on opposite sides of the couch while reading. Having dinner together, even if it's in silence. 

And, on rare occasions, the two experienced their shared needs with each other. 

Again, neither would call it love. Romantic attraction was nonexistent to Y/n and she knew she’d never be able to love. Snape understood this, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. Unable to see himself loving again after Lily. 

Once he was done, and the bruises were gone, Snape let go of Y/n’s hand, “Tell me what happened.”

“What’s there to tell,” she mumbles, leaning against him slightly. “When I woke up, after being stunned and a rather harsh landing, I was tied to a chair and asked to answer some questions.” Snape tensed, but Y/n continued, “Bet you can expect what their negotiations were if I cooperated.”

“Azkaban. Albeit a lesser sentence.” She huffed, cranking her neck with a nod.

“Yeah I wasn’t thrilled with that,” tilting her chin up so it rested on his chest, Y/n smirked wickedly, “they tried to use Veritaserum on me.”

“Oh,” he raised a brow, fighting his own smirk. “And how’d that go?” Her response was a shrug.

“I may have caused some trouble.”

The man chuckled, not surprised by the answer. “I’d expect nothing less.” Stepping to the side, Snape poured them each a glass of wine. “And how did you escape?” Handing Y/n hers, the two clicked glasses before bringing the rim to their lips. Y/n answered once the bitter taste passed through her throat.

“I stirred up a storm. Genuinely.” Y/n mentally patted herself on the back, impressed she managed to pull it off. “A tad shaky if I must admit, but It had them off their feet.” They finished the wine, Snape taking the glasses to put in the sink. Y/n stretched her arms, turning on her heel to exit the kitchen. “Well if you don’t mind, I’m going to treat myself to a bath. Tonight has left me quite spent,” reaching the doorway, she stops and turns to Snape, mouth curling up and eyes turning a shade he knows all too well. Heat coursed through his body as he watched her tease the stings of her corset, painting his cheeks with a light blush. 

“Care to join me?” 

In the following months after the Battle of the Seven Potters, Y/n’s time was once again spent in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Spell books and potions kept her busy while Snape was at Hogwarts for the term, a place Y/n avoided like the plague, as the newly instated headmaster. Anytime the school was mentioned she wanted to throw up. The memories of her short time there were a painful reminder of the life forced upon her. Knowing she’d never come to him when he needed to meet urgently, Snape either traveled by Floo or crossed school grounds to apparate. Letters were sent consistently.

Y/n could’ve remained at Snape’s home where they had resided during the summer. But that meant being completely alone. And while she may hate her family and enjoy isolation in the attic, the mere presence of people in the mansion provides comfort. It kept the voices in her head from being too loud. 

Tensions were high at the manor. With Lucius back and Bellatrix unable to shut up, Y/n’s peace and quiet was constantly disturbed. Draco had been kept home, and if Y/n were being honest the sound of his cries at night both annoyed and pitied her. Then when he wasn’t staying hidden in the shadows, Voldermort turned up to wreak havoc. 

The news of Potter infiltrating the Ministry spread like wildfire. Dolores Umbridge had been stunned mid-trial for a muggle-born witch, the necklace belonging to Salazar Slytherin ripped from her neck. Voldermart was furious. Fightenly so. He sent every Death Eater not in his close circle to find and capture the boy. Groups of Snatchers ordered to bring Harry to the Manor. 

‘Can I ever get a break?’ The thought crossed her mind a dozen times a day.

Then on the first day of May 1998, Y/n’s mere linger of peace was disrupted by commotion downstairs. With a huff, she discarded her book, pocketed her wand and descended the many stairs until she reached the living space. As she entered the scene she was stunned beyond belief at the sight of Harry--whose face was disfigured--Ron, and Hermione. They were fighting against the Snatchers holding them, though they froze when they met her eyes. 

“What is this?” Y/n approached the group, where Bellatrix was screaming about finding Draco. Narcissa and Lucius stood to the side, the former addressing her first. “These men believe they have Harry Potter,” Narcissa flinched when Bellatrix screamed again, “but we’re not exactly sure.”

‘Are you that daft?’ Y/n wanted to say. Anyone with eyes and a decent memory would know it was Harry Potter. Even with the spell to make him unrecognizable, he was with a Weasley and the Granger girl! That should’ve been their confirmation. Narcissa met them all in Diagon Alley after Lucius’ arrest, so either she was just too stupid or was stalling to prolong the inevitable outcome. 

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, tension rising in veins. Snape was going to tear into her if something happened to Potter. And while she could care less about his friends, Ron was a relative and Hermione was one hell of a young witch. The kind that garnered respect from seasoned magical beings. They needed to get out of the manor alive.

“Well, make sure your boy doesn’t get us all killed,” Y/n scoffed when Draco arrived. Pale in the face with sweat beading at his forehead. Wanting nothing more than to apparate away from the chaos. 

Bellatrix pushed Harry down to his knees, gripping his hair in her hand to pull his face up. The boy groaned, Bellatrix addressing Draco, “Well?” He gulped, blinking rapidly as he looked between Harry and his aunt.

“I can’t be sure.”

“Draco,” Lucius grasped his neck with a stern hold. He too was filled with anxiety. “Look closely. Listen if we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord,” behind him, one of the Snatchers raised his brows, moving closer to the duo. “Everything will be forgiven. As it was, understand?” Draco nodded, and their moment was interrupted by the snatcher.

“Now we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy.”

“You dare to talk to me like that in my own house!” Draco flinched at his father’s shout while Narcissa jutted in. 

“Lucius,” her hand latched onto his arm, pulling him away from their son. Lucius relented, allowing her to guide him back a few paces, still visibly annoyed by the snatcher. Bellatrix gestured for Draco, “Don’t be shy, sweetie. Come over.” He let her take his hand, drawing him down to his knees so he was level with Harry. 

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest. Gritting her teeth to the point they might crack. Casting a glance to the teens, Y/n saw their pleading eyes. Begging for escape and to not hurt them. Y/n turned away, focusing on her sister and nephew. 

“Now if this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.”

“Shouldn't you know, Y/n?” Lucius suddenly accused, making the room go quiet. The woman in question snapped her head in his direction, eyes narrowed in challenge.

“What makes you say that?” 

“You were taken to the Burrow that night. You said it yourself to the Dark Lord, the Order questioned you.” He gestured to the teenagers, “weren’t they there?”

“Might I remind you I was rendered unconscious by a thestral and stunned several times, Lucius,” her tone was hard. “Forgive me if my memory is hazy.” Offering a shrug, Y/n continued to deflect, “I was busy formulating an escape plan rather than taking attendance of those present.” Lucius didn’t accept the answer. His expression made it well known. 

“Typical,” he spat, “Even when given the opportunity to locate Harry Potter and those associated with him, you fail to rise to the occasion.” Y/n saw red.

“Do not speak to me about rising to the occasion, Lucius, when you have brought failure to the Dark Lord on more accounts than I can count.” She saw the way he faltered and smirked, “Who was it that took the coward's way out by saying he was under the imperius curse instead of acting on his own free will?” As she inched closer Lucius stiffened and stepped back. Narcissa reached for her husband while glaring at Y/n, who paid her no mind. “Who relished in their new found freedom instead of searching for their Master they were oh so devoted to?”

Behind her, Bellatrix had a devilish smile, enjoying the way Lucius shrunk under her sister’s gaze. 

“Are you not the one who failed to bring him the prophecy?” Y/n mocked, tapping a finger to her chin, “oh yes, in fact you caused the damn thing to shatter. And got yourself caught by the aurors in the process. Bravo, Lucius. Well fucking done.” Her words echoed with a round of applause. “You are pathetic.” 

“Do not talk to him like that,” Narcissa got in her face, though it did nothing to intimidate the younger witch. “He has done more for the Dark Lord than you could ever know.” The scoff Y/n let out irritated Narcissa. 

“If you’re talking about giving up his wand I hate to tell you, Cissy, but that was more like taking candy from a baby,” Rolling her eyes she added, “And opening your home to him, please. The Dark Lord took claim to your home because he sees your husband for who he is…” Y/n leaned in making her sister step back. “Weak.” Y/n hadn’t even noticed Lucius in front of her before it was too late. His hand came up to strike her across the cheek, leaving an angry red mark behind as the force of the slap caused her head to turn. 

Hermoine gasped, a look of horror matching that of Narcissa. Ron, Draco and Harry were wide-eyed, meanwhile the snatchers just appeared awkward. 

They all waited for Y/n to react. She was breathing heavily, but otherwise silent. Then, with a deep inhale, she slowly turned back to Lucius. Any color in her eyes was gone. Completely black and soulless. 

Just like she didn’t have time to react, the same was bestowed on Lucius. Y/n’s arm wound back as far as it could go before launching, causing a sickening *crack* as her fist made an impact with his jaw. The force was so great it sent him to the floor. Narcissa screamed, Draco stumbling away as his father fell beside him and Harry. 

Lucius groaned, the taste of metallic filling his mouth. Blood dripped down his chin. He felt pressure on his chest, glancing up wide-eyed to see Y/n had straddled his chest and began punching him. Narcissa screamed for her to stop while Bellatrix laughed in the background. Y/n’s rings cut into Lucius’ skin, painting her knuckles red. As he brought his arms up to protect himself, Y/n focused her assault on his ribs. 

It was obvious by the absolute crazed expression she bore, Y/n had years of pent up fury releasing with each attack. She looked murderous. Craving blood. Craving pain. It was all she knew. Thanks to her dear sister and brother-in-law. Thanks to her family. 

After two minutes which felt like a lifetime, Y/n was tackled off Lucius by Narcissa. Immediately the older witch tended to her husband, while Y/n picked herself off the floor, cranked her neck and dusted off the dirt on her dress. 

Her sudden calmness is an eerie sight to the teenagers in the room. Both Ron and Hermoine glanced at each other in horror by what they witnessed. Harry remained frozen, wondering just how the hell they were going to get out of the manor. Before the Malfoy’s and Blacks snap again and end with them killing each other. 

“Are you out of your mind!?” Narcissa shouted, removing her wand to begin issuing healing spells. The man looked like he just got out of a bar fight. On top of the cuts from her rings, noticeable bruises and obviously broken nose. His tattered breathing indicated she likely broke a rib. Blood spilled from his mouth, but thankfully for him it didn’t appear that he lost any teeth. 

“He’ll live,” was her response, sounding disappointed by the fact. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to drown myself in fire whiskey while you all figure out if this is Harry Potter or an imposter before we die due to your incompetence.” 

Narcissa shuddered, anger seeping off her as she sent daggers to the back of Y/n’s head. “How dare you?”

“How dare I?” She spins around, challenging Narcissa to say more. “He raised his hand to me and I’m in the wrong? He had it coming.” 

“You called him weak! He went to prison while you fled the Ministry and left him to fend for himself. After all we’ve provided you--allowing you into our home, sit at our table, dine with us….” Narcissa lists off, “You once were a pleasant person to be around and respectful. To be so ungrateful for what we’ve done for you is an insult to---.” Now that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n lost it. 

“You had me sent to fucking Azkaban!!” Her voice echoed off the walls, ordering everyone into silence. The outburst sent a chill amongst all in the room. The Malfoys were rather petrified. Especially Draco who was still kneeling behind his parents. For Narcissa, her eyes glazed as she took in her once sweet and innocent baby sister. The woman who stood in her place lacked any empathy, much like their eldest sister. Only Y/n’s rage was a direct result from those who failed her. Plus the circumstances she endured.

Harry realized this during their encounter at the Burrow. Thinking back to what Sirius had told him that time in Grimmauld Place. Y/n wasn’t always the demented Death Eater she became. Her confessions at the Burrow depict a case of a woman who’d betray Voldemort in an instant if it meant she could escape. 

“Half of my life wasted--because you and your husband chose to sell me out to the Aurors instead of protecting me!” Hatred was the only word to describe the venom in her tone and eyes. “I was fifteen, Narcissa, fifteen.” Water filled Y/n’s eyes that she refused to release. “You let them drag me to that house,” she referred to the night the Death Eaters gave her the mark. The same night they tortured the Longbottoms. “I confided in you. I told you what they forced me to do. I had no choice in the matter, Cissy.” She spit out the once endearing nickname. Like it was acid in her mouth.

Pointing her wand up slightly, Y/n gained satisfaction at the fear. Nearly whispering, she grinded her teeth, “when I came to you--after it was done--terrified out of my mind, I trusted you to keep. Me. Safe.” Each word had her stepping closer to her sister, “that my sister would have my back. Not rat me out the moment the Ministry came knocking at her door so that she, her pathetic husband, and her spineless, spoiled brat of a son--.” Narcissa gripped her wand. Angered by the insults of her loved ones, despite them being slightly true. Y/n dismissed her emotion, “--can live happily ever after. Peacefully, as though they never supported the Dark Lord when behind closed doors…,” she hissed, no longer caring they had an audience, “They are the most cowardice hypocrites in the history of the world.”

The more she drew closer, the tighter the grip Narcissa had on her wand. Ready for any sudden attack. Lucius glared at his sister-in-law with hatred. Meanwhile Draco looked like he wanted to vomit. He barely remembered his aunt before she went to prison. And their interactions since her release were brief. Now the image of her before him sent an awful pit in his stomach. 

Y/n had no plans of cursing anyone, but she’d be damn sure to put the fear of God himself in her relatives for all the pain and anger they’ve caused her entire life. “So no. I will not offer sympathies to your family, Narcissa. Nor shall I feel grateful for your sacrifices. Dear Lucius only got a lick of what I experienced in Azkaban. And Draco got his arse saved by Snape in getting out of killing Dumbledore. Meanwile I had to spend fourteen years in a cell--cast away in the middle of the fucking ocean--for something I had no control over.” Y/n dropped her stance, tone becoming bored as she finished her rant off with, “You can all die for all I care.” 

Desperate to leave Y/n started in the direction but was stopped by Bellatrix. Saying they were not finished and must get back to the issue at hand. Narcissa continued tending to Lucius, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“You’re not sure it’s Potter, so don’t call him,” Y/n said as if it were obvious. Praying she did not give away any suspicion of the truth. “What else is there to say?” 

“What else?” Bellatrix threw out her hands, “There is a blood-traitor and mudblood with him!” She received a roll of the eyes.

“Not every ginger haired wizard is a Weasley, sister.” 

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco changed the subject, Y/n mentally thanking him with a smirk to her brother-in-law in victory.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face?” Bellatrix echoed, addressing the snatchers. Meanwhile Y/n watches the stare off between Harry and Draco. The silent conversation happening between them. And when Harry’s eyes flicker to her, Y/n knows he’s questioning her all the same. ‘Why are you not saying anything? You know it’s me.’

“He came to us like that. Something he picked up in the forest I reckon.”

“Or ran into a stinging jinx,” she counters with a whisper. Her wand raises in the direction of the other captors. “Was it you two?” Bellatrix moves hastily, “Give me her wand. We’ll see what her last spell was.” Narcissa gently places a hand on her son, nudging him to stand and move away from Harry. Y/n stays quiet, keeping a firm gaze on the boys and turns away when Harry gives her a pleading look. 

Bellatrix gives a mocking laugh at Hermoine’s reaction, “I got you.” Suddenly her laugh is cut short with a gasp. Eyes locking on the shiny weapon in the hands of a snatcher. “What’s that?”

The sword of Gryffindor.

Hearing her gasp, Y/n leans to the side to get a better view, only to freeze. Blood drained from her face upon seeing the sword. Which was supposed to be locked away in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts. Dread consumed Y/n, followed by confusion and anger. How the fuck did they get the sword? If Voldermort discovered Bellatrix failed to keep it contained he’d have all their heads on a silver platter.

And by the nervous whisper of her sister, Y/n knew Bellatrix felt the same. “Where’d you get that from?” 

“It was in her bag when we searched her,” the snatcher replies calmly, “reckon it’s mine now.” 

Bellatrix moves so quickly everyone is unable to react. Stunning the man, the sword flies into her grip as she spins and incapacitates the snatchers. Y/n follows in suit, petrifying the snatcher closest to her. Shocking the group as they move away from the chaos. 

“Are you mad!!” A whip shoots from Y/n’s wand to wrap around his neck, choking the leader while Bellatrix occupies herself with strangling Greyback. Both witches have crazed expressions, scaring the kids and even their sister. 

Y/n pulled the wip down with force, bringing the snatcher to knees where he then fell to the harsh ground. She kept her grip, moving to Bellatrix while dragging the man along. He grunted and groaned until she finally released the hold, but not before bringing it up and igniting a hard smack to his face. 

“Get out!” Bellatrix ordered, the snatchers struggling to rise to their feet and catch their breath. Keeping her wand raised, Y/n watched her sister grip Ron by his jacket, “Cissy, put the boys in the cellar!” Narcissa grabbed Harry, then Ron when Bellatrix pushed him toward her. “I want to have a conversation with this one,” Hermoine felt like she was going to vomit. “Girl to girl!” 

Wormtail met Narcissa at the top of the stairs. Dragging the boys down as they attempted to fight him off. They were pulled out of sight and thrown into the cellar, Ron shouting after Wormtail as he scurried off. 

Y/n watched Bellatrix inflict torture on Hermoine for only a few minutes before dissociating. The screams from the girl brought back painful memories. Memories of the Longbottoms. Their lost gazes with each curse. Flinching, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut. Picturing Alice and Frank Longbottom withering on the floor. It made her want to jump from the window. Or light herself on fire. 

Her mind was racing. Brain pleading to do the right thing. Opening her eyes she saw Narcissa, Lucius and Draco huddled in front of the fireplace. God she wished Snape was there. He’d know what to do.

And deep down, Y/n knew too.    

When Bellatrix ordered Wormtail to bring Griphook from the cellar, Y/n took the chance to follow him. The decision was made right there. Fuck the outcome and if it cost her her life by the end of the day. Maybe she could manipulate it in her favor. 

Creeping down the stairs, Y/n heard Ron demand for Hermoine to be let go, the woman turning down the corner to see Wormtail’s wand raised at the boy. 

“Get back!” Ron stepped back but his glare never strayed. Y/n had reached the bottom of the stairs right as Griphook approached Wormtail. The traitorous Griffyndor narrowed his eyes at the witch. “You’re not supposed to be down here,” his tone held suspicion.

“And who are you to tell me I’m not, rat?” The name cut him deep judging by his reaction. Y/n kept her chin high, “I merely want to inspect our guests again. After all, we want to be sure this boy is Harry Potter. Correct?” Wormtail was nervous under her stern gaze, but he didn’t believe her for a second.

“I must confirm with--argh!” Peter was thrown back into the bars as Y/n’s hand closed down on his neck, constricting his airway. The action caused those in the cellar to jump by the sudden action. Squeezing, Y/n leaned closer to whisper in his ear. 

“You will go upstairs with the Goblin like you were ordered to and say nothing. Do not cross me, rat, I will know if you do.��� He grunted as Y/n shook him, adding, “I’m sure my husband would be more than pleased to deal with you if you chose to speak freely rather than follow your orders and stay quiet. Understood?” At his rapid nod, Y/n let go of the man, a coughing sput releasing from Peter before he pushed Griphook to start going up the stairs. 

Once they were gone, Y/n turned her attention to the teens, leaning against the side of the wall with a bored expression. “You’re a long way from home, Harry Potter.”

The boy in question clenched his jaw, “You knew it was me this whole time.” The statement resulted in a scoff. 

“Of course I did. Which is hilarious considering I am probably the only person up there who’s had the least interaction with you, yet for some peculiar reason…,” her tone was mocking, “no one else is confident in their speculation. Well except Draco,” she shrugs, causing Harry’s eyes to widen slightly. “Why he’s remaining quiet is likely for the same reasons I am. But who am I to throw him under the bus to my sister?” 

“Seems a bit odd you’re not,” he commented as he approached the gate. Moving so they were directly in front of each other. Only the bars separating them. They were so close Harry noticed the puffiness of her cheek where Lucius struck her. Plus the tiny specks of blood on her neck that must’ve splattered when she beat the man. It made him shudder, “Why is that?”

“Call it a promise I made to a friend.” 

“A friend?” he countered with a scoff, “I find that hard to believe.” A chuckle left her lips, bouncing against the walls. “Like anyone from the Order would align themself with you without telling the rest.” Now that humored the witch. The fact he went right to believing it was someone from the Order she was in contact with was hilarious considering the little deductible that took place months prior. 

“You’d be surprised with how secretive the Order can be. Even the man who established it in the first place kept many things,” that got his attention, tensing with his hands clenched into fists. “Dumbledore,” the whisper of his name sent a wave of emotion through Harry. Anger, sadness. He hated the way Y/n said it in a mocking tone. “Yeah, I really don’t care whether you believe me or not. But the idea of you dying today is something I cannot let happen.”

