#so she takes the extra precaution to keep herself steady

[storm-angel989]

Heyyaa dear💌

I love all your Vees fics 😘. If I may request, can we have another Valentino x female SO?

Just anything you want, I am just craving it.

Hi friend, 

How about a pregnant reader x Val?!

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy

I laid on the examination table, my hand wrapped in Valentino’s. Unlike me, whose anxious heartbeat was displayed on the monitor for the entire room to see, Valentino looked calm. Relaxed, even. Usually, it was the opposite. He was the overly dramatic husband, and me? I was the cool and steady wife. 

“Settle, mi amore,” he said gently as he laid a hand on my slightly swollen belly. “Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.” 

“I can’t settle,” I replied anxiously. “What if she’s hurt, what if I ate something or did something that…”

“Bebita. Morning sickness is all part of it, we knew that going in, right?” He replied calmly. “Let’s let the doctor do her thing and see what she has to say.” 

As if on cue, the curtin pulled back and the nurse stepped in. I leaned back and closed my eyes as I took a deep breath. One of the many benefits of being Valentino’s wife. Private, in home healthcare just two floors down. 

“Hello Reader, how are you feeling?” The doctor greeted me as she washed her hands. 

“Nauseous, puffy, worried, need I say more?” I answered as I gripped Valentino’s hand a little tighter. 

“Nauseous and puffy are normal. We can give you something for that. Anything specific you’re worried about?” She asked as she sat down and wheeled herself closer. 

I didn’t answer. How could I explain the gnawing feeling in my stomach that something would go wrong? I had overcome my fathers death, Adam’s attempt at extermination, negotiated a deal between heaven and my Uncle Lucifer and now, here I was, five months pregnant, unable to put my feelings into words. Slowly, I shook my head no.

The doctor shrugged. “That’s normal too. Sometimes expectant mothers feel nervous. It's important to practice grounding yourself and talking about those feelings when they strike. You’re keeping up with your routine, yes?”

I nodded. How could I not? I just started to take over running Hell. It wouldn’t do to step off or to the side just as I started to slip into my Uncle Lucifer’s shoes. 

“I’m going a little easier at the gym. Not for as long, or as hard. Lighter yoga practices. A little less running,” I added.

“That’s good. Exercise is important, and you may find that as time goes on you’ll need to lighten the load even more,” she said. “But for now, it sounds like you’re doing everything right. Let’s see how baby is doing, shall we?”

I nodded and Valentino squeezed my hand reassuringly. The lights dimmed and I watched as she rubbed the cold gel on my stomach. The rhythmic line on the heart monitor jumped and a frown crossed Valentino’s face. Typically, heart monitors were not part of this entire process, but with my blood being angelic- albeit fallen, and Valentino’s being demonic, Valentino insisted on extra monitors and extra precautions taken at each and every doctor's appointment. 

I suspected he simply liked watching my heart rate. 

The wand moved over my belly, and after a few seconds, the doctor pointed at the screen. 

“Right there, that’s your baby,” she said. “Look, she’s doing backflips.” 

That lined right up with the fluttering I felt in my stomach. I turned my head to look at Valentino and to my surprise, he was watching the screen with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. 

“Look at that mi amore,” he said softly. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Our bebita princessa.”

“Is she okay?” I asked anxiously. 

“She’s doing just fine,” the doctor reassured me. 

Several clicks of her machine later, she handed a towel to Valentino and instructed him to wipe the gel from my belly. He did so gently, pausing for a moment to kiss my forehead. 

“You did so good,” he praised softly. “So, so good.”

“I didn’t do anything but lay here,” I mumbled. “I laid here, and got scanned.”

“You’re growing our baby, that isn’t anything,” he admonished gently. “Now give me your arm. Little poke.”

I grumbled but lifted up my left arm. There was one thing in the world I hated more than medical exams, and that would be blood draws. At the start of all this, I made Valentino promise to be the only one to draw blood, and within reason, be the one to put in any IV lines. Even though he only employed the best medical staff, Valentino had a talent that went beyond years of medical practice. One quick pinch and a purple bandaid later, we headed back upstairs. The unease hadn’t settled much and as soon as we got to the flat, I pulled out my laptop in an attempt to distract myself and settled on the couch.

“Bebita, you need a snack or something after the amount of blood I took,” Valentino’s voice came softly. 

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered as I pulled up my program.

“Juicebox and a cookie, that’s all I’m asking,” he prodded. “For the baby?”

I sighed in annoyance and snapped my laptop shut. I heaved myself to my feet and made my way to the kitchen. 

“I want coffee,” I grumbled as I opened the fridge. “I want a caramel pumpkin spice iced latte with extra cream and extra sugar. Oh! And a pumpkin cream cheese muffin. That would do the trick, right?”

The look on my husbands face almost made me laugh. Valentino didn’t get nervous, but watching him fidget as he tried to figure out the right words to respond left me biting back giggles. 

“Bebita, pumpkin spice coffee…I mean…it’s August,” he began slowly. 

I closed the fridge and slowly turned around as I put my hands on my hips. “So? The doctor said I can have one cup a day. It’s pumpkin spice season. And I want pumpkin spice.” I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice to a whine. “Are you really going to deny me what sounds good?”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said,” he muttered as he pulled out his phone. “Regardless, if that’s really what you want…”

“It is.” 

Exactly sixteen minutes later, I was curled up with Valentino on the couch, sipping on my favorite autumn treat and nibbling on a warm pumpkin muffin.

“I got you your snack, now can you do something for me?” He asked as I ate. 

I raised an eyebrow. “Depends. What is it?” 

He laid a hand on my belly and rubbed gently. “I want to listen to the baby's heartbeat. Will you let me?” 

I looked at him in confusion. “How exactly do you plan on doing that? Will it hurt? Also, why?”

“With a stethoscope, it won’t hurt- I’ll even warm the disc in my hands, and because I want to,” he replied. 

I shrugged as I took another sip. “As long as it doesn’t hurt, fine with me.”

To say his eyes lit up was an understatement. He gently sat me up and hurried off in the direction of the bedroom. I took the final bite of my muffin and settled against the pile of pillows. He returned seconds later, stethoscope wrapped around his hand. 

“Just relax, I promise it won’t hurt,” he said as he knelt next to me.

“Valentino, you are weirdly excited about this,” I said as I laid back. 

“You’re not the only one who worries,” he replied as he pressed his fingers against my neck. “Even with the Voxtech watch monitoring your vitals I just…I worry.”

I frowned. “You didn’t tell me that, Val.”

He shrugged. “One of us has to relax. And it doesn’t always need to be you, especially since you’re growing our baby.”

I swallowed, guilt washing over me. For the first time, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and the tiredness that washed over his face.

 “Val, I…I wish you had told me. We could have handled this together instead of worrying separately. We’re in this together, after all.” I hesitated. “What is your plan here anyway?” 

He studied me. “I was going to listen to your stomach. The doctor said today I could probably hear the babies heartbeat if I put the stethoscope in the right place.”

As much as I hated being poked and prodded, the concern for the tiredness he wore outweighed the disdain. I stretched my arms back. “Val, if it makes you feel better, listen all over.”

He squeezed my hand and leaned over and kissed my forehead. I felt the coolness of the disk against my chest. 

“Val, that’s probably my heart,” I said patiently as I put my hand on top of his. “Baby is down here, in my tummy.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know where the baby is. I’m listening to your heart, mi amore. Making sure it sounds okay. Lucifer said…”

“He said that us having a baby will put a lot of strain on my body, I know,” I filled in. “Fine, listen to whatever you want. But I promise you I’m fine.” 

Under his touch, I took a deep breath and tried to relax as best I could. Eventually, he lifted the disc up and settled it just below the left side of my ribcage. 

“Valentino, that’s probably my stomach,” I began. “You’re not going to hear much except my snack.”

He shushed me and after a few moments, slowly moved the stethoscope down, finally settling on a spot on my swollen tummy. 

“Here,” he said after a few seconds. “Right here. Want to listen?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he settled the stethoscope in my ears. The sound of a heartbeat filled my ears and I quickly removed the device. 

“Nope, Val, that’s weird. I can already feel the baby moving inside me, listening to her too? It’s weird,” I told him. “But if it makes you feel better. Listen all you want.” 

“Invitation accepted,” he said, draping the stethoscope over his neck. 

In a sweeping motion, he lifted me up. I squealed and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Valentino! I am too heavy for this, you put me down right now!” I scolded as I leaned into him. 

He ignored me and carried me down the hallway to our bedroom. He settled me down on the bed and handed me the remote. 

“Watch what you want, I’m going to settle myself right here and try to get some sleep,” he told me. “Get comfortable first.” 

I settled myself against the pillows and turned the television on with the volume on low. He snuggled next to me and I felt the pressure of his head snuggle against my chest. 

“I’ll be okay Val,” I said softly. 

“I know,” he replied as he closed his eyes. “I know you will be. But…” he paused as he adjusted himself. “There is something about reassuring myself by listening to your heart that…I don’t know, makes me feel a little more secure.” 

I snuggled into my husband and kissed the top of his head. He closed his eyes and in minutes, his breathing slowed. I smiled and settled down. Who would have ever guessed the overlord of lust would be so damn soft? I laid my hand on my stomach and a thought flittered through my mind.

Valentino would make a great girl dad.

[lyranova]

What Could Have Been a Happily Ever After

Hiya guys! So i didn’t feel like doing a request today so instead i just wrote this AU where Zera and William get their “happily ever after” that they were cheated out of in the main timeline 😆! I hope you all enjoy~!

Cyraleona Vermillion belongs to @thoughtfullyrainynightmare and Dusk belongs to @loosesodamarble

Word Count: 1,309

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and Birth

———

Zera awoke with a start. She placed a hand on her chest in order to steady her breathing, she had that dream again, the one where she died giving birth to her son Alistar. She felt her husband sit up beside her and wrap his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“ Are you alright? Did you have another bad dream?” William asked softly as he pulled her closer, Zera took a deep breath and nodded.

“ I’m fine, don’t worry.” She told him softly as she leaned back and rested her head against his chest.

“ Was it the dream where you died?” He asked quietly and Zera nodded.

While it had been a close call when Alistar was born, they had managed to save Zera. She had to be on bed rest and in the infirmary for a while, but she eventually recovered. But that didn’t stop her from having bad dreams about that day.

“ Do you think they’ll ever go away?” She asked William, he inhaled before nodding.

“ I think they will eventually.” He kissed the top of her head, the couple looked as they heard someone knock and shout from the other side.

“ Mom, Dad, breakfast is ready!” William and Zera looked at each other before laughing. Zera placed one last kiss onto her husband's lips before getting out of bed. Her husband shook his head before he also climbed out of bed. The couple quickly got ready for the day before they headed out.

Sitting in the dining room were their middle and youngest children; Sebastian and Daisy. After Alistar was born the couple had made the decision to not have any more children, they didn’t want to risk Zera’s health.

But fate had other plans.

A year after Alistar was born Zera found herself pregnant again with their second son Sebastian. After the two talked about whether they wanted to keep the pregnancy or not they decided to talk it over with Owen and get his opinion. He told them that if they wanted to keep it, they could take extra precautions with Zera and even keep her in the infirmary. They talked it over a bit more and eventually decided to keep it.

Zera’s pregnancy and delivery had been a lot easier with Sebastian’s then Alistar’s, which made everyone feel relieved. And 5 years after Sebastian was born came their little girl Daisy.

“ Good morning kids,” Zera said cheerfully as she walked into the dining room. She kissed her 13 year old daughter on the head before walking over to her 18 year old son and kissing his cheek. “ Breakfast looks amazing!”

“ Thank you, we used some of the fresh herbs from your garden to season the omelets.” Daisy said proudly, Zera almost winced as she could imagine the pain her plant babies were in at having their leaves plucked from their stems. But gently reminded herself that was what those plants were intended for.

“ Where’s Alistar?” William asked curiously as he patted his son on the shoulder and kissed his daughter's head before pouring himself a cup of coffee. Sebastian snorted at the mention of his older brother.

“ He already left for the Golden Dawn base, apparently there is a joint mission with the Black Bulls today. So he wanted to leave extra early.” Sebastian said with a chuckle, and everyone looked at each other with a knowing look. Alistar wanted to get there early so he could spend some time with Hikari Yami.

Of course the two weren’t dating, but everyone in the family knew he had a crush on the young woman.

“ I see,” William said with a chuckle. “ but if that’s the case then why are you still here? Shouldn’t you have gone with him?” He asked curiously and Sebastian sighed.

“ I was going to, but I wanted breakfast first. Besides, the mission doesn’t start for another 2-3 hours so I have time.” Sebastian said with a shrug, he had inherited his mother’s time management skills, which meant he was going to wait until the very last minute to leave.

“ He’s also hoping to catch a glimpse of Cyraleona Vermillion before he goes to the base,” Daisy said with a grin. Sebastian turned to look at his sister with a bright red face and wide eyes.

“ I-I am not!” He said quickly as Daisy began to chuckle, and William frowned.

“ Isn’t she dating Nacht and Josele’s son Dusk?” He asked and Daisy nodded.

“ You better not think of overstepping young man,” Zera said with a warning tone to her voice. “ I didn’t raise a homewrecker.” She added, causing Sebastian’s face to grow more red and Daisy to spew her drink before she began to laugh loudly, William just sighed and shook his head.

“ I-I’m not a homewrecker geez what kind of guy do you think I am?!” Sebastian sputtered in surprise. “ I…missed my chance with her, but she’s still my friend and I still care about her. So while I may be jealous of Dusk that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go and try to ruin their relationship, her happiness is what matters most. So if he makes her happy, then I’m happy!” He continued firmly and loudly, causing the family to watch him.

William and Zera looked at each other with small smiles on their faces. This was how they raised their children, and couldn’t be more proud.

“ Well this breakfast has certainly taken a turn for the worse, so I think I’m gonna go.” Sebastian said quickly as he jumped up. He quickly kissed his mother on the cheek and hugged his father before grabbing a piece of toast and running out of the house.

“ It’s so much fun to tease him.” Daisy said with a laugh as she finished her breakfast, Zera chuckled but nodded in agreement.

“ It’s fun to tease any man with the last name ‘Vangeance’. They get so flustered and their faces turn red, it’s like their personalities go from super cool to super uncool like that!” Zera snapped her fingers and Daisy laughed in agreement.

“ While that might be true for Alistar and Sebastian, I certainly don’t act that way.” William said as his cheeks began to turn a light pink, Zera and Daisy both began to laugh.

“ You’re such a liar dear, look your cheeks are turning red!”

“ Yeah Papa you’re just like big brother Alistar and Sebastian!” Daisy said, and William sighed before setting his coffee cup down.

“ This isn’t fair, it’s two against one, and against my favorite women no less.” William muttered with a shake of his head. Zera leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“ That’s the power of the Cassia women, we know how to use our wit and charm for both good and evil.” She told him jokingly, Daisy nodded before standing up.

“ I’m gonna go wait outside mama!” Daisy said quickly before she hugged her parents and kissed them on the cheek before running out of the room.

Zera shook her head before letting out a sigh and collapsing against her husband's shoulder.

“ Have three kids, they said, it would be fun, they said. What a bunch of liars.” She joked as William chuckled but wrapped his arms around her.

“ On most days it is fun, even though it is also tiring.” William told her with a nod.

“ It’s very tiring.”

“ But would you change it though?” William began curiously. “ If you could go back and change things would you?” He watched as his wife bit her bottom lip in thought, before she smiled and shook her head.

“ No, I wouldn't change it for anything in the world.” She agreed with a nod, she moved and wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a gentle but passionate, loving kiss that he reciprocated.

The two had finally gotten their happily ever after.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and i hope you all have a good day~!

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 10: Look so pretty when they bleed

Blood loss with a pinch of Trail of Blood

806 Words; Powerless AU

TW for blood

Skylor was not having a good day.

Her father had completed his spell—and she was now an Anacondrai, which was just great—because of course he did. Chen always got his way, even when it should have been impossible. Even when there was no Master of Earth to complete the spell.

“I’m starting to wonder if they really needed that much blood.” Cole said, sitting heavily.

This was the third time they’d had to stop and rest. At this point, Skylor was wondering if she couldn’t just use the powers of metal to give herself enough of a buff to carry him. Cole probably shouldn’t be walking, even if they had fashioned a makeshift tourniquet.

Not that it had helped all that much. A little trail of red, mostly in small dots and blotches in the dirt, marked their path through the jungle from the cave they’d escaped from.

“Okay, that’s long enough.” Skylor said, moving to help Cole up. Cole winced, but allowed her to support him as they started the trek again.

Their progress was slow, Cole stumbling over what felt like almost every step. But they were making progress, slow as it was, and every step brought them closer to the medical attention Cole was in desperate need of.

Skylor’s side was already damp with Cole’s blood.

“Oh wow,” He said breathlessly, “Is it just me or is everything spinning? Are you dizzy? I feel like I’m about to fall over, oh fuck—”

Cole stumbled forwards, Skylor barely catching him from falling. He trembled.

“This is bad.” Skylor moved to lift Cole up before he could fall again. “This is really really bad.” She hoisted him onto her shoulders, using the powers she’d copied from Karloff to reinforce her body. A fireman’s carry should work best for this situation.

“You okay up there?” She asked, not exactly respecting a reply. Maybe if she’d trained with Bolobo’s powers more then she could clear a path.

No. Skylor needed to focus. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about what-ifs. She had to warn the rest of the alliance, and get Cole to safety.

Cole mumbled something.

“Come again?”

“‘M tired…”

That wasn’t good. That was the opposite of good. “C’mon, dumbass, you gotta stay awake.” What was Skylor supposed to do in this situation? How did she keep this idiot awake? Was she supposed to talk to him?

Yeah, that sounded right.

“You’ve gotta stay awake, Cole.” She said, trying to maneuver over a log without jostling him too much. “Talk to me or something, just—stay awake.” She stopped for a moment to readjust her grip. “Why are you even with the ninja if you don’t have any powers?”

“Oh, that?” Cole asked. “Wu found me climbing the Wailing Alps and recruited me from there. Though I was my aunt’s son.”

Who was Wu? The ninjas’ sensei? Was that his name? Skylor thought their sensei was Garmadon. “Wu’s your sensei?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool. Took me in when my father and I weren’t talking. He’s a bit odd, but I trust him.”

Skylor had the feeling that, were Cole not so woozy from blood loss, he wouldn’t be talking about this. At least, not so openly. It felt almost wrong to be hearing it, like Skylor didn’t have the right to be privy to such information.

But maybe that was just her nerves talking.

Either way, Cole continued, undeterred by the lack of response. “So Wu thought that I was my aunt’s son, and would get her powers. By the time he realized it was a little too late to just send me home, so he kept quiet about it. He keeps telling me that, with the Overlord defeated, there’s no need for me to be a ninja anymore, but he doesn’t tell the others that when they’re in the same boat as me, except they have powers. The whole reason Wu gathered us together in the first place was because of the green ninja prophecy, and that’s already been fulfilled, so technically none of us need to stick around.”

“But you do anyway?” Skylor understood about half the things Cole just said.

Cole snorted. “Obviously. The others are family. I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Skylor was navigating a particularly treacherous patch of undergrowth when Cole spoke up again. “It’s why we came to this tournament.” He said softly. “Zane is—Zane is our brother and knowing that he’s alive—”

“I’m sorry.” Skylor said, before she even realized.