Harry became confused, brow raising. What the fuck was she playing at? First she plays dumb to her family by not identifying him. Then she does nothing when they drag the boys to the cellar, where several of Harry’s supporters are being held captive. She sits back while Bellatrix harms Hermoine. Now she’s insinuating she wants to help them escape?

She has to be fucking with them.

“What game are you playing?” His question surprises Y/n.

“Game?” 

Anger replaced the confusion by her lack of remorse. But then again he was foolish to believe a death eater like herself was capable of such. “This! I don’t understand what side you’re on. It’s obvious you’re not completely loyal to him--you’re actions today prove that.” Y/n mentally cursed herself for being obvious. If Harry caught on to her, much like Snape did, then how long before Voldemort and those closest to him did. “You say and do things that make me think you know more than you’re letting on,” her expression faltered, Harry clocking it with a mental victory. “You saved Bill for reasons not even you can explain. You hate your family. Which is your only redeeming quality--.”

“Ouch.” 

He ignored her comment. “What do you gain from this? Why are you not screaming for Vold--.” Y/n launched herself at the bars, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket to hold him against the gate. Ron moved to help, but was frozen upon Y/n raising her wand at him.

“Don’t say his name!” She whisper-screamed, face painted with fury and fear. Harry snapped his jaw shut, watching the woman frantically look around as though in search of something. Or someone.

“Do you have a death wish, Potter?” she finally said once deeming it was safe. Yet her heated expression stayed locked on Harry. “Surely you should know by now saying his name will attract unwanted attention.” Muttering curses under her breath, Harry heard her call him, “stupid boy.” 

Struggling against her grip, Harry was amazed by Y/n’s strength despite it having been displayed twice now in the form of beating her brother-in-law and assaulting Wormtail. She proved herself at the burrow to be a powerful witch in the sense of magic. But Lord he would not want to go toe-to-toe with her in a fight. 

“Let me be clear, Potter,” her grip tightened, Harry grunting as his head pressed against the bar. “I personally don’t care about the outcome of this war. Whether you vanquish him or he kills you once and for all, what matters to me is my freedom in the end. Either in the form of walking away from this world in one piece, or entering the pits of hell waiting for me.” She paused, staring so deep into his eyes the boy shuddered, “Ideally, it would be best suited for me if you came out on top, Potter. That way the mark on my arm no longer makes me feel like a dog on its leash. Tracking my every move--giving him power over me. I want it gone.” 

Harry hadn’t thought of it that way. But now with her confirmation of his speculations, Harry was confident in Y/n’s disloyalty to Voldermort. Which now made him question her marriage to Snape. 

“You doubting my role among his ranks proves to me you’re actually a smart boy. Like Snape, you’ve caught on quick to my ulterior motives.” The confession made his eyes widen. Fully convinced their union held a deeper message than simply two Death Eaters finding love in the midst of a war. 

But what did that make of Snape? The question plagued Harry’s thoughts. 

“You’re right to accuse me, Potter, and you’d act the same if in my shoes. I’ve suffered enough,” her voice fell to a whisper. “Tortured, beaten, locked away in a cold, dark, cell for half my life…..I’ve watched family members die, I’ve watched them lose themselves to madness--while trying so hard to prevent my own descent,” she leans closer, “Which I obviously failed to do. There’s nothing left for me to give anymore.” 

Her grip on his collar loosens, allowing Harry to lean slightly away from the bars to get some space. However her hold still stays, “I don’t expect you to understand, and I’m not asking for sympathy. Hate me all you want when this is over. I know if you come out on top I’ll be locked away forever, but somehow, and I’m not exactly sure why, a piece of whatever soul I have left is saying you need to get out of this mansion.” Finally she released Harry, the boy stumbling back by the slight push she gave. 

Y/n cleared her throat, chin held high. “So, are you going to shut up and listen to what I have to say? Or are you going to be a little boy and get you and your friends killed tonight with your impulsiveness?”

Harry said nothing. Maintaining the intense eye-contact that would’ve sent any other person running for the hills. Her cold, dark eyes were far opposite of the warm, loving ones her cousin Sirius possessed. His aura drew people in. Hers made them repulsed. 

Everything in Harry screamed for him to reject her proposal. To somehow figure a plan out on his own or act on survival instinct.

But it wasn’t just his life at risk. His friends were in danger, as were the innocent people captured like Ollivander and Griphook. He needed to be smart.

A simple nod had the ginger beside him flabbergasted. 

“Are you mad!” Ron chokes, appalled by the idea of working with the Death Eater. He looked at Harry like he had two heads. “You want to trust this psychopath?!” Y/n wanted to laugh at the insult, but instead settled for a smirk, frightening the boy even more.

He wasn’t wrong if one were to get technical. Y/n portrayed both psychopathic and sociopathic tendencies. Any professional would clock in an instant. Much like a psychopath, Y/n’s charming, lacks a sense of remorse and love, and uses relationships for her gain. Then on the other hand she’s impulsive, unpredictable, explosive when provoked and will resort to physical violence. Look at what she did to Lucius, Wormtail, and now Harry. She, however, does appear to have an attachment to Snape--often aligned with sociopaths. But again, though Y/n may care for him to a degree, she is still using him to further her goal. 

Harry gave Ron a frustrated look, “You got any ideas?” They all knew the answer and the silence indicated as such. Sighing in defeat, Ron glared at Y/n, who only returned it with a smirk.

“That settles it,” her cheeky expression focused on Harry. A non-verbal deal sealing itself right there. “Shall we begin?”

Everything that happened once the boys emerged from the staircase was a blur.

After summoning Dobby, the former Malfoy house elf who Y/n at one point enjoyed the company of prior to Azkaban, Y/n took her place in the foyer once more with the rest of her family. She’d laid out carefully to the boys and elf what to do once she left them. Dobby first transported the other prisoners to a location Ron suggested. Then Y/n incapacitated Wormtail on his way down to the cellar as she passed by him, dragging the traitor out of sight. 

When she returned upstairs she noticed the skeptical expression Narcissa directed at her. Y/n didn’t let it get to her, instead focusing on the task. Hermione laid on the ground, barely moving. With Bellatrix occupied with interrogating Griphook, Y/n went to check on the girl. Immediately Hermione made a sound and flinched away, but Y/n grasped her arm firmly causing her to still.

“If you want to leave this manor alive and in one piece with your friends, you ought to stay quiet,” Y/n whispered in her ear, followed by the utterance of a healing incantation. Hermione obeyed, however she was stiff like a stature against Y/n’s touch. 

Most of the spells were non-verbal as to not draw attention to them. And while Draco and Narcissa were well aware of what Y/n was doing, one death glare from the witch had them turning away. Bruises started to disappear. Cuts slowly healed. Y/n could not do much for the mental torture Hermoine endured, but she at least could sooth the physical injuries. Frowning at the sight of ‘mudblood’ carved into the teens arm, she issued most of the spells at patching the skin there, leaving only a faint trace of the words. Hermione visibly relaxed, even squeezing Y/n’s hand in a silent thank you. 

The older witch could only imagine the thoughts racing through her head. Wondering what the hell Y/n was doing and if she were serious about getting them out. After all, she did nothing to stop Bellatrix and instead disappeared when the torture began. Yet here she was. Offering a flicker of hope by healing her wounds with claims of helping them escape. 

Once satisfied with her work, Y/n stood up and backed away from Hermione until she was pressed against the wall. 

Then all hell broke loose when Bellatrix implied killing the witch. Harry and Ron were to wait for Y/n’s signal but given the circumstances they said, ‘To hell with it,’ and ran up with wands shooting off spells left and right. Disarming Bellatrix and initiating a two-vs-two duel with Draco and Narcissa. Y/n couldn’t even bask in the joy she felt watching Lucius get blasted away with a dramatic “ah!”, she had to act fast. 

Taking the discarded knife, Y/n dragged a shrieking Hermione to her feet. Pulling the teens back to her chest, Y/n placed the knife level with her neck with a hiss, “follow my lead.” Hermione froze, tears leaking down her cheeks. Y/n walked her to the middle of the foyer, until they were beneath the chandelier, “Stop!!” The fighting ceased.

“Drop your wands,” Bellatrix ordered, but the boys were too focused on Y/n and Hermione to listen. Angry and betrayed at jumping to conclusions, Y/n quickly penetrated their minds, “Tread carefully boys,” Their faces consorted into shock, the woman shushing them with her gaze before they could react aloud. “Let’s not fuck this up more.”

Bellatrix shouted again, “I said drop’em!” obeying, their wands hit the floor with a *clank*. “Pick them up, Draco, now!” The blonde boy hurried to retrieve the wands, Bellatrix gliding up to where Y/n stood. “Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Leaning into Hermione’s space, the witch whispered in a taunting tone. “It’s Harry Potter. He’s all bright and shiny and new again.” As she spoke, Harry’s face returned to normal. The effect of the stinging jinx wearing off. 

“Just in time for the Dark Lord.” Y/n loosened her grip on Hermione, air catching in her throat as she sent Harry a panicked look. Bellatrix however, appeared pleased, “call him.” Heads turned to Draco. Save for Y/n, who caught movement in the distance. Locking eyes with the figure, her head gestured up to the chandelier. Sending a mental message of what to do. They were gone in the blink of an eye, Y/n peering at her nephew like everyone else. 

Draco was visibly nervous and scared, shuddering under his father’s scrutiny. Unable to perform the task even when told a second time by his aunt. Lucius pushed past him, glaring at Harry as he pulled his sleeves up to reveal the Dark Mark. The ink became darker when his hand raised over it. 

Suddenly, the eerie sound of creaking interrupted the intense silence. Eyes drawing up to find Dobby perched on the chandelier, his hands occupied with unscrewing the latch keeping the mighty object attached to the ceiling. Despite instructing the elf, Y/n couldn’t help but utter, “oh dear.” 

The latch released, Bellatrix shrieking as Y/n shoved Hermione away before bringing her arms up at the last second. The last image she saw before the world became black was Ron catching the girl. Noise drowned out until eventually, all became silent. 

When she woke God knows how long later, Y/n was in a daze. Her head pounded, body ached. Vision disoriented and any sound was muffled. A gentle touch on her shoulder brought her back to reality, her senses coming together to form a clear picture of her surroundings. When it finally did, Y/n found Snape seated in a chair beside her. The man dressed in his usual black clothes minus the dramatic robes. Dark circles beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t had a pleasant night’s rest in ages. 

“What the hell,” her voice croaked due to the dryness in her throat. Coughing, she sat up and was immediately met with a glass of water thrusted in her face. Taking it Y/n downed half the glass, a couple droplets spilling down her chin. “Thank you,” she wiped them away, adjusting her position on the unfamiliar bed. Snape placed the glass back on the nightstand, helping Y/n move so she was upright with her legs hanging off the side of the bed. 

Glancing down, she realized she was still in the same dress from the manor. “How long was I out?” Part of her feared the answer. 

“About six hours. It’s just past midnight.”

“Mmp,” she stretched her neck, brushing hair from her face. It was the morning of May 2nd. Scanning the room, Y/n squinted, catching the lit fireplace and stained glass windows first. Followed by the striking detail of the walls covered in moving portraits on the opposite side of the room leading to an office space. Some of whom were glaring at her. 

It hit her then where she was. 

Hogwarts.

“How’d you know?” Pushing off the bed, Y/n made a beeline to the table displaying a vast collection of alcohol. Reaching for the fire whiskey, she poured herself a glass and downed it in one go. 

“Your sister,” he responded, not moving from his seat, hands clasped together, “Narcissa was rather adamant I come to retrieve you after the little spectacle that took place tonight.” Y/n let out a chuckle lacking any humor, pouring herself another whiskey. 

“I’m surprised she’d do such a thing. Considering I humiliated her and her family in front of people. Would’ve thought she’d finish me off while I was down.” Snape narrowed his eyes, disapproving of her statement. Y/n only returned the look, twirling her glass, “It’s what I would’ve done. You should’ve seen the number I did on Lucius.”

“The fool put his hands on you,” Snape’s voice had an edge to it, anger seeping through. Shocking the witch by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “Had I been there he would’ve lost them.”Oh… Now that had a spark filling Y/n’s stomach. Almost like arousal.

She brushed it off with, “I’d be a little offended if you didn’t, husband.” Her teasing made him roll his eyes, “Besides the masterpiece I created on that swine, the words I had for my dear sister were not pleasant and frankly would’ve had her laying into me if she had the balls to. Had the roles been reversed, I don’t think I could have let her live.” Y/n scoffed at herself, sipping her drink instead of gulping it, “Quite the hypocrite aren’t I?”

Snape stayed silent, only responding with an expression that read, “You said it, not me.” Y/n shrugged, not finding his indirect opinion offensive. Instead she opted to ask the question plaguing her since she woke up, “What have you heard recently?” Snape inhaled sharply. 

“He’s angry. Very angry.” Y/n stiffened, setting her now empty glass back on the table. He continued, “I did not stick around for what he had in store for you sisters and brother-in-law, my only concern was getting you here after Narcissa called. But….there’s been a shift. We all can feel it.”

Y/n tightened her jaw, processing the news with a nod. “Any word on the boy's whereabouts.” Snape raised his brows, face conforming to one she knew all too well. Snape read her like a book. 

“You mean if they escaped safely?” The accusation did not come as a surprise. “You’ll be pleased to know they did.” Snape noted her sigh of relief, but did not comment. By now the married couple easily picked up on cues and communicated without saying anything. He didn’t need her to tell him her role in helping Harry Potter escape the Manor. He already knew. “Where did they go--I have no clue,” Pausing to shrug, he added, “Likely the home of someone they trust. But it won’t be long before….”

“I know,” Y/n interrupted with a whisper. Squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned against the table. “We’re in the endgame now.” 

The creaking of the chair filled her ears, followed by footsteps. Opening her eyes when she felt Snape gently place his hand on hers. Stroking her bruised knuckles with his thumb. 

“We’ll get through this,” He told her confidently. “I promise if it’s the last thing I do, you’ll get your freedom when this is all over.” 

Breath catching in her throat, moved by his words, Y/n raised her free hand to caress Snape’s jaw. Offering a small, but sad smile--surprising both of them by connecting their lips briefly in a short, sweet kiss, as her eyes glossed over, “as will you.” 

Almost 24 hours later

Running. She was running. Faster than ever, the words of Lucius echoing in her mind, overtaking the screams of the raging battle behind her. “He’s with the Dark Lord,” was the answer to her demand for Snape's whereabouts. Dread consumed her. Drowning the witch as though she had been pulled out to sea. 

Voldermort pausing the battle only to summon Snape had to be anything but good. Lucius confirmed her suspicion by how scared he looked just telling her. Like he expected her to kill him right there for finding Snape and bringing him to the Dark Lord. Instead Y/n shoved him away and broke into a sprint. Heading straight for the docks. 

“Harry--!” Hermoine’s warning was overshadowed by the fast approaching footsteps. The teens gripped their wands, ready for an attack only to freeze at the sight of Y/n running through the doorway. She met Ron and Hermonie’s eyes first, only to draw them to the side, where she was met with a grieving sight. The teens swear they saw her knees buckle, a sound of anguish leaving her throat.

“No-no-no!” Y/n pushes past the teens, kneeling down in a hast and practically shoving Harry to the side. Y/n cups Severus’s face in her hands, eyes filling with tears as blood paints them. “No-no, Severus! Severus!” She frantically looked him over, horrified by his state. His throat was cut, the woman placing a hand over the gaping wound, and bite marks cut into his clothing. 

“Oh God. Sev, you can’t--you can’t leave me,” her chest tightened, tone dropping to barely a whisper. “Not like this. Not like this.” They were supposed to survive the war. Together. They’d made it this far, after so many obstacles and death around them. Y/n and Snape had to live. 

Otherwise what was the point in going on in life. 

The trio were at a loss for words. Stunned by the scene in front of them. Of course they knew the two were married, but it had been revealed at Malfoy Manor it was simply a matter of convenience. Not believing love played any role in the marriage. However, witnessing Y/n in complete despair over Snape made them think the opposite.

They watched in silence. Harry’s attention on Y/n. Her body shaking, face distraught and unsure of where to begin. Snape was losing consciousness, and it was obvious he was running out of time. Clutching onto Y/n’s forearms, the man's eyes softened in a way Harry had never seen. “I’m here,” Y/n caressed his cheek with the hand not holding his neck together. Comforting him. Like she knew he wasn’t going to make it and wanted to make sure he left the world knowing at least one person cared about him. 

Well, she was the only person.

Snape’s eyes turned glossy, flickering between Y/n and Harry. It broke whatever was left of Y/n’s heart seeing him cry. Full of pain and minutes from death.

Something in his tears made her stiffen, and by Snape’s reaction Y/n knew exactly what it was. “Take them,” he pleaded to Harry, the boy confused and looking to the Death Eater for answers. Snape whimpered again, “Take them, please.”

“His tears,” Y/n turned to Harry wide-eyed, a shaky hand reaching out, “get me something--quickly!” He relays the order to Hermoine, who presents a small vial from her bag. Passing it to Harry, he extends it to Y/n, who snatches the vial and opens the top with her teeth. Her rapid movements slow as she gently presses the container to Snape’s cheek. Teardrops falling down until the vial is filled to the brim. They glow against the glass.

“Take them to the pevensie,” Snape’s voice was hoarse, Y/n handing the vial to Harry with care. Pocketing it, Harry glanced up when Snape whispered, “look at me.” Against her palm, Y/n felt his pulse begin to slow. Beats growing apart by the second. 

A knot formed in her throat. Clenching onto his hand like her life depended on it.

Harry stared into the eyes of the man he hated most in the world. Realizing the words were meant for him. More tears ran down Snape’s cheeks, “you have your mother’s eyes.” And with one last squeeze to his wife’s hand, catching her gaze, Severus Snape took his last breath. Head falling limp against the glass, sending Y/n into despair. 

Whatever remnants of her heart broke into a million pieces. Grieving the loss of her only friend and companion. 

Her sobs echoed, the teens watching with solemn faces as the woman brought the now deceased Snape into her arms. One hand on his head to lay it against her chest, resting her chin on his own, the other wrapped arm around his shoulders. Cradling him without any care of the blood coating her skin and clothes. 

None of that mattered to her. 

Her only focus was the man in her arms. 

The sight of Y/n gently rocking Snape was too emotional for the teens. Hermione wiping away moisture from her cheeks, sniffing as she leaned into Ron, whose eyes also shined. They had no words to describe how they felt watching a Death Eater like Y/n--who’d they witnessed her violent nature first hand--in hysterics over Snape. Who’s marriage to him was something they questioned. Believing it to be a ruse. 

However, witnessing the tragic display, they began to think otherwise. 

“We may have not loved each other like we wanted to,” Y/n’s whimpered, opening her eyes to meet Harry’s. The heartbreak shined through, “But he was my peace.” More tears rolled down her cheeks, arms tightening around Snape’s shoulders, resting her cheek on his hair. Another sob left her, “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

Another five minutes passed. Hiccups replacing the witch’s outpour of cries. When it slowed and came to a halt, Y/n didn’t bother wiping away the residue. Letting the tears mix into the sweat and blood. 

Her head that had been previously turned away from Harry to hide into Snape’s hair maneuvered so it was facing him. Never letting go of the man. “You should go,” the roughness of her voice matched her state. Red eyes that the whites were barely noticeable, puffiness in her cheeks. “There’s not much time before he runs out of patience,” he referring to Voldemort. Harry tensed, and Y/n gestured to the vial in his hands, “I don’t know all of what he wanted to show you, but if it’s what I think it is….” Harry heard her gulp, “then you’ll understand the things he--and even I--had to do.”

‘Had to do?’ Harry wondered, his expression giving away what he was thinking by the way Y/n shook her head. Unwilling to give him the answers right there. Whatever it was, Harry was anxious at finding out. Remembering the events of the last year in an attempt to identify clues. 

A truly difficult task considering all the shit that happened since the previous May. 

“Please,” her croak brought him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up from the floor to see Y/n on the edge of another breakdown. But she held it together, holding Harry to a firm gaze. The next words leaving her mouth giving only a mere indication of what the Boy who Lived had in store for him when he tapped into Snape’s memories. 

“Don’t let it be for nothing.” 

19 Years Later….

Gray clouds covered the sky like a blanket in west Cornwall. So thick, not even a glimmer of the sun’s ray peaked through. Cool winds breezing, making leaves fly in the air. From above gentle rain fell, hitting the umbrella Narcissa held as she crossed into Blackmere cemetery. The gate creaked behind her, causing a black crow that had been perched on the brick to fly away. 

Draco stayed in the car, allowing his mother privacy after she denied his request to join her. The woman was adamant about going alone, “I’ll only be a moment, darling. Keep the car warm for us.”

Umbrella in one hand and a single white rose in the other, Narcissa followed the pavement trail to her destination. Passing the many tombstones of her relatives, including her young cousin, Regulus. Her movement slowed to read the words engraved on the stone, ‘Born 23 April 1961 he was taken from us at seventeen. Beloved son, and friend: we who loved you will watch for you in the night sky; for surely you will race across the heavens faster than any star’. 

Offering a silent prayer in respect, Narcissa continued down the path. Passing her parents, aunts, uncles, more cousins. Her head tipped a brief second when she strolled by Bellatrix’s. Finally she reached the plot she came for, knot forming in the back of her throat as her eyes landed on the tombstone.

A monolith of black marble stood about two feet and drove into the ground surrounded by a plethora of white Camellias. The only bit of color that stood out was the small bouquets of peonies, carnations, and lilies leaning against the stone. A tell tale sign her sister Andromeda, Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione had already stopped by that morning. 

The flowers from Andromeda were expected. But, even after nearly 20 years, Narcissa still found herself surprised by the gesture from the other two. It had been a few years after the war when the woman caught the two in the cemetery and demanded to know why they were there that Narcissa discovered why. 

“She saved my son,” Mrs. Weasley brushed away a tear that escaped, “And my daughter. Had it not been for her my Bill would’ve died that night. In the Astronomy tower. She could’ve easily left him there…but she didn’t. And Ginny,...” Molly couldn’t get the rest of the words out, becoming emotional, “For that, I’ll forever be grateful.” 

Hermione felt the heat rush to her cheeks, stuttering slightly, “There were many times she had the opportunity to sell us out--to give up Harry. At the burrow, the manor,” the girl flinched, the memories too painful to recall, “even during the battle. She chose not to. And while I know it was mostly for her own personal gain, I can’t help but feel indebted to her. Her actions saved my friends and I. For that alone, I will pay my respects.” 

Stepping forward, Narcissa placed the white rose on top of the monolith. Fingers trailing along the smooth surface before moving back to draw her eyes down. Lingering her gaze on the black & white photo next to the writing.

Carved into the marble, the engraving was simple yet elegant, ‘Y/n M/n Black: Born 10 June 1967 -- Died 2 May 1998, Finally Free.’ 

Narcissa held back the tears as she bowed her head, having cried enough over the last 19 years since Y/n died. She always thought back to those last two days. The manor. The battle. The speckle of hope at rekindling their relationship Narcissa felt when the two connected in the woods……

Narcissa let out of a breath of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when Y/n emerged from the treeline. Falling into step with the rest of the Death Eaters as they marched towards the castle. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, the light competing with the fires still burning within Hogwats. 

“Where have you been?” Narcissa whispered when she felt Y/n beside her, careful not to draw any attention to them. Glancing ahead she spotted Bellatrix skipping alongside Voldemort. “We’ve been looking everywhere--.” She cut herself off when she finally turned to her sister, horror filling her eyes by the amount of dried blood she saw. Her hand instantly came up to grip Y/n’s arm, “My God, what happened to you.” Her eyes searched for the source of injury, “Are you still bleeding--?”

“It’s not mine,” Y/n breathed, body aching from exhaustion. Voice dry and hoarse, in desperate need of water. Relieved, Narcissa loosened her grip, however the worry in her heightened upon seeing Y/n’s eyes glossen. Something she hadn’t seen in 17 years. “Severus…..” 

The witch gasped, peering at Lucius to see if he was listening, only to find him staring ahead. Narcissa gulped, moving her hand from Y/n’s wrist to her shoulder, “Is he…” The shake of Y/n’s head, followed by her sharp inhale was enough of an answer. Narcissa’s heart plummeted to her stomach. 

“Is Draco….”

“He’s in the castle,” Narcissa lowered her arm back to her side. An overwhelming amount of guilt surfaced at the fact her son was alive and well, but Snape--the man who protected him and her sister’s husband--was dead. 

“And you're certain because….” Y/n’s blank tone trailed, side eyeing her sister with a matching expression. Narcissa paled, but remained strong, not meeting her stare.

“I just do,” hands clasped in front of her stomach, holding them tightly.  “And I will find him if it’s the last thing I do.” Y/n studied her, observing for any cues that would confirm the doubt she had of her sister. Once satisfied, she turned away, although the nagging feeling something was off remained. But she was too tired to question it. 

It was then she noticed Hagrid tied up, trailing behind them carrying something in his arms. She’d always had a soft spot for the gentle half-giant. Remembering how he’d always be the first to greet students at the beginning of the term. Always a kind face, bringing an ounce of joy to the girl when all else around her was darkness. Seeing him bound was like a dagger to Y/n’s chest. Then bile rose to her throat when her eyes focused on the figure he held. 

“Is that who I think it is?”

Narcissa turned to see what Y/n was looking at, stiffening immediately and snapping her head forward. “Yes.” 

Y/n wanted to scream. Scream until her voice disappeared. Her jaw hurt by how hard she was clenching it shut to prevent herself from lashing out. Grinding her teeth to the point she feared they’d crack. Y/n wanted to curse at the world. 

It had all been for nothing…..

Feeling the fury radiate off her sister, Narcissa made the impulsive decision to say the truth before Y/n attempted to kill Voldermort herself. Having pieced together the younger witches animosity and disloyalty to the Dark Lord ages ago. With her husband gone and assuming the boy who’d be the saving grace dead, Y/n was a ticking time bomb. 

Leaning close, practically shoving herself onto her sister, Narcissa made it look like she had stumbled and Y/n caught her to the Death Eaters. Face hidden by her hair, Narcissa’s voice barely kissed against Y/n’s ear, “He’s alive.” 

A cold chill ran amongst the witch, Narcissa felt it. Indicating her sister heard her loud and clear. This was then met with Y/n taking Narcissa’s hand. When their eyes locked, Narcissa saw what Y/n was trying to convey, to which the woman nodded. An exhale released from both, Y/n removing her grip and the two stayed silent for the remainder of the journey. 

When they reached the courtyard and Voldemort began his speech, Narcissa felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning to find Y/n watching her closely, face full of sorrow and dejection, even regret. 

“I wish things had been different,” she said softly, startling Narcissa. Then she offered a small shrug accompanying a sad smile, “maybe then we could’ve been friends.” Friends. Not sisters. 

A lump formed in Narcissa’s throat, water lining her eyes, “I would’ve liked that.” A moment passed between them. Both wanting to say everything, yet unable to put it into words. Narcissa broke the silence with the small phrase that summed up the last 17 years. 

“I’m sorry.” For everything, she wanted to add but felt it wasn’t welcomed. She only hoped her sister got the message. 

Y/n’s face never changed, relaxing her shoulders with her deep exhale, telling Narcissa she did. 

“I’m sorry too.” 

Narcissa sighed as the memory came to an end, tilting her head up at the sky. It still pained her after all these years. Wondering where it all went wrong. One moment Y/n was beside her, listening to Voldermort demand loyalty from the other side. The next she’s lost in the chaos following the reveal Harry was alive. Narcissa had initially believed Y/n apparated off the grounds like many other followers had done, the Malfoy matriarch taking her son and marching away from the castle with Lucius following behind. She truly believed Y/n had beat them to the manor, only to find it empty. Then when her sister failed to arrive home that night, Narcissa brushed it off as Y/n laying low. Her worst fear being Y/n had been arrested. Dragged back to Azkaban for all eternity. 

Narcissa prayed it was the first theory. Refusing to believe her sister had become a prisoner again. 

But her hopes were crushed upon the arrival of Professor McGonagall and a member of the newly reformed Ministry of Magic two days later. Only it wasn’t to deliver the news Y/n was in Azkaban. No.

It was a death notification. Two at that.

While Bellatrix’s death was straightforward the details of Y/n’s were still unclear decades later. From what McGonagall informed her, Y/n had been caught in an explosion during the final stages of the battle in the Great Hall. She and Ginny Weasley in a 2v1 duel with Rabastan Lestrange, when suddenly a Death Eater caught them off guard by casting bombarda maxima, resulting in Y/n to push the girl away. Witnesses reported seeing Y/n thrown off her feet by the force of the spell and through the stained glass window behind her. Her screams echoing as she fell and the debris followed her down. 

 They never found her body. Based on the location, it was presumed Y/n died on impact when she hit the lake from the height of the fall. Sinking to the bottom. Whatever was left of her was likely torn by the creatures inhabiting the waters. 

The images of Y/n’s suspected death haunted Narcissa’s nightmares for months. Lucius woke up to her cries every night. Offering comfort as best as he could considering affection was not a common occurrence for the couple. And while he had the same distaste for his sister-in-law as she did him--still holding a grudge for when she beat him to a pulp--at the end of the day his wife lost her sister. Both of them in one night. She and Andromeda were now the last immediate family members of the noble and ancient House of Black. 

Everyone else was dead. 

Sighing, Narcissa began to speak. Pretending the casket in the ground contained her sister’s body and not empty. “Scorpius starts at Hogwarts this fall. Draco is at his wits end. Understandable really,” she hummed with a small frown, “with all that’s happening with Astoria, I reckon it won’t be a pleasant year.” Thinking of her grandson, Narcissa’s heart breaks a little. “But I hope Scorpius manages to find some solace at school. He’s already packing his trunk even though there’s still two months until he leaves,” she laughs softly, “Last week he found your spell books…..”

Drawing her gaze down, she finds Y/n’s picture. Looking absolutely beautiful in her white dress and simple veil, taken the day of her wedding to Snape. The image enchanted, capturing the moment she gave a genuine smile to the camera. A rare sight. The way she laid against the chair’s armrest with the window light coming through made the photo look like it was straight from the 1950s. Not to mention how timeless Y/n appeared. It was one of the very few pictures Narcissa was able to find of her sister. And it was her favorite amongst the bunch. 

“He’d snuck into the attic one morning. Lucius about had a fit, and Draco didn’t know what to do,” Narcissa closed the umbrella, the rain had stopped. “They’re in a safe space, need not to worry. But seeing as Scorpius is ambitious like the rest of us--no doubt he’ll be in Slytherin,” her tone had a hint of playfulness, “I find they’ll be in his possession soon enough. We promised, well I promised, that he can have them once he’s in his fourth year, if he maintains good grades.” 

Another sigh leaves her, shivering at the sudden breeze. “You know, part of me believes I’ll never find closure when it comes to us, Y/n. Or with your death,” her chest tightens, “Not having your body makes it hard to really move on. Plus, there are times where I swear I see you at the treeline of the Manor. Or strolling the streets of London,” her eyes flicker to the dirt, “Makes me have the slightest hope….that maybe, you’re still out there…..” A shiver ran down Narcissa’s spin as the words left her mouth. It was the first time she’d said them aloud. And after holding the sneaky suspicion of her sister being alive to herself for 19 years, she felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. 

“That maybe you survived the fall and conjured up an extravagant escape. I often picture you made a life in America--or are currently traveling the world. You always said you would when you were a child. A foolish thought I know,” her chuckle was dry, laughing at herself for even considering the idea. “It would do me right to believe like everyone else. But if by some chance I’m right,” her bottom lip quivered, gathering the courage to say the words she desperately wanted to say. “I understand why. At first I was enraged--feeling betrayed that you’d go that far. But after many years of reflecting…I can’t bring myself to be angry if you did fake your death.”

Another pause, “After all, what you wanted most in the world was your freedom.” Leaves crunched beneath her boots as she shifted her stance, “Free from this world. Free from us. Free from everything. I cannot blame you for wanting peace. I’d be a hypocrite to view otherwise.” Especially since she was able to avoid prison time with the rest of Voldemort’s followers because of what she did. 

Narcissa looked at Y/n’s picture once more. Watching the moving image repeat to commit her dazzling smile to memory. Wanting to remember her as the once beautiful kind soul she’d been before Azkaban, instead of a walking Devil historians painted her to be. A narrative Narcissa found herself battling lawsuits to erase. Even with Harry Potter revealing details of Y/n’s role in protecting him during the war, people still focused on the horrible things. 

That’s how she was remembered. A crushed, darkened soul. 

As Narcissa stared at the headstone one last time, she was completely unaware that a few feet away, perched on the monolith of their parents, was a black crow watching her intently. Listening to her every word.

And what the witch didn’t know, what she failed to realize after all these years, was that this crow had been coming to the cemetery every year. On the same day. Sitting in the same spot. Watching her place a single white rose on the grave, which the crow would carry away once Narcissa departed. 

Flying through the skies without a care in the world, now that she was free.

“I hope wherever you are, Y/n, you’ve found peace.” 

[wastelandsfavorite]

DRUNK-DAZED

Return of kpop y/n. Part one listen to Drunk-Dazed by Enhypen

Faceclaim: IU

Yuki features on yet another one of Y/N’s songs, this time he gets to be more involved in the processes. And goodbyes are weird when you have fans as passionate as you do.

I lowkey want to flesh this out for an actual miniseries. Like with plot and everything. Lmk what y’all think

yourinstagram

yourinstagram Drunk-Dazed, Featuring yukitsunoda0511, prod. agustd

yukitsunoda0511 I think this one was my favorite..

formulawhat Yuki entering his kpop idol era 😩

-Liked by yukitsunoda0511

ynlefteye Honestly if driving doesn’t work out for him 👀👀

danielricciardo Yuki is my bias

yourinstagram Mine too ☺️☺️

yukinooo 🤨🧐 I mean same but…

agustd

agustd Thank you alphataurif1

Yoongi had left already. He took his things and some extra thumb drives back to his own studio for some finishing touches as you and Yuki were left alone in your apartment.

With Yuki having to travel between races, home, and every once in a while out to Korea to also try and meet with you and Yoongi. He was nodding off in the seat across from you.

Even with all of that, and in spite of his personal training getting on him for being up a lot, he still performed well in the sport. His most recent race being a masterclass filled with overtakes and him personally dragging his car into points.

You let him sleep. You cleaned around him.

Taking dishes from the dinner that Yuki offered to cook for the three of you. The best dried tomato spaghetti you’d ever had, with some garlic bread from a small Italian place you didn’t know existed. The two of you had found it while out on a walk in one of the recent meetings.

Yuki stirred awake as you finished up. He stared, his eyes adjusting, “I would’ve helped” he said. His voice cracked from the short but still deep sleep.

“Get your sleep,” you shook your head, “we’re getting the music video done this month so you need the rest.��

The time you got to spend with Yuki almost became too much. Not in that you would start arguing or anything. More so that you became close. Close enough that you couldn’t stand together for long without laughing.

At one point in teaching the two of you the song’s choreography, your loving and always gentle choreographer Seo Chanyeol had to separate you. Yuki became a test to that man’s patience like none other.

Never raising his voice, Chanyeol looked towards Yuki as his child. A quick glare to shut him up momentarily. Not letting the eye contact linger before turning away to still his own laughter.

After promo, after practices, after it all. When everything is said and done, your Tik Toks and YouTube videos are filmed, Yuki still has to go back to work. After a month that should have given him rest and relaxation, he’s off and putting himself all into his career. The thing he wants more than anything.

The two of you stand, that airport in Seoul loud around you. Your managers and bodyguards surrounding the two of you. You’re dressed like one of them. Escorting Yuki to the airport with fans crowding him as if he were one of you.

You squeeze his hand in a moment. You don’t leave a lingering touch, for fear that some eagle eyed and trigger happy fan with a camera might spot it. No doubt that small interaction could lead to more.

He separates from the group of you, and into his own group comprised of his own managers, social media personnel, and his personal trainer.

The distance that grows between you isn’t a problem. With the amount of money and resources between the two of you, a ticket from Seoul to Bahrain, or Italy, or wherever the sport takes Yuki means nothing.

It’s the reputation that comes with it. You’ve already had your fair share of dating scandals. And while you’re not banned from dating, what’s the point?

The two of you leave in your separate directions. Not a true goodbye between you. It’ll never be goodbye. But without the promise of privacy, it feels eerily final. Just as it did the last time.

You hope he feels the same. He’d said he did, one night after filming that first video. And he’s come back, with a promise of visiting again. An invite to any race weekend you’d like.

Say the words and he’ll send whoever he has to.

It’s not safe. A relationship for you will never be as safe or secure as if you’d like.

yukitsunoda0511

yukitsunoda0511 So happy to share with you all my second project with yourinstagram, and first time working with agustd. This time I got to be a lot more involved with the creation of this song and it was great.

pierregasly When are you doing your own song?

yukitsunoda0511 👀👀 gnabnahc

formulawhat the question is, who is he eating with?

miniyoong at this point it could be either Yoongi or y/n and it would still make sense.

yukinooo Yungi or Yoonki is the question now.

yourinstagram I can’t wait for next time!

yukitsunoda0511 I’m already thinking about it 😂

[romanarose]

Washed In Black: Chapter 1

Darkish!William Tell x fem!Reader

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Summary: A young cocktail waitress at a casino takes interest in William but he rebuffs her advances. Still, he can't get her out of his head. When he follows her home, he stopped an attempted attack and brings her back to his hotel. Wanting company Will invites her on the road with him, just for the summer before her final year of college... It's just a summer fling, right?

Content and Warnings: No happy ending, oops. Darkish!Will, but not really dark to reader. big ole age gap, reader is 21, Will is early 40's. Attempted rape, reader defends herself but William finishes the job. Will briefly stalks her but there was no nefarious intent. Possessive Will, protective Will, hints too Will having OCD (my personal headcanon), PTSD from both Will and reader, reader has a shitty homelife but not abusive like I usually write. Canon typical violence. Alcohol and smoking from everyone involved. More will likely be added as we go but I'll add them in chapters under "additional warnings"

Immersability: References to reader having hair. She works at a casino as a cocktail waitress, takes place in the US and her and her parents live in the US currently. Reader generally dresses "sexy" in casinos, I know not everyone does for different reasons So I figured I should note that.

Authors Note: This fic has been in my head since last November when I saw this movie. It's my comfort movie and IDC how weird that sounds lol. I've gone back and forth on whether this needs to be a one shot or series, but I think miniseries just makes sense. I'm thinking 3 chapters.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged going forward!

3.5 Words

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Will wasn’t stalking you, really, he wasn’t.

He just wanted to make sure you got home safe. You’d caught his eye all week, bringing him drinks at the casino he was at for the time being, pretty, flattering dresses. He liked that you wore flats instead of heels. You looked more comfortable. He liked that you had a soft smile on your face, and he liked that you were clearly eyeing him. He’s only human, after all. Did he feel a bit of guilt for checking out someone so much younger than him? Yes, of course he did, but it was just looking… right?

You threw that out the window when you sat down next to him and slid him a drink. When Will gives you a quizzical look, you clarify. “Ton Collins. That’s what you drink, isn’t it?”

It was. You’d been paying attention. “Yeah, it is. But I didn’t order one.”

“Don’t worry, this ones on me.” You gesture to where your ballet flats had been traded for Converse. “I’m off the clock”

Will takes a sip. “Still doesn’t explain why you gave me a drink.”

You roll your eyes, but smile still. “Men aren’t the only ones who can buy drinks.”

A little bit of bite to you, he notes before condeeding. “Fair enough.” William takes his new class and holds it up, smiling when you clink it to his.

Fidgeting in your seat, you look around at the bright lights and bustle of the casino as you try to stoke a conversation. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Will can sense your nervousness from two seats down, trying to keep his eyes from the tight red dress wrapped around your body. He tried to stay polite, you were just a kid after all. “William Tell, and your-” His sentence was interrupted by your laughter, bright and jovial and although he didn’t know what was funny, it made him happy to hear. “What’s so funny”

“Nothing!” You shake your head, trying to move on, as you cover the smile on your red lips. Same shade as your dress. When you see he doesn’t buy it, you smile harder and elaborate. “It’s just, I expected you to give me a fake name, but I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“To be soooo” He urges you on.

“So obvious!” A fresh bout of laughter, and while he was aware you were making fun of him, he couldn’t help smiling gently. 

“That is my name.” He lied.

“Yeah, and mine’s maid Marian.”

“You’re thinking of Robin Hood.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

“Whatever.” You tell him your name, and he reaches out to shake your hand. The firm but gentle shake makes your heart skip a beat. He was handsome, a head of straight, fully grey hair, and although you were certain he wouldn’t take kindly to you calling him a DILF, that’s what was going through your head. What appealed the most, however, was his manners. Many a man at this casino had attempted to woo you, to buy you, to assault you. Men were disgusting. With this man, however, although you could tell he was checking you out, it wasn’t leering. You didn’t feel like he was mentally undressing you. He simply said please and thank you and kept to himself and god, it made you want him. You didn’t sleep with the men here as a personal rule… but maybe he could be an acception.

“You can call me Bill, since you don’t like my name.”

“I’m not doing that either.”

She’s a bit of a brat, he notes. “Why not?”

“Too King of the Hill.”