“What do you have to be sorry for? It’s your father who had the bright idea to pull all this shit.”

Skylor nodded, but the words were just words. But she couldn’t change the past—she’d just have to do better moving forwards.

And she could start by getting Cole and herself out of this jungle alive.

[shadowbriar]

Soul Bound - George Weasley

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 3.1k Warning : Mentions of self harm and blood. Injury. Notes : This story was posted first on my Ao3 account. The old grimoire was wide open for her to read. Truth be told, she never thought she would ever need to open the grimoire. But desperate time calls for desperate measures and that’s certainly what she is right now. I had to make George's version of the Battle of 7 Potters. I think this might be my favourite angst chapter so far. Let me know what you think!

She takes a deep shaky breath. The small black gem was gleaming, reflecting the light of the candles around her. Dark magic is never to be meddled with, she knows full well of it, but if this could mean an extra protection for him, she’ll do it. Whatever the cost might be.

The old grimoire was wide open for her to read. Being one of the most ancient lineages of purebloods, the family grimoire contains every secretive ritual, spells, and potions her family has ever come across. Now being the sole heiress, the book is finally of her possession. She never thought that the very first thing she’d do from the book would be to cast a binding curse. Truth be told, she never thought she would ever need to open the grimoire. But desperate time calls for desperate measures and that’s certainly what she is right now.

Desperate.

Reading the scribbles one more time, she placed the gem in the middle of the room. The candles surrounding it lit brighter as she started to chant the spells. As the gem begins to levitate, she reaches for the family blade and cuts her palm. Her blood drips to the jewel, washing it scarlet red before somehow sopping it all in. And as she ends her chanting by saying his name, loud and clear, the stone turns into ash.

Carefully, she collects the fine dust and heads to the window, blowing every last speck to the sky, praying for the wind to carry it to him. He would never know what she’d done. It would be one little secret she could keep to herself. It was just a precaution, after all. There’s nothing to worry about.

Nothing would happen to either of them. She knows it.

----

She smiles as Harry engulfs her in a bear hug. It has been a while since she’s seen everyone. The ritual preparation had taken so much of her time that she didn’t even have the time to help with the joke shop, but her boyfriend was always the most understanding of all the Weasleys. One little white lies and she was off the hook.

The fourteen of them are gathered now in Privet Drive. George’s hand never leaves her, as if looking for a steady ground before marching to the storm. She wasn’t sure if he was more worried of her being instead of his. Knowing him, the prior might be the one truth as he’s always played the protective boyfriend ever since they started dating 3 years ago. It was because of this thought that she initiated the binding curse. George would do anything to protect her, even when it means sacrificing his own life.

And she couldn’t have that.

For this one thing, she chooses to be the egoistic party.

“How do I look?” George asks, fixing his glasses.

“Very Harry-like.” She says as she puts her jumper on “How about me, how do I look?”

“As hideous as Harry always is.”

She lets out a whole-hearted laughter, “I’d kiss you but you look like Harry and I wouldn’t want to have his image on my head for the next few nights.”

“Well, you can always kiss me later. When I look less of a scrawny specky git.” He says with a teasing smile, earning a light punch to the shoulder by her. George’s grin didn’t last long. His expression changes into a soft heartfelt one, taking one of her hands “Be careful, alright?”

She nods, smiling, “You too, love.”

With Mad-eye yelling in their ears, it didn’t take long for the seven potters to line outside on their brooms, each of their guardians mounted beside them. Adrenaline was starting to fill her veins, chest burning as her heart tried to keep her blood regulated. Her fingers were cold. An ugly feeling brewing inside her stomach. Something is wrong.

But there was no time for second thoughts now. The plan is already in motion. She could only hope that this ill feeling was just her imagination. Everything will turn out well tonight. She’s got Mad-eye as her guardian afterall. Only a mental would ever try to duel Mad-eye.

And so the fourteen of them fly. Her grip on her broom tightens as she soars higher to the sky. Her vision was getting darker, cold clouds canvasing the sky. She has to squint her eyes to clearly see the green flames through the darkness. They couldn’t be lightning for sure. They would have heard the thunder if it was.

Instead, cries of jinx were becoming audible. George, Remus, and Mad-eye who was closest to her start to ready their wands. Their plan has been compromised.

As the flock of clouds cleared, dozens of Death Eaters were flying across the sky. They yell Harry's name as they cast hexes. She leans forward, trying to match George’s speed so he could get support. Remus and Mad-eye were left behind, trying to stall the Death Eaters who were chasing them two.

But that didn’t mean that their journey was easy. Dark shadows come from every direction. Even with Remus and Mad-eye guarding them, they still have to cast countless curses themselves. She even had to try a few spells she’s read from the grimoire. There are just too many of them.

“Confringo!” she casts, bursting a handful of the Death Eaters.

“Brilliant, love!”

George’s happy cheer did not last for a whole minute as another Death Eater aimed at him, casting a jinx. He could feel the curse run through his body but he could feel no pain. It only felt like a slight shiver you feel when a cold wind blows. He casts another spell back to the Death Eater, causing the dark shadow to fall off the sky.

But the dark shadow wasn’t the only one falling.

George didn’t know what happened. Maybe another Death Eater has aimed her as he was too caught up with his own duel. What he only knows is her limping body, falling off her broom as gravity pulls her.

He calls for her name as he leaps down, trying to reach for her. George has never realised how short his arms are until now. He tries to stretch as far as he could, trying to grab her jumper.

“I’ve got you.” He says with teary eyes as he finally grabs her, putting her on top of his broom. Her body was shaking violently, making it hard for him to navigate the broom. Her skin was ice cold, mouth agape. Something is terribly wrong and George doesn’t know why “I’ve got you, Love. Stay with me.”

----

“Ginny!” George yells as he finally reaches the Burrow “Mum! Anyone, please!”

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley scrambles out of the hut with Harry and Hagrid follow from behind, looking as horrified as the women. George was frantic. She was still trembling in his arms. Her skin looks pale with dark spots visible on her skin, especially under her eyes and the tips of her fingers.

George carries her inside, laying her gently on the sofa as Mrs. Weasley tries to tend her. Not long after, Remus barges in. He runs to her body, checking her skin with the very same terrified look plastered.

“What’s going on?” George asks, his voice quivering in fear “She- She fell off her broom and when I caught her she’s already shaking like this.”

“Molly, quick, I need some wolfsbane and hellebore. If you happen to have any drops of Unicorn blood please bring it too.” Remus says as examines her face, the dark spots are spreading wider “Ginny, help your Mum and find me the Wiggenweld Potion. I’m unsure it would work for such dark magic like this but at least it could ease her a little.”

George stands at the side. His tears were flowing uncontrollably, breathing hitches as he watched her struggle. He didn’t know what went wrong. Sure he looked away from her for a moment, but she wasn’t cursed. There was no other Death Eater but the one who aimed at him. She should be fine.

“What happened to her?” he asks, trying to get some sense.

“Dark magic.” Remus said as he tried to remedy her with his spells.

“A curse?” Harry asks “What kind of curse?”

“Not a curse. A ritual.”

George’s brows furrow, even more confused now, “Ritual?”

“You were casted with a life threatening curse, George.” Remus said, turning at him for a brief moment before tending her back “You could’ve died from the curse that Death Eater aimed at you, but instead- Instead, you were fine because she did a binding ritual on your life.”

“W-What?”

“This will not do. We have to bring her to the room upstairs and cleanse her there.” Remus says as he looks at her deteriorating condition “Molly, I need the wolfsbane!”

George was frozen on his spot as Remus carried her upstairs. He has never heard of a life binding ritual before, but it doesn’t take a lot for one to put the pieces together. She bound her soul on him, as a means of protection and now instead of him, she has to be the one to suffer from the curse.

He finds himself lifelessly slumping on the sofa she lied on before. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be breathing.

Hermione and Kingsley finally arrive, followed by Bill and Fleur. They all have a horrified look on their faces and as if it was even possible, looked even more demented as they see the state George is in. Ron, Fred, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley came not long after. Fred, noticing the terrorised look on his twin’s face, quickly runs and pulls him to a hug.

“What happened?” Fred asks.

But before George could utter a word, a loud piercing wail came from the room upstairs. George peels his twin’s hands off and quickly runs to the stairs before meeting Ginny who blocked his way. Her expression was hard, beads of sweat layering her skin.

“I don’t think it would be best for you to go up there, George. Remus’ order.” Ginny says, trying to make sense to her brother before turning to Tonks “Remus calls for you.”

Tonks nod, finding her way up the stairs.

“I need to see her.” George says with a volume barely above a whisper.

“Not now, George.” Ginny repeats, looking at her brother with a pitiful look “Let Remus and Mum heal her.”

“They’re not healing her if she’s wailing like that!” George yells, her screams were too hard for him to bear “Please, Gin.”

Ginny shakes her head, “I’m sorry, George.”

Fred tries to reach for him and pulls him into another hug.

George had never felt more useless in his entire life than now. He wishes that this was all a nightmaric dream he’s having and when he opens his eyes, he would find her, sleeping right by his side safe and sound. Just like every other morning before he has to sneak out of her room so not to be found by his mother.

But this was all too real for his liking. She’s very much fighting for her life upstairs. The loud painful screams echoing through the wooden floors are the very evidence. Her cries are aching him to the bone. How he wishes he could replace her instead.

----

The shadows under his eyes were more visible as days passed. Everytime he closes his eyes, the memory of her falling off her broom, how her body was shaking violently in his arms, the never ending howls of her pain that night haunt him. And so George tries his best to keep his eyes open, just in case she opens her eyes.

He wouldn’t want anyone else to be the first to see her.

It has been one and a half weeks since that tormentful night. Mrs. Weasley has let George stay in her room, given the circumstances. She has looked more alive now, mumbling a few words as she drifts in and out of her slumber. Remus gave her a strong sleeping potion so her body could heal faster. And through these small windows of her consciousness, George was always there to give her comforting words. Letting her know that he’s there, waiting for her.

Remus said that it was one of the nastiest binding curses he has ever come across. Her spell was powerful. Whatever it was that she’d done, it was certainly well crafted that she needed a whole pint of Unicorn blood to flush the jinx out of her system. But even with the purest blood of the purest creature, dark magic as powerful as a binding curse will always leave a mark.

Her fingers twitch lightly as her eyes slowly open. George’s touch on her hand was firmer, letting her know that he’s there. Her mumbling was louder and clearer, perhaps now ready to finally wake up from her long tiring slumber.

“Hello, Love.” George greets, eyes watering as he stares at the eyes he so much misses about “I’m here.”

She squints her eyes, trying to adjust her pupils to the brightness. Her smile was growing as she could finally focus on the familiar face, “Hello, George.”

“Hi.” He replies, sniffling in relieved happiness “I am so glad you’re alright.”

George pulls her into a gentle hug. His tears were bursting as he felt her warmth, embracing him back. He misses her dearly. Days of worry and ponders have finally come to an end. He places her hands on her cheeks, lightly caressing the dark mark that was subsiding under her eyes. Gently, he kisses her temple.

She smiles at the kind gesture. Her eyebrows were raised as she looked down at her hands. There were dark marks, stemming from the tips of her fingers, up to her forearm. The black lines were thinner as it went up, looking like black roots.

“Yeah, that.” George says sadly as he notices her gaze “Remus said he’s trying to find a way to fix them, but he said black magic will always leave trails so let’s not put all of our galleons in one pot.”

“So I’ve got tattoos now?” She asks, sounding rather excited “Wicked.”

George, not joining her excitement, stood from his seat. His back is facing her now as he looks to the window. She wanted to give herself a loud slap across the face for making such commentary. George must’ve still been in shock. Understandably so.

“George-”

“Why did you do it?” he asks, now feeling the pent up anger and disappointment erupting “You could’ve killed yourself, do you know that?”

“I know, I just-”

“Then why did you do it?!” George yells, the veins on his neck were visible “Do you know how in hell I was ever since that night? I had to see you struggle to breath, hear you wail in pain for countless nights. Did you think I would have wanted any of it?!”

“George, I’m sorry.” she pleas, looking on the verge of tears “I just thought that- I couldn’t lose you. I just wanted to make sure that you’ll be alright.”

“By sacrificing yourself?! Did you think that I would be grateful if you were to die for me?! Did you really think for a split second that I would be fine if you died?!”

Her tears were falling. She never intended for things to come to this. She knew he wouldn’t have agreed to such a ritual. It was reckless of her to do it, but on that night when she realises the real danger approaching, she couldn’t risk gambling his safety. His life is much more valuable than hers.

“I never meant for things to be like this, George. I only did what I thought was best for us.”

“For us?! You really think binding your soul to mine was what was best for us?!” George yells in despair, his eyes red from threatening tears “I had to watch you fight for your life. You were on the brink of life and you thought that was what’s best for us?!”

“You would've done it for me, wouldn’t you? If the roles were reversed, if you knew how to, you would’ve bound your soul to mine, wouldn’t you?”

George stares at her in pain. What she asked of him was true. If the roles were reversed, he would’ve spent no other second to jump on the ritual. He loves her too much to ever see her get hurt. He couldn’t lose her.

The same way she couldn’t lose him.

“I’m sorry.” She says in a weak tone, sniffling through her tears “I am so so sorry. I never wanted to make you worry. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.”

George runs at her, pulling her to a tight embrace. He fears losing her. More than he fears death itself. His cry was loud as his body trembled in bursting emotions. He was vulnerable.

“I almost lost you.” He said with so much pain evident in his tone “My Mum.. My Mum couldn’t find enough Unicorn blood for you and the wolfsbane didn’t work. Remus tried everything but you- You were still cold as ice. I thought I'd lost you.”

She wraps her hands tighter around his neck, showing him that she’s very much there.

“Don’t die for me, please.” George cries, his hiccups more uncontrollable “Don’t die. Just stay here with me. Live for me, laugh with me. I don’t ever want to see you get hurt again, please promise me.”

She nods, crying with him, “I promise.”

George pulls away from the hug for a brief moment, planting a kiss to her forehead before pulling her close to his chest. Words cannot describe the love he holds for her. She is the gravity to his very world. Without her it would only be a dark cold void, waiting to drown him deeper to his depression. He needs her.

He takes one of her hands, looking at the dark marking, “Those are some sick markings, I must admit.”

She chuckles, nodding in agreement.

George kisses her fingertips softly, showing the deep devotion he has for her.

And in that moment, both of them realises that it wasn’t about who’d die for who. It wasn’t about who loves the other more. They love each other, more than they could ever convey. So instead of fighting for each other by dying, they silently agreed to fight to live for each other, no matter how cold the darkness is approaching. So long as they have each other, they’re sure to come out of it well and alive.

[havin-a-wee]

Dreamer

warnings: smut, thigh riding

word count: 1.7k

His sleepy eyes opened at a slow pace, his eyelids falling back down at each attempt to open them. He persisted however until his eyelids stayed open and the blurriness of his vision cleared up. He was quite surprised at himself for being so adamant about waking up, but something in his subconscious was telling him that he needed to be awake.

A hushed groan slipped out of his pink lips, the warm air from his mouth hitting the tiny strands of facial hair that he hadn’t gotten around to shaving. As the sound of his groan died out, a small whimper echoed through the dark room.

His eyelids snapped open, no longer heavy. Although it took him another few seconds, this new wave of awareness allowed him to decipher the reason he had woken up from his deep slumber in the first place.

The source of the whimper was obvious now. It was his best friend Y/N, with whom he had been cuddling when he fell asleep.

Y/N and Harry were the closest two people could be without being in a relationship. They spent almost every waking and sleeping second with each other, and they knew one another like the back of their hand. Harry sometimes thought that he may know Y/N better than himself. Of course, with a friendship like that people thought they were dating, especially the media. But they always denied it, of course, assuring people that they were just friends. Only friends.

Only friends that were both in love with each other but too scared to say it because they are afraid to ruin the friendship.

You know, regular best friend things.

As Harry’s brain fluttered out of the hazy state it was in, he realized what was going on, and why Y/N’s mouth was dropped open, her lips glistening from the moisture of her own saliva.

He snaked his hands under the covers to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t.

Y/N’s legs were actually wrapped around his muscular thigh, and her hips were rolling on top of it as soft mewls escaped her small lips. The shock of it all rattled through his body and he blinked his eyes harshly in disbelief, just taking an extra precaution to ensure that he most definitely was not dreaming.

His darling girl was grinding her hips against his thigh in her sleep.

She must have been having some sort of wet dream, and Harry internally prayed that she was dreaming about him. It was a bit of an awkward situation because he didn’t want her to stop, but he felt weird just lying there until she finished.

His cock was already painfully hard in his boxers, and he cursed himself for choosing the pair with thin fabric.

Harry had dreamed about this happening many times, but now that it was he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He kept his eyes locked on her face, eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed, as he felt the thin lace of her panties rolling against his thigh.

The plan was to avoid touching her, to save her from any unnecessary embarrassment she might feel. But a particularly arousing whimper poured from her lips, and Harry couldn’t help himself anymore. He lifted his hand and caressed her soft cheek, a little shock leaving a slight tinge of pain on his fingertips. She clearly felt it as well because her bright eyes fluttered open quickly in response.

Her eyes darted around for a moment until she suddenly stopped the movement of her hips. Her teeth sank down on her wet bottom lip and her eyes met Harry’s, welling with embarrassment.

“Harry I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

He could sense the fear and embarrassment in her face, so he made an adrenaline-induced decision to cut off her rambling by placing his finger gently on her lips.

“Shhh s’ok love, keep going.” His hands touched around beneath the blanket until they met her hip bones.

The encouragement from Harry convinced her to keep seeking her release, albeit hesitantly. But once she found her rhythm again the large hands on her hips moved with her, pushing her down onto his thigh. He assisted her movements, assuring that her clit rubbed harshly against his thigh each time. She clenched her eyelids shut again, relishing in the euphoric feeling that was running through her veins.

Harry could tell she was close as her grinding became more frenzied and needy, curses and moans spewing from her lips.

“I’m close Harry” Her words were slurred and incoherent, but they just motivated Harry even more.

“C’mon baby, finish on my thigh.”

Within seconds she reached her release, white spots clouding her vision. He rode her through her orgasm, slowing his movements until fully coming to a stop.

Watching her face as she came down made Harry think he might just cum in his boxers.

They both inhaled a big breath before sighing it out, her eyes closed in bliss and his glued on her. When she finally looked at him, he was a bit red in the face, his gaze searing with lust. She watched them trail down to stare at her lips, and in a moment of confidence she blurted out.

“Kiss me, Harry. Please.”

He needed nothing more. Their soft lips met and they melted against each other, scratching the itch that they both had developed for one another. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she accepted it gratefully, taking the opportunity to tug on his bottom lip with her teeth.

He growled at the sensation, sending vibrations through Y/N’s mouth. In one swift motion, Harry had Y/N on her back and he was on top of her. Their lips fit so well together, almost as if they were made to be together.

Although he never wanted the kiss to end, he needed to know that she was alright, and what she wanted to happen. He pulled his lips away from a kiss, eliciting a small groan from Y/N.

“I need to know what y’want Y/N” He stared down at her dilated pupils and swollen lips.