A slight chuckle escaped him. She is trouble.

“Can I call you Will?”

“Whatever makes you happy.” You wouldn't be calling him anything. Will would talk to you while he finished the drink, he didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t going to indulge you. You weren’t the first young cocktail waitress that had made a move on him, and plenty of girls barely old enough to drink spent their time hooking at casinos, but William wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t have anonymous sex, he didn’t really have sex, and he certainly wasn’t entertaining girls young enough to be his daughter… But Will was fighting for his life. You’d scooted over to the chair next to him, had been very clearly leaning in ways to show him your tits, smiling at him with that youthful grin… No, he couldn’t indulge you. 

When you got the hint that he wasn’t about to invite you to his room (he wasn’t staying at the casino anyway), you made a graceful exit, telling him to have a nice night and good luck.

But he couldn’t shake the thought of you.

It was for your safety.

He was just going to make sure you made it out of the crowds okay.

When he saw you were walking home, he was just going to make sure you got home okay. It was dangerous at 2 am for a young girl.

William repeatedly validated his action in his head as he watched you. You were just not being safe. Walking alone, headphones in your ear… something loud and aggressive he assumed by the way you banged your head, did air guitar and drum solo’s… you weren’t paying attention at all. All this was validated on it’s own, however, when William realizes he’s not the only one following you.

The man appears almost out of nowhere not far from the casino and grabs you, pulling you into a dark alleyway before he can jump in. As William runs to the scene, he’s surprised to find you were not quite as helpless as he thought, watching you take a stabber keychain and thrusting it into his side.

“Holy shit” William mutters as he watches the man bleed, but you turn to him, the stabber pointed at his chest.

“WATCH IT!” You yell, but you’re clearly posturing. Your whole body is shaking.

“Relax” William put his hands up, beginning to build his lie. “I saw him following you, I’m not here to hurt you.” 

The man on the ground groans loudly in pain, and your shaking becomes uncontrollable. You drop the stabber and rush into his arms. Jesus, you’re naive. So trusting. Another moan and William looks at the man. He was a rapist. Well, attempted one with you, but men like that dont just rape once.

“Go home.” He tells you. “I’ll take care of this.”

You shout a no. “You can’t leave me alone! We’ll call the police!”

Naive indeed. William takes you a few steps away, holding you by the shoulders. “The police won’t do anything but arrest you for stabbing him.”

Confused, you try to argue. “But it’s self defense, he tried to-”

“Your word against his. Women get arrested for defending themself from rape all the time, it’s hard to prove attempted rape.”

The tears never stopped from your pretty eyes. “Then can’t we just… leave him?”

Sweet young thing… William shook his head. “I’m not leaving a rapist alive.”

The man starts begging for his life, alternating between pleas to you, and then when that doesn’t work, telling William that you were asking for it. That didn't help his case. William carefully guides you, taking you out of the alley and away from the bleeding man. “Stay here” He grabs your dropped airpods and tells you to turn up the music.

And you do. 

Linkin Park, as loud as it can go, still doesn’t drown out all the sounds that came from the alley.

When William came back in sight, he was covered in blood. He thought you should be horrified… but the way you looked at him was like his night in shining amour. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” You surpsise him with your answer.

“Or we can walk, that’s-”

“I don’t wanna go home!” When he looked confused, you elaborate. “It’s lonely there, my parent… they act like I don’t exist, and I’m scared, Will. I’m fucking scared and they are no help. Please, please can’t I go with you?”

Bad idea. “No, I don’t think that’s-”

“Please?”

William heard sirens not far away. The dead man’s screams must’ve alerted someone… fuck, they needed to leave. “Fuck, come on.” William wrapped an arm around her, taking her through the alley. “Don’t look at him.” He kept a hand at her head, keeping her eyes forward. Through the backways and slipping into darkness, William took her to where his car was parked and ripped out of the  parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Are you going to tell me where you live?” He asks but you stay silent. He sighs. “Honey how old are you?”

You hesitate. “26”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to make make sure I won’t get arrested for kidnapping a minor!”

“I work at a casino!”

Okay. Fair point. “Just checking, because you said you lived with your parents.”

“It’s a shit economy.”

“Hey, I’m not judging you, I was in prison by 26.” That was enough to make you turn to him. He glanced over to you. “Yeah, you still wanna stay with an ex con?”

“What were you in prison for” Nosy little girl.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Was it it rape?”

“No”

“Then I don’t really care.”

“You should”

“But I don’t.”

 “Do you really want to stay with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. You can stay with me. For one night, I’m heading out tomorrow.”

“Fine.” A short pause. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine.”

“For all of it.”

“It’s fine.”

When you arrived at the motel and Will opened the door, you were regretting your choice. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Of course his room setup was going to be off putting. He didn’t have an explanation for himself, so he never bothered on the rare occasion someone saw it.

“You’re going to kill me.”

Well that was not what he was expecting. William turned to you. “What?” he reiterated with more vigor.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before groaning. “God dammit I’m so fucking stupid. My dad was right, I was gonna get myself killed some day!”

He called your name. “What are you talking about? I’m not gonna kill you.”

Gesturing vaguely towards the room, all the furniture, paintings, chairs all wrapped up. “Covering the fucking room? Clearly you’re planning to slit my throat and throw away the evidence.”

William pushed past you. “If I slit your throat, the blood would go everywhere, walls, ceiling, all of it. Covering the bedside table won’t do shit.”

“Oh. That’s comforting, I guess.”

“Are you coming in or not?”

Well, what option did you have? You close the door and take in the room. It was so… plain. 

“Why do you cover everything?”

William simply shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He pulls out some clothes, handing you a t shirt and pants and some for himself. “I’m going to shower since I’m covered in blood.” He states plainly, seemingly unphased. “You can shower after, wear these.”

“Thank you.”

After everything was settled, you sat on the bed watching tv while William wrote in a book. “You can lay on the bed, you know. It’s late.”

He didn’t look up. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Oh come on, I’m not taking your damn bed.”

“I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“Ohhhhh mysterious.”

That was enough to make Will turn around, a light smile creeping on his features. “You haven't told me much about yourself either.” He deflected. “What”s a niice girl like you doing in a trashy casino?”

Swinging your legs over the bed, you force yourself up and over to him. “Pays for tuition.”

When you make your way over, Will stands up, looking down at you as his hair flopped in his face. The action closed a lotof distance, bringing him close to you. The left over energy from what happened tonight was buzzing in both of you, unable to sleep despite the late hours of the morning. “Oh yeah? You’re in school?”

“Mhm. Geology at Notre Dame”

“Realy?” He was impressed. 

“Yup, senior year.”

“Hm. Pretty and smart.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. William was so worked up, the brutal murder of the man who attempted to rape her transfering into a sexual energy that was getting hard to control. 

He expected you to get uncomfortable, but you lit up at his words. “You think I’m pretty?”

It was all slipping out now. “You know damn well that you are. All dressed up in those tight, skimpy dresses, showing yourself off, flirting with me all week…” He took a step forward, but you didn’t move back, instead leaning in ever so slightly.

“And you weren’t flirting back?”

William huffed a short laugh. “I was trying not to. You make it awfully hard.”

It was you who closed the gap, feeling his plush lips against yours. His kiss was immediately hungry, starving, William’s mouth opening wide to take all of you in, to taste the expanse of you. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this.” But he made no effort to stop, walking you backwards until you topple on the bed. 

You were winey and desperate, rutting your hips up into him as he pawed at you. “Need you to fuck me.” You beg him. 

“Relax.” Will purrs in your ear, slowly grinding into your spread legs. He was going to take his time with you, fuck you right… but god he was barely holding on himself, so worked up that he needed to release himself somehow. He continued kissing you, licking into your mouth and stifling your pretty little sounds because he just can’t keep his mouth off of you when he feels it. You were shaking.

“Hey,” William pulls back, cupping your face. “Hey, you alright?”

When you look up at him, wide-eyed, Will is stuck by how young you look. “Y-yeah I’m fine I just…” You chuckle nervously. “Not a whole lot of experience in this department.”

Will gives you another few inches of space. “Are you a virgin?”

“No,” You try to assure him, but his intense gaze boring into you did not help the nerves. “Just… not much better.”

Sighing, he drops his forehead to yours. “How old are you?”

“26-”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m 21.”

Another sigh, Will rolled off, but you try to fix it, grabbing at him. “No! Will, I’m sorry, I want you-”

His eyes were pinched closed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… lets just go to sleep.”

Embarrassed and sexually frustrated, you begin to shuffle under the blankets with Will. “Can you… can you hold me?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

William wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his body. You could feel his hardness, but his closeness comforted you. Will made you feel safe.

*

That morning, you were woken up to the sound of Will packing and you made it a point to groan dramatically. “UUUGGHHHH Why the hell are you up so early?”

“I told you, I don’t sleep much” He was folding up his linens, slowly making the room look normal. 

“Ooooo edgy”

“Check out at 10 anyway.”

You grumble, rubbing your face into the pillow. “Do you have to go? Can’t you stay another day?”

Will stopped his movements, pausing before he pulled up a now-uncovered chair to where you lay. With his legs manspreading, he placed his elbows on his knees, folded his hands and leaned towards you. “What’s keeping you here? You clearly don’t care for your parents, your job you can get anywhere, pretty girl like you. What’s keeping you here?”

You’re taken aback by his question, but answer honestly. Early morning grogginess doesn’t leave much room for deception. “Just making enough money to pay for next years school.”

“How much do you think you’ll make this summer.”

You give him an estimate. 

He nods. “Leave with me.”

Blink. “Huh?”

“Travel with me. I’ll pay you what you would make at the end and bring you back to school at the start of the summer. I’ll pay for your food, clothes, anything you need.”

You can’t help but huff at that. “What what money? Sorry, but this isn’t exactly a luxury room.”

Little shit. He grabs one of his bags, opens it, revealing large stacks of hundred dollar bills. “I count cards. I keep to modest means but… there’s no reason I can’t win more.”

“Hooooolyyyyy shit.” He was loaded. Absolutely loaded. You get off the pillow, looking back and forth between Will and the money. There’s no reason you couldn’t go. Well, it was dangerous, a strange man you didn’t know taking you across the country… but you were never one for impulse control. Still, you think of last night. “I’m not… I’m not a hooker.”

“It’s not about sex.” When you look suspicious, he presses on. “It gets lonely on the road. I just… want some company. Two and a half months, just us, like a summer vacation. You’ll have everything you need to finish school, I promise.”

His eyes were earnest, and despite the fact you heard him slaughter a man only feet away from you… you trust him.

A few hours later, you and him were on the road. You sent a text to your boss who was none to happy about quitting with no notice, and left a note for your parents when you got your essential saying you left with a friend. They didn’t care enough to question that you didn’t have any friends in your home town anymore.

Will’s car was old but clean. Comfortable. The next destination was Seattle and after hours of begging, he let you put on your own music instead of the silence.

“What the fuck is this shit.”

“It’s Green Day, I thought you would know Green Day, old man.”

He wanted to wipe that bratty smirk right off her face. “This isn’t any Green Day I know.”

“Yeah, cause you probably only know American Idiot, poser.” When Will turned to you with a cocked eyebrow, you backtrack. “Sorry.”

“That’s what I thought.”

*

When you and Will check into your hotel, he paid in cash. Great, no paper trail in case you’re murdered. Wonderful. Sometimes you wonder what was going through your head when you left with him, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting it. You enjoyed his company so far, even if he was cranky. It was cute.  He was cute. You wanted to suck his dick.

“Here.” Will handed you a wad of cash. “There’s a strip mall down the street, get something nice for tonight.”

You smile up at him cheekily, swaying your hips a bit as you walk over to take the money. Fuck, you had a sugar daddy. “Don’t you wanna come with? Make sure you approve of what I buy, stay on budget?” You graze his hand with your fingers as you take it.

He simple began to unpack his linens. “Your budget is whats there.” There had to be at least $1000. “I gotta take care of this.”

“Ah. The weird room thing.”

“Yes, the weird room thing.”

You left him too it, taking the money and going for a shopping spree. You do, of course, pick out what you were sent for. A beautiful black sparkling dress, designer because why not, and some fancy jewelry to go with it. Shoes, however, you get from the department store. You’d do a lot of things, but wearing heels was not one of them. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.

While almost out the door, you spot a little something in a store window, something you’d always wanted but you budget wouldn’t justify it.

*

A few hours later, you exit the motel bathroom all dolled up. Will was sitting on the bed, phone in hand, only looking up when you exited. “Oh.” Was his first muttered response as he stood.

You blush, looking down. “That all?”

“No, shit, sorry.” he mumbles. “You look beautiful. Sorry, I’m… I’m not good with words…”

You’d noticed that. Not that he wasn’t good with words, just that he didn’t talk much. You didn’t mind, he was… peaceful. 

Right before you and William left for the night out, his lady luck on his arms you stop him. “Wait wait!” You say before going to your pile of bags and pulling out a polaroid camera you had bought today.

“Ah come on. Do we have to take pictures?” He grumbled with only a half hearted attempt at resistance.

“If I’m having a summer fling and a road trip, I’m documenting it. I promise I won’t always take pictures of you.”

“Fine.” 

“You’re like that grumpy eagle muppet.”

“What the fuck-”

 You snapped the picture just as he turned, giggling as it developed. Despite his resistance, Will leaned over to see it: You, smiling brightly at the camera, him, looking grumpy as he frowned at you.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” Will warned, his voice low but a bit of tease was there. His hand gently guided you out the door.

The night awaits.

****************

Almost a year in the making ;-;

Tagging those who've expressed interest in various mentions lol sorry if i forgot anyone! Note that things changed a lot at various points developing this in the minor details but the major plotline stayed the same

Special shout out to Melsy and Clem and Mona and Ceira for always encouraging me with this at various points.

Like dark fics? This aint darkenough for you? Come check out my dark blog

@whatthefishh @melodygatesauthor @hon3yboy @fandxmslxt69 @winniethewife @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @milkymoon2483

[nickfowlerrr]

by your side

part one / part two / part three / part four

pairing: lee bodecker x reader

warnings: 18+ only. main character injuries. reader pregnancy. morning sickness. angst. fluff. no smut. if i’m missing something important pls lmk.

words: 8.5k

notes: disclaimer: some things mentioned aren’t remotely accurate/possible to the era this takes place in (1960s) or like maybe ever even who knows really. i certainly do not. and though i tried to google more accurate info - i just wrote what worked for the story best lol so we’re all gonna suspend our disbelief and pretend it all makes sense. okay, cool, thanks. 😚 finally posting the last planned part to this little series. it’s poorly edited bc i’m very tired lol so sorry for errors in advance. and sorry it’s taken ages lol but i hope you’ve enjoyed it 🥰 headache was my first ever fic so this miniseries is really special to me. it’s where it all started. 🥹 thank you for reading and reblogging and as always, feedback and comments are appreciated. ❤️

It was chilly outside as you left your apartment, making sure you had everything with you as you walked briskly to your car. You were already late, so you were rushing to get to the station as soon as you could. Lee had been there earlier in the morning to pick you up for work, but when you were finishing getting ready, a sudden wave of nausea came over you and had you running to the bathroom with Lee following right behind. As you dry heaved over the toilet, nothing but bile coming up as your stomach had nothing else to give, Lee’s hand rubbed your back in an effort to comfort you.

He continued worrying over you even when you assured him you were fine.

“Lee, I promise, I’m okay. Probably just ate something bad, it’s nothing,” you said, shooing him off. “You’re gonna be late for work if you don’t go now. I’ll drive myself after I fix up a bit,”

“Darlin’-,” he went to argue, concern lacing his voice.

“Go,” you ordered. “I’ll be there before you know it.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you gave him a peck on the cheek. You moved to slip away and usher him out the door but he wrapped his arms around you before you could and squeezed you. You returned his hug as he looked down at you.

“You sure you’re okay, darlin’?”

“Promise, I’m okay.”

He sighed heavily before letting you go and opening the door. He turned and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“If you start feeling sick again, you call me, understand?”

“Yes, Sheriff, I understand,” you recited back to appease him. “I’ll be there before you know it,” you smiled as you urged him out.

“Why don’t I just stay until you’re done?” he tried to argue again. “No one's gonna say anything if I’m late, I’m the sheriff,”

“Lee,” you admonished, “Get outta here. You’re late enough as it is,”

“Fine,” he relented. “But if you’re not there within the hour I’m coming back over here,”

“Okay, deal,” you agreed. “I’ll see you soon.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours, kissing you softly.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips.

“Love you, too,” you returned before you watched him walk to the cruiser as you leaned out the door.

“One hour!” he called out as he pulled open the driver’s side door, shooting an “I’m serious” look your way before he got in. You gave him a wave as you smiled while he finally drove off.

—--------------------------

Funnily enough, it’d been well over an hour since Lee had left and you were pretty surprised he hadn’t so much as called. You didn’t think anything of it, though. He was probably out on a call.

When you pulled into the station, your eyes scanned the rows of cars while you looked for a spot, Lee’s cruiser nowhere to be seen. You found an open spot and parked, hustling inside to get to your desk.

“There you are! I was starting to get worried. Lee said you were sick this morning but you’d be here soon. And then soon turned into an hour and then an hour into an hour and a half,” Beth worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, he was worrying over nothing, just a queasy stomach,” you assured her. “Speaking of Lee, is he out?”

“Yeah, he went on a call a little while ago. I think he left you a note on your desk, actually.”

You looked in the direction of Lee’s office, with a hint of a smile.

“If you need anything, hon, just let me know,”

“Thank you, Beth, I appreciate it, but really, I’m completely fine,” you waved off her worry with a sweet smile as you made your way to your desk.

Putting your bag down and pulling your chair out, you picked up the note Lee had left and read it as you took your seat.

Had to go out on a call, but I’ll be back before you know it.

Love you, sugar.

- Lee

You couldn’t help but smile at the note, setting it back down and sliding it to the top of your desk as you grabbed the stack of files that had accumulated while you were gone to start getting through the paperwork and filing.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

It had been an hour and Lee still wasn’t back. You didn’t want to start worrying over nothing, but he always called when he knew he’d be longer than normal.. As you were anxiously waiting at your desk for something to happen - be it the phone ringing or Lee finally waltzing in to calm your racing mind and settle your worried thoughts, you noticed Beth going into the break room. Deciding you needed a distraction you got up and followed her.

“Hey,” you greeted as you took a seat at the table, watching Beth as she made herself a cup of tea.

“Hey, you alright, darlin’?” she asked, immediately concerned.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah…So, how long do you think Lee’s been gone now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant as you sat one leg crossed over the other, your foot swaying anxiously as if it had a mind of its own - betraying your air of calm.

“Oh, uhm…I’m not sure. He’d left maybe thirty five minutes before you got here?”

Your brows raised ever so slightly as you realized it was coming up on two hours that he’d been gone with no word from him. There was a small pit in your stomach beginning to form, but you knew you needed to not freak out. Maybe he was just caught up in something. You were sure it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be.You would’ve heard something by now..

“He hasn’t called or anything, has he?” you asked.

“No, why? Something wrong, hon?”

You shook your head, taking a breath. “No, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You sure you’re okay, you look a little sick,” she said worriedly, making her way over to the table to take a seat.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve just been having these little bouts of sickness lately. Just out of nowhere, I don’t know why. I thought it might have been something I ate the other day but..I don’t know,”

“Bouts of sickness? Like, what? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just like, nausea and sometimes I actually get sick, like run to the toilet or find a trash can, sick. Maybe it’s stress? There’s not really any other symptoms of a bug or anything,”

“How long have you been feeling like that?”

“Just started this past weekend,”

“And you’re sure there’s nothing else goin’ on? No… sensitivity to smells? Or feeling more tired than normal, soreness anywhere?” she prompted.

You thought back on this past week and were worried all over, you had all of those symptoms.

“Now that I think about it, yeah, actually…” you said, suddenly getting lost in your thoughts as pieces moved into place. There was no way…

“I don’t mean to pry, really, but, have you and Lee been..ya know, intimate with one another?” she asked, voice hushed to make sure no one else heard despite you two being the only ones in the room.

Your face dropped as you gathered what she was getting at, why hadn’t you considered it a possibility earlier?

“You don’t think…” you trailed off, shaking your head at the absurdity. Although, it really wasn’t all that absurd. It was the most reasonable explanation you had heard all week.

“Sounds to me like you just might be pregnant, sweetie,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips, but not breaking out completely as she wanted to gauge your reaction to the suggestion before she showed her own.

You didn’t have a chance to respond as the phone at your desk began ringing. You shot up, heart racing.

“Oh, that must be Lee,” you said before you rushed to get it.

You had to take a breath before answering the phone, needing to compose yourself in case it was someone else calling to speak with him.