“I want your cock Harry, I want it so bad.” She writhed underneath him, her body aching for another release. He chuckled at her needy response, even though he needed just as much as she did.

“Are you sure?” She nodded frantically. “Do you have any condoms?”

She shook her head. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean.”

“I am too.”

“Can we do it without a condom? I wanna feel you.” She bit her lip in anticipation of his response.

“Fuck..” he muttered under his breath. He ripped the blanket away from her body, revealing her exposed breasts and black lace panties. He had never been so grateful that both of them preferred to sleep naked, and that they were comfortable enough around each other to do it.

He reached for her nipple, squeezing and tugging on it slightly before bringing his attention to her bottom half. Her legs were clenched together tightly, but Harry pried them apart, tugging of the panties that covered her core. He sat up on his knees and looked at her for a moment. She is the most gorgeous person in the entire world to him, and he was in disbelief that she was actually lying naked in front of him.

“Harryyy” Her whines pulled him out of his trance, and he made quick work peeling the thin boxers off of his body. His cock sprung free and he pumped himself a few times before moving back to being on top of her.

“Y’ready darling?” She nodded and made eye contact with him, assuring him that she wanted this.

He ran his tip through her folds, collected the moisture that was pooling in her core. Lining himself up with her entrance, he slipped himself in, shouting curses along with her.

“God baby y’so bloody tight, such a good girl f’me”

“All for you Harry, I’m all yours” He let out a gutted moan at her words, and finally began to move. He pulled himself all the way out of her then thrust right back in.

“Fuck Harry!” Both of them were on a different plane of existence, the pleasure they were feeling was immeasurable. He found a steady pace as he rammed into her. The pad of his thumb found her swollen clit and began rubbing quick circles on it. She arched her back at his attack on her bundle of nerves and she let out a string of curses and moans.

“So good Harry, keep going” she rasped. Her words fueled his ego and he picked up the pace, determined to make her feel good.

“Such a good girl fo me, such a pretty little cunt.”

The sounds of their bodies collided filled the room, and both of them lost themselves in the immense sensations that were wracking through their bodies. After a few more thrusts, Harry felt her clench around him and he knew she was close to reaching her second climax.

“Come f’me darlin, wanna feel y’come on my cock” And with that she was climaxing, the knot in her stomach fell apart and the wave of pleasure flowed through her fucked out body.

His climax came only a few thrusts later, white ropes of cum painting her walls. They eased each other out of their orgasms, both of them red in the face. Harry slipped out of her core and plopped down next to her on the bed, both of them just staring at the ceiling, attempting to process what had just happened.

He turned his face to hers, something that she had already done. They stared at each other in their post-orgasmic states, neither of them knowing what to do next. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N quickly hushed him. “Let’s just enjoy this right now. I just wanna be next to you.”

He smiled at her and she returned it, grabbing his waist and pulling herself into his chest.

They both drifted off to sleep, just like they had earlier that night. But this time was different because they both knew that their feelings were reciprocated, even if they hadn’t verbally expressed it.

But that was enough for both of them.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 1: The Sun God

Doctor Who : Multishot

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 6756

Warnings: There are descriptions of burns and burn victims. Also some talk of drug addiction

Request: This is just from my own head 😊 ​

A/N: One step closer to understanding what’s ailing the reader... meanwhile *lovestruck sigh* the bickering and flirting between the reader and the Doctor is ✨giving me life✨

Prologue: The Dying Girl

Part 1: The Sun God {You Are Here}

Part 2: The Tonic

Part 3: The Ending Song

Life with the Doctor went by in a blur of rescued planets, saved species, and TARDIS accidents. The hospital visit planned so many months ago was long forgotten.

(Y/N) and the Doctor were simply swept away with adventure after adventure. After partaking the famed gouda of the moon and dancing the night away in the Blankar System, their companionship became less of a requirement and more of a favorite pastime.

There was still the looming mystery of (Y/N)’s alien tainted particle trail and the Reapers around every corner. But the pair of them found themselves rather enjoying spending their time exploring rather than hunting.

And the longer she spent on the TARDIS, the harder it became accepting she should go home at some point. It had been months. Months: and thoughts of her fiancé were knocking at the door in the back of her mind.

“This way!” The Doctor grabbed her hand and started to run. They were always running.

Though this time she was feeling a bit winded.

“You shouldn’t have pointed out their sham,” she laughed, disregarding the angry human mob behind them.

“Well, they shouldn’t have tried to scam the money off of you. The way they were groveling you, trying to pick your pocket – honestly.”

She gave him a silent look of admiration and scolded herself. “Could you have parked the TARDIS any farther!” There was a burning tickling her lungs – she didn’t normally get this fatigued so quickly.

The Doctor scoffed, gripping her hand tighter and spotting their blue box ahead, “Running’s good for the heart, (Y/N). And what with you only having one of those, I’ve got to keep your cardiovascular system in shape.”

They slammed into the TARDIS doors. Locked.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” (Y/N) said, leaning into the box heavily, “Shouldn’t it open at your command?”

“Oh hush,” he snipped, “Extra precautions aren’t a crime.”

The mob scrambled closer, finding them stationary at the end of the street. (Y/N) nudged the Doctor’s elbow, “If they aren’t a crime then why is our punishment on its way?” The Doctor fiddled with his silver key.

“Don’t rush me.”

“We don’t exactly have the time, Doctor.”

“You’re less fun when you’re grumpy.”

“I’ll be grumpier if we’re on the end of those pitchforks!”

The doors swung open as the mob roared. (Y/N) and the Doctor entered and felt as the humans pounded against the police box outside. Their torches could be seen ablaze through the window.

The Doctor didn’t hesitate to jump to the controls and put the TARDIS in an orbit while (Y/N) tried to catch her breath.

Her lungs were still burning, a stitch in her side. It felt like there was a pulse entering her brain, so loud it drowned anything else out. She didn’t feel good. Really didn’t feel good.

“That was a close one.”

She laughed, though her face pinched into a wince, “No thanks to you.”

“Like I said, if only they had kept their grubby hands off of you… (Y/N)?”

She was holding her head with both her hands, her face going slack. Her knees shook as she felt a comforting pressure on both her shoulders, “I feel a bit faint.”

It was the Doctor holding her steady, “You look it. What happened?” And as her knees buckled, he caught her smoothly, wrapping his arms around her. “Woah, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Did something hit you?”

(Y/N) sighed, her head reeling – she couldn’t open her eyes; the light was so bright now. “I – I don’t know. I don’t think so. We just started running and I couldn’t breathe.”

The Doctor looked at her with bewilderment, but with her eyes closed, he snuck some fear into the gaze. “Well, up you get. Lets get you to your room.” With his arm slung around her, they sloppily made it to the ladder lowered beneath the grates.

“I’m finding the lack of stairs here very inconvenient,” she joked, practically falling into the Doctor’s arms at the bottom of the ladder.

He smiled though his brow was tense, “I’ll keep that in mind when I do renovations.”

(Y/N) was dragging her feet by the time they entered her bedroom. It was quite a bit different since she first moved in. After a few shopping trips and cleaning sprees, it was positively habitable. At least that’s what the Doctor called it.

He gently laid her on the bed and went to pull off her sneakers, “I’ll get you some water. Maybe you’re just coming down with something.”

“I never get sick, remember.” She had a hand over her eyes.

The Doctor pulled the sheets to her chin and gave such an intense look of concern he knew she’d make fun of him if she saw. But that was always the Doctor’s way. He waited for when she wasn’t looking.

“You also are adjusting to a new lifestyle,” he muttered, noticing the TARDIS lowering the brightness of the lights. “Maybe you’ve finally hit a wall.” When he turned to give her time to rest, she raised her voice.

“Don’t go,” she called, regretting how it made her head pound, “I hate it when you leave me alone. I know you’re off having more fun without me.”

He grinned, a feeling of elation and triumph centering in his chest. He scolded himself.

“I know you’re not used to the sickbed, but usually this is when the ill rest.”

“I thought we just agreed I’m not ill.”

“You are fatigued.”

“And see how you didn’t use the word ill?”

He sighed out that easy smile that came whenever she bickered with him. He ran a hand over his face and returned to her bedside, “You’re growing as stubborn as me.”

“You know I fall asleep faster when you tell me stories.”

“Oh, great. Thanks,” he laughed, choosing one of the comfy reading chairs (Y/N) furnished her room with – he pulled it closer to the bed.

She smirked, settling into the covers, “You know what I mean. They’re not boring… they’re soothing.”

“You just like hearing me talk,” he cheekily intertwined his fingers before him, “Besides, I shouldn’t be disturbing your rest.”

“Then why have you pulled up a chair?”

He observed that her eyes were still closed, though her brow was no longer pinched in pain. “Maybe I’m just making sure you don’t sneak out of bed before you’re properly feeling better.”

“Nah – you’re just in denial.”

The Doctor felt his joints freeze into place. It took a few moments for him to ensure his voice was steady, “Denial?”

She fisted the sheets and tucked them under her chin, it was ridiculously adorable. “You won’t admit we’ve become friends despite our agreement when we first met. You care about me more than just someone who has a mystery about them.”

Did she think because she had a ring on her finger she could toy with him like this?

“I thought I didn’t need to say it aloud, (Y/N).” He stared at her serene face, propping an elbow on the armrest of the chair. He put a finger to his chin, “Did you believe I didn’t think that?”

“Oh, I knew you cared from the moment Jack offered to take me dancing.” If her head weren’t about to explode, she might have burst into a round of giggles.

The Doctor held back a frustrated groan at the memory, “I was only looking out for you – Jack can be…”

“A catch?”

He paused, staring at her with more longing than he ever allowed himself, “A dog.”

She grinned but winced. Almost instinctually the Doctor leaned over from his seat and rested an arm on the mattress.

“You okay?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, attempting to relax her face. “Tell me about Shakespeare again. Did he really have a full head of hair?”

The Doctor made sure her eyes were still closed as he lightly grazed a few fingers along her hairline, “He also was a terrible flirt.” He pushed the strands of hair away from her face.

“Bet Martha didn’t mind.”

“She said he had bad breath.”

“Then tell me about the mannequins – that one always gives me the creeps.” She felt her heart stutter as he continued to lean against her mattress. “Or maybe the TVs that sucked your faces off!”

He hummed, a deep sound from his chest, “Those stories won’t help you sleep.”

There was a moment of silence as (Y/N) simply took in the calming presence of him. One of the first things the Doctor promised her upon meeting was that he would keep her safe. And she felt it. She was safe with him.

“Tell me about the orange sky then.”

His chest ached. He knew exactly what she was asking for.

“The silver trees and the red grass,” she muttered, snuggling into her pillow, “Remind me how many times you failed your school exams.”