“Sheriff's office, how can I help you today?” you recited as smoothly as you could as Beth came up to the desk to make sure everything was okay.

“Hello, ma’am. This is Debbie Ann down here at the hospital,”

Hospital? You froze. A sinking feeling was suddenly heavy in your chest as you waited for her to continue, not so much as making a sound during the time you were waiting. It couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds, but each one felt like an eternity.

“We have Sheriff Bodecker down here. Looks like he was just brought in a bit ago. I’m told he has a gunshot wound…”

There was like a static, a buzzing in your ear as you dissociated for a split second while she spoke. You didn’t hear anything she said after ‘gunshot’. Staring off at nothing, your mouth parting just slightly.

“Ma’am? Hello, are you still there?” the woman on the other end asked as you came back to yourself.

“What?” you faltered out of breath.

“We’ve tried calling the old contacts we had on file, but no one answered. The only working number listed is the station,” she explained as you were reeling. You were trying to catch your breath, blinking wildly as you tried to get a grip, hands floundering on your desk for your keys.

“O- okay, I’ll uh - I’ll be right there, I’m coming right now. I’ll be there right away,” you rushed out, fighting the tightness in your throat as you spoke. You nearly slammed the receiver down as you grabbed your purse and coat, not thinking of anything other than getting to him as soon as possible.

“Wow, wow, wow,” Beth rushed to slow you down. “Sweetheart, what happened? Where are you goin’?”

You stopped as she grabbed your hand and turned to her, tears welling in your eyes.

“I have to get to the hospital,” you stammered.

“Why? What happened, what’s wrong?”

“Lee’s been shot,”

“Oh my god,” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest in shock. “Okay,” she agreed quickly. “We’ll go, but you’re not driving. I’m gonna get Sam, he’ll take us. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” she assured you before rushing to get Sam from his desk.

They made their way to you quickly, Sam looking as concerned as his fiance.

“Peters,” he called, “radio Franklin and Sanderson, I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who called the Sheriff out earlier. See if you can get a hold of them. I’ll call from the hospital when I get there.”

Beth was already walking with you to their car, her hand holding yours was a comfort as she ushered you into the backseat, Sam trailing right behind you guys.

—-------------

“You okay?” Sam asked gently as he glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he tried to ease your worries but his words did little to help.

The hospital wasn’t too far from the station, and Sam was speeding down the near empty road, getting you there in record time.

The second the car stopped moving, you rushed out and headed straight for the entrance without a thought; Beth and Sam right behind you.

You made a beeline for the reception desk as you entered, your sense of composure and any manners out the window..

“We’re looking for Sheriff Bodecker,” you nearly panted, voice shaking. You weren’t sure if you were out of breath from your brisk walking or from the anxiety that was strangling you.

“The Sheriff, yes. He’s being attended to right now. Are you his wife?” the older woman asked, looking at you clearly concerned by your panicked state.

You shook your head dumbly.

“Family?”

“He doesn’t-” your voice threatened to break as you spoke, shaking your head again as you felt the tears welling, “he doesn’t have any family,” you heard the edge in your voice, but you couldn’t help your response. The stress was taking over you and you were overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. You didn’t mean to come off as frustrated as you did, but you were still irritated by the needless questions.

The woman looked at you sympathetically, nodding in understanding as you felt Beth beside you take your hand in hers reassuringly. Turning you to her, she grabbed you gently and led you to sit in one of the hard chairs of the waiting area while Sam took over the conversation with the woman at the desk.

“Just sit back, honey. We’ll figure this out, you just breathe, it’s gonna be okay,” she soothed, running her lithe hand up and down your back comfortingly. Sam turned and gestured for Beth to come over to the desk and she did just that. You watch them anxiously, looking for any sign that something was truly wrong, that the worst case scenario had happened, but they kept their backs to you as they spoke.

Not too long later, Beth came back over.

“He’s getting looked after right now. Can’t have any visitors until they finish doing what they need to do, but we can stay here and they’ll keep us updated. But he’s okay, sweetie, he’s alive and breathin’,” she breathed a smile as you nodded frantically, a bit of ease washing over you for a second before you found yourself beginning to cry unabashedly at the relief.

She hugged you tightly as you cried. “He’s okay, he’s gonna be okay,” she repeated softly.

You calmed down as you pulled away, wiping at your bleary eyes, grateful for the lack of other people in the waiting area - no further witnesses to your emotional display.

“He’s okay,” you echoed aloud, nodding, almost as if you were reassuring yourself of that fact while you wiped your tears, taking steadying breaths.

“I’m really sorry, ladies, I have to get back to the station, fill everyone in and see if Franklin or Sanderson has called in yet,”

“What- what happened, Sam? How did he get here?” you asked.

“I’m not too sure yet, but I promise I’m going to find out. She said two officers brought him in and he was unconscious. They told her to call the station and that they were goin’ back on pursuit. I’m hopin’ someone at the station’s heard from ‘em and we’ll figure it out,” he said confidently before turning his eyes fully on Beth, “You call me if you need me before I get back.”

“I will,” she nodded, getting up to give him a quick kiss before he left.

Your head was in your hands as you continued trying to collect yourself, taking deep breaths as you felt your stomach turning again - you knew what that feeling meant. You shot up and scurried right for the bathroom, getting into a stall just in time.

Beth followed you in after a moment, right as you were flushing the toilet before heading to the sink.

You could feel her looking you up and down, attempting to assess you discreetly.

“I’m fine,” you huffed as you looked at her in the mirror.

She bit her lip as she continued looking at you.

“Beth,” you rebuffed, turning to look at her standing beside you.

She looked around the bathroom, just making sure it was really empty before she spoke.

“I’m not trying to upset you anymore than you already are,” she broached carefully, “but maybe, you know, while we’re here you should get a test done. Just to find out, one way or the other,” she suggested, her support and care for you clear in her eyes.

You could feel your lips in a thoughtful pout as your eyebrows worried. “Do you..you think I really might be pregnant?” You knew the answer, but you asked anyway. Beth’s hand came up to rest on your shoulder reassuringly.

“Oh, sweetie,” she spoke softly.

“Oh, god,” you breathed, placing your hand over hers. “Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You both walk out of the bathroom and go back to the desk to check in to be seen. It was desolate so you didn’t think it’d take long for you to get in. You filled out the standard paperwork and then waited for either your name or Lee’s to be called.

And just as you’d hoped, it wasn’t too long before your name was being called and a nurse took you to a small room not too far beyond the front desk.

The room you were led to smelled sterile, like a doctor’s office, and just like the rest of the building. Your palms were sweating and you felt queasy again.

Question after question was asked, what symptoms you were having, your last sexual encounter, your last cycle, etc., etc.. You don’t know what you were expecting but you just wanted to get the test done and go back out there to wait for any updates on Lee.

“Alright, we just need a urine sample from you and then the technician will get your test. Results won’t be ready for at least two hours,” the nurse recited with little emotion, as if she was speaking off a script.

All you could do was nod as she handed you the cup and riddled off the basic instructions for you to follow.

—---------

You left the room feeling unsure of everything. What would you do if the results came back positive? What would Lee say? What would everyone around town say? You’d be seen as the unwed harlot who got knocked up by the sheriff, your boss, you could hear the church goers gossip now.

You sat quietly by Beth as you continued waiting for any news after being reassured by her that nothing happened while you were being seen.

An hour passed as you and Beth mindlessly flipping through the magazines that had littered the entryway table along the wall.

“Why haven’t we heard anything yet?” you groused.

“Don’t worry yourself, hun,” Beth lightly admonished. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

You sighed, knowing she was right.

“I just wanna see him. Make sure he’s okay,”

“I know, believe me, I do. But they’ll let us know as soon as he’s ready for visitors. You know, we should probably get some food in you,” she pointed out.

“We can’t leave,” you responded, sounding frazzled, as if she was insane for even suggesting it.

“We won’t, we can just grab something in the cafeteria. I’ll tell ‘em where we’re going in case they call us,” she said, leaving no room for argument as she went to the desk to let the ladies know where you’d be.

You followed her to the cafeteria which was just as empty as the waiting area with the exception of the few staff who were scattered around the food hall eating their lunches and mid shift snacks.

Beth got food for the both of you as you sat at the table nearest the door, in case anyone came in looking for you.

You thanked her as she sat across from you, handing you a tray of food. You eyed the sandwich on the tray warily, not sure you were up to eating.

“I know you don’t have the results just yet, but in case you are,” her eyebrows raised as she eyed you knowingly, “you gotta at least try to get something down. You haven’t eaten all day, you need to.”

You looked at her, nodding, “I know, you’re right.”

You reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it meaningfully. “Thank you,” you said in a near whisper, “for everything. You’re a really great friend, Beth,” you smiled tightly with tears in your eyes.

“I’m always here for you, you know that,” she smiled back, returning the squeeze to your hand before you went to your lunches.

You munched a carrot, watching as Beth took a bite of her sandwich. You needed confirmation it was edible before you would try it.

She looked up to meet your eye, chuckling at your raised brow and skeptical look. “It’s not bad, I swear,” she said after swallowing her bite.

“If I get sick again, I’m blaming you,” you laughed lightly.

Just as you were going to grab the sandwich, your name being called had your head shooting up, meeting the eye of the same nurse you’d been seen by earlier. You swallowed hard, you knew what this had to be.

“Could you follow me, ma’am,” she prompted. You stood and looked to Beth, sharing a nod before following behind the woman.

You only found your voice once you were in the hallway, “You have my results?” you asked trepidatiously.

“Oh, no. They should be ready soon, though,” she said without looking back at you as she continued leading you down the hallway. She must have sensed your confusion as she stopped a few feet from a closed door.

“Sheriff Bodecker asked to see you,” she supplied as she gestured to the door behind her.

Your eyes widened, as you hurried past her to the door, why the hell didn’t she say that sooner?

“Be careful with him,” she bid as you took a second to open the door gently, trying to calm down from all the emotions swirling around inside you.

You pushed open the door and peaked in. The second you saw Lee’s bright blue eyes looking over, you felt your heart squeeze and you nearly ran to his bedside, eyes filled to the brim with tears on the brink of falling.

“Hi darlin’,” he said, a lopsided grin on his pretty lips as he immediately stretched his right arm out for you to hug him.

“I was so worried,” you blubbered as you held onto him, trying to be careful with him before you pulled away to look him over. His left bicep was bandaged and you looked back to his face, worry etched all over your own once again.

“What happened?”

He released a heavy sigh, taking your hand in his and urging you to sit on the bed with him. Your full attention was on him as he ran his thumb on your hand soothingly.

“Goddamn Gates,” he cursed. “Son of a bitch was drunk and beating on Judy again. Franklin and Sanderson couldn’t get him to open the door and called me down there, sayin’ Gates would only speak to me. I got there and he opened up, I went inside to talk to ‘em, make sure Judy was alright and he was rantin’ and ravin’ about how he hadn’t touched a drink all week, all the while reekin’ the stuff. Judy said she was done, had enough of him finally and wanted him out. Then, I don’t know where he got it from, but all of a sudden he was waving a gun around, yellin’ about how he wasn’t goin’ to jail.

I turned to tell Judy to go outside and the fucker shot me. Tried to hit me in my chest but he’s a shit shot even when he’s not drunk off his ass,” he turned to show you his left arm, “bullet went straight through, they said it didn’t hit anything, so it just needs to heal up and I’m fine.”

“God, Lee,” you exhaled, your distress clear in your voice.

“They said you were unconscious when you got here?” you brought up, needing to know the full story.

“I wasn’t unconscious,” he denied, lip twitching up at the corner. “I was pretty out of it, though,” he admitted.

“He’d shoved past me to the back door when he heard the front door open and I was too focused on my arm to stop myself from falling. Hit my head on the corner of their table pretty hard,” he grimaced. “Have a concussion, but-”

“Oh my god,” you interjected as you got closer to him, gently running your hand through his cropped hair.

“I’m fine,” he finished, taking your hand in his. The look in his eye as he stared at you had your heart skipping a beat. Gleaming with adoration and love. Not a bit of worry for himself, his full focus on you.

“If anything had happened to you,” you breathed, not even wanting to think about how much worse today could have gone, “I-”

You couldn’t even finish talking as he pulled you into him, holding you as best he could with just his right arm.

Pulling away after a moment, you looked in his eyes, hoping yours got across all the feelings you didn’t have the words to properly express before you leaned back into him and kissed him more tenderly than you ever had before.

“I love you, Lee Bodecker,” you whispered against his lips. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispered in return. “I don’t think I ever really knew what love was before I met you.”

You smiled as your foreheads pressed together, noses touching lightly. Lee pulled back from you then and the glimmer in his eyes had you wanting to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and lay with his head resting on your chest, the kind of peace, comfort, and love you’d always dreamed of, the kind you’d found with him, were the only feelings you wanted to focus on. He caressed your cheek gently before looking down and taking your hand in his once more.

There was something building in the air, an anticipation. You didn’t know where the feeling came from but it had you on the edge of your seat.

Looking back up from your hand in his, Lee’s eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t plannin’ on asking you like this, but if today’s reminded me of anything, it’s that life is short,” he said sincerely while you stared at him, eyes rounded as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Gates’ aim had been better, I might not be here with you right now. I might not have ever gotten the chance to tell you just how stupidly in love I am with you,” he smiled. “How your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. How lookin’ in your eyes makes me feel like there’s hundreds of butterflies flying around in my stomach, how you make me feel like I’m walking on air when you look at me. And how thankful I am to have met you, how lucky I am you let me love you, and have given me the honor of bein’ yours for as long as you have now,”

You could feel your eyes watering for what must have been the tenth time that day as you waited for him to ask what you thought he was going to, squeezing his hand encouraging him to go on.

“Darlin’, you’re my whole world. And I can’t go another minute without you knowing just how serious I am about you, just how much I want, need you in my life. And however long I’m here on this earth for, whether it’s another month or thirty years, I want it to be with you… I want it all with you, everything.

I want you to move in with me, I want you to take my name, and I want to start a family with you, I-...”

A family. You almost lost it when he said those words, but you held it together another second…Then you heard your name leaving his lips and the tears began to slide gently down your cheeks.

“Will you marry me?” he asked softly.

Your heart about burst at the question as your lip wobbled, holding his hand tighter than you had before, making sure this was really happening and you weren’t just dreaming it. As you opened your mouth to answer him, the door opened with no notice and startled you as you shot your head over to see who was interrupting the intimate moment. It was the same nurse from earlier, but this time she had a chart with her, holding the file in her arm.

“This can’t wait?” Lee asked gruffly.

“I’m sorry to interrupt Sheriff, but I’m not here for you,” she turned her gaze to you then, “We have your test results, hon.” Your eyes went wide and your stomach felt queasy all over again at the sudden reality, anxiousness coursing through you. The idea of a family with Lee wasn’t just a nice idea to look forward to in a few years. The possibility was very real right here and now. You knew it’d be okay, whatever the results were, but still. Why was there so much going on today, you could hardly keep up physically let alone emotionally.

“Test results?” Lee questioned, you could hear the worry in his voice and as you turned to look back at him, you saw the concern on his face as he looked between you and the nurse. “What test?”

“Just,” you took his face in your hands gently, “just one second,” you assured him without answering his question, kissing him softly before following the nurse to just outside the door.

“Well, I’ll get right to it, it looks like what we suspected. Test came back positive, you’re pregnant,” she said, offering you a smile.

You knew that was coming, you knew it. But it still hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt like you were in shock, but you weren’t really shocked at all. You smiled back, before nodding.

“Oh,” you exhaled with a breathy laugh, “okay. Thank you,” you said as she walked back down the hall, leaving you to digest the news. You stood there for a moment until Lee calling your name prompted you to go back in the room, worried he’d get up and come check on you if you didn’t.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently as he pulled you back to near his bedside the second you got close enough to touch.

You worried your lip before meeting his eye. That look was there again, it always was. His bright blue eyes shining with nothing but concern for you. Filled with his need to comfort you, protect you, love you. You couldn’t help your eyes watering or the smile that broke out across your face as you admired him, taking a breath before you spoke.

“How would you feel…” you started, trying to not let your tears overtake you just yet, “about starting that family a little sooner rather than later?” you questioned shyly, eyes set on your hand in his while trying to hold the tears back a little longer.

“What are you talkin’ about, sugar?”

You looked up, meeting his eye and taking a deeper, more grounding breath before speaking again.

“I’m pregnant,” you announced, exhaling shakily. His eyes widened after a second while he took in what you’d just said,

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, the corner of his lips quirking up. You nodded in response. He breathed a laugh in disbelief and you swore the smile that shone on his face was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

You laughed in return, a relief and calm washing over you as you let your tears fall and watched as Lee’s own eyes watered at the news. He grabbed you, trying to pull you onto the bed with him. “You’re pregnant!” he beamed.

“Lee!” you laughed, “Be careful, you’re still hurt,” you objected.

“I’ve never been better in my life, darlin’,” he grinned, tugging you still.

You relented and gingerly laid down next to him, his right arm wrapping around your waist, palm resting carefully on your belly while you nuzzled into him. Turning your face up to look at him, Lee was already staring at you. You leaned up to meet his lips, indulging in a sweet kiss that was full of your love for one another, growing deeper the longer you held the kiss before you parted.

“You haven’t answered my question, sweetheart,” he simpered, eyeing you adoringly.

“Right,” you agreed, the proposal he’d just finished before the nurse walked in fresh in your mind. “What was it that you asked me again?” you feigned innocence, both of you smiling knowingly. There were stars in your eyes as you looked at him, elation filling you as he gazed back with a look akin to your own.

“I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, there’s nothing I want more than to marry you and start this family with you,” he said, rubbing your tummy as he spoke. “Will you marry me?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Yes,” you breathed a laugh. “Of course I will, I’ll marry you.”

Reaching up to kiss him again, you held his cheek in your hand.

“You’re gonna be my husband,” you grinned.

Lee laughed and kissed you once more. “Damn right, I am.”

“Okay, as much as I wanna lay with you, one of us is gonna end up falling off this bed,” you joked, moving to sit up. He let you sit up without an argument, only sighing in disappointment at the loss of you laying next to him. He took your left hand in his as he held it, his touch featherlight as his thumb rubbed along your ring finger.

“We’ll go down to the jeweler’s tomorrow,” he told you. “Gonna get you a ring, whichever one you want,” he smiled at you. You gave a tight lipped smile in return as you suddenly began worrying about what people would say. He knew the second you started to worry, gripping your hand more firmly, but his hold was still gentle, just enough to get your head back to the present. You looked at him, taking a breath.

“What are people gonna say? When they find out I’m pregnant before we’ve gotten married?” you asked, letting him know what you were worrying about.

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what they think or what they have to say. You don’t need to worry about a thing. It ain’t nobody's business anyway,”

“Might not be their business but that isn’t gonna stop them from talking. I remember all those awful things they said about Susan not two years ago. Nearly ran her right out of town, all the whispers and judgy looks she’d get whenever she went anywhere without Bill,” you said, shaking your head at the memory. Those church women were especially cruel to her. You didn’t want to be the next talk of the town. You and Lee both were already on thin ice with the lot of them for your so called “work affair”.

“Darlin’, if anyone has anything bad to say about you, they’ll be dealin’ with me. No one’s gonna make my girl - my wife, the mother of my child, feel bad for any reason. I’ll make damn sure of it,” he promised you.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his instance no one would talk about you, but his words were comforting nonetheless. He was right, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You were happy and in love and you wouldn’t change a single thing, pregnant out of wedlock or not. And the way you lit up hearing him call you his wife, and the mother of his child had you giddy all over.

“Only reason those ladies would talk about you is because they’re jealous anyway,” he added, making you laugh again. “I mean it, sugar. You’ll be the talk of the town for all the right reasons. You’re already like a damn starlet walking around gracing all of us small town folk with your beauty,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you rolled your eyes again at his ridiculous compliments. Ridiculous to you, at least. Because Lee meant every word he said.

“You’re gonna make the most beautiful bride and the prettiest mama this town has ever seen. I can’t wait to watch you get heavy with our baby. Can’t wait to watch you walk down the aisle, straight to me,” he simpered. You smiled demurely. Kissing him softly once more.

“We’ve got a lot of plannin’ to do,” Lee pointed out.

“You’ve got a lot of healin’ to do, Sheriff. We’ll figure everything else out in due time,”

Lee smirked, eyeing you like he wanted to argue that he was fine, but decided against it.

“Well, the doc said I could go home soon, and seein’ as I’ll be taking tomorrow off, we’ll have plenty of time to get your ring at least.”

“Lee,”

“Don’t try and argue, sweetheart. I want everyone to see a ring on your finger as soon as possible, let ‘em all know you’re mine, no question about it.”

“As if you haven’t made that obvious already,” you said, raising a brow at him.

“Reminders never hurt. Besides, a girl like you deserves to have a diamond on that finger. Show it off to all those Betties who like to gossip, give ‘em something to talk about,” he smiled.

“Give it another month, they’ll have plenty to talk about, I’m sure,” you said with a dry laugh, looking down at your stomach.

Lee considered you for a moment before talking.

“Move in with me,” he said.

You looked at him quizzically.

“Well, duh,” you smiled.

“This weekend. I’ll hire movers, we’ll get you settled by Sunday,” he said, almost begging, wanting to get ahead of the refusal he was sure you’d have at trying to move so soon knowing he was still healing.

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, “Okay,” you agreed, earning a grin from him in return as he nodded and visibly relaxed.

“The guest room is already clean, it’ll be easy enough to turn it into a nursery,” he added. You smiled at his happiness, the emotion evident on his face. And your heart soared at the way he was so ready for this, as if he’d been waiting for everything to fall into place, waiting for this to start with you. He was already planning everything out in his head, you could practically see the wheels working as he thought.

“You’re gonna be an amazing dad, you know that?” you breathed.

He smiled softly at you, looking like his mind was far off for just a second before he came back to himself. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” he responded. “We’re gonna do this together, we’re gonna do our best, do everything we can for this little one,”

“And for each other,” you added, wanting to remind him you’d always be there for him, too. You were a family now, undeniably. It was like everything had changed in your lives in a matter of hours, but the one thing that would stay the same was your love for one another. Trials and unforeseen changes, be they good or bad, only solidified that knowing you had deep down. You were it for each other. And your love only grew stronger with each day.

He nodded, still smiling as he gently let go of your hand, moving to rest his palm on your belly again, you put your hand over his and when you looked at him again, his eyes were shining as tears filled his eyes.

“Seems crazy to say, considerin’ I was shot and concussed and all, but I think this is the best damn day of my life,” he laughed breathily as a few tears fell. You were quick to wipe them from his cheeks as you took his face in your hands delicately, laughing softly in turn, your thumb gently brushing his cheek as you leaned your head to his.

“Whole lot to process,” you mused. “But you’re here. And you’re okay. And we’re having a baby,” you repeated, your smile growing wider.

“And you’re gonna make me your wife,” you nearly whispered as your lips brushed his. “I could see how it’s one of the best when you look at it like that.”

Lee simpered as he leaned into you before closing the distance between your lips and kissing you tenderly.

“But you have to promise me something, Lee,” you urged, making sure he was looking in your eyes, wanting him to see how serious you were. “Your main focus right now is on healing. I don’t want you rushing anything, alright? I just need you to get better, I need you to be okay. And I know you’re gonna say you’re fine, but I mean it, Lee,”

“I promise,” he swore, his hand holding yours, keeping your touch to his cheek before he pulled it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “You have my word.”

You schooled your face, not wanting to let on your surprise at his lack of pushback. “Good,” you said satisfied, pulling your hands back to rest in between your bodies, but not letting go of each other.

“Now, you have to promise me something,” he said.

You eyed him, waiting for him to continue.

“You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?” You asked. He took a beat before speaking matter of factly.

“You’re fired.” You blinked at him, confused for just a second before his words registered.

“Excuse me?” you said incredulously.

“You’re carrying my baby in there, no way I’m gonna have you working. No need for it,” he answered as if it was obvious.

“No need for it?” you scoffed. “I’ll tell you one thing for sure, Mr. Bodecker. You’d be completely lost without me. In fact, this is a perfect example of why you need me at the station. Had I been there when they tried to call you in, I would’ve told those two bozos to figure it out themselves. Too damn lazy to do their job is what it was. You never should’ve been down there to begin with. They’re officers, for Christ’s sake! They could’ve easily gotten him to open up, they just didn’t want to deal with it. And where were they when you were inside, huh? Not talking to Judy, were they. Probably guzzling their coffee, leaning along their cruiser while they talked about baseball or whatever the hell else it is they talk about, meanwhile you’re getting shot at by some wife beatin’ drunk all because they can’t be bothered to do their damn jobs. Left you all alone in there with no one to watch your back, that’s reckless and dangerous and they’re so damned lucky you’re alright, because I swear, had anything worse happened to you, Lee -,” you ranted, not realizing how truly angry you had been beneath the fear and worry you felt for Lee.

“Alright, alright, I hear you, darlin’. Take it easy,” he said, trying to calm you while hiding the look of amusement and pride threatening to break across his face at your impromptu lecture and ranting.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head. “And I know for a fact your files would be an unorganized mess and your paperwork would always be half done without me there to assist you,” you huffed.

“You’re not firing me, Lee,” you said, defiant and definitively. “If anyone is gettin’ fired today, it should be those two idiots, not me.”

Lee considered you for a second, biting on his tongue in thought before he huffed out a laugh through his nose. “I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll give you five months workin’ your normal days but as soon as your last trimester hits, I don’t want you so much as lifting a finger in that station,” he said, giving you a look that left little room for argument.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you considered it. Five months is a lot of time to make things work in your favor…

“Fine,” you agreed, making your dissatisfaction clear in your tone.

“Don’t give me that look, sugar, you’re gonna kill me with those eyes,” he bemoaned. “I’m already hurt as it is, darlin’,” he gave you his best puppy eyes as he took your hand in his again.

“Well speakin’ of not lifting a finger at the station,” you repeated his sentiment, “You’re gonna be taking a lot longer than just one day off, Sheriff.”

“That so?”

“That is so. And don’t think for one second that you’ll be out patrolling until your arm is completely healed,” you said firmly.

“I think you think it’s a lot worse than it is, sweetheart. I’ll be good as new by next week,” he assured you.

You looked down at his hand in yours and squeezed it, more as a comfort to yourself than anything. “A week, then,” you said, a soft plea disguised under your tone of faux authority. “The whole week. You’re gonna be home, you’re not going on a single call.”

“Hey,” he called, bringing your attention to him, “I’m alright,” he insisted while his eyes were intent on you.

You took a second, looking in his eyes for reassurance and then nodded. “Okay,” you breathed, looking away, feeling that familiar tingling in your nose as you blinked back a fresh wave of tears.

“No more tears, darlin’. Look at me,” he ordered gently. “You’re okay.”

“‘M not worried about me,” you muttered as you met his eye again.

“I know I can’t keep you from worrying’ about me, but darlin’, you really don’t need to.”

“You know how ridiculous it is to hear you say that as you’re layin’ in a hospital bed?” you snapped before your voice quavered as it rose, “You could’ve died, Lee!

And you’re tellin me I don’t need to worry about you?” you scoffed, you looked at him incredulously before you really saw him, laying there hurt and vulnerable whether he wanted to admit it or not, and you softened instantly. It wasn’t him you were so upset at. “You’re the love of my life, Lee,” your voice shook despite you trying to reign in the emotion. “I’m always gonna be worried about you, even if you aren’t worried about yourself. Which, you know, now, you have to. You have to worry because I’m not gonna be raising a little baby Bodecker all on my own,” you tried to ease up as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he sighed, regret in his eyes. “I think we just need to go home and relax together. Focus on all the good we got out of today instead of the bad. All this stress can’t be good for the baby, neither.”

You rubbed at your face, growing tired from the whirlwind you’d been through today.

“No,” you shook your head with a sigh of your own, “I’m sorry.” Your hand was on his thigh, your thumb absentmindedly soothing across it as you breathed. “I didn’t mean to get upset - I’m not upset. Not with you, anyway. I just - I’m sorry,” you breathed, not knowing how to properly put into words what you were thinking or feeling, only frustrating yourself further.

“None of that,” he chided as he sat further up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed with you.

“Lee, don’t do that!”

“They didn’t say I couldn’t move,” he argued. “In fact, they said someone’d be in here soon to show me how to dress the wound while it heals and then I can go home. Hand me my pants, sugar?”

You eyed him unbelieving but stood and grabbed his pants anyway, bringing them over for him. He moved his left arm gingerly as he tried to pull them further up his legs once he had his feet through so you took hold of them and helped slide them up for him. You zipped the zipper and buttoned them closed. “Want your belt on, too?”

“No. Thank you, darlin’.” He took the gown he was still wearing off and sat shirtless as he looked to you.

“‘Course,” you said as you took his face in your hands, standing before him. You watched as he let himself revel in the warmth of your touch, sighing heavily as he closed his tired eyes and leaned into your palm.

“Maybe a week off will do me some good,” he mused. “Plus if I’m not there, no reason for you to be, either.”

“Who’s gonna make sure your paperwork gets finished if I’m not there? Or redirect your calls?” you asked as you moved your hands from his face, running your fingers soothingly through his short, dark brown hair instead.

“That’s what the front desk ladies are for. You could use the time off, too. We’ll have our own little vacation,” he sweet talked as he stared up at you like you were his whole world.

“A whole week…” you pondered aloud. “We should use that time well,” you suggested.

“What do you have in mind?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you bit your lip. “I don’t know... What do you think about eloping?”

Lee’s eyes widened as he looked at you confused and almost shocked.

“You want a shotgun wedding?” he asked.

“You don’t have to call it that,” you said, embarrassed. Taking a breath as your hands fell gently to his shoulders. “You want to run for reelection, don’t you?”

Lee nodded in response, and you could see the dots connecting as he did with a sigh of his own.

“You and I both know how important the church vote is for you. Doubt they’ll be all too happy with their chosen sheriff moving his pregnant girlfriend into his home before they’re married.” Lee rolled his eyes but knew you were right.

“Just doesn’t seem fair to you,” he said.

“I think I prefer it,” you replied with a small smile. “Less stress around planning,” you offered.

“If that’s what you want, babydoll, that’s what we’ll do. As long as you’re happy. And as long as I get to call you my wife once it’s all said and done,” he smirked as he pulled you closer to him with his right arm around your waist, “I’m happy, too. And if it helps my approval ratings, well that’s just the cherry on top of the sundae.”

You laughed as you bent to place a kiss to his forehead which he gratefully accepted before he rested his head against your tummy, placing a kiss of his own to your stomach as his hand rubbed your lower back.

“I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with you. Grow this little family of ours,” he smiled affectedly. “Wouldn’t want any of this with anyone else. Only you. The good and the bad, I’ll take all of it as long as I know I’ll have you by my side.”

“You’ll always have me by your side,” you promised as you looked down at him, your adoration, devotion, and love to him and your future family together gleaming brightly in your eyes. “Always.”

[angelinthefire]

Thinking about a 6-part miniseries about Cas. The premise being that there's some way for him to get back the memories that were taken from him, and he's going through the process of re-experiencing them (and this is why we haven't seen him yet, because he's been occupied with this).

So we're following Cas through time, seeing every instance of him going off-script, and every time it gets harder and harder to reset him. And there could be 3 or 4 actors besides Misha who play Cas at various points in history. And there could be returning spn actors for different angels as well as recasts for different "versions" of them. There would be a chance to get into some complex relationships between sibling-soldiers who are under a cult-like authority.

The way I'm imagining it, it would be "kalaidoscopic" to use Edlund's word for describing Cas' perspective. Non-linear narratives layering on top of each other, and making use of motifs and recurring elements in an almost dream-like way, building Cas' story as someone who fought to be his own person. The whole thing being kind of epic and fantastical and philosophical.

And of course it ends with Cas' reunion with Dean. I think in previous episodes there could be short little "missing scenes" situated within the main spn canon, to really re-establish Dean and Cas' relationship for any uninitiated viewers. But by the time it gets to the end, after following Cas' whole story, Dean is framed as the last instance in a long series of Cas' struggles to assert his own sense of right and wrong, his own sense of self. Dean is the time when it finally stuck. So there's a real narrative weight, within the 6 episodes, to them reuniting, it's not just for the sake of finishing what spn started.

And I'm still imagining the reunion scene being something like what I posted about here. Where Dean asks Cas to jailbreak Heaven with him, break the rules with him one more time, run away so they can live their own life. So that Dean is the realization of everything Cas' story has been driving towards.

And then the thing with Jack being taken over by God happens (see linked post). Because a) Cas can't just go off with Dean and leave Jack behind, so there has to be a reason for him to oppose what Jack's been doing in Heaven, and the answer to that is he's God instead of Jack. And b) the series ends on an open page, with Dean and Cas going back into the world as these twin agents of chaos and free will, and you have the sense that they're always going to be out there fighting for free will and fighting to be masters of their own lives, and the story will never end.

[z3ny44]

Spoilers for Fionna and Cake Finale Double Episode Post

-Alright, episode 9 started of with a scare! That nightmare really seemed real for a second, and Marshall looked like Shoko when she fell into the radioactive river....

Thank god it was a dream honestly, but the main even of this episode... The Lich begging for Golb to acknowledge his achievements, his success in ending all life on his reality, only to be denied of any form of gratification and to be stripped of his own reason and turned into a tetris block...

I really liked this bit, I think Fionna and Cake had the best moments of Lich alongside his speech in the Citadel episode. His expression, his posture, his rage alongside his struggle... How can a character so inherently impossible to kill, be absolutely finished by no more than a look from the one whom he called his scholar.

Also Simon kicked him that's funny,, poor Jerry

And Now, from the 1000+ years Ooo, we get to see Shermy and Beth again! They are vandalizing Gibbon's kingdom, that, in case you don't remember or don't know, he's the son of Charlie (Jake's daughter that played Card Wars)

I really like 1000+ years Ooo. In a way its cozy but at the same time uncanny cuz you really don't know anyone... (I mean Marcy and PB are canonically alive but still they only appear in the Come Along with Me Intro) I wish it was a miniseries itself!!! Simon got TP'd to Shermy's head and still is trying to find a crown. They went to the library which is now ruled by the paper guys, and a robot in a turtle shell? uh,,, okay?

And yeah basically the Scarab is back cuz Ellis P freed them,,, bruh.

-LAST EPISODE FFS PAWN SWAN IS CANON WOOO

Okay but in all seriousness, the episode continued F&C dealing with the Scarab, and they just threw him all the guys that he imprisoned, which shows us what we already had a feeling since he caught Kheirosiphon: the Scarab just caught outlaw, independently if they are good or bad, most of these guys are reformed and have started a new life... he's just so shitty... like, look at these little Big guy :')

Anyways, to get done with the F&C story, basically Prismo tp's the Peppermint tank, alongside with Jay, little Destiny and BABY FINN!! WHICH IS HUGE?! Finn is going to grow up in Fionna's universe, and if the series continues, we might even see a normal world grew up Finn (with grew up I mean like 15, lol) ALSO WE SEE TIFFANY

Simon's side on the other hand,,, jeez I feel like I was synced with Simon in a way that I never really acknowledged Betty's sacrifice... She really did put everything on the side to be with Simon, and for his happiness.... not that it went by unnoticed, but it bugs me to think... what if they did it differently? What if he went on the trip with Betty... I mean to be fair we have the answer... he dies to vampires a couple years after, but how was the time he spent with Betty? What did they change? How did they change and grew even if it did not last forever....

and if you think that this was the part that hit the hardest... buddy..

Yeah,,, I think Betty isn't even there anymore, this was a goodbye... It wasn't explained but I think it was implied that she is gone... That Golb is back to his normal form... i don't know if this will have repercussions in the future? Maybe reform Lich and fuse with him?! I'm just throwing random ideas at this point.

-Final Opinion: This series was amazing, I'm always happy to have more Adventure Time content, it being my main artistic inspiration makes it so much more fantastic to see new characters, places and stories. It was definitely the best mini series so far. The funniest, the most interesting, and the prettiest visually. The epilogue was so heartwarming, Fionna being able to talk with Simon via sms, he's having therapy with Minerva, and PRISMO! Prismo now has the Scarab with him in the Time Room, they are going to make stories together hehe.

(also there was a frame in which prismo's head was flipped? idk if it was an error wtf)

[rokuhoku]

"beloved."

Pairing: Namor x Filipino!Reader

Rating: General Audiences, Comedy

Summary: You ask your... "sorta" friend what the meaning of his other name is. His answers break your heart, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 2,516

Content Warning: Mentions of colonialization

Disclaimer: Again, as mentioned before, Namor is slightly cold towards the reader! He isnt hateful or anything, just has his guard up bc of surface world resentment. Though, that guard can be taken back down sometimes ;)

__________

Reminder: This fic is part of a Namor x Filipino!Reader miniseries, but can be read on its own! Miniseries fic(s):

a piece of your history. / "beloved."

__________

The soft tune of a Filipino song played in the air, its melody dancing along with the sounds of the waves hitting the sand. Namor could only make out a few words within the song as he remembered the few phrases you had taught him. The melody was nice and eased his nerves, though he would never admit that to your face.

“What did they call you again?”

Namor blinked, processing your sudden question for a few seconds. Before you had suddenly asked him a question, you were both simply by the shore of the beach you frequented, with him in the water and you in the dry sand as usual, reading to him aloud a book that had come across your interests.

He looked at you questioningly, causing you to sputter over your words. “Oh! I meant what the Spaniards had called you when they…” You trailed off, fearing that you may have crossed a line with him this time. You knew how sore the topic was already, despite not knowing the full details as Namor refused to show any hint of vulnerability with you (or so you thought).

“What I mean is…” You cleared your throat, already bracing yourself for his reaction. 

“.... Why do certain people have to call you ‘Namor’?” You finished, closing the book, shifting to fully turning to him, indicating that you were paying special attention. The cogs clicked in place in Namor’s head as he finally understood your question. He noticed that you had said ‘certain people’ instead of enemies, likely the reason being you two weren’t exactly enemies nor friends in both of your books. 

“Uhm, you don’t have to answer if it’s too… y’know….” You quickly added, waving your hands in a dismissive manner. Namor’s eyebrows raised at you, causing your face to heat up. “I mean… alam naman natin na gago sila…” You quickly mumbled the last part. 

Namor seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, before he shook his head and chuckled. “No, I can answer if you would like me to.” 

Namor ran his fingers through the water, clearly contemplating on how he should approach your question. He smiled bitterly at you as he remembered the hateful memory. Your hands immediately went to your phone, turning the volume down on the classic OPM playlist you were playing.

“When my mother died, she asked to be buried in her homeland,” He started, playing with the wet sand underneath the water. Namor smiled, a loving look overtook his bitter expression.

“She wanted to show me the surface world and its beauty.” Her soft and caring smile flashed in his mind, it was as if he could still remember the days where she hugged him with such care. His mother was always so gentle, so sweet with him. 

The prolonged gentle expression on Namor’s face was an unfamiliar one, as it was often hardened or practically deadpanned at you. You were only used to the occasional soft glimpses in his eyes.

A small part of you wished you could see this type of his face more, but that was crossing the line in your book.

“But, when I arrived…” Namor’s expression soon darkened. “They were here.” You winced, knowing exactly who he was talking about. He grit his teeth.

“They called me… ‘El Niño sin Amor’.” 

He looked back at the sea, feeling that if he stared at you, you would see nothing more than hate and anger burn in his eyes, a look that would most likely scare you away. You don’t know if it helped, but you nodded understandingly, almost as if implying that he can feel if he wants to.

Namor could remember the look of fear and hatred in the man’s eyes, as if the Spaniards didn’t force him and his people to retreat in the ocean due to the illness inflicted upon them by the colonizers, before enslaving those who remained on land. 

“The child without love, as they boasted.” Namor spoke in a rather biting sarcastic tone. Though he was smiling, the grin on his face was one of anger, holding no genuine joy or happiness in it.

“I took Namor from that, because I have no-” His eyes locked with you for a brief second before he averted his gaze. “-love for the surface.”

Your fingers played with the cover of the book you were holding, as you frowned even more and stared at him in disbelief. 

“Luh? So bale, you were called a loveless child,” You began, a startled impression on your face, “just because you killed the colonizers after they basically enslaved and killed your people?” You asked for clarification, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. Namor nodded, a rather grim smile on his face.

“Aba, ang kakapal ng mukha nila ah…” You grumbled, before muttering something about how hypocritical and barbaric they were. Namor smiled gratefully at you, knowing you shared the same sentiment. 

He sighed, as if tired of having to relive the same memory over and over again. Namor looked back at the sea, a subtle slouch in his posture now. 

For a moment, you both sat there in silence, contemplating the lives of those who lived before (at least in your case) you. So many of Namor’s people were enslaved and forced by the Spaniards, yet they dare to call him the loveless child?

You pursed your lips, your eyes looking over Namor.

He wasn’t a child without love. His mother had loved him so, it was obvious by the way his voice would hush into a gentle baritone each time she was brought up.

His people loved him so, or at least, that’s what you can make up from his stories. You’ve only ever been able to gaze at them from afar in the sea, whenever they occasionally came to check up on him. Though with the way they addressed him you could easily see the fondness.

An idea popped into your head, though you were a bit hesitant to actually do it. 