The Doctor chuckled, that ache threading up and making his throat dry, “All right.” He couldn’t help himself; he moved a hand and cupped her cheek. The same one he held when she woke from her coma.

~~~

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

The usual comfort of her favorite watch wasn’t coming to her this time. She was staring intently at her engagement ring. Pulled off her finger and held to the light, it glittered mockingly.

Months, she reminded herself, months she had been away from home. Didn’t she care about how Andy was doing at all?

Of course she did.

But did she care enough to run home to him and plan that wedding and live the rest of her life as a primary school teacher married to a nurse?

Apparently not.

But why was that? As she stared at the ring, she didn’t feel what she ought to have been. She should feel as though she were engaged to the man of her dreams, anxious and excited to be married. The thought of him should give her butterflies. The sound of his voice should make her heart skip.

Why wasn’t she feeling that anymore?

The Doctor.

No, it couldn’t be. She was losing those feelings long before the Doctor pulled her from her classroom.

Great – now her thoughts were settling on the Doctor. That brown eyed beauty. Did he know how conflicted he was making her feel? The wonderful bastard.

She peered at the engagement ring for a while longer, wondering how she was going to tell Andrew that she was having second thoughts. That there was a reason she was so willing to abandon her earth life and run away with an alien man in a time machine.

She wasn’t in love with him anymore.

A sudden flash of memory fought for room in her head: the Doctor brushing her hair away, gently tucking her in and whispering the story of his home planet. Of Gallifrey beneath the burnt orange sky.

She shook her head. If she were to make a bulleted list of things to know about the Doctor, it would start with:

1.      Stay near him; he’ll know what to do

2.      He will keep you safe

3.      He is incredibly and impossibly alone

4.      He cannot share a life with someone he could lose

No, that’s not quite right. The Doctor cannot allow himself to share a life. Every time he does he gets hurt. Hundreds of years of hurt that she couldn’t possibly understand. He told her in strict confidence about some of his old friends he’d lost.

She couldn’t insinuate, couldn’t encourage, being anything more than friends and companions.

She could handle suppressed feelings when the Doctor had been suffering for the majority of his long life.

Besides – she was an engaged woman.

A sudden bout of boredom overcame her. A sensation so powerful and unexpected that she hopped off the bed and began to pace her room. It reminded her dolefully of the Doctor. He was always on his toes, brimmed with impatience and boredom, looking for the next adventure without any proper sleep. Perhaps she was becoming more like him.

She felt immensely better after her fatigue spell. She might as well go find him on the main level.

And there he was tinkering with some wires at the console. “Good morning.”

He grinned, seeking her face immediately, “Hello!” A spark of the wires and a yelp from his lips made her laugh.

“Lets go out.”

The Doctor sucked a burnt finger, but stared at her with a furrowed brow, “You what?”

“I’m bored!”

He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised, “How are you feeling?” He came around the console and approached her sulking figure. “Does your head still hurt?”

She smacked away his hands, “I feel fine. I feel bored. Can we go somewhere exciting?”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m not fainting, am I?”

“You could be lying.”

“Since when have you refused to go exploring with me?”

“Since you’ve taken ill and, as your physician, I can’t condone behavior that could make you more ill.”

She put her hands on her hips, “I am not ill!”

His cheeky grin grew, “(Y/N) …”

“Fine!” She threw her hands in the air and made her way towards the innumerable buttons and levers. “I’ll find a place myself.” She started typing on the keypad and twisting a few knobs – the TARDIS immediately responded with a plume of steam and a flurry of flashing lights.

“Woah now!” The Doctor flew over, turning a few things and setting the ship right, “There’s no need to spring a mutiny.” He rounded on her, less kindness in his tone than he’d shown her the past night. But the pleading look on her face had his lungs constricting.

“Please.”

He pondered her expression for a few moments, eyes flickering about her figure to ensure she wasn’t swaying on her feet. As he usually did, he went to stare at the ring on her finger. A painful ritual he caught himself doing regularly.

But the ring wasn’t there.

What had she done?

“All right.” Perhaps she needed to get out of the ship for a while. “I’ve got a planet in mind you’ll find interesting. I haven’t visited in a long time.” He set the course and pulled the lever to start the engines.

(Y/N) beamed, wrapping her arms around his middle from behind. He stiffened. She didn’t notice.

“Thank you, Doctor.” She went to brace herself against the railing and the Doctor cleared his throat.

“It’s called Axiless the First. As you can imagine, the planet is axis – less. It doesn’t spin like many planets do in solar systems. It doesn’t move near as fast because it’s so stationary. That means the day and night cycles last about six months. And the magnetic field that’s usually created from planetary motion, doesn’t exist so there’s no field shielding the planet from UV rays. They have to use sun shields just to go outside!”

The TARDIS bumped to a stop and the Doctor pulled out some shades from a compartment in the center console, “It’s a small colony of people as they do have to live on mid-latitude areas, but it’s fascinating seeing a motionless planet. Imagine if the Earth stopped moving – your oceans would flood the continents.”

He tossed a pair of sunglasses her way. She slid them on with ease, “How do I look?”

It surprised him the amount of heat that crept up his neck. “Uh, f-fine. Suits you.”

She punched his arm playfully, “Come on then.” She bounced towards the doors and missed how the Doctor moved his hand to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. He pinched himself.

The doors opened and a gust of hot air swarmed the ship.

The planet looked desolate, a desert of sand and rock. A few bare shrubs were scattered amongst the yellowed stones. There were even a few trees, though their branches were needlelike, and they provided little to no shade.

Sunlight was bathing everything in a harsh glow, it almost looked like waves were radiating off the sand. (Y/N) was slightly afraid to step on it for fear of burning the soles of her shoes. She had her sunglasses on, but she couldn’t help but shade her face with her hands.

“Bit hot, isn’t it?”

The Doctor stood beside her, blowing out his cheeks, “Must’ve landed in the middle of a day cycle. There was a fifty-fifty chance of hitting day or night. These glasses can be used in either cycle – day they’re sunglasses, night they’re night vision goggles.” He groaned, slipping out of his coat and throwing it into the TARDIS, “It’s hotter than I remember it being.”

“You don’t have a Hawaiian shirt in there somewhere?” (Y/N) laughed, stumbling as her feet shifted in the sand. “Surely you wear something more than those two suits.”

“I’ve got a dozen dress shirts and ties.” He started rolling up his sleeves, squinting despite having shades on. “Don’t you go bickering on about my outfits. Why is it hotter than before? The planet moves around their suns so it’s not like the sun has gotten closer and raised the temperature. Like I said before, it’s meant to be warmer than usual, the planet doesn’t spin. They have to keep the sun shields up to keep the harmful ultraviolet rays at bay, otherwise everyone here would burn.”

He started paving the way towards a sand dune; (Y/N) followed closely, feeling her feet heat up with how hot the ground was. “Are you telling me we’ve stumbled upon another doomed planet? What are the odds?”

She laughed but the Doctor ignored her. “The only way the planet could be heating up is if the UV rays have reached the surface. Like a microwave the sun is cooking the planet. Which means there’s nothing stopping the sun. Which means…” he put a hand through his hair, “The sun shields aren’t up and working.”

(Y/N) faltered, stopping at the top of the dune and catching her breath, “I don’t fancy being roasted alive, Doctor.” Below them was a small village, one made of glass and metal. “Do you suppose they know they’re living on a microwave?”

The Doctor wiped the growing sweat on his forehead. “Let’s go find out.”

The colony was little but were awed and welcoming at the presence of (Y/N) and the Doctor. It was impossible, in their eyes, for visitors to want to see their scorching planet. They were directed towards the people in charge, a race of humanoid beings; their eyes were a startling purple, and they had no hair. Intricate and beautiful floral patterns painted their skin and bald heads.

The smartly built huts were just as humid and stuffy on the inside as it was out in the sand. But they were grateful for the shade.

“I’m the Doctor and this is (Y/N),” the Doctor introduced, removing his shades, “We’ve come for a visit and couldn’t help but notice you’re… well, roasting.”

One of the humanoid aliens bowed, “You are correct. Our suns are infiltrating the shields. We’ve been suffering in this heat, unable to do anything.”

“What’s your name?” The Doctor asked, making his way towards a compartment of computers and scientific equipment.

The humanoid appeared to trust him near the technology. “I am Peony. This is my companion, Iris.”

“Like the flowers?” (Y/N) asked, eyeing their floral tattoos. “They’re very pretty names.”

“Yes, we’ve been compared before,” the other called Iris stated, “But the only correlation is that we are born of the ground. We’re planted seeds in a garden and sprout into being.”

(Y/N) gave them an appraising look, “Your babies are grown in the ground?”

“They’re a solitary species, (Y/N),” The Doctor called over his shoulder, “They don’t understand physical touch or procreation like you do.”

“There is no need for such intimacy,” Peony said. And (Y/N) could see how there was a purposeful distance between the two humanoids.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. I’d miss the cuddles.”

“Right then,” the Doctor shouted, “What did you mean the suns are infiltrating your shields? They’re only comprised of hydrogen and helium, only hot plasma that reacts to nuclear fusion. It’s not capable of motives like infiltration. That would mean they’d have consciousness.”

Peony and Iris shared a purple-eyed look before stating, “We believe there’s more to it then that.”

“You believe your suns are alive? Like actual beings?” (Y/N) asked, feeling the back of her shirt stick with sweat. “How is that possible?”

The Doctor peered at the information before him, screens that monitored the strength of the sun shields, “There are beings out there that we don’t fully understand. Gargantuan, God-like beings that are too powerful to observe and communicate with. I wouldn’t believe it – only…” He put a finger to his chin, “This chart here shows UV rays behaving like soldiers.”

Iris nodded, walking towards him, “You see them beating against the shield. They’re using physical force.”

“Like the arms of an octopus, they’re reaching out and tapping on the door,” the Doctor muttered, “Right, okay then. What’s the plan?”

A haziness enveloped (Y/N)’s eyes. Oh, no, not this again. She closed her eyes and tried to stay upright, taking deep breaths. She had felt perfectly fine that morning. Must’ve been the blasted heat.

Heat exhaustion. That’s all it was. (Y/N) didn’t get sick – has never been sick.

“We’ve been working on the theory to get the planet spinning again,” Iris stated, “It would create a powerful magnetic field and shield us permanently.”

“What? No. No! You can’t,” the Doctor said, “Making the planet spin would bring disaster to the surface, you will more than likely kill everything trying to survive here. Besides, you’ve got to have a core…”

“Our core is metallic,” Peony interrupted, “And planetary motion will help it create that magnetic field.”

The Doctor was getting that crazed look about him, one that normally pushed him to do rather crazed things. “But don’t you realize when your planet begins to spin again, whether instantaneous or gradual, everything will change. Tsunamis, earthquakes, volcanos, natural disasters everywhere! The planet surface will slide with the speed, bodies of water will be forced onto land, and plant life will be unable to cope.”

Peony looked at him as if they’d heard such an argument before. “It will also bring balance to the thinning air. We won’t have to only live in certain areas of the planet to breathe. We wouldn’t have to adjust to six month day cycles. And we wouldn’t have to worry about the sun. We are running out of options, Doctor.”

“We are dying either way,” Iris said, “It’s only a matter of which gets us first.”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked.

(Y/N) was leaning heavily against the wall paneling. It was a good thing the Doctor had something to occupy his mind.

“It’s either falling into natural disaster or burning from the sun.”

“There must be another way. Strengthen the shields again,” the Doctor muttered.

Iris waved a hand over to a staircase, one that went underground. “Follow me.”

“It’s no good,” Peony said, “We’ve been exposed to these rays for too long. We thought them simply ultraviolet, but that’s false. These suns are living beings and living beneath them has filled us with toxicity.”

“How’d you mean?” They continued down the stairs, (Y/N) still feeling woozy but appreciating the miniscule temperature drop.

They made it to a doorless room that held a wide window. It looked on at what could only be described as a burn clinic.

“What is this?” The Doctor continued questioning.

The longer (Y/N) looked, the more afraid she became. Numerous of the planet’s species were laying there, each to their own cot. And every one of them was covered in harsh, angry red burns. It looked incredibly painful.

Others in yellow hazmat suits were walking around and applying ointment, taking temperatures, and wiping foreheads. A few of the affected people were writhing in their beds, going mad with the heat. They had to be held down.

“It’s a sickness,” the Doctor whispered, mostly to himself.

“No, they’re just sun burnt,” (Y/N) said with an air of desperation, “Nothing some aloe vera can’t fix.”

“You forget we aren’t dealing with a regular sun,” Peony muttered, “Those are not burns from exposure, they’re from a plague.”

The Doctor leaned against the window, taking in the scene, “You’re dying either way. Sun shields won’t stop them because they aren’t only suns. They have motives and biology and warfare.”

(Y/N) felt her knees shake, unable to tear her eyes away from the camp of victims. It was like a horrific car accident – you couldn’t look away. “Are we safe?”

“You haven’t been exposed that long,” Iris said, “We’ve been living here our whole lives.”

“You only have to worry about those already showing symptoms,” Peony went on, “Don’t go near someone with the plague.”

The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face frustratingly. He was deep in thought, (Y/N) knew, he needed to think of a solution. Because he was brilliant. Because he was the Doctor. And he couldn’t turn away.

“What if we manufacture a magnetic field,” he banged a hand against his forehead, “We don’t have to shield the entire planet, only the parts people can survive in. Oh, my head! We’d need to mine enough metal and charge it with positive and negative energy. But a system could be built where that’s magnified to a specific area.”

Iris and Peony were sharing a silent look again, “That is a possibility we had not thought of.”

“We were busy thinking of the entire planets safety.”

The Doctor suddenly grinned, “But the entire planet isn’t habitable. Only parts. And we can secure those parts. I know I can build it - do you have the metal to wield it?”

“We have a metallic core, Doctor,” Peony smiled, “How else do you think we built these structures?”

Hello, (Y/N).

“What?” (Y/N) looked around, not recognizing the voice that addressed her.

The Doctor faced her, “Sorry?” He was still grinning from his brilliance.

“I thought…” she paused, very conscious of the sweat falling down the side of her face. “Nothing, I thought I heard something.”

You did.

“Right, lead the way,” the Doctor said, gesturing towards the staircase, “And while we’re at it, maybe I’ll find some revolutionary antibiotics for your patients.”

Your head is strange. Very dark. Very empty. What is hidden behind this steel door?

“What is that?” she questioned but realized that she was now alone in the small, windowed room. “Hello?”

Hello. How do you stand having so much hidden in your head?

“Where are you?”

I’m here. Inside you.

“Very funny,” she wheezed. Her breath left her, much like the night before. “Who are you?”

Ancient. Ancient like your Doctor. You’ve got quite the thought train dedicated to him, haven’t you?

“What are you called then.” Panic. She mustn’t panic.

We have no name. Only fire and ruin and wrath.

“You’re – you’re the sun. The one outside! Is this you infecting me? Am I sick?” She looked at her arms, fear starting to broil. But there were no angry burns appearing there.

This is our form of communication. We are so far away. The shields have dampened our telepathic field.

“Well, what do you want then? Why are you talking to me?”

There was silence for a few moments before:

I was bored.

The same reason she and the Doctor came to the planet. She was bored.

“And are you entertained now?” the edge of mockery in her voice was satisfying. But her head was beginning to pound.

You’re very strange. Very weak. Are you aware of how weak you are?

“Shut up!”

“(Y/N)?”

She whirled around and found the Doctor at the bottom of the stairs. She was breathing heavy, sweat dripping from her chin and hands.

“Who’re you talking to?” He kept his face calm, void of the real emotion he was feeling. Fear.

She swallowed, finding her throat remarkably dry, “No – no one.”

Interesting.

“Are you all right?” He took a few cautious steps towards her, his shirt sleeves still rolled up and his tie now loosened. She eyed him thoughtfully. Too thoughtfully.

Very interesting.

“I’m fine. The heat – it’s too much for me,” she cracked a lackluster smile, “It’s stuffy in here, isn’t it?”

The Doctor nodded carefully, raising a cautious hand and touching her shoulder. He pulled back almost immediately.

“What is it?”

Clever Doctor.

He stared at her with newfound confusion. The stare was so intense she felt as though she were being x-rayed.

“What have you done to her?”

Curiouser and curiouser.

“Can you hear him?” (Y/N) asked, whispering despite knowing the being could hear perfectly fine.

The Doctor refused to look away from her, “Answer me.”

You have some interesting trains of thought as well, Doctor. Very secret and very guarded.

“He’s in your head too?” (Y/N) looked back at the Doctor, trying her best to stay afloat. Her headache was becoming all consuming, she couldn’t ignore it much longer. Perhaps her wobbly knees will give way first.

The Doctor clenched his jaw, a few fingers to his temple, “You should ask for permission before you go snooping around.”

Ah, Time Lord – you have telepathy of your own.

“You have no right to this world,” he continued, “No right to consume what you don’t need.”

The man that regrets.

(Y/N) could feel the tension seizing the Doctor. She trailed her suddenly tired eyes towards his face. He wasn’t holding back now, he was upset – he was hurting. The label struck a cord in him. It made him think of an impossibly long list of heartaches.

And his companion: the dying girl.

She held her breath. That was a label she didn’t recognize.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t talk to it,” The Doctor said, moving his fingers from his head towards (Y/N)’s. “I’ve shut him out of my mind. Now I’ll shut him out of yours.”

You should be afraid. Be very afraid you weak, dying girl.

“Stop it,” she said. She wrapped her hands around the Doctor’s wrists, shutting her eyes tight against the words he could no longer hear. A burning like nothing else was heating her bones, it started low and began to grow until it was scorching.

“Stop it, stop it! PLEASE.”

“I’ve almost got it, (Y/N),” the Doctor ground out, “Bear with me, I’ve got you.”

No ones got you. You’re alone. Void of memories. Family. Life. Your time is up, dying girl.

Blisters erupted on her arms, searing away her skin. “Please! STOP IT.” Unexpected tears ran hot down her sweltering face. Sweat made her rosy cheeks shine.

There is no help coming. You are meant to die. From the moment you woke you were meant to be dead.

And snap. Her head was silent.

She fell into the Doctor’s arms, trembling and burning. He clutched at her, saying words that she couldn’t make out. White noise was shoving cotton in her ears. There was a scent of smoke in the air. Was that coming from her?

And she fainted.

~~~

It was bright. So bright.

There were shadows passing behind her eyelids and she was reluctant to open them. Every bone in her body, every joint, ached and burned. She was suddenly very aware of her limbs and how sore they were.

“What happened?”

Someone was near her, ready to answer, “You were filled with tendrils of that sun being energy. He stuck a needle into your mind and poisoned you. It was an instantaneous infection.”

She cracked open one eye to give him a look. It almost made him smile.

“He gave you the plague. You’ve been sick.”

She groaned, “If this is what being sick feels like, I’ve been terribly naïve.” She felt a hand on her forehead, and it was cool against the heat of her skin.

“You have been sick for a long while, my child.”

(Y/N) opened her eyes at the unfamiliar voice. She was surprised to see a cat. A blooming cat.

“Novice Hame, this is (Y/N),” the Doctor frowned. (Y/N) swiveled her gaze from the robed cat to his placid face. He had that expression sometimes when he was dwelling on something particularly sullen or painful.

When he dwelled on the past. Or his regrets. The man that regrets.

“Where am I?”

“Remember that hospital I wanted to take you to all those months ago.” His voice sounded tired. His hand trailed to the back of her head.

Novice Hame purred, “You’re a patient at the New New York Hospital. We’ve been treating you the past few days.”

“Days?” (Y/N) questioned. She tried to sit up, her face pinched in pain, and the Doctor helped her. “What’s happened to Axiless the First?”

“I’ve given them the blueprints, the technology. They’ll be fine. The Sisters of Plenitude provided medicine for their plague victims. They’ll be fine without me.”

“You didn’t stay to help?” She watched him pull his hand away, intertwining his fingers tightly across his stomach. He sat more stony as he watched her without much reaction.

“They’ll be fine. I was needed elsewhere.”

The way he stared at her was excruciating. She wished he would tell her what he was thinking.

(Y/N) looked at her arms, searching for the blisters and burns she felt explode on her skin. But they were clear, “I don’t look like I have the plague anymore. Why do I feel so sick then?”

“You’re ill with much more,” Novice Hame said, moving towards the bed and fiddling with a side table of medications. “Like I said, you’ve been sick for a long while.”

“How long? Sick with what?” She put a hand to her head, feeling faint again. “I don’t get sick, nurse.”

The cat smiled with pointed teeth, “We’re still working it out.”

“You don’t get sick with human disease, (Y/N). We’re talking about alien disease.” The Doctor put more inflection in his voice though his face was still flat. “I should’ve taken you to this hospital the first chance I got,” he whispered.

“Alright, now you’re scaring me.” (Y/N) turned towards the novice and asked, “Tell me.”

The cat woman appeared conflicted, as if she didn’t know where to begin. But she shared a look with the seated Time Lord and sighed, “As far as we can tell – you’ve been ill all your life.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

(Y/N) flickered her gaze towards the Doctor and saw the sorrow creep into his face.

“You still feel sick because it wasn’t just the sun plague that was ailing you,” Novice Hame continued, folding her hands in front of her, “The Doctor tells me you’ve been experiencing fatigue, dizzy spells, the last few weeks.”

She swallowed hard, “I’ve been tired is all.”

“You’ve been experiencing withdrawal.”

(Y/N) blinked, then scoffed, “Withdrawal?”

“Your body is dependent on a substance to keep it going. Since leaving Earth, you haven’t been receiving it.”

She glared at the cat, as if saying she’d better keep talking before something bad happens. The Doctor remained silent, sitting as still as he could but never taking his eyes off of (Y/N)’s reaction.

“While you were healing from the plague, we took the liberty of analyzing your blood. Over three-quarters of the cells there were mutated. They were defected, synthesized cells. They were still fully functioning; they just weren’t natural. They didn’t come from you.”

“Is that… is that why you were able to track me?” She addressed the Doctor.

If possible, his frown deepened. “Your particle trail. It was traceable because your biology has been tainted with a traceable substance.”

“What is this substance?”

Novice Hame continued, “The human body depends on constant cell replacement to survive. When you have a cut, the body creates new cells to heal it. When you scrape your skin, your body creates cells to replace it. Blood cells are used for so many things that they tire and die, and then must be replaced to keep the body functioning. Without cell replacement, oxygen won’t get to your organs. Nutrients won’t replenish growth. Nerves would become defective.”

“Alright, I get it,” (Y/N) said, her head aching with the upheaval of information. “Cells are important. I asked what the substance was in my body.”

“I’m telling you that’s what the substance does. This substance is acting as those new cells replacing your old ones. For some reason, your body has stopped producing its own cells, it’s completely dependent on outside help.”

“But – but if I’ve been dependent on whatever that is my entire life… how have I been getting it without realizing it?”

There was a long pause as the cat woman debated her phrasing. “Have you been in contact with someone or some place on a regular basis? A regular visit maybe that would give enough time for someone to administer the cells?”

“Well, the only person I see almost every day is my fiancé Andrew. The only person I see on a regular basis is Andrew.”

“And you haven’t seen him in months,” The Doctor muttered.

Novice Hame sighed, her voice delicate and feline, “What do you know of your fiancé?”

(Y/N) stared at her incredulously, “You’re not suggesting… you think my Andy has something to do with this?”

“He’s been with you from the moment you woke up,” the Doctor said with more of an air of thinking aloud. “Said so yourself, he was the first face you saw.”

Not true. And he knew it.

“Then we have reason to believe that this Andrew has been secretly giving you a substance of synthesized human DNA regularly. And you are in dire need of a cell replacement.”

(Y/N) sat there, a strange itch in her hands. She felt like she should be doing something. She felt like she needed to be moving. Her breathing was becoming heavy, her eyes wide and stunned.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, “Why would he make me addicted to something like that? And I need it to live?”

“Yes,” Novice Hame said, “We’ve been trying to get your body to regenerate cells on its own again, but to no avail. This drug substance is powerful and foreign.”

“And you can’t just make more of the drug?”

“I’m so so sorry.” The Doctor had finally put his face in his hands.

Novice Hame remained solemn, “We don’t understand its compounds. It may be synthesized, but we don’t know how to replicate it.”

They were silent again, except for the rapid breathing coming from (Y/N). She could feel the tears trying to creep into her vision.

“So I’m an addict, that’s it? I’m an addict with a drug dealer fiancé. Why would the Reapers want me for that?”

The Doctor stood from his chair, pacing in front of the bed, “And how could my alien tracer track you if this substance is only defected, synthesized human DNA? That’s not alien.”

“The mutations were manufactured by something alien; it always leaves a trace.”

“And the Reapers come after beings they believe have cheated death,” the Doctor continued, pacing with new purpose.

(Y/N) felt her eyes water further, “The dying girl.”

The Doctor snapped his attention to her.

“I was called the dying girl. Apparently I’m supposed to be dead. Meant to have died.”

He looked at her with fierceness, jutting a finger at Novice Hame, “You are going to find a cure.”

“But Doctor…”

“You are going to find a cure and fix this!” a deep seeded power was entering his voice. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, (Y/N) figured she’d ought to have been afraid. “She is going to get better. She has to!”

(Y/N) felt a pang in her gut.

“We’re going to ask dear old Andrew a few questions,” the Doctor continued, an ancient anger in his expression. “And we’re going to get you well. He’s bound to have more of that drug.”

“Doctor, she is very weak, you’re going to have to be careful.”

He put his hands on the railing at the foot of her bed. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to lose her. Not today.”

And (Y/N) believed him. Those tears left salty tracks down her cheeks as she stared at him. But if he didn’t lose her today, then when?

He cannot share a life with someone he could lose. Not so easily.

~~~

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Étienne the Fae, Part One of Two

This was commissioned by the illustrious and fantastical @monsterfolkandfiction​! Thank you so much, and I hope that everyone enjoys this story as well. A second part is being drafted now.

tw: disordered eating, manipulative and abusive mother

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement.

You shouldn’t have gone into your grandfather’s basement. .

There were voices. Lots of voices, and you thought that a show of brilliance might grant your grandfather’s coveted attention above your cousins’. The door was unlocked, how could you not sneak a peek down the forbidden stairwell? So you crept down, hand on the rail for safety, eyes wide in the hopes of spotting something.

You remember how to summon him. Always. You’ve blocked out everything else about him, but you always remember how to call him back, even if you never will. Only in an emergency, you would always think, glaring at your mark as though he can see you through the mottled purple flesh.

You wipe a bit of sweat from your face, chewing on your lower lip as you glance over your shoulder at the ticking clock—almost midnight. The little vagrant who caused the muddy disaster you’re cleaning is asleep already, hand clutching her rag still as she lays limp on the wooden floor.

Maria is a good kid. Troubled, yes, a mischief-maker for sure, but she’s good. She’s just the type who needs a little guidance, that’s all. You didn’t bother trying to wake her back up, mostly because you know it would do no good, and honestly, it’s probably easier to finish the mess yourself without dealing with a cranky, tired child. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like she hasn’t managed to clean up her messes before.

Just a little bit, you tell yourself as you scrub the rest of the mud from the floor,she’s lost.

It doesn’t take you much longer to finish up the mud, the water in the bucket sloshing an earthy brown the more you pollute it with the dirt slurry on your rag. None of the nuns have walked by the entrance, which is good, because you don’t exactly want to face them. You wouldn’t even have to come up with an explanation, they’ll know, especially the head of the abbey. The last thing you’d want is for Maria to be whipped with that reedy switch some of the nuns carry around to punish unruly children.

After dumping out the bucket of dirt, you wipe your sweaty palms on your apron, letting out a bated breath. The moon has already sunk behind the hills, the night only lit by the dim candles you managed to steal out from the servant’s noses. While one might think that a place of worship would have plenty of access to such supplies, it seems like everything is scarce in the days where the darkness licks and poisons like a snake.

“Are you alright, young sister?”

Though you jump, it’s only Sister Anya, a soft, young-looking nun looking down at you with the utmost concern.

Her pale hair is highlighted by the candlelight in the most martyr-like way that you feel the urge to fall on your knees and plead for her to pray for you. Everything about her is ethereal, almost almost horrendously beautiful, blue eyes so deep and dark your lungs fill with water as though drowning when you look at her.

Trying to steady yourself, you place a hand on the wooden bannister, then nod, shakily.

She glances at the bucket you’re holding, and her gaze softens considerably. “Were the children giving you a difficult time today?”

Since you know Anya isn’t one of the nuns who believe that pain is the path to godliness, so you’re more willing to express any frustrations you might have with her. So you shrug, then roll your eyes, trying to force your tongue to work but settle for gestures instead.

Sister Anya places a hand on your shoulder sympathetic gesture.” Your nerves are high today, hm?”

Thankful you don’t have to bother explaining yourself, verbally or through a thousand of different hand positions, you nod.

Sister Anya lets out a gentle sigh. “I’m so sorry, dove, the children ought to know not to press against your patience.”

Again, you shrug, walking over to the door in order to dump the muddied bucket, before passing it to her waiting hands.

“Again,” Sister Anya says softly, “I know that you’re not obligated to be here, but you know that the children love you. Even if they aren’t always so well behaved.”

You nod in acknowledgement, having had this conversation with her before. No matter the chaos the orphanage children might instil during sunlight, you always return, knowing that the kids truly mean well at the end of the day. Memories of blood bubble in your throat, your empathy digging too deeply in your past that you feel a sense of fear.

Quickly, you bid your leave, knowing that you should have long been back in your bed. God, if your mother finds out you’ve been loitering this late-

“Oh,” Sister Anya concedes, “of course, should I walk you back?”

Quickly, you shake your head, not wishing that she put herself at risk for your own sake. After once more asking over your assuredness, Sister Anya concedes, though her concern is not at all lacking. You know that the woods host a very numerous amount of creatures, though none have dared to ever bother you. The contrast has been so stark against the countless first-hand stories than you’ve heard that you’ve almost convinced yourself that you’re invisible to their otherworldly eyes, although you still hold healthy regard for what you might not understand.

Still, on the way back, all the negative attention you might receive is brief and fleeting, most crackling within the woods retreating as though you were about to set fire to the numerous dried foliage of the coming winter. Besides, your family estate is alarmingly close, you should be within the safety of its walls shortly after embarking, the sprites and critters almost obnoxiously ignoring your presence. Ever since… the incident, you haven’t needed to take the same precautions as the rest of your peers, and thus you manage to get yourself home earlier than someone might have estimated.

There is a lot to be happy about your life, you suppose, staring blankly up at the family portrait up on the wall. Happy mother. Happy father. Their absolute disgrace of an eldest child, which is you, unfortunately. You know that there are children in that abbey who would kill to have the same privileges you do, warm bed, food whenever you need, and water that doesn’t have a rusty undertaste of dirt, so you try not to feel… ungrateful.

You lick your lips, peeking out from the hall to check for anyone making their rounds, then quickly and quietly walk by the window towards your room. It’s late, so no one should be up, but that’s never stopped your mother when she’s in one of her worse moods, and just as you predicted, you hear her rapidly approach. Now entering panic mode, you move twice as quickly, slipping into your room and shutting the door quietly behind you.

Your muscles are stiff, fingers shaking, as you desperately try to pull the pins in your hair that kept everything marginally in place as you worked, knowing that you should be at least in your nightgown at this time. The scent of roses is thick, putrid, and always the choice of perfume for your mother. You suppose that it’s nice that you can at least smell her before she fully arrives, but now you can hardly look at those flowers without feeling a pinch of anxiety flowing through your chest.

The door wrenches open, your mother neither gentle nor willing to give you those extra precious moments where you might hide something. Your brush is in hand, and you are in the process of working through the knots that had accumulated through the day, but by the look of her face in the candlelight, your supposed innocence will be deeply in question.

“Where have you been?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, it’s all you can do to not wince when she speaks.

I was at the orphanage, mother. You can’t even look her in the eye.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to work among those pathetic waifs, girl.”

Mother doesn’t even bother with your name, especially when she’s angry. And, judging by the tone of her voice, she’s incensed by something, only you don’t even know what it is she’s accusing you of, so you can’t even offer up any meagre defences.

“Did I say you were allowed to stay until the night turns to morning? What kind of a reputation are you trying to gain, you stupid, ungrateful child?”

The only ‘men’ in that orphanage are younger than eleven, but you know that this outburst isn’t at all over your chastity.

She raises her hand, and you flinch, but the strike doesn’t come this time. Instead, she walks up behind you, snagging the brush out of your hand and begins an aggressive grooming routine. “You should be grateful for what I give you and stop trying my patience. Everything I do for you is always met with silence, do you think the Bennet girls treat their poor mother like this? Or has the devil cursed me with you?”

You know that any attempt to escape her gnarled, rough fingers would be met with even more violence, so you sit still, digging your fingernails into the cushion of your chair. Everything in your body is on edge, your jaw is tight, your stomach still, all your muscles frozen in place to keep from crying out as the onslaught of your scalp continues. Silently resigned, you stare at yourself in the mirror, hating everything you see in the reflective glass.

“You would think that the gods would give me a child who shows a modicum of mercy for her poor mother, but no, all I get is this pathetic excuse of a lady. I know everyone goes behind my back and talks about what a joke you are, and yet you don’t even care enough about the person who put you into this world to even care enough to change.”

Your throat is dry, your eyes are not. Stubbornly, though, you refuse to give her tears, because she’ll only think that crying is a method of trying to guilt her into stopping. So you’re quiet, and you accept the onslaught of verbal terror, trying to let it all wash over you like water running over stones in a river.

“I should have never let you stay that summer with your grandfather, he put in all the wrong ideas in your head. And where did that get him, anyway? In a casket, six feet under.” Eventually, she tires herself out, as she always does. As she places the brushes back on the vanity, she notices the little jar of candies you like to keep around for both yourself and your younger siblings. Her brow furrows, and she takes it, “you don’t need to eat more than you already do.”

You don’t turn to watch her leave, letting the dull slamming of the door speak for itself. Once you’re certain she’s not going to come back for another round, you reach up and start braiding your hair for the night, fingers separating the strands and weaving them together. A strange sort of numbness takes over your body, a tugging emptiness draining your chest and veins of any life. When you lay your head on the pillow, there’s dampness on your cheek that you hadn’t noticed prior.

Luckily for you, in the morning, you are left to be ignored once more. You suppose that you are grateful that your mother only seeks you out when she is angry because that offers more freedom to do as you please when she isn’t. A strange thing to enjoy, but you are still willing to count your blessings nonetheless.

Every day goes by more or less the same. You pretend to be a fancy lady for the minimum amount of time, though thankfully you’re so often ignored you can slip away and head down to the orphanage. You have no official schedule of volunteering, since some days your mother is more persistently present than others, but the nuns are thankful for your appearance more or less.

And you tell yourself that you’re satisfied with everything. It’s a lie, and you know it’s a lie, but the moment you begin to move past that safe little untruth, you think your world will fall apart. So you wait. And you watch. And you’re silent.

The day your mother is uncharacteristically cheerful is the day you feel genuine fear.

She’s humming while going over the cook’s menu ideas. Humming. And she requested to see you… which… is rather unusual. As you walk in, you try to peek over her shoulder, though she shifts the papers ever so slightly out of your sight, offering a warning grunt in your direction. Still unsure of where she might be taking this nonexistent conversation, you take your book and sit on the other side of the table, trying to keep calm.

“There’s going to be a wedding,” she says in a sing-songy voice.

Normally, when your peers are wed off, she takes it like a personal attack, as though each girl is mocking your family by daring to marry before you. Now you’re even more nervous, trying to think over which of your siblings could be of marrying age. Surely they haven’t roped any poor waif into marrying your idiot brother, right?

“Tell me what colors you think would be appropriate for a spring ceremony,” she says, so dreamily it shakes you to your core.

You open your mouth, but your chest is so constricted by fear that it can’t possibly push air through your throat. Instead, you just look down and shrug, trying to steady yourself as you sit. God, you’re so hungry. That breakfast never really fills you up, but you never dare try to scavenge for more food in the daytime.

“I didn’t think you would have the good sense to know, anyways,” your mother dismisses your opinion with the wave of her hand. “A light lavender, maybe? Oh, perhaps daisies would be lovely, but that might seem too ‘country…’ or would that be fashionable?”

You nervously let her ramble, wishing you had it in you to just… get up. Leave. Go someplace where you would be alone and lie down. Your body itches to be surrounded by the greenery in the garden, let yourself become one with the earth. Never worrying about the court, about gentlemen of good breeding, or your mother again. She’s taking tea with biscuits, enough food on that platter to share, but you know better than to try to reach your hand over to grasp one.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and your mother even crueler. You don’t have much more warning than the click of your father’s office door as he and an unfamiliar person exit, and adrenaline laces along your veins. You don’t like how your mother looks at him, you don’t like how he looks at you, and you would very much like to no longer be perceived as a physical being. As your mother stands, you follow suit, just out of shock.

“Mr. Andreas,” your mother croons, a shiver of horror running down your spine.

The stranger nods, then glances over you with a critical kind of look, one that makes your insides squirm so uncomfortably you almost vomit.

“We’ve agreed to the terms,” your father says, then nods in your direction. “The wedding will be set in the spring.”

You’re dizzy, all the blood rushing from your head.

To make things worse, your mother is closer, the pungent scent of flowers invading your lungs with such a pervasive efficiency you can’t even breathe. She’s holding your hand, squeezing your pulse so tightly you know the blood is pooling out between her fingertips, and says, “say hello to your fiance, darling. Don’t be rude.”

It feels like a blink. A quick moment of absolutely nothing, your soul floating up above you like a spectre, and then you’re back. And in bed.

It’s dark outside, and a candle faithfully burns on the table by your bed. Leaning over, you blow it out, knowing that someone not nearly as blessed as you could use the precious light more. Your window rattles, a black shape writhing and clicking against the glass, but it doesn’t break through.

Your head feels empty, a thick, persistent kind of nothingness frying the different pathways to thought. Something important happened, something…. something you should be wary of, but it takes you quite a long time to remember the day’s events until a glimpse of that man’s smarmy face surfaces.

Engaged.

The word makes you gag, but there’s nothing in your stomach to retch. You have no clear idea of how long you’ve been in bed, but as you place your feet on the cold ground, a wave of empty dizziness fizzles through your head. It’s a hungry kind of dizziness, one where your body is at its last leg trying to keep itself upright.

There’s a hot, white pinching in your chest as you rise to a hand, legs and arms shaking like a leaf in a storm. Kitchen, you have to get to the kitchen, your vision blurry and faint. Still, you do your best to keep yourself together as you silently slip out of your room.

The halls are eerily silent, candlelight keeping the night’s terrors at bay. Servants occasionally make rounds to make sure the light doesn’t snuff itself out, but you’ve long timed the carefully coordinated efforts. Arms wrapped around your chest, you slowly make your way back to the kitchens, careful to dodge any straggling staff in the halls.

For the most part, the kitchen is rather modestly sized in comparison to the rest of the house, something the servants and cooks gripe about during the wasteful parties your parents throw to uphold some kind of ridiculous facade of class and wealth. But for you, in your occasional midnight snack, it’s just the right size to feel homely, but also with enough books and crannies for you to duck behind if someone unexpected makes a surprise cameo.

But today, it looks like the last person you wanted to see has been anticipating your visit though.

“Really,” your mother says, arms crossed, the steady glare of rage on her brow, “you faint to embarrass me and then, instead of apologizing, the first thing you think to do is to eat more?”

You swallow thickly, knowing you’re about to get an apocalyptic lecture.

“Look at yourself, girl,” your mother makes a wide, gestural sweep over your body, “your obsession with eating is what made you so difficult to marry in the first place. No one wants to marry a whale! And now that you think you’ve landed a man, you can settle back to your old bad habits?”

You shake your head, clammy and afraid.

“Of course not,” she doesn’t raise her voice, not once, and that somehow makes everything worse, “I told you all you needed was to lose those flaps at your waist, but you can’t even adhere to the diet I’ve set you on.”

If you faint again, she’s going to claim you only did so to guilt her, so you hold your dizzying head together with spit and empty determination. There’s a half-eaten loaf of bread covered on the stove, mocking you with its closeness, laughing at your desperation.

“Everything I do for you, and all you give me in return is your spiteful attitude.” She sighs dramatically and shakes her head. “Go back to bed, girl, I can’t even look at you without feeling disgusting. I don’t know how you can live the way you do.”

You don’t. But you accept the out, shakily wobbling back to your room, hearing your mother call out behind you.

“The engagement party is three days away. You know the rules.”

No sneaking food. Of course you do, she doesn’t allow you to forget it. You go back to your room and lay down on the bed, trying to ignore the painful punches in your starving stomach. Breakfasts in the morning. Breakfast in the morning. Breakfast in the morning.

The party is the epitome of everything you hate.

Bright, gaudy, the food so rich and plentiful despite the nearly starving children barely a mile away. Already you’re mentally calculating how much food you can sneak out to the abbey as soon as the night comes to a close, figuring that you might even be able to make two trips if you truly had to. Sister Anya would protest against you moving through the night, but you’ve never had any issues with the sprites.

Folding your hands together, you try to remain present in the moment, but you quickly find your fingernails scratching invisible streaks down your arms, landing on the palm of your hand... to the mark on your wrist. The doctor speculated that it must have been some kind of chemical burn, mostly because there seemed to be no other explanation about it. A toxic liquid spilt onto your wrist when you were wandering somewhere you weren’t supposed to be, and so now you must bear the speculations and the whispers whenever someone new catches a glimpse of the marking.

It’s an odd kind of thing, all angles and thin lines, coalescing in a shape that seems too particular and sharp to be an accidental blob. When you press your thumb down and close your eyes, though, you can see the exact moment you received it, smell the harsh sanitized basement, but somehow catch a whiff of summer lavender.

Could this be your emergency?

Quickly, you try to fill your mind with a thousand other thoughts, flooding your head to the point that scent is once again a distant memory. Everything that followed that day was filled to the brim with misfortune and misery, and you don’t wish to relive it in the slightest. Not until you absolutely have to.

Your mother is right, the duke is only interested in the land your father offers. To her, though, that’s some kind of blessing. For you, however, seated at the table, it feels like the darkest wickedness. Only once does that man glance in your direction, and you can see his nose briefly wrinkle as he silently dresses you down, as though he feels that fucking you would be some kind of burden that he would skip if allowed.

Everything about him fills you up with a strange sense of terror. It’s the way he holds himself, you think, looking over his posture and general facial expression. Tall. High. He might not be the largest man in the room, but he certainly acts the part, stepping over those he doesn’t necessarily deem to be equal.

To your parents though, that’s just a sign of good breeding. Something that you somehow don’t possess, even though ancestry is theoretically squeaky clean. Through your eyelashes, you observe him, lips glued shut with the waxy lipstick smeared against them. You want to crawl out of your skin, melt into the floorboards, fade into the wall, but you’re stuck in place beneath your mother’s critical glare.

Knowing exactly what she might be thinking, you try to mingle, but everyone has long learned that you’re not the type for conversation. Your search for a discussion amounts to you wandering circles around the ballroom, doing your best to seem interested in what’s going on, but ultimately being ignored.

Eventually, you end up back at the table, filled to the brim with foods so decadent and delicious your mouth waters at the scent. Cautiously, you look over your shoulder as you reach down, to find your mother staring at you from a nearby corner. Your hand freezes, and you retract it, almost ashamed.

The mark on your wrist throbs, gently reminding you of a possibility you can allow yourself to have.

Biting down on your tongue, you merely pour yourself some of the lemon flavored water laid out to the side, hoping to fill your stomach if only for a few moments. Everything is too bright, too much, you’re drowning in the absence of everything you could possibly want.

Even though you know your mother will be at her wit’s end, you snag a champagne flute and decide to go back to your room. The bubbles burn as you drink the flute down faster than should be done, retreating back through the crowded hallway. On your way out, you see a servant carrying another tray of alcohol, and you recklessly switch out your empty cup.

Bitterness swells in your throat. You don’t fucking deserve this, you never have. A part of you wants to burn the mansion down and let the sweeping darkness devour the ashes, but you’ve never had the courage or smarts to pull such a feat off. You spot another platter of champagne and make the trade once more.

Just as you begin sipping the brightly flavored alcohol, you bump into someone sturdy. Hard, dark, tall… your fiancé, unfortunately, you notice. Quickly, you lose all confidence you had been building up and instead curtsy out an apology.

“When your father said you were as quiet as a mouse I didn’t think it was possible,” he laughs, almost good naturally, “I didn’t think a woman could be quiet even if her life depended on it.”

The tops of your ears flare.