“Hey,” You called out, scooting closer to him, the waves licking at your feet. Namor rose an eyebrow at you, though your invasion of his personal space did not deter him.

Finally, you sat in the water next to him, perhaps this was one of the very few times you were both less than three feet apart. Namor’s mouth opened, about to tell you off that your clothes were getting wet and rather quite see-through.

You snickered, a mischievous look overtaking your eyes, a look that Namor was quite familiar with. Too familiar with it, he adds to himself. 

You pointed at his face, before your pointer finger came into contact with the scrunch between his eyebrows.

Namor’s brain went blank, processing exactly what you had done to him. Before he can even make a reaction, you cut him off.

“Iniirog.” 

You started slowly, gauging for his reaction. Namor’s eyes narrowed at you, confused but not offended. Your smile soon went into a toothy grin. 

“Sinisinta.” 

Namor grabbed your wrist and pulled away from your finger, clearly puzzled. The soft, cool touch of his damp fingers sent goosebumps up your back, but you continued nevertheless.

“Kinagigiliwan.” 

You were practically giggling at this point, leaning your body towards him, as if to tease him about the words you were uttering, completely dismissing that he had not understood what you were saying.

Hesitantly, your hand went to reach for his, causing him to flinch. You took Namor’s hand between both of yours, softly tracing the palm lines on it. 

“Minamahal.”

His senses were being overloaded, the low volume of the OPM Playlist still playing in the background, though it felt as if it was echoing rather loudly in his ears.

Namor’s eyes met yours, he remembers what the word “mahal” means. But that couldn’t possibly be what you’re saying, right? Were you instead perhaps meaning another thing? (He was sure that mahal meant expensive as well, were you just messing with him and calling him expensive?)

One of your hands stopped playing with his and reached towards his face, caressing his cheek softly. You contemplated running a hand on his pointy ears. However, you decided you wanted to keep your hand intact with your body.

Namor could do nothing but stare at you, his free hand coming up to hold yours that was on his cheek, though he made no move to remove your hand. If you were to look closer, it was as if he was leaning into your touch. 

Your thumb softly grazed his upper cheek.

“Nagmamahal.”

With the way Namor talked fondly about his people, you couldn’t help but notice the love and adoration in his eyes. He truly loved his people and protected them with his whole heart. 

Even if Namor couldn’t fully understand what you were saying to him, he could still somewhat comprehend what you were trying to say.

Namor was not a child without love, he has loved and has been loved. He will continue to love and he will continue to be loved, you were sure of that.

To your and his surprise, his eyes fluttered close as he leaned into the warm touch of your hand against his damp cheek. The feeling was scorching against his cool skin, yet it brought comfort to him even so. 

A part of him wanted this moment to never end, the soft tunes of your mother tongue playing in the background, as you practically showered him with affection that you two had an unspoken agreement about.

Soon, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

The hand on his face traced his cheek softly, before it came and pinched it rather aggressively. 

Namor’s eyes snapped open as he suddenly experienced a rather painful pinch to the cheek. Your ninangs would be proud of you if they saw the red mark on his skin right now. You snickered, making kissy-faces at him.

“Bebeluvs~” He deadpanned at you, fully knowing the sound of your rather trickster voice.

“My sexy, sexy love!” You finished, laughing so much your stomach hurt. You knew that Namor probably wouldn’t get the reference, but you couldn’t help yourself from quoting none other than the queen herself, Kathryn Bernardo. 

You were still laughing, peeving Namor a bit. This caused him to pull away from your touch and some distance between the two of you. The laughter soon died in your throat, as you instantly sort of regretted the fact that you ruined the moment. Shet, maybe you should’ve maintained the wholesome moment just a bit longer.

You fully expected him to stand up and leave you there in the water again, already used to him doing it with the many, many times you’ve tried to trick him into saying rather comically funny words in your language. Namor could always figure you out, though it may be because of the way you haven’t been able to stop yourself from laughing each time.

To your surprise, he simply stayed there, a contemplative look on his face as he looked down at the water he was in. 

You cleared your throat, scooting closer to him once again. You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say next now that you have feared you may have offended him. Namor’s voice soon filled the one-sided awkward silence left in the air.

“Your words… What did they mean?”

You beamed at him, jumping at the chance to answer. “They can all actually mean different things! ‘Iniirog’ for example can mea-” A single stare from Namor shut you up from overcomplicating the answer, though it did not stop you from grumbling about the complex meanings of the words.

“Uhm, well, generally, they all kinda mean…” You whispered the last part, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed that you had even started all of this. 

Namor sighed heavily, staring at you in dismay by your sudden bashfulness that always seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Ka a'alé, speak up.” His body turned towards you more as he leaned his head down in order to listen more carefully.

You shakily let out a breath, fully preparing to face his rageful wrath yet again. 

(You were exaggerating, the most he’s ever done is splash water directly into your face. Though it did go straight to your eyes once, you never forgave him for that.)

“Uhm, what I meant to say was…” You were stalling again, nervously fiddling with your fingers on your lap, flexing them under the water. 

Namor sighed. “If you can’t say them to my face, why say them at a-”

“THEY ALL MEAN ‘BELOVED’!” 

You practically shouted at him, shocking him to his core. You swore you could feel the water suddenly shift. Oh no, what if the Talokanil have been watching you all this time and you just shouted at their king?! 

“Or… Haha… Other things as well.” 

At this point, you were just trying to fill in the rather thick silence in the air. “But uhm, they could all also mean beloved.”

Meanwhile, Namor stayed silent at your confession. Have you been whispering to him such intimate words of affection all this time?

“All those words… were you calling me ‘beloved’?” At this, you shook your head slowly, confusing him even more.

“.... Actually, the last part means something else.” You felt like you were hyperventilating at this point. Perhaps you’ve ruined your favorite OPM playlist forever, as you will always associate it with this moment.

“The… The last part means ‘loving’...” You weakly replied, not daring to meet his eyes. You feel like you’ve royally screwed up, banished from the ocean even. Goodbye, night swimming, you will be dearly missed.

You slowly looked, bracing yourself for his reaction. The scene made your jaw drop, and Namor’s face would have been priceless to you if the situation hadn’t called for it. 

The flusteredness on his face would’ve caught anyone off-guard. The way his eyebrows raised as the corner of his eyes pinched at the corners. His lips were slightly open, as if to say that he was too shocked to even close his mouth. 

Soon, however, Namor finally came to his senses. He finally realized what you had been trying to say to him all this time.

They had called him “the child without love” in their spitting, hateful language.

And you had called him such loving words in your native language, as if to imply that they were wrong.

When you scooted closer to him once more, he didn't flinch or pull away this time. You blinked at his movements, noting the way he slightly leaned onto you again.

“... Niib'oolal." was the only thing Namor said after a few minutes.

You’ve talked to him enough to know what that means.

You gleefully smiled at him, before clearing your throat and relaxing your posture.

“Psh, ako pa? Wala lang yun, K’uk’ulkan.”

The soft tunes of the OPM playlist from your phone continued playing in the air, and the cold feeling of the water soon came to feel like a warm embrace instead.

[dearestro]

Icecream Sundaes

Disclaimer: I couldn't think of a title ok? But I had to name it something.

Warnings: Innuendos, crudish language, allergic reaction.

Summary: Who knew icecream could be dangerous? Part of the Chase Miniseries.

"Daddy!" You heard your four year old yell as she rushed to the front door.

"Princess!" You looked to see Robert come in with a few bags of groceries as he picked up your daughter and spun her around as she giggled. You smiled at the sight.

"Don't be too flattered. She knows you're the one with the icecream!" You laughed as he looked up at you while still holding Layla. 

"Well, that's not true, is it Layla?" He turned to your daughter.

"Icecream!" You smirked as the smile fell from his face, and he playfully rolled his eyes before setting the child down and following you into the kitchen.

"Told you." You smiled as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist after setting down the bags.

"Yeah well...you're excited to see me. Right?" He started to kiss your neck as you laughed.

"I suppose." You feigned disinterest as he just scoffed, causing you to giggle before turning to capture his lips with yours. He only pulled you closer to deepen the kiss in response.

"Icecream!" Layla shouted, effectively interrupting the moment. Robert groaned before letting you go to look through the grocery bags. Inside the first two bags, you found chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, bananas, maraschino cherries, waffle cones, chocolate, and vanilla icecream. You finally reached the smaller third bag and opened it to find strawberry icecream, sauce, and strawberries. You frowned before turning your husband.

"Why did you get these?" You asked, holding up the forbidden foods.

"You two like them, who am I to stop you from enjoying icecream sundae night?" He shrugged as if it was no big deal. You rolled your eyes at him.

"Alright, but do you think you can survive a few days without kisses?" You teased.

"I'm sure I'll be fine without mouth kisses." He deadpanned as you snorted at his word choice.

"Mouth kisses?" You quirked a brow.

"Well, yeah, what else am I supposed to call them? After all, every other body part is still kissable, right?" You rolled your eyes before starting to unpack the supplies.

The three of you had begun to create your own sundaes. Robert on one end of the island and you on the other so that you could both help Layla when needed. You made sure to keep the strawberry stuff separate and wait until everything else was finished with to cut them so as to not get your husband sick.

Layla insisted on putting anything and everything on hers while you and Robert stuck to the basics. You all were about finished when you decided to start washing the strawberries.

"I'll be right back. I have to use the restroom." Murmured your husband as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You continued to wash and cut the strawberries as Layla looked over the sundaes.

By the time your husband had gotten back, you had added the strawberry stuff to your and your daughter's icecream bowls, and all sat down to eat. Layla eagerly dug in as you and Robert shared one last allergen free kiss before going to your own.

"Why does this taste like strawberries?" Your eyes widened at Robert's question.

"I don't know...I waited until you were done making yours to even use anything you were allergic to." You stared at his face intently, making sure nothing changed as he shrugged it off and continued to eat. 

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for his face to turn red, and he started wheezing. At seeing and hearing his distress, you jumped up and ran for the epi pen you had kept for situations like this just in case as he started to panic at the lack of oxygen. You tried to gently but quickly move your daughter out of the way so you could reach his thigh. You hesitated for a second, quickly thinking to turn your daughter away from the sight so she wouldn’t see you stab her father before you jammed it into his muscle. He took a quick breath in as you rushed to dial 911 and ushered your daughter away from the scene.

The paramedics got to the house in time and rushed your husband off in an ambulance while you were left with Layla to follow. You, along with your little girl, had tears streaming down your face at the horrific situation. You because you had almost lost your husband and her because even though she didn't quite understand the situation, she knew it was bad. 

As you arrived at the hospital, you rushed to the ER where you were told to wait while they stabilized him. 

"Where's Daddy?" Your little girl sobbed as you shushed her and caressed her blonde hair.

"He's just a little sick." You lied. "We'll see him soon." She nodded as you rubbed your hand up and down her back. "Do you have any idea why Daddy's icecream tasted like strawberries?" You asked her gently, not wanting to further upset the toddler. She sniffled before looking down at her lap. "Layla?"

"I just wanted to help...I thought Daddy might like the red sauce..." You sighed at her admission. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him!" She cried as she burried her face in the crook of your neck.

"I know, babygirl. Shh. I know." You continued to comfort her. "But next time you have to ask before adding anything to our food. Especially Daddy's...ok?" She only nodded against your neck as a doctor came out to meet you.

"Mrs. Chase?" You nodded. "He's ok, we'll keep him here a while, and we've put him on fluids, but otherwise, he should be fine." You sighed in relief before turning to your distraught daughter.

"You hear that, baby? He's ok, you're ok. We're all ok." You tried to soothe her fears but to no avail, so you turned back to the doctor. "Can you bring us to him?" He nodded as you got up to follow him, Layla, on your hip, still burying her face in shame.

Once you got to the room, you knocked on the door lightly before hearing a gentle 'Come in'.

"Hi. Someone wanted to see you." You whispered as you closed the door behind you and walked over to the bed. 

"Hey babygirl." He said as he reached for Layla, but the little girl flinched away. "What's wrong?" His eyebrows furrowed at the toddler's odd behavior. 

"She’s still a little upset..." He gave you a look. "I'll tell you later." He nodded, understanding that now wasn't the time, so you sat down at his bedside. "How's your thigh?" You asked as you lightly touched where the epi pen had been administered.

"Sore." He pouted as you shook your head and chuckled.

"Poor baby." You said as you rubbed small circles around the area. "Speaking of which, we're gonna be here a while." You said as you looked at the time it was around 8:30.

"Here, come here, Princess. I'll turn on the tv." Robert said as he reached for your daughter. He frowned as she shook her head and refused to look at him. "You don't want to cuddle?" He asked, the sadness clear in his voice. 

"Why don't you cuddle with Daddy? It might make him feel better." You whispered to your daughter in hopes she might perk up. She hesitated before nodding and climbing onto the bed and snuggling into Robert's side. He smiled as she finally acknowledged him and reached to turn the tv on and flip through the channels before finding a child friendly channel. The two of them just sat in silence as everyone turned their attention to the small tv.

After about an hour, you turned to see your daughter sleeping and your husband nodding off. It was a sweet sight, and surely both of them needed the rest. Unfortunately, you still had to talk to Robert and now was as good a time as ever.

"Honey?" You prodded his shoulder before going to move the wisps of hair out of his face. He started to stir and murmured something before opening his eyes.

"Hmm?" He squinted his eyes at the light. 

"I found out how you got sick." You whispered. He raised a tired brow. "When you were in the bathroom and I had my back turned while cutting the strawberries...Layla added strawberry sauce to your bowl. Apparently, we're both blind since we didn’t see the color." You shook your head. "That's why she's been avoiding you...she feels bad." He frowned before looking at the sleeping toddler. 

"Poor girl. Probably scared her half to death." He murmured as he pet down her stray hairs and put his lips to her hairline.

"She just wanted to help...she thought you might like it. I told her she has to ask next time before adding anything to our food." Tears started to pool in your eyes unbeknownst to you. "She thinks it's her fault." A tear dripped down your cheek. "It isn’t really. I should've been watching her better." You stifled a sob as Robert reached for you.

"Hey, hey. It's not her fault, and it's not yours either. It was a mistake. I'm ok! We're all ok..." He said as he pulled you close and kissed your temple. 

"But I could've lost you! And she thinks it's her fault, but it's not she's just a baby! I'm the adult! I should've known better!" You cried. You didn't want to break down like this, but you couldn't help it. Robert was the love of your life and because you were careless...you could've lost him. It was just too much.

"Shh. Hey. Don't cry." He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. "Everything’s all right. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine...I bought the damned stuff, and then when I thought I tasted it, I continued to eat it!" He laughed as you chuckled sadly.

"To be fair, you aren't the brightest." You smirked as he feigned offense.

"I'll have you know I'm a doctor. Thank you very much." 

"And yet you don't carry your epi pen. I had to sneak it into your briefcase and give Foreman one in case of emergencies." You rolled your eyes.

"I don't need one!" 

"And what do you call this?" 

"A fluke!" You scoffed at his excuse.

You were about to protest, but a nurse came in.

"Looks like you're good to go!" She said as she went over the chart before going to remove the iv. 

Eventually, the three of you made it home, and after quickly cleaning up and putting Layla to bed, you collapsed onto your own. You snuggled up into the covers exhausted after the emotional day you had. Soon enough, the space next to you sunk down and two arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a firm chest. He started to kiss the back of your hair and rub circles on your hips as you giggled softly.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. You already had an exhausting day. I don't want to over exert you." You said as you hid your tired smirk in the pillow.

"Please...if anyone gets exhausted, it's you. Then again, screaming and moaning my name all night must be tiring." You could hear the smirk through his voice as you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not the one that fell asleep as soon as he-" 

"That was one time! I had a tiring day at work..." You twisted in his arms to look at the pouting man.

"I know, love." You smirked. He started to lean in to kiss you, but you quickly put your fingers to his lips. "Nuh-uh. No mouth kisses, remember, mister?" He groaned.

"I'm never buying strawberries again."

Author's Note: @mother-marilynn

[an-angels-fury]

My Adam Frankenstein Headcanons: You loving the Creature ❤️

Hey guys! How are you doing? I had the idea to make this post some days ago and it took me some more to finally finish it. I was also very insecure about sharing this in my blog because I'm not very used to create headcanons (specially involving interaction between character and reader) and I'm afraid those ones I wrote might sound kinda silly (or too OOC), but I still tried my best. Hope that, at least, some of you still enjoy my ideas.

P.S.: My headcanons are based on Mary Shelley's novel and the 2004 Hallmark miniseries (at least that was my intention). But you still can try to use them with any other Frankenstein version/adaptation if you prefer.

Warning: Too much fluff 🥰 (and a little bit of angst)

The Creature was never used to any little gestures of love or gentle touches (actually all his experiences involving human touch only bring him back memories of suffering and pain), so be careful and don't act hastily when you try to get closer to him phisically to not frighten him away.

He'll try to keep distance from you too at first because he's too afraid of scaring you with his appearence. The thought of you running away from him, of being rejected just like so many times before in his life, specially by someone he cares about so dearly like you, tears his heart apart.

You'll have to be patient to gain his trust. Take little steps, do little actions, showing you intend no harm towards him. Look him in the eyes to show him you're not disgusted by his looks. Walk by his side to show him you're not intimidated by his presence. Slowly, try to take his hand and hold it gently in yours, showing him you truly desire his company.

At last, when you sense he feels safe enough around you, stand in front of him and touch his face (he's a 8-foot tall dude - TALL AS HELL - so better try to do it when he's sit or laid, just a suggestion). Hold it in your hands, caress his cheeks and trace his scars with your fingertips, carefully, and, if you have courage enough, give him a kiss in the head.

Don't get worried if he doesn't show reaction at all at first or remain motionless in his place for a moment, and suddenly start to sob and cry uncontrolably. His heart's a mess of intense and conflicting emotions and he never learned any other way to cope. He just can't believe that you, the most beautiful and luminous of all living beings, is right there, touching him, by your own free will. How could he be loved? HE, a monster, a hellish soul stuck in a body built of death and rotten flesh? This wasn't happening... it couldn't be real.

This will be the perfect opportunity to hold him for the first time. He definitely never felt so safe in someone's arms before (I mean, this is literally the first time he shares a hug with anyone...). This is what he always wanted: someone who wasn't scared to love him, someone who accepted and embraced him, wholly and completly, even the ugliest parts of his soul, the ones he was taught by the world to hate the most about himself.

After this single special moment, he'll always search for a chance to hug you too. You can't help but find extremely adorable the way this giant man, whose stare is enough to intimidate any presence in a room, is actually just a big cat pouring against your cheek, needy for care and attention that only you can offer.

You see no problem with it, actually you love the sensation of his big, strong arms around you, making you feel warm and protected from the world outside, specially when he carries you. But sometimes you have to remember him to be careful and slow down when he gets too excited. He's absurdly stronger than a ordinary man, so it's important to put some bounderies, which he'll totally respect, since he'd never forgive himself for hurting you, even accidently.

He also loves to hold you when you both sleep together and you could never deny him such pleasure. Lying in his big, warm chest, surrounded by his arms, hearing his slow breath and feeling his heartbeat, all of this brings you such a calm and comfortable sensation to your body and mind that you secretly wish to remain like this forever.

Being pratical and useful are important aspects of his love language (remember when he tried to help the De Lacey family before everything goes to shit?) He cares deeply about your needs and is decided to do everything out of his reach to help you accomplish your goals. Your happiness makes him happy. Your thankful smile and sincere words of kindness mean the world to him.

Give him pet names ('my love', 'my darling', etc.) to demonstrate your affection. He was never given a real name by his own creator, always being refered by him and other people as 'creature' at best and as 'wretch', 'devil', 'miserable' or 'abomination' at worst. Maybe he gets kinda confused at first, but after some time, when he gets used to it, he'll smile and try to do the same with you.

Talk to him about your tastes, hobbies and interests. He'd not only have a deep desire to know more about you and understand the world you live in, but would also love to share his own past experiences with you, all the fascinating things he learned by himself about life, nature and love. You both could spend hours teaching many lessons to each other, discovering new interesting content, spending a good and calm afternoon indicating your favorite books to one another, reading them together and then debate about what you both enjoyed the most.

[nipuni]

Doctor Who status report! and from a couple other shows too because we are both head over heels in love with David Tennant and are watching all his body of work lmao

Alright so we finished DW S5 and are two episodes into S6 and I'll say 11th has grown on me a lot since my last report! Matt is so cute! we enjoyed the episode "The Lodger" it had some of that feeling I was missing from the previous seasons I think, and the two final episodes of S5 were cool!! And S6 started strong with the first two-parter, we are...so confused but in a good way? It's different and the writing quality wobbles but we are enjoying it very much nonetheless! I do feel like some of the values and handling of certain topics has been inconsistent since the writer swap so it feels a bit strange sometimes but it's still early so we'll wait and see! OH and the christmas special was so lovely!!