“But this is a nice surprise, I think it might make up for your other shortcomings.” He waves his hand in your face, as though you are deaf, not mute, then laughs again. “I suppose we’ll see whether or not you can squeal on the wedding night.”

An almost extinct temper raises its ugly head, you’re furious, but above all else, you’re embarrassed. The alcohol makes your anger boil over more, and to add insult to injury, he doesn’t seem to take the hint to stop talking.

“At least you wouldn’t be able to complain. I hate it when women think they deserve to be heard.” And just like that, he abandons you, wandering off towards a group of people you recognize as your neighbors.

Angrily, you drink more of the champagne, going up the stairs and trying to keep yourself calm. But you’re not calm, you’re furious. At yourself, at your parents, and at that babyfaced ass who has the audacity to mock you in the middle of your joint engagement party. By the time you get to your room, your face is hot and boiling with rage, the empty champagne flute mindlessly left on some random surface, and you bury yourself in the bed. You’ve drunk a fat more tonight than you have in years.

You can’t call a servant to help you out of this satin nightmare, not without your mother being informed, so you’re stuck trying to dislocate both your shoulders in order to reach at the strings lacing the top together. Nothing seems to be working, and you are getting more and more frustrated with your progress, each fucking second wasted on your struggles, making you more upset at the overall predicament.

And then, a thought.

Your drunken mind thinks it’s brilliant. The last thread of your sanity warns you that it’s stupid. But both parties involved agree that it would be very, very funny.

Your thumb finds the mark on your wrist.

Call an eternal being forth just to untie your corset? Absolutely ludicrous. Stupid, even. But definitely hilarious. At least, your drunken mind thinks it’s funny. Slowly, you trace the mark around with your indent finger, your eyesight blurry with drink.

Touch the mark. You place two of your fingers against the pulse of your wrist. Recite my name. Three times, unbroken.

It’s not an incredibly complicated ritual. You’ve recited it in your head many times, staring out of your window, tongue making the motions in your mouth. One favor, you get only but one favor, and every single day you’ve had to deal with another one of your mother’s lectures, your father’s criticism, or some other critical motion from most other people in your life, you’ve thought of him.

But now, while drunk, and after the party, it seems like a fine time to bring him forth from the Otherworld. If only to cause a bit of much-needed chaos. You close your eyes, urging your tongue to move, and you say-

“Étienne. Étienne. Étienne.”

Nothing happens. There is an overwhelming silence, one that causes your body to collapse further into the mattress, your brain slowly shutting itself off in a desperate attempt to sleep off the inordinate amount of alcohol that you’ve consumed. Your tongue and mouth are dry, almost as though they were stuffed with towels and cloth, a hazy exhaustion blocking your vision from comprehension.

And you’re asleep.

You don’t exactly know how long you were asleep for, only that you wake up with a throat as dry as the Dark Desert, lips cracked and bleeding, wrist tingling almost painfully like a thousand little pins are piercing into your flesh, though your face is oddly wet. The candle flickers at your side, likely lit by a servant, illuminating red dampness left on your pillow. A headache pinches between your eyes as you try to process those different elements.

“Here,” a smooth, low voice says, a gloved hand offering up a linen handkerchief.

You accept it, then realize who the hand belongs to. Quickly, you scoot yourself back right up to your headboard, spine pressing almost uncomfortably against the heavy wood.

He’s silent for a moment, eyes so dark and blue you feel like they’re sucking you in as though they’re a whirlpool, and you’re adrift in an ocean clinging to a piece of wood. Then he laughs, shockingly youthfully, hand over his mouth as you yank the handkerchief out from his fingers, pushing it up to your nose to catch the continuous drip of blood. Your mouth tastes like hot copper laid out in the sun, and droplets of redstart swimming in your vision.

“My dear,” he says, cocking his head to the side, curiously, “you called me here.”

“No I di-” fuck, the memory of what must have been only a fe hours prior swimming upward in your mind. “Well, I didn’t mean it.”

“Unfortunately whatever your intentions are, I cannot leave until your wish is fulfilled.” Luckily, he doesn’t seem at all annoyed. Only mildly disinterested in what your problems might be.

“Can’t you just go back?” You ask, voice losing its rasp as you swallow a mouthful of blood.

“That’s not how this works,” he says, almost disappointed in your desperate attempts to make him leave.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“You’re shaking,” He observes, settling on the edge of your bed.

It’s as though the spirit of your mother possesses your body, vomiting out a sentence about your chastity as a lady, “there’s a man in my room, at night, with no chaperone present.”

A perfectly manicured eyebrow pops up. “You know I cannot hurt you.”

“It’s not about you, it’s- it’s about my reputation as a lady-”

The other eyebrow follows suit, and he’s looking at you so sceptically it appears he thinks this is some sort of trick. He reaches over and grabs hold of your hand, drawing your wrist close as to double-check for the mark. “I don’t remember you being such a meek little thing.”

“I was ten the last time we met.” You say, trying to keep your voice even.

“And you bit me, if I remember correctly.” And he smiles, as though the memory of a precocious child is somehow a fond one.

This can’t be happening, you can’t be having this conversation with him. A conversation. Talking. You swallow thickly, raking your nails through your scalp, trying to breathe. “I was only trying to defend myself! You- you ki- you killed-”

“He deserved it,” he says, and you are unfortunately inclined to agree.

You can’t tell if the droplet of liquid running down the side of your cheek is blood or sweat. Taking in a shaking, angry breath, and you stare down at your hands, eyes stinging. Ah, tears, okay. This is fine. Everything is fine.

“Ah, darling, I’ve forgotten myself.” He reaches over, and you flinch, so he quickly retracts his hand. “Let’s try again. What do you want from me?”

You think back to all the tiny, ugly little pinpricks of insults you’ve garnered every goddamn day of your life since the incident. You think about your husband to be, you think about your mother, you think about your long-dead grandfather. Everything hurts. Everything is wrong. Slowly, you close your eyes and breathe, trying to keep yourself together, just for another few moments.

“I’m to be married to a nearby heir,” you say.

He cocks his head.

“I don’t want to be.”

[romanoffswifey]

Night Fright

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You disagree with Natasha’s insistence at sleeping with a gun, but when someone decides to break into your room at night, they’re the one who likes it least of all. Especially since she’s not the only one keeping weapons near the bed.

Contents/Warnings: fluff, some chaos, and a very brief mention of violence

Words: 1,216

AN -  This is my first time posting a fic for others to see, so if you do read it, I hope you enjoy it :)

lyubimaya means darling/beloved

You finally step out of the bathroom. Throwing your towel behind you as you finish patting your damp hair. Your quick shower having turned very long and very steamy after Natasha had invited herself in, only being convinced to actually get clean once you had set the water to freezing.

Now ready for sleep, you plop yourself down on the bed and watch as your girlfriend fusses with her gun on the other side. The pair of you having knocked it onto the floor that morning when getting a bit too enthusiastic during certain activities.

She looks up at you and rolls her eyes when she feels you watching her, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“What?” she asks exasperatedly, rolling her eyes again when you simply raise an eyebrow and gesture to the firearm in her hand. “It’s just a precaution Y/N, you never know what might happen,” she says as she shoves the gun between the top of your mattress and the headboard.

You sigh and shuffle closer to her. “Natasha, we’re superheroes. We live in a skyscraper filled with even more superheroes for god’s sake.”

“Which is exactly why we should always be prepared,” she explains, moving to lay down next to you.

“I never said we shouldn’t be prepared. I just don’t think we need to keep weapons in the bed,” you say. Smirking before adding, “Well, aside from you of course,” and snapping the elastic of her sleep shorts.

She laughs and shakes her head at your antics. Giving you a goodnight kiss, then turning off her bedside lamp and pulling the duvet over you both.

-

Sometime during the night you’re pulled from your sleep. But just as you’re about to drift off again, you hear something. The slight shuffle and creak of someone attempting to creep across the room.

At first you think it’s Natasha trying to sneak around, but she’d never make that much noise, and the faint snores and warmth at your back tell you she’s still fast asleep. Now fully wake, you keep your eyes shut and listen. Inching your hand slowly up the side of the bed and around the headboard, trying to be as quiet as possible as the footsteps get closer.

The source of the noise stops near the redhead’s side of the bed as you find what you’re searching for. You wrap your fingers tightly around the handle, and take a deep breath to steady your heartbeat. Waiting for your moment to strike.

Swiftly pulling the knife from its sheath, you dart up and across the bed, straddling Natasha protectively. You reach into the darkness and catch hold of the intruder, jamming your blade into them.

They cry out in pain, and Natasha shoots up under you. She flicks on the light and aims her handgun directly at the persons head. Making them release a second, higher pitched scream.

When you see who it is you let go of the knife and fall back onto the bed with a groan.

“What the actual fuck Clint?!” your girlfriend hisses at the man who’s stood there clutching his arm, only lowering her gun slightly. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“You mean besides getting stabbed by L/N?” You throw a pillow at him. “Okay, okay. I couldn’t sleep so I went for a crawl in the vents. But on my way back I caught my hand and split a couple of nails, so I came here to borrow some nail clippers,” he explains. Nodding toward the ceiling where you can see one of the panels has been knocked through.

You were about to question why he couldn’t have just waited until morning to ask for them, when you hear the door lock being overridden. Steve bursts into the room with his shield in hand. Confusion growing on his face as he takes in the scene before him.

“Hey, Steve,” you all greet.

“I heard screaming, is everything alright?” the blonde man asks as he glances between the three of you.

“Just birdbrain over here being a moron as usual,” you say, to which Clint makes an affronted noise and tries to throw your pillow back at you. Natasha just grabs it out of the air and smacks him in the face with it.

“I suppose we should take him down to medical,” she sighs as she finally puts her gun away.

You grumble and roll off the bed after her. Getting a small burst of satisfaction when the archer yelps as your girlfriend drags him out the door by his elbow.

“Could you put the ceiling back together while we get Barton patched up?” you ask the super soldier who’s hovering round, still trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Sure, Y/N,” he smiles.

“Thanks Cap.” You start off down the hallway after the others, throwing a “Oh, and nice pyjamas by the way,” over your shoulder with a smirk.

He looks down at himself with a slight blush. His black pyjama bottoms covered in a variety of red hourglasses, identical to your own.

-

“Well, that was way too much excitement for one night,” you say. Stepping into the tower lift so you and Natasha can make the journey back up to your room. The pair of you having left Clint with Bruce after he had very kindly offered to stitch up the injured man.

Natasha hums and crosses her arms, eyeing the now clean knife in your hand.

“So, what happened to not keeping weapons in the bed?” she asks teasingly.

You let out a small chuckle, knowing she was going to bring it up eventually. “Technically it wasn’t actually in the bed, just strapped to the bed,” you point out.

She rolls her eyes. “Still, I thought you said it was pointless?”

You let out a long breath, deciding to just give in. “I do think it’s a bit silly, especially since Tony built this place like a fortress. But when you first brought it up, I ended up thinking, what if someone did manage to get inside the Tower? What if there was nothing I could do because I ended up being outmatched? I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you Tasha,” you trail off shyly.

Natasha softens at your admission and takes your hand in hers, bringing it up to her lips. “I know you’d never let anything happen to me, lyubimaya,” she says, kissing your hand again. “Plus, I’m pretty good at handling myself in a fight. It’s sweet that you worry about me though.”

“Of course I worry about you, you doofus head. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The way she says it back, with a tender look in her green eyes and a lopsided smile, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The lift chimes to signal your arrival at your destination, and she moves further into your space. Her smile shifting into a sly smirk.

“If you’d like a little extra excitement before the night ends, I can show you exactly how much I love you,” she murmurs. Placing a kiss at the juncture of your jaw before stepping back and tugging you through the open doors.

Perhaps there was room for bit more excitement tonight.

[love-peterparker]

In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).  

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn’t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.  

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.  

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”  

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.  

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”  

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”  

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

[sekceesimps]

A Rose Made of Chains Ch 5

a/n Hey Simps! Very very sorry about the delay between 4 and 5. School actually sucks and makes me cry every night so I haven’t had time to write. Hopefully I can get 6 and 7 out within this week. Very sorry once again. 

sincerely, Coffee 🥵

Part 1:   teaser,    Ch 1,     Ch 2,     Ch 3  

Part 2:  teaser,   Ch 4,  Ch 6,   Ch 7

A soulmate AU chapter fic of Kurapika (Aged Up) and Reader who was kidnapped by the Phantom Troupe

You had remained meekly in your room desperately trying to think of a plan. You had to not only find a way to get into the hunter museum showing, but also somehow take the blade from a secure holding area. You wanted to curl up and die. No one said anything about the repercussions of failing, but you knew from Machi’s words that if you did fail you would probably be thrown back to where you were. The thought of being killed crossed your mind, but you weren’t exactly keen on dying anytime soon. You had just gotten a taste of freedom, you were not eager to lose it easily. The knowledge that you could keep the little privileges you had is what thrust you into developing the complex strategy to retrieve the spider’s desired blade. 

When your pink haired partner came into your room, you had finally prepared your plan.

“Hey, are you ready,” she asked as she plopped down beside you on the bed.           

You nod simply and begin with asking her about her nen ability. You were reluctant to tell her about your own, but you wanted to know what you would have to work with. She went into a little detail about her nen stitches but you had gotten a good idea of their use. 

The prospect of using her nen to harm others left a vile taste in your mouth, but you simply ignored it. Silently vowing to not hurt or let her hurt anyone on this mission. You informed her of your plans. You would be using your manipulation of the shadows to cloak yourselves when entering the museum crawling with hunters. From there the two of you should be able to blend in and grab the blade as long as you two kept collected appearances. If worse came to worst then you would have to hope that you two could fight your way out. 

The true nature of your nen is something you barely touched on in your spiel, hoping to keep what little privacy you had to yourself. She agreed to the plan and the two of you set out on your journey.

»»————-　　————-«« 

The drive to the museum had been fun. Your partner was a carefree person as she drove the two of you towards the mission. She had cracked jokes, making fun of the different troupe members you had met. Her demeanor was lighthearted and you couldn’t help but look at her and admire how attractive she was. Which is why it surprised you so much when she started flirting with you. In all honesty, you don’t consider yourself hot or someone desirable. All you can do is smile and flush red when she comments about how adorable your laugh is and how stunning you are. You decided that you felt almost comfortable with her. This ride solidified your admiration and attraction to her. You almost forgot that you were being held hostage and fighting for your life.

Coming to your destination felt quick, so when she parked the car you immediately perked up and felt ready. Your plans were now coming to fruition and you were eager to prove yourself. As you prepared to exit the sleek car, Machi had pulled you back by tugging at your shirt. 

“Whoa there, Y/N. Where do you think you’re going dressed like that. We’re going to a fancy gallery you can’t go in like that. As stunning as you are, this is a black tie event,” she paused and smiled at your blushing face. 

“I may have forgotten about that tiny detail,” you mumbled out, embarrassed. 

“I anticipated that, which is why I brought outfits for us,” she continued. Great move, Y/N, already failing and you’ve barely even started. You grin sheepishly as she reaches into the back and pulls out a bag. “You can change in the bathroom over there. I’ll get ready here.” 

You unzip the bag and look at the outfit she had chosen for you. It was a F/C gown/suit (whichever you’d like more) that complimented every feature of yours. The fabric was soft and breathable, you were truly amazed at it’s craftsmanship. Noticing your awe, she smiled with pride at her foresight of picking that out for you. You grab it and quickly dart towards the bathroom in the area she had parked. 

When you had come back to the car moments later in that stunning outfit it made Machi’s jaw drop. She wasn’t one that really showed much emotion, but goddamn your gorgeous body being accentuated by that outfit stunned her. If you weren’t already claimed by Chrollo she might have made a move on you at that moment. 

“Holy shit, Y/N. You look amazing in that. You’d look great in less, but hey I’m not complaining.” she couldn’t help praising you. You were just too good looking to not appreciate. If Chrollo wasn’t here to appreciate you, the least she could do was do it for him. Your face flushing pink never failed to make her elated. Yes, she could clearly see now why he wanted you as his own. 

“Thanks! You look great too, Machi,” you reply. Trying to hide how your eyes analyzed her own champagne shaded dress and how it clung to her in all the right ways. “Let’s go!” you announce as you let your aura increase and surround you. 

She analyzed your steady moves as you let the lack of light in the empty parking lot encase the two of you. “As long as you stay right next to me and use zetsu, we should both be undetectable. To everyone else, we just seem like a background.” you informed her, “don’t touch anyone and we should be alright,” she nods and presses herself closer to you. A little unnecessarily close but she smelled nice so you allowed it. 

Surprisingly, you had kept up your aura and shadow manipulation all the way into the museum. It was exciting to pass by pro-hunters, close enough to touch if they reached out, with them being blissfully unaware of your presence. When you two had reached a point that was semi-empty, you released your aura and let the two of you be seen again. You had told her that all she was meant to do now was stay with everyone and make sure that the guards were not close to you as you went into the backroom and took the knife using your nen again. In all honesty, you knew this mission could have been done with just you. It suited your abilities perfectly, pure stealth. However, you were also aware that they didn’t trust you and needed someone to babysit. Fair, if you were being honest. You still felt quite drained and tired after only using a small amount of your power. As the two of you parted ways, you drifted into the sea of people and made your way to the storage room with the exhibits. 

Getting the blade was a piece of cake. You put up your shadows, slipped behind the guards, and then bypassed the small security around the knife. It was a simple looking item but you could sense the aura around it from the entrance of the building. You tucked it neatly into your outfit and left as easily as you had come. 

As you made your way back into the crowd, the thought of creeping out unnoticed kept nagging at you. After being in the base for so long, you knew the chance of escape was slim to none. Out here though, it was only one troupe member, and she seemed like she liked you well enough to trust you if you took a few extra minutes retrieving the blade. Your mind was screaming to just go while you could. A part of you was tugging you and making your heartache as if it was missing something big. The logical part of you also knew that they probably already knew what you were thinking and already took precautions against it. As nice as Machi was to you, you knew that she wouldn’t hesitate in taking you back by force. Then the punishment would be severe and you’d be in so much pain again. So you push down your aching heart and soul and push past people to look for your spider friend. 

You had found her by the bar and stirring a drink. She smiled at seeing you back. If she was being honest, she thought that you would run and she’d have to hunt you down like what Chrollo had told her to do. She was glad. This meant that you were settling in nicely. You hardly protest as she lightly grips your arm and wraps her own around your waist, as she leads you out of the museum, just as they were beginning to bring the artifacts out. Right in the nick of time. 

“Nice job! You’re going to make a great addition. Get some rest, you look tired,” she announces when you make your way back to the vehicle. You nod in agreement as you pull out the knife and put it in the seat next to you. With a final exhale of exhaustion you passed out in the back of the car as Machi drove you two back to the base. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

She had nudged you awake and pushed you back into the hideout, allowing you a few moments to orient yourself and walk in. You carry yourself slightly more relaxed now. Of course, you weren’t at complete ease in a den of killers, but you were certain that they wouldn’t get rid of you tonight. Machi had told you that you could go back to your room and eat dinner as she took the knife and brought it to the troupe’s meeting. She had informed you that you were excused from it. 

You were glad at her forwardness. Being around two to three of these people at a time was fine, but the thought of being around the entirety of the spider made you shake in your shoes. As you sulked your way back to your room, thoughts of these people swam in your mind, drowning out any glimpse of a time before them, a time of true comfort. 