Then we also watched "Casanova" BBC 2005 miniseries for David and IT WAS SO GOOD honestly we were not expecting much and we both ended up crying lmao, it's also so funny!!

And we also watched "Around the World in 80 days" 2021!! It may not be very loyal to the book but it's great on it's own and so adorable and fun and SO BEAUTIFUL!! the locations, the costumes!! David's Phileas Fogg is the most loveable pathetic wet cat of a man just the absolute babygirlest I've seen him, this show was made for me I swear to god I was clutching my knees the whole season, please watch it!! I think it's getting a second season inspired by Twenty thousand leagues under the seas? I hope it does 🥺

Oh and belated Happy Halloween!! I didn't manage to draw anything for it this year but we did dress up as Edwardian vampires and went out! I think half of Madrid asked to take a picture with us and yet I didn't take any good ones askjfh but it was so fun, everyone was so nice to us 😭 The weather also got very cold and rainy all of a sudden and we are elated!! it's wool coat, gloves, hats and boots season again, I'm at my most powerful!!

Anyway I go back to drawing for now, hopefully I will be able to squeeze in some fanart and photos soon 😊

[cosmic-whispers]

New Beginnings (Kisses: Part 4) - Azriel x Reader

Series Summary: A series of one-shots highlighting significant kisses throughout your relationship with Azriel. Part 4 aka THE kiss. 

Warnings: fluff, suggestiveness, some light angst

Word Count: 4.2k 

A/N: Hello everyone!! I hope you all enjoy the final part of this little miniseries, I had so much fun writing it! This was supposed to be ready on time for @starfallweek, but the last 3 weeks have been really hard on me and I wasn’t able to work on it at all. Please let me know your thoughts, love you all!! 

The light, crisp breeze carried the scent of freshly blooming flowers through your window. The bright, colorful flowers were waking from their winter slumber and Velaris had never looked more beautiful. The grass turned lush and green, and vibrant wildflowers decorated the city’s corners. Spring had arrived and it carried a sense of joy and hope to the citizens of the city. And yet, the uncontrollable melancholia growing in your heart seeped deep into your bones. 

It was your last week in Velaris. 

Your healing apprenticeship in the Night Court was coming to a close agonizingly fast and a cloud of gloom had followed you for the past week.

Despite your initial reluctance to come to the Night Court, you decided within your first few months there that it had been the best decision that you had made in your life. The knowledge and friendships you had gained were invaluable, and you thought of how much you would miss your newfound friends. 

You thought of him. 

Azriel. 

You had formed a deep connection with the Illyrian in such a short amount of time. As much as it exhilarated you, it also frightened you how special he had become to you. He made your heart race in your chest and your pulse quicken beneath your skin. Your heart broke at the thought of leaving him. You knew the feelings deep in your chest ran deeper than friendship or a mere connection. You were falling in love. 

You cursed the Mother. You would find the perfect male, fall in love with him, and then have to leave him. 

A knock interrupted your thoughts, and you glanced at the opening bedroom door. Eloise’s head popped through. 

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been locked in here all day.”

You sighed, gaze shifting back to the window. You heard her close the door and shuffle closer to you on the bed. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, hand gently squeezing, and you leaned your head on her shoulder. 

“I should be happy,” you said. “I miss my family and it will be nice to be home again. But…” you trailed off. Admitting your feelings out loud made them all too real. It was easier to ignore them, keep them locked tightly in your chest. It would make the heartbreak easier to deal with. 

“But you fell in love,” Eloise finished for you. You sighed, gaze still fixed on the trees blooming outside of the window. You didn’t deny it. “Most people would be happy.”

You stood up, shaking your head and pacing the room. “How can I? I’m leaving in less than a week and I’ll probably never see him again.”

“You’re overthinking, (Y/N). That male is completely smitten with you.”

“He’s just my friend.”

Eloise rolled her eyes at you. “And you think your friend would abandon you and stop talking to you just because you move away? Doesn’t sound like a good friend.”

You stopped pacing, throwing yourself backward on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. “No…he’s too kind to do that.”

Her warm hand gripped yours and you looked at her face. “You should tell him how you feel.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re stupid. He’s crazy about you. And you said it yourself–we’re leaving in less than a week. If he does turn you down, what do you have to lose?”

“I don’t know…” you trailed. Exposing your feelings and being vulnerable with Azriel frightened you. You wondered if you were a fool for falling for him so quickly after meeting him. Perhaps you were. But you could not deny the strong connection you felt towards him–how he made your heart beat wildly in your chest, how thoughts of his beautiful face consumed your thoughts, how the butterflies would erupt in your stomach every time he would show up at the infirmary. 

Starfall was approaching. Azriel seemed so excited when he was explaining the celebration to you and you had always wanted to see the spectacle. Maybe you would tell him then. Maybe Eloise was right and he did return your feelings. While the thought of him rejecting you sent dread piercing through your heart, you could not stop the blossoming hope. Maybe he did return your feelings. Your leaving would make it complicated, but if he asked you to stay…maybe you would say yes. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you said. “I think I should tell him how I feel.”

—---------

There was a dull ache building in Azriel’s shoulders and biceps as he kneaded the dough. He glanced at Feyre, who seemed energized despite helping Elain since early in the morning. He was definitely not going to complain or ask for a break before she did. 

“Thank you both for helping me today,” Elain said, placing a tray of freshly baked pastries on the counter next to him. He waited until she turned her back to steal one and hide it within his shadows.  

“Of course, Elain! Thank you for making the desserts for tonight,” Feyre said, smiling at her sister. 

Elain smiled at Feyre and then shifted her eyes to him. 

“(Y/N) coming to the party tonight, right?” she asked. 

Azriel felt the heat rise to his cheeks and glanced down, staring intently at the dough he was working on. He resisted the smile that fought to rise to his face. 

“Why do you ask?” he answered. 

“She told Nesta that guava pastries are her favorite, so I made some for her.”

He glanced back up at his friend, grateful. She smiled knowingly at him.

“She told me she’d be here,” he said, thoughts drifting to you. He wondered how you would look tonight. Beautiful, no doubt about it. Would you wear blue again? How would you look with the twinkling, traveling stars behind you?

“I’m sorry that she’s leaving soon. But I’m sure you’ll be able to visit each other.”

A silent, calm panic spread through his body, chilling him to his bones and his ears started to ring. Elain must be mistaken. He looked at her, face serious and he struggled to keep his expression calm. 

“What?” 

Elain hesitated at his reaction. She avoided eye contact and twiddled her flour-covered fingers together. 

“Eloise told Nesta that their apprenticeship ends in the next few days. They’ll all be going home next week.” His breathing grew heavy, and the incessant pounding of his heart caused his hands to shake. He pulled his shadows tight against him in a desperate attempt to shield his reaction. But the pity in the sisters’ eyes told him it was too late. 

“I’m so sorry, Azriel. I thought you knew; that she would’ve told you.”

He shakes his head, unable to find his voice at the panic rapidly spreading through his chest.  

“Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe she decided to stay,” Feyre said, trying to comfort him. He appreciated the effort, but the anxiety spreading through him made it difficult to find truth in her words. 

“You should talk to her,” Elain said, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Maybe tonight.”

She was right. He needed to speak with you. There was too much that he needed to say to you. He did not want you to leave without knowing how he felt about you. He wanted to stare down into your eyes, filled with kindness and an edge of cheekiness he ached for. He wanted to take you on dates in Velaris and he wanted to be teased by his family for being so damn soft for you. He wanted your kisses–your touch. He just wanted you. 

He would tell you tonight. He had to. 

Perhaps you would reject him. Perhaps nothing he said would change your mind. But he had to try. You had to know. If there was a sliver of a chance that you would decide to stay with him, he would take it. 

—----

Rhysand never spared any expense when it came to his Starfall celebrations. Decadent food filled the tables, soft music was being played by the live band that was hired, and the decorations were elegant and lavish. Faerie lights twinkled throughout the space, filling the rooms with a relaxed and enchanting atmosphere. 

Azriel stood in the corner, a glass of whisky in his hand and he smiled and brought it to his lips as Cassian snuck in the wine that Rhys had banned for the night. 

“I believe Rhys explicitly told you not to drink that wine,” Azriel said to him as he passed. 

The General rolled his eyes at him. “Oh, Azriel, please do crawl out of Rhysand’s ass. What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”

He chuckled at his friend as he managed to get the cork out of the bottle and served himself a healthy amount. He placed the bottle behind a vase on the shelf behind them, winking at Azriel. 

“Waiting for your damsel?”

He rolled his eyes at him. “She’s not my damsel. She’s my friend.”

Cassian grasped him hard on the shoulder, his grin wide and eyes twinkling.  “I’m happy for you, brother. You deserve happiness in your life.”

He turned his face away from Cassian. “She’s leaving. It really doesn’t matter. I wish you would all leave it alone.”

“Have you spoken to her about this?”

“I will. I’m just…” Azriel did not want to continue. He did not want to admit how afraid he was of you walking out of his life and him never getting the chance to see you again. His stomach fluttered with nerves at the thought of confronting you about it. He was afraid of what you would say–that it would solidify your departure from Velaris. From him. 

“Talk to her about it. There she is now,” Cassian said, pointing towards the entrance.

Azriel’s eyes shifted to you, his shadows swirling and whispering around him. Whatever it was that they said fell on deaf ears as all thoughts of anything else except you escaped from him. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Your black dress hugged your gorgeous figure like a second skin, falling to your feet and dipping entirely too low on your chest. Your makeup made your already beautiful features glow, like a mythical goddess. Your eyes met his, shining bright and entrancing him. 

He found himself making his way over to you and you smiled wide at him once he reached you. 

“Good evening, Azriel. Happy Starfall,” you said.

He smiled back at you. “Happy Starfall, sweetness. You look beautiful.”

You looked down, embarrassed and he smiled at your bashfulness. You glanced back at him and he pretended not to notice the way your eyes trailed over his form. 

“You look very handsome, Azriel,” she answered. He felt heat rise to his face and looked away. “Are you sure the dress is not too much? Nesta helped Eloise pick it out. You know how they can be,” you said, giggling. 

“Not at all. You are easily the most beautiful female in the room,” he admitted,

You grew shy again, looking down at the floor. The conversation stilted for a moment, the tension heavy between the two of you. There was so much that he needed to say to you, ask you. The nerves in his stomach swirled, and he debated whether this was the right moment to speak to you about your leaving. 

Your gaze drifted to couples gathering on the dance floor. The band began playing a soft, romantic song and you began swaying. 

Azriel figured there would be time to discuss serious matters later. At that moment, he would seize the opportunity to hold you in his arms. 

“Would you like to dance?”

You looked at him and nodded, a sweet smile growing on your face, He grabbed your small hand in his, whisking you to the dancefloor. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you close to him, reveling in your softness and warmth, your scent swirling around him. Your arms raised to wrap around his broad shoulder and you met his gaze. How often had he dreamed of holding you in this way? Of leaning down and pressing his lips to yours? He began to sway the both of you, stepping and twirling when the music called for it. 

“You’re a great dancer,” you complimented, smiling up at him. His heart stuttered in his chest at your beauty and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks at your praise. 

“You sound surprised,” he teased.  

“Not surprised,” you said. “Merely making an observation. It makes sense that the Spymaster is light on his feet. You have great footwork, twinkle toes.”

He felt heat spread across his cheeks and glared at you.

“I am a feared Shadowsinger,” he said through gritted teeth and you raised an eyebrow at him in defiance. Insolent little female. The brief image of bending you over his knee and spanking your ass raw crossed his mind, but he quickly willed the thought away and continued. “Do not call me twinkle toes.”

“As you wish, twinkle toes,” you said, giggling. The audacity. Mother above, you would be the death of him. 

He spun you unexpectedly, quickly drawing you back into his arms, body flush against his, and dipped you low. A gasp caught in your throat and your hands were splayed across his chest, the fabric thin enough that he could feel the imprint of your palms against his skin. Your eyes shone brightly, and you smiled wide. He wanted to stay there, relishing in the heat and softness of your body against his, but the other dancing coupes jostled you, shoving and forcing you both to step away from each other. 

“Do you want a drink?” he whispered in your ear and you nodded. He led you to where the refreshments were laid out, and you grabbed a drink for yourself. 

He kept glancing at you, admiring your dewy skin, alight from the exertion of your dance.

“This is my first Starfall,” you said. He could practically feel you vibrating with excitement, the bright smile on your face seldom leaving. 

“You’re leaving.” The words flew out of Azriel’s mouth too quick for him to process what he had said. He regretted instantly as the smile faded from your face and your eyes grew sad. 

“Yes,” you said, your voice quiet. You broke your gaze away from this, looking down at the swirling liquid in your cup. “Next week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. Did you not want him to know? Were you planning on disappearing one day without even saying goodbye? 

“I’m sorry, Azriel. I was going to. Tonight, actually. It’s just…saying it out loud makes it all the more real. As much as I miss my family, Velaris has started to feel like my home.”

“It can be,” he said, voice quiet. You smiled sadly at him and he took a deep breath before baring his thoughts to you. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You drew in a shaky breath before answering him. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

He marveled at how easily you had him wrapped around your finger. At how quickly you were able to tear down the fortress around his heart and burrow yourself so deeply within his soul. 

“You can stay,” he said softly. “I don’t want to pressure you. I will respect any choice you make. But, you must know that you will always have a home here in Velaris. Madja would love the help, we can find you somewhere to live or you can move in with us. You’ll always have security here, (Y/N). You’ll always have me.”

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Thank you, Azriel. I don’t know…Things got a bit more complicated than I thought when I first came here,” you said. You began fiddling your fingers together and he could sense you getting anxious. His shadows swirled gently around your wrists, and you smiled at their soft caress. 

“I have a lot to think about, I suppose.”

“Let’s not ruin the night,” he said, wishing he had never broached the subject. Your eyes had grown sad, and the bright smile that had been plastered on your face dimmed. “It’s your first Starfall. We should enjoy the moment.”

You forced a smile on your face and nodded. He grasped your hand in his once more, twirling you toward the dance floor, where he kept you for most of the night. He was engrossed by you, his rapt attention not waning from you despite his family’s attempts to steal you away from him. 

“Starfall is about to begin,” he said and you smiled wide, eyes shining brightly in excitement. 

“I can’t wait. I’ve heard so much about how beautiful it is. I feel so lucky that I get to witness it,” you said, getting ready to join the crowd gathering on the balcony. He grabbed onto your arms gently, pulling you back against him, and leaned down, close to your ear. Your sweet, addicting scent calmed his nerves. He knew he needed to speak with you alone and he was ready to take the chance. 

“Would you like a better view?”

You nodded and he grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. He took you up two flights of stairs and down a hallway to his room. 

The sight of you in his room, looking as beautiful as you did, made his heart race. He imagined you there in the morning, curled on the bed as you both woke up, eyes bleary and voices raspy. You splayed on the bed, bare skin dewy from exertion, and him buried in between your thighs. You and him, curled up in the loveseat, your voice lulling him to sleep as you read to him from his favorite novel. He was so enamored by you. 

He grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and you smiled at him. He led you to the private balcony and you both stepped out into the night. The crescent moon did not provide much light, which allowed for the perfect view of falling stars.

He could hear the murmurs from the party gathered a few flights below, Cassian loud guffaw reaching his ears. The brisk air caressed his skin and he admired you as the breeze blew strands of your hair away from your face. 

A single, bright streak illuminated the night sky behind you and you gasped, eyes widening in wonder.  It was starting. 

Hundreds, if not millions, soon joined, lighting the sky in a wild array of colors reflected upon the planes of your face. Despite the impressive show that enraptured you, he could not look away from you. He didn’t want to. You looked up in awe, your eyes bright and reflecting the stars, and your mouth was agape, a gasp stuck in your throat. 

He loved you. He was transfixed by you. He loved every single thing about you. Nothing and no one had ever made him feel the way you did—like he belonged. You were his home. You were the blossoming of hope in his heart, like the warmth of spring conquering the barrenness and cold of winter. You were his new beginning. 

You turned back toward him, a bright smile of wonderment on your face as the barrage of stars continued behind you. Your bright gaze met his, and in that moment, his entire world shifted. A sharp pain below his rib cage surprised him, the swelling of emotions within him encompassing every cell in his body. 

In that moment, you become the center of his world. His mate. 

—----------- 

Your eyes widened at the onslaught of feelings that were traveling through your chest and the newly-formed tether between you. You stared at his beautiful face, mouth agape. Your mind struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, clouded only with thoughts of the male before you. 

“Azriel…you’re my…” Your breath caught in your throat, cutting your sentence off. You found it difficult to speak as emotion swelled within you, forcing your throat shut and tears to spring to your eyes. 

“Mate,” he whispered. He moved closer to you, his steps slow and deliberate, giving you the chance to get away from him if this is not what you wanted. But you didn’t step away. Your legs carried you closer to him and your arms raised to wrap around his broad shoulders, hugging him tight to your body. His arms coiled around your waist, tightening as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck. 

You burrowed your face in the junction between his shoulder and neck, inhaling the addicting scent of mist and cedar. Azriel’s shoulders began to shake gently, his large frame unable to hide the sudden reaction. You grew concerned as a shaky sigh escaped him and gently moved away, keeping your arms wrapped around him. 

The tears running down his face made a few of your own escape. You gently cupped his cheeks, thumbs caressing the soft skin, and dried the tears gently.

“Are you upset?” you whispered. He chuckled, his breathing still shaky. He shook his head. 

“I hoped it was you,” he began his arms tightening around you and pulling you as close as possible. He was leaning down, keeping his face close to yours, your noses bumping. Your heart skipped a beat as one of his hands came up to brush against your heated cheek. His fingers were calloused, the scars like valleys and canyons on the plains of his skin. It was the most comforting feeling in the world.

“I never thought I’d find you. I thought I was cursed…that I was being punished for the things I’ve done and would be forced to see everyone around me with their soulmate while I was damned to roam alone, always in pain, always suffering. And then I met you. It was like you breathed life back into me, (Y/N). I wasn’t sure, but I prayed to the mother for you to be my mate.”

The swelling of emotions within you made it difficult to think, to respond to him. You let the emotions–the blistering, encompassing feeling of love brewing deep in your heart and soul–travel through the bond, and he gasped, tears continuing to fall from his eyes. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips against his tear-streaked cheek. You pulled back, smiling at him. 

“Azriel,” you began, voice tight with emotion. One of his large hands splayed across the small of your back, holding you tight against the strong plains of his body, and the other cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbones. “I always hoped, too. Since the moment I met you, I felt a deep connection with you. You make me feel so comfortable and I…I fell in love with you. You are the kindest, strongest, most courageous male in all of Prythian and I am so lucky that you’re mine. “

You leaned up once more, pressing another kiss to his cheekbone. His shadows swirled around the two of you, quick and alight with energy. 

“You are my mate, (Y/N),” he said, eyes still brimming with tears and a large grin was overtaking his face. “All mine. Forever. I’m going to kiss you now and then I’m going to ravish you.”

Your body went pliant in his arms, melting against him and a pleasant heat spread across your cheeks and built in your lower belly. Your heart swelled, overwhelmed with his scent, his burning touch, his intense gaze fixed solely on you, and the waves of love and lust crashed against you through the golden thread between the two of you. 

Your hand raised, tracing across the golden brown skin of his cheekbone, gentle fingers running over the soft freckles on his cheeks. His eyes were alight with pure joy, his cheeks flushed and a large grin seemed affixed to his face. He was the most gorgeous male you had ever seen. You were the luckiest female in the world. 

“Yes,” you said. “Please.”

He leaned down, your noses brushing lightly, and finally brought his lips to yours. He pecked your lips, so gentle it made frustration grow in you. You huffed in annoyance and he chuckled. Damn Illyrian baby knew exactly what he was doing. 

Despite his amusement, he seemed to be craving you as much as you were craving him, and he brought you deeper into him and traced his tongue over your lips. The fluttering in your stomach exploded and you gasped at the raw feeling of love and devotion you felt as he kissed you. For someone so infuriatingly calm, he kissed you like a male dying of thirst–a male that could never be sated. You rejoiced in the desire and love in you; at just how right it felt to finally give into each other. 

“Stay,” he whispered, trailing his plump, swollen lips down your jaw and neck. “Please stay here. Please don’t leave.” Desperation coated his words and you felt your heart break. No. You could not leave. You finally had him–your mate–in your arms. He was yours and you had no intention of losing him. 

“No,” you panted, gripping his shoulders tight as he kissed down your neck and began spattering kisses on your collarbones. “I’m not leaving you, mate.” 

The spring breeze helped cool your heated skin as his wandering hands and lips explored you. You could not help but thank the Mother for blessing you with your new beginning. 

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