You had hardly realized that you had already made it into your room and into the shower of your private bathroom. You hardly remember sitting in the shower and letting the steaming hot water run over your body and wash away all the memories of what had just happened. It was a good warmth that let you forget what your future here would be like. When the water had started to make your skin prune and wrinkle, you decided that it was time to get out, as you turned the water off, wrapped yourself in a towel, and made your way back to the bed. 

It was surprising how you had gotten different styles of clothes placed into your drawers. Some shirts looked far too big, while others looked tiny. It was quite obvious that someone had just grabbed one of everything from the store and called it a day. Quite frankly, you didn’t mind as you grabbed a hoodie in your size and pulled it over your head. 

You lost track of time as you sort of just laid on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. You made sure to count and memorize every bump on it, a small sliver of satisfaction from the pure boredom nagging at your mind. The window allowed you to look at the landscape outside. Granted it was dark, but you could make out trees and greenery, nothing to tell you where you were though. You briefly entertained the idea of breaking the window and running into the forestry outside. 

The loud knocks at the door sharply broke you away from your brief thoughts of escape, as if a sign of fate telling you that it would be unsuccessful. For whatever reason, thinking of escape created painful shocks that numbed your brain. You sighed and got up, cracking open the door for whoever was interrupting you. 

He was standing there in the most casual way. He was still wearing the strange outfit from this morning, but his entire demeanor was different. It was friendly and lax, paired with a gleaming smile you couldn’t help but blush.  

“May I come in?” he asked politely. Ever the gentlemen. 

“Of course,” you respond and open the door wider for him to enter, giving him a smile in return.

It was unbeknownst to you how much he truly enjoyed seeing you smile. As he made his way into your room, you slyly take in his appearance now that he was in the better lighting of your room. He was so incredibly attractive. His hair was no longer slicked back, but looked more natural and loose, it meshed well with the eased look in his gray eyes. You realized that you hadn’t noticed the tattoo on his forehead before. You felt small in comparison to his striking beauty and powerful aura. His leaner physical appearance may have only been around 5’10”, but it felt as if he was so much greater. Come to think of it, why were all of the members that you had seen so far so attractive. Was being hot a requirement to be a spider? Why did they choose you then?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed that you were sitting beside Chrollo on your plush bed. He had pulled you out of your train of thought by asking you how you felt. 

“Hmm, fine, I guess,” you hummed at him. Unconsciously leaning towards him. You were beginning to feel how taxing using your nen ability had been. 

He must have taken note of this as he let you lean onto him, before wrapping his arms around you and laying down, with you laying half awake as the little spoon. You felt a little self conscious at his arms that were enfolding your waist and his hands laying on your stomach, your aura had started coming across as more anxious now. 

Quickly noticing this shift in mood, he let go and moved his arms up towards your shoulders, resting his hands around the crook of your neck. This was more bearable for you, you decided. You broke the calm silence first. 

“Chrollo,” you began quietly, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear you, “can we cuddle?” You felt stupid after asking such a ridiculous request. Why did you think asking the head of the spider to cuddle with you was smart. Now your only form of comfort here would leave. I’m such a dumbass you continued admonishing yourself. 

However, to your surprise he let out a low chuckle. God, his voice was so hot. “Of course, love”, he replied suavely and pulled you as close to himself as possible. “I’m so glad that you passed,” he continued murmuring sweet nothings into the shell of your ear. You found yourself turning around and facing him, nuzzling your face into his chest. This was… pleasant. It felt so familiar, but then again thinking of anything before being in that room with the man named Feitan made your stomach toss and turn. You ignored the passing feeling, trying to avoid any of the flashes of pain that you associated with trying to remember. 

“If you want, I can introduce you to the rest of the spiders tomorrow,” he mumbled into your hair. You only hum in response and bury your face into Chrollo’s chest again. He was so warm and his steady breaths with his calming heartbeat lull you easily to rest. As you fall deeper into the arms of peaceful sleep, images of a blonde who held you in the same position flashed by. 

a/n I’m kind of in love with Machi if you couldn’t tell 💀. Just to clear up some confusion, the reader is unaware that Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe massacred the Kurta Clan. This is a piece of information that Kurapika hadn’t revealed to her before she was taken. Anyways I hope you enjoyed it, please leave us some feedback! 

~I’ve also never written a scene like this before, so I hope it was ok~

[whythinktoomuch]

i. the quick & the dead

The biweekly scavenging missions are pretty much routine at this point. A small group of three to five people—each equipped with a firearm, a bottle of water, and an extra-large backpack—venturing outside the compound for food, meds, and any other supplies they might come across. 

But lately, resources have been getting fewer and father between, and Kara has been forced to push her team just a bit farther every time, and it’s only been getting worse. 

It’s on one such excursion that Kara spots Lena Luthor for the first time. 

Well, more specifically, Kara spots a well-worn rucksack and a shock of black hair in the endless sea of red dirt and nothingness. 

And, well, to be even more specific, Kara initially thinks that she’s just spotted another dead body. 

The protocol upon discovering corpses is very simple: 

strip the remains of all their belongings, 

then smash their heads in with whatever’s handy, lest they end up awaking with a vengeance and a mindless craving for human flesh. 

As always, Kara whispers a silent apology as she kneels down to examine the body. After a cursory once-over, Kara goes to take the rucksack, still clutched tightly to the woman’s chest. 

Immediately, a pale hand shoots up and seizes Kara by the wrist. 

Three identical clicks! sound behind Kara as the rest of her team rushes forward with their guns drawn, but Kara remains calm. She can see the woman’s lips moving, struggling to form words. So, in a highly reckless move—one that would no doubt incur the wrath of her sister much, much later—Kara leans over, bringing her ear right to the woman’s lips. 

“I’m alive,” the woman rasps over and over again. “I’m alive, I’m alive, please don’t let me die.” 

"She’s alive!” Kara announces, throwing her hands out in a desperate attempt to the shield the woman’s body as much as possible. “Don’t shoot, she’s alive. We need to help her.” 

“Kara,” Brainy says hesitantly. “You know there’s a protocol for encountering other survivors...” 

And of course Kara does. It’s the same as the one for finding non-survivors, except in reverse order and lax about bullet conservation. It’s how they’ve managed to survive this long. 

But Kara’s never had to follow that particular protocol before, and now—with a near unconscious woman before her, literally begging to be saved—she wasn’t about to start either. 

“Grab her pack. Now,” she snaps when everyone else just gapes at her in a shocked silence. Eventually, Kara has to grab the rucksack herself and tosses it in Nia’s direction. Then, she throws the woman over her shoulders before shakily getting back to her feet. 

“Kara, they’re not going to let us back in if you bring her,” Brainy says in a quiet warning, but Kara just scoffs, readjusting her grip on the not-so-dead weight draped across her shoulders.

“That’s a later problem,” she says. “We��ll see when we get there.”

Mike refuses to let them back in. 

“Who or what-ever the fuck that is, take it back!” he roars from the watchtower. “Bash its fucking face in or something, or you’re not coming in!” 

“She needs help!” Kara shouts right back, angry, exhausted after bearing the weight of a-whole-nother person for miles on end. She of course didn’t ask anyone else to share the burden during the trek; she didn’t think anyone would have agreed to it anyway. “She’s still alive, goddammit, and she deserves to live!” 

The rest of her team chimes in then, hurling their own anger and frustrations up at Mike, laden with all sorts of colorful language. But still, he doesn’t budge. Until... 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let them in,” Alex demands as she rushes into the watchtower. “That’s Kara down there.” 

“They brought someone,” Mike says. 

Alex glances out the window, her eyes matching with Kara’s before narrowing at the unapproved tagalong still passed out in her arms. 

For a brief moment, Alex’s shoulders drop, and she looks as exhausted as Kara feels, and helpless, and lost... But even then,

“That’s Kara,” she repeats in a snarl, and she slams her hand down on the gate switch herself. 

Kara’s team rushes into the compound without her, no doubt putting as much distance as possible between them and the unknown woman. Honestly, Kara doesn’t blame them. They’ve all witnessed, firsthand, the horrifying consequences of not taking enough precautions, after all. 

Kara stumbles inside, her legs almost collapsing beneath her from overuse and fatigue, when Alex shows up at her side to catch her. 

“Kara, what the hell were you thinking?” 

“She’s alive, Alex,” Kara insists. “She’s still alive, and we have to help her.” 

“There’s protocol for a reason.” 

“I couldn’t do it.” 

Sighing, Alex just gives a grim nod and helps Kara carry the woman to the infirmary. 

Once they’ve gotten the woman off Kara’s aching shoulders and onto the medical table, Alex says they need to examine her body, check for any bites or scratches that would automatically preclude the need for further medical attention. At that point, even Kara wouldn’t be able to object putting a bullet through the woman’s head, whether or not she was still alive—whatever that even means these days. 

But as Alex fishes out a pair of latex gloves and Kara undoes the very first button of the woman’s ragged flannel, green eyes snap wide open, awake and alert. 

“Don’t touch me!” the woman immediately starts screaming, hands shoving and clawing at Kara’s face in equal measure. 

“Stop, stop, it’s okay, stop!” Kara catches the woman’s flailing arms, squeezing her wrists in a firm yet hopefully comforting grip. “I’m not going to hurt you! You’re okay! You’re safe!” 

“Kara, get back,” Alex says, but Kara doesn’t move a single muscle. She knows Alex must have a gun pointed at the woman. 

“She’s fine, Alex. Just scared,” Kara insists, even as the woman continues to struggle, attempting to break Kara’s grip. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” 

“Did she break skin?” 

“No!” Kara then tries to glance down at her own face without much success. “I don’t think so anyway. Listen, it’s fine.” She directs her next words, soothing and soft, down at the stranger. “You’re fine, okay?” 

The woman settles down then, body still trembling but no longer struggling. She seems to be timing her panicked breaths with Kara’s own, so Kara makes sure to keep her breathing steady and consistent as she speaks.

“What’s your name?” Kara asks. 

The woman’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, then she swallows and shakes her head. “... Lena.” 

Kara can’t help but flash a small smile. What a pretty name. “Hi, Lena. I’m Kara.” She nods at Alex, who’s only just lowering her weapon. “And that’s Alex over there. She’s my sister. And we saved you, okay? Well...” Kara gives a half-shrug. “I saved you. Really, I deserve all the credit, so.” 

“Where am I?” Lena asks in a croak. Her eyes are darting all over the room, seemingly in search for something. 

“Somewhere safe,” Kara says, continuing at Alex’s rather meaningful glare, “Hey, Lena, I’m going to let go of you now. You gonna be okay?” 

“Yes.” 

(next part here)

[ladyanput]

Clues to My Heart

 This is based off of a prompt I read from @thanks-captain-obvious back in December.

Thanks to @chocolate1721 and @2sunchild2 for finding all of my stupid mistakes.

---

Adrien didn’t know when he realized how cute Marinette was, but he came to realize that he was watching her a lot more than usual. He liked how when she was really deep into her designing zone, she stuck her tongue out in concentration. He adored how when she was getting nervous or embarrassed, she’d tug at one of her adorable pigtails. 

   

As soon as he entered the classroom that morning, Marinette was making her way down the steps. She tripped over her own foot and went tumbling forward, a look of horror washed over her face as she went plummeting. Adrien bolted forward and caught her in his arms, causing them to be nose to nose, gazing deep into each other’s eyes. Adrien couldn’t help but stare into her large, sapphire blue eyes staring back at him.

   

“Are you okay?” He breathed out, feeling his cheeks burn from embarrassment as he steadied her, then took a quick step back. “Good thing I was there to catch you.”

   

“Lucky me. Thank you, Adrien.” Marinette gave that warm, perfect smile before she picked up the pencil she had dropped and returned to her seat.

    “Marinette looks really cute today.” Adrien mumbled to himself in an almost dreamy tone, quickly catching both Alya and Nino’s attention. Before the model could say another word, the duo grabbed him and dragged him to the back of the class, while Marinette was lost in her drawing in her sketchbook while she waited for class to notice them leave. 

   

“You think she looks cute?” Alya pressed a hand to Adrien’s chest, giving him a stern look as her eyes watched his expression carefully. Then she saw the look he got on his face, the look she had seen on Marinette’s face for the past four years every time she thought, saw, or talked of Adrien. It was like seeing a little lovesick golden retriever and Alya wanted to laugh at the irony. But her eyes sparked with excitement at the thought of her ship finally, at long last, would come to life. “You need to tell her, Adrien.” 

   

“Wh-what? No, I can’t do that, she thinks we’re just friends!” Adrien squeaked, drawing the attention of their other classmates. Thank God Lila was off on another one of her ‘trips’ in Brazil or whatever. Rose suddenly ripped part of her shirt, making sure it was a decently sized one before she darted down to Marinette, tapping her shoulder. 

   

“Marinette, I ripped my favourite shirt! Do you have your sewing kit with you today?” Rose’s sweet voice took on a pleading tone as she grasped Marinette’s hand tightly, giving her a kind smile. 

   

“Oh, I should have it in my locker, but class will be starting soon…” Marinette trailed off, but when she saw the pleading look on Rose’s face, she let out a defeated sigh and got up. “Alright, I’ll go grab it right quick. You don’t mind telling Miss Bustier, right?”

   

“Don't worry, Mari, we’ll cover you!” Kim called out, having a plotting grin on his face as well. The entire class had that look in their eyes, thinking something they had been hoping for for so long would finally come to light.

   

When Marinette did leave the room, everyone swarmed around Adrien with big goofy grins on their faces.

   

“Marinette has had a crush on you for years, dude.” Kim wrapped an arm around Adrien’s shoulder, grinning like a fool as everyone else nodded in agreement. ‘We kept quiet about it out of respect, but since you feel the same way…”

   

Adrien’s mind felt like it was suddenly spinning. Marinette liked him back. Marinette liked him, Adrien Agreste, while he had thought she had hated being anywhere near him! And here he thought that she had been in love with Luka…

   

“Marinette is quite romantic at heart.” Alya’s voice pushed away his thoughts and made him refocus on the conversations going on wildly around him. The reporter’s eyes were full of mischief and Adrien could practically see the gears turning in her head, her grin growing more and more devious. “You should do a grand gesture, Adrien, something that will sweep her off her feet. Then when she accepts your confession, it will be like a fairytale!” 

   

“Like prince charming declaring his love for his princess.” Rose sighed dreamily and leaned into Juleka’s embrace, who kissed her forehead with a smile. “Oh Marinette would love that! She’s told all of us all of the things she’s wanted to do for you, Adrien, how many times she’s tried to confess…”

   

“How about a scavenger hunt?” Adrien blurted out, then felt his cheeks go rosy as he felt several eyes land on him, he gave a nervous smile as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You know, send her to places that were significant to her and I? Stuff like that?"

"That sounds pretty great, actually." Alix grinned as she thought it over before nodding. "Yeah, that'd kick ass."

With wide grins, the class began to plot the entire thing with a flustered, starry eyed Adrien.

…

They set it all up on Friday, so that if something went horribly wrong, they'd have the weekend to do damage control. Extra precautions never hurt anyone.

Alya managed to convince Marinette to clear her schedule for that evening, since she had a special game planned. Marinette, not wanting to turn her best friend down, wholeheartedly agreed. One afternoon never hurt anyway, she needed a bit of a break from everything that was going on.

As soon as the last class of the day ended, Alya handed the girl a piece of paper and told her to just follow the clues.

Marinette glanced down at the scrap of paper and carefully read the words.

'To where you have your secret Garden of inspiration, I often see your beautiful face light up in joy.'

Marinette's brows drew together at the wording of the note, then wracked her brain to where this 'garden of inspiration' could be. Then it hit her. The Trocadero.

She giggled as she made her way towards the location, curious at what kind of games Alya was playing. Her friend always came up with these random types of things on occasion, so she didn't look too much into it.

Marinette quickly arrived at the Trocadero, then smiled to herself as she made her through the crowd, enjoying the activity of people around her. She hadn't been here in months and she had missed it greatly.

"Excuse me, Miss Marinette?" The girl blinked and turned, seeing a tall, lanky looking woman stride up to her, holding a pink envelope. The woman grinned and tipped her tiny top hat as she held out the envelope. "I have your next clue."

"Oh, thank you." Marinette took the envelope and opened it, scanning the contents of what was written.

'While pyjamas were not the right thing to wear, so to say

Seeing that movie with you made my day.'

Marinette glanced heavenward, silently groaning at the state of these riddles. Alya certainly wasn't at her best today.

Besides, Marinette could think of only one movie she had seen in her pyjamas that wouldn't be appropriate, so she made her way to the cinema. While very glad she hadn't made many plans that evening, this scavenger hunt seemed to be taking her all over Paris. As soon as she saw the cinema in sight, she picked up the pace, 

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" A tall man wearing a suit strode over, holding out a familiar looking pink envelope. He gave her a jovial grin and bowed. "I hope you find your next location swiftly."

"Thank you very much." Marinette called out, then had to chuckle at the outfits these clue holders had to wear. Fancy suits and top hats were a bit much, how had Alya been able to pay for all of this?

'To where we first met, with gum on the seat

To think today, you make my heart skip a beat.'

"Tikki, I can't quite make this one out." Marinette sighed as she made her way down the street, Tikki poking her head out of Marinette's purse. "I think it means DuPont, I mean, that's where I first met Alya."

"Are you sure these are from Alya, Marinette? Maybe they're from someone else." Tikki smiled up at her chosen, having a fair idea who exactly these clues and this entire scheme was from, but she decided to keep quiet about it. It was best to simply let Marinette experience this on her own, have a bit of fun for once in a while.

So Marinette jogged her way towards DuPont, beaming as she reminisced in the memories. This was the starting place for everything in her life; her friends, her designing career, her backbone, and even becoming Ladybug.

This place was special to her. So imagine her surprise when she neared the front of the school and heard the sound of a bell. She stopped, and watched in surprise as Andre's ice cream cart made its way towards her, Andre having a huge smile on his face. He stopped right in front of Marinette, blocking her view of DuPont.

"Hello, my dear Marinette. It has been so long and look at you! Grown into a beautiful flower and who knows? Perhaps she will see her soulmate very soon" Andre said cheerfully, hugging the surprised girl, before giving her a long, calculated look. He had a gift, a gift of seeing one's soulmate. And Mr. Adrien Agreste had begged the man to be at the front of DuPont Françoise to give Marinette a serving of ice cream to show her who her soulmate was.

And who was Andre to get in the way of love? He had happily agreed, so eager to bring two souls together that were meant to be, bound by the red string of fate.

"Matcha for the eyes that makes your heart flutter, blackberry for his life cast in such chaos, and strawberry for the lips that makes you stutter." Andre said cheerily as he scooped up the ice cream, noting as the girl took out her phone and replying to a text, then happily handed it to Marinette, then patting her gently on the cheek. "I see great happiness for the two of you, for you both see each other with a love so true."

With that, Andre let her by, motioning her to the steps of DuPont. Marinette, considering just to go with it, took a taste of the delicious ice cream and went on her way, not before giving Andre a gracious thank you.

What she saw at the top of the steps of her old middle school was not what she had been expecting. She had been expecting Alya and a few of their friends with some weird prize or an explanation to all of this.

Instead there stood Adrien, holding a bouquet of roses and dressed dark khakis and a button up shirt. At the sight of her, his smile grew and his cheeks reddened, his excitement skyrocketing once he saw the colours of her ice cream. The rest of the class stood around him, looking eager as they took a few steps back as Marinette began to ascend the stairs.

"Adrien, were you the one behind all of this?" Marinette smiled at the blushing model, taking another spoonful of her ice cream, noting Alya recording them from the corner of her eye. "I have to say, that was a pretty impressive scavenger hunt you did. What's my prize?"

The words caused Adrien's blush to get worse and he began to fiddle with the bouquet, trying to get out the speech he had practiced over and over in his head.

“Marinette… I um… I’ve always thought of you as a friend, you know? But not just any friend, my best friend actually…You’re just…” He tightened his grip on the bouquet. “You’re just so amazing, and kind, and wonderful. You’re like an everyday Ladybug to us, always there to help, even when it’s for something really stupid. And you’re always there for me… I’ve been told you’ve done a few things for me that I’ve … I may have been too blind to notice. It uh, it took me until today to realize that you’re the most important person in my life. You’re the first one to really, truly understand me."

"Oh Adrien, that's so sweet. You're just as great, you're always so kind. That's what I love about you." Marinette smiled her brilliant smile and Adrien felt his heart thundering in his chest. Her words gave him courage and he puffed out his chest. 

Finally, he'd tell his Princess exactly how he felt.

Many of the girls squealed and hugged each other, while the guys gave Adrien thumbs-ups or fist bumped each other.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I- I am in l- love.."

The revving of an engine cut him off, making the entire class stare as an expensive looking motorcycle parked at the base of the school steps.

The tall figure on the bike got off and took off his helmet. Adrien met the most piercing pair of green eyes he had ever seen. The young man was handsome, with spiky black hair and a jawline that could certainly cut glass.

"Who is he?" Alya whispered to Nino as the guy set down his helmet and seemed to wave at the group, a smile crossing his handsome face. "Does anyone here know him?"

As everyone began to give their negatives, Adrien watched as Marinette's face lit up and she bolted down the stairs.

"Damian, you're here!" She cried as she launched herself into the guy -Damian's- arms, though was careful not to spill her ice cream. She giggled as he kissed her cheek, then kissed his in return. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find the place."

"You do give perfect directions, Angel, I was able to find it easily enough." The two of them shared a quick kiss and Adrien felt his heart drop to the floor and shatter.

"Marinette, who is this?" Alya piped up, carefully putting away her phone as she made her way down the steps, everyone else following suit.

"Oh, sorry Al, this is my boyfriend, Damian. He's visiting this week from America." Marinette beamed as Damian casually wrapped an arm around her waist. "I was going to introduce you all to him once we got him settled."

"You have a boyfriend?!" Adrien blurted out before he could stop himself, then flushed in embarrassment as Marinette and Damian focused their gazes on him, the former curious and the latter observant. "I mean, um, you've never mentioned him before…"

"Well, we met a few years ago, around our second year at DuPont actually, when I went away for the summer with my grandmother, and we kinda hit it off." Marinette explained happily, holding up her ice cream to allow Damian to have a taste.

The second year of their time at DuPont Françoise.

The very year he began to date Kagami in order to get over Ladybug.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Really? I thought you were still keeping your eye out for someone." Alya motioned towards Adrien with her eyes, only earning a small, though slightly tired smile from Marinette.

"Well I decided that you can't wait around for miracles to never happen." Marinette shrugged, and Damian met Adrien's gaze. Then he merely rose a brow and smirked a bit.

Those who acted too slowly lost the game.

"Anyway, that was a fun game, Adrien, I had a lot of fun. Now Damian and I have to get back to the bakery, Papa wanted to show him how to make the perfect palmier tonight to finally outclass Alfred's cooking." Marinette tossed the empty cone into the nearby trash, then caught the helmet that Damian tossed her. The couple shared another soft kiss before both got on the bike.

Marinette gave her friends one final wave before Damian drove off, leaving the class in stunned silence.

Adrien watched dejectedly as the girl he had fallen in love with drove off with her new boyfriend.

But he had seen the colours of her ice cream, that meant he was her soulmate.

That he wasn't too late, that maybe… He still had a chance with her?

Right?

---

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

[jobrookekarev]

Falling Because of You

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 7100

Summary: Jo and Alex are doing their best to keep her pregnancy under wraps until Jo faints in the OR and their exciting secret slowly gets out to everyone.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Karev, and Atticus Lincoln/Amelia Shepherd. 

Characters: Jo Wilson Karev, Alex Karev, Carina DeLuca, Atticus Lincoln, Amelia Shepherd, Miranda Bailey, Maggie Pierce, Meredith Grey, Nurse Ginger, Sara Ortiz, and Levi Schmitt.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Fainting, Surgery, Pregnancy, Vomiting, Jo's pregnant there's bound to be puke, and Tiny Baby Booties.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: There's a running joke about Jo being a princess or a warrior queen on the show and Camilla played Kate Middleton in a movie, so I figured giving Jo the same thing Kate had would add some extra drama.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo was in her happy place. Many surgeons had a favorite procedure or OR that they liked and for Jo, it was this. She was in OR 3 separating blood vessels between two twins that had Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. She was essentially turning their one placenta into two and it was her new favorite thing. Ever since the pandemic started the one thing that didn't change was their work in the OR. They still took extra precautions cleaning and sanitizing, but they had already had all the essential PPE for surgery and stepping into the OR felt like a little bit of normalcy that Jo had missed over the past year. 

Along with the pandemic changing everything, Jo changed specialties and she was now in her last few months as an OB/GYN fellow.  This was her second time doing the procedure and it was going beautifully, despite the dizziness she'd had for the past few days. It was a side effect of the medication for her Hyperemesis Gravidarum that Carina had given her. Which wasn't working as Jo had barely kept down her breakfast and had thrown up at lunch. She was supposed to talk to Carina when she got out of surgery and hopefully, she could make it till then. 

Jo loved her baby so much that it made her heart swell. The tiny pea inside of her had captured her heart and the amount of love she had for them already surprised her. The only other person she loved this much was Alex, but just like Alex did, they got on her nerves sometimes. Like when she was trying to concentrate in the middle of surgery, but the baby had decided to make the room spin as she fought with them to keep her balance.

The dizziness and nausea weren’t so bad as they didn’t occur very often, but Alex was still worried about her. So much so that he had gotten Meredith to keep an annoyingly close eye on her, but Meredith had her own surgery. Jo was on her own for a few hours and was determined to get through this surgery. She was halfway done having, paused when twin A decided to move in front of the camera.

“This is so cool!” Levi exclaimed, his eyes were glued to the monitor as he moved the camera and watched her work. 

Levi was on her service today and had scrubbed in with her as he wanted to see what drew her to OB/GYN and fetal surgery. Jo smiled as he moved the camera and they got a glimpse of the twin’s face before he moved the camera back to look at the placenta. She had been on her feet all day and it was beginning to take its toll on her. She looked up at the clock for the first time since the procedure started, not wanting to miss a second of it, but then her vision faded around the edges. 

Jo blinked a few times and then looked over at Levi. “Schmitt stop.”

“Is everything okay Dr. Karev?”

“No,” Jo said, letting go of the instruments and stepping back from the table. 

Jo took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she put one hand on her belly as if it would calm her baby. Usually, all she had to do was pause and take a few deep breaths or sit down, but this was different. Her vision darkened and things faded around the edges. As the lightheadedness made her feel weary and Jo reached out to put her hand on the table.

Jo blinked and realized that she was laying in the recovery position on the OR floor, all of the nurses and other staff were leaning over her. She had no idea how she ended up on the floor or why everyone was around her, she just felt heavy and tired and hot all over. Despite the cold OR, Jo was sweating in her gown and one of the nurses put an ice pack on the back of her neck.

“Welcome back Dr. Karev,” Nurse Ginger said, squatting down next to Jo, her eyes wrinkling as she smiled under her mask.

All of the nurses were talking above her as Ginger kneeled beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Jo was too weak to do anything and was still a little out of it as she lay there and someone put a square alcohol wipe under her nose. She tried to breathe it in and let it rouse her, but all Jo wanted to do was rest on the nice cold floor.

“Dr. Karev? Is she all right?” Levi asked, panic filling his voice.

“She'll be fine Dr. Schmitt, just wait here for Dr. DeLuca,” Ginger said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Should we get her up on the gurney?” One of the other scrub nurses asked. 

“Yes, but let's give her some ammonia inhalants first to see if we can revive her more,” Ginger said, putting a packet of smelling salts a few inches from her nose. 

The smelling salts did their job as Jo felt more alert and lifted up her head to look around the OR. 

“Ugh that stuff is terrible,” Jo said, as the ammonia burnt her nose and mouth and she tilted her head away.

“There we go,” Ginger said, patting Jo’s shoulder. “Alright let's get her on the gurney.”

“I thought you died!” Levi yelled, from where he stood on the other side of the patient. 

“I’m fine,” Jo insisted as the nurses stripped off her surgery gown and gloves leaving only her mask.

Several of the nurses lifted her up onto the gurney and Jo thought she'd die of embarrassment if she ever regained her strength. She stared up at the ceiling and the doorway out of the OR as they wheeled her out. Ginger remained at her side and smiled down at her. She put a reassuring hand on Jo’s arm while one of the other nurses took her blood pressure.

“What happened?” Carina asked as Jo heard her footsteps run up the hall. Jo looked up at Carina as she reached down to take Jo’s hand.

“She fainted, but one of the other nurses caught her so she didn’t hit her head,” Ginger said to Carina as she tilted her head.

“I can’t get a read on her BP,” the other nurse said, releasing the pressure on the cuff.

“I’ll try once we get her settled,” Ginger said with a nod as the other nurse disappeared. 

“Jo, how are you feeling?” Carina asked as Jo looked to her left to see Carina looking down at her, wearing her scrub cap and mask.

“Tired, but okay. I am okay right?” Jo said as she breathed a sigh of relief when Carina nodded. Jo hated being fussed over by Carina and Alex, but Jo would happily let them fuss over her now. 

“Fainting is a common sight in pregnancy. Pregnant women faint all the time, I had one faint on me last week, but it could be your meds too, so let me give you a check up after I finish your procedure. I did page Alex, but he’s in an emergency surgery so they will tell him when he’s done,” Carina said, putting a hand on her arm and giving it a light squeeze as Jo nodded. As much as she wanted Alex his work was important and she didn’t want him worried about her during surgery. “Is there anyone else you would like me to get for you?”

“Yeah, can you page Link or just Meredith, she knows I’m pregnant,” Jo asked, Carina nodded and one of the other nurses ran off. “What about my patient?” 

Jo lifted up onto her arms, which was a terrible mistake and only brought back the dizziness as her stomach churned. 

“Your patient is completely fine,” Ginger said, as she and Carina put a hand on her shoulders and pushed her back down. 

“I'm going to go scrub in, now but when I’m done I shall come and see you,” Carina said, rubbing her arm as she smiled down at her. “In the meantime take it easy and let Ginger take care of you.” 

Carina looked down at her and her eyes crinkled as she smiled under her mask. Ever since Jo switched specialties and started her fellowship with Carina the two of them had become close friends. Carina was excited for Jo’s pregnancy if not extra precautious when it came to her pregnancy care.

“Karev,” Dr. Bailey's booming voice yelled at them from the end of the hall. “What is this I hear about you fainting in my OR.” 

“Good luck Jo,” Carina said, making a quick exit back into the OR. 

“No, don't leave me,” Jo said, reaching out to her in the hope that she would save her from Bailey's wrath. Carina hesitated, but just sent her a wink as she disappeared inside. Jo grumbled as she looked back at Chief Miranda Bailey storming towards her. “I'm sorry Dr. Bailey I have this headache and it makes me dizzy.”

That was the excuse they had been using, the past few weeks as they tried to hide Jo’s pregnancy. So far most of their friends and coworkers bought it, but Link was highly suspicious and Jo suspected that he would figure it out sooner or later. 

“A headache!” Bailey said putting her hands on the side of the gurney. With her clear helmet face mask respirator they called the space helmet she leaned over Jo in a truly terrifying way as Jo sunk back into the bed. “You willingly stepped into an OR with a headache that was messing with your abilities as a surgeon, leaving a third-year resident to continue your procedure.”

“Schmitt continued the procedure!” Jo said sitting up again, which in combination with her recent fainting and the movement of the gurney was not a good idea. 

Jo's stomach churned and before she knew it, she was pulling down her mask and leaning over the side of the railing to throw up all over Bailey's shoes. She stared down at the white hearts and pink flowers on Bailey's surgical clogs that were now splattered with vomit, fearful to look up. Bailey stepped away from her and Jo slowly lowered herself back down to lay on her side. Ginger gave her a tissue to wipe her mouth with and Jo put her mask back on as she cursed herself for getting into this situation. 

“I have not been vomited on since I was a fourth-year resident,” Bailey said in astonishment as Jo curled up and tried to hide on the gurney. “Ginger, take her to a recovery room and paged Shepherd for a Neuro check.”

“That’s not necessary,” Jo argued, but Bailey silenced her with a look and Jo resigned herself to lay back and shut up.

“And tell the other Dr. Karev to take her home when he gets here,” Bailey said before she left.

Jo squeezed her eyes shut, holding her stomach, and begged whatever forces were at work that she wouldn't embarrass herself again today. Thankfully for her, Ginger remained quiet for the rest of their ride down the hall.

“Hey Jo,” Link said, placing a hand on her shoulder as Jo looked up to see a huge grin across his face through the space helmet he was wearing. “I heard you threw up on the Chief.”

“Ugh don't remind me,” Jo said, swatting at his arm. “Or I'll throw up on you too.”

“Hey, don’t jinx it,” Link said, pulling back and helping Ginger push her gurney down the hall. “I've already been spit up on twice today.” 

Jo laughed, knowing that her godson was particularly prone to spit up and at this rate, it looked like her kid would be too. Link smiled down at her, putting his hand back on her arm and rubbing up and down as they parked her inside of an empty recovery room. 

Link looked around and grabbed a chair before sitting down beside her. “Jo, you passed out in an OR. Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well.”

“I'm fine,” Jo said, brushing him off and ignoring his concerned look. 

“Fainting is not fine Jo!” Lincoln said, giving her a look. “And if Alex were here, I'm sure he'd agree with me.”

“I’m sure Dr. Karev will be just fine,” Ginger said, with a knowing nod. “I’ll get you some juice and be right back.”

Jo smiled and whispered thanks to her, as she left. Link took off the helmet and put it on the bedside table, but pulled a mask out of his pocket for when Ginger returned and Jo took off her mask as well. The two of them had both been vaccinated and both of their families had been co-quarantined together for the past two months, but given that the pandemic was still ongoing they were still taking precautions at work.

As soon as she looked over at Link she sighed. Jo knew he wouldn’t let it go and that Alex would do the same. Alex was too worried for her and she knew she'd get twice as much concern and nagging from him. At least with her husband, she could kiss him to make his grumpy look go away. 

They heard a knock at the door and Jo saw Amelia peek her head in and Jo bit her lip trying to think of a way to get out of this before Ginger got back. “Hey Jo, I heard you threw up on Bailey’s shoes.”

Jo groaned, putting her hands over her face as her cheeks turned pink. She wasn’t surprised that her puking incident with Dr. Bailey’s shoes had spread all over the hospital. With how the current gossip cycle worked Jo would be the subject of whispers and ridicule for weeks.

“And she fainted in the OR,” Lincoln added, ignoring the glare that she sent his way.

“Yeah I heard about that too,” Amelia said, adopting the look of a more concerned doctor rather than a friend as she stepped into the room and took off her mask. “Bailey paged me and said she was concerned about you. What happened?”

Jo looked over at Link and grabbed his hand. As much as she wanted him there, she didn’t want him knowing she was pregnant just yet. “Can you go grab my bag from my locker and check on Alex? He’s in surgery, but can you see how much longer he’ll be?” 

Link looked confused but nodded and squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”

Link left, but not before he and Amelia exchanged a few whispered words and a parting kiss. Jo tried to slowly sit up and Amelia put down the railing and moved the upper part of the bed into a reclined position as she came closer to examine her. Jo felt exhausted and still faint as she leaned back against the bed. She put a hand on her belly remembering her tiny sweet pea sized baby inside of her. Jo thought it best to just tell Amelia the truth and hoped she could keep it a secret, even from Link.

“I'm ten weeks pregnant, on top of that I have Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Carina put me on medication because the weekend we found out I was pregnant, I threw up non-stop and by the time we came in I was dehydrated. I’ve been dizzy before, but I've never fainted and Carina said she’d check on me once she’s finished with the surgery.”

“Oh my god, you're pregnant!” Amelia said with a smile as she leaned over to hug her. “We’ve all been waiting for you and Alex to have a kid. You must be so excited, congratulations.”

“Thank you, we’re really excited as well,” Jo said, smiling as Amelia hugged her. “But can you keep it on the down-low and not tell Link. We aren’t telling everybody yet, only Meredith and Carina know.”

“Yeah, of course, and that makes sense as to why you fainted. So since you're the OB Fellow what would you recommend as a course of action for your care, Dr. Karev?” Amelia said with a smile as she handed Jo the tablet with her chart. 

“I want a fetal doppler to check the baby's heartbeat and a pelvic exam just in case. Ginger said she'd bring by some apple juice and crackers, but I don't think I'll be able to keep it down so I'd prescribed Ondansetron for my nausea as it’s worked in the past,” Jo said in putting her orders into her chart and sending out a page to Sasha the only OB Resident she trusted to give her an exam other than Carina and instructed her to bring down the fetal doppler. 

“Sounds good, but let me check you out just in case,” Amelia said, grabbing the BP cuff that was still wrapped around Jo’s arm and pulling out his stethoscope as she grasped her wrist to take her blood pressure. 

“Is a full exam really necessary,” Jo sighed, tilting her head as Amelia wrote down her BP in the tablet. 

“If you want me to keep this from Link, yes,” Amelia said, raising her eyebrow. Jo smiled and sat back as Amelia continued to examine her and had Jo grip her hands. “Why haven’t you told him yet?”

“I love Link, but he freaked out when he found out you were pregnant and I already have Alex fussing over me, I don't need Link to do it too and it's nice to have the baby just be mine and Alex’s,” Jo said as she smiled and looked down at her hand over her baby. 

“I get that,” Amelia said, giving her a soft smile as Amelia undid the BP cuff and had her touch Amelia’s finger and then her nose. “Have you experienced any headaches?” 

“No, and no other neurological effects apart from the dizziness,” Jo said as she sat back Amelia checked her pupils.

“Okay, well your reflexes and grip are good, and your BP is back to normal,” Amelia said, pulling back and putting her stethoscope around her neck. 

Sasha came down and gave her a quick pelvic exam. Jo hated having to change into a gown and that Amelia officially admitted her as a patient, but for the sake of her baby, she complied. She wasn't dilated or bleeding so Jo sent her away, opting to do the fetal heartbeat check herself. Amelia moved the bed back down as she warmed up the gel packet in her hands. Jo undid the strings of her scrub pants and tucked the blue towel into the hem of her pants. Jo then pulled up her shirt and laid back as Amelia poured the now warm gel onto her belly. 

“Okay, I have no idea how to do this. The last time I did a fetal doppler I was a resident,” Amelia said handing Jo the doppler.

“That's okay, I’ve done it a hundred times at work, and after we heard the heartbeat the first time I borrowed one from the hospital. Alex and I listen to it every night. I’m usually able to find it over here...” 

Jo trailed off as she moved the doppler over her belly to the spot where the heartbeat was last night and sure enough, the strong sound of her baby's heartbeat filled the room. Jo smiled as she listened to it, completely forgetting to pay attention and count the heartbeats.

“Your baby's heart rate is 172 beats per minute which is normal for ten weeks when the BPM is at its highest around 170. Your baby's heart rate is steady and strong,” Amelia said, smiling as she wrote it down on the tablet. “You and Alex must have already started work on the nursery then. Are you gonna expand on the space you have set up for when Scout stays over?”

Jo let out a breath of relief, knowing that her baby was healthy and okay, but kept the doppler on her belly, enjoying the sound of her baby's heartbeat. “Kind of, but we're thinking of buying a house. The loft and neighborhood aren’t really kid-friendly, but Alex’s mom, Helen, has sent out a dozen little baby hats and booties. She said she’s even working on a baby blanket for us as well.”

“Is there anything in particular you guys want? I loved the Snoo and those little WubbaNubs. Oh, I’ll get you the monkey one! Also, are you having a baby shower? After you tell people of course,” Amelia smiled as Jo finally handed her the doppler and exchanged it for a few paper towels so she could wipe off the gel. 

“I’d love the monkey one, Alex will get a kick out of it, and yes we're planning on having a baby shower, I’ve attended five on the OB floor so far and I want one of my own,” Jo said, balling up the tissues and the towel and pulling her scrub top back down before putting her hand over her baby. “And my patients always give me their recommendations for the best baby products. I've been writing it all down ever since Alex and I started trying so I have a full registry now.” 

“Well email me the link and I'll try and get you something good because Auntie Amelia gives all the best gifts,” Amelia said, with a smile and a little giggle that was infectious as Jo laughed. 

When Amelia started dating Link, Jo wasn’t sure how she’d fit as Amelia joined Jo and Link's family. In the past year, they had grown closer. So close that Link often complained that Jo was replacing him with Amelia as her best friend. Amelia put the doppler in the drawer next to her, so she could check the baby's heart rate again if necessary. Jo thought she was done until Amelia pulled out a thermometer from the drawer and ran it across her forehead.

“Any other symptoms, any fevers?”

“No.”

“You’ve been fatigued and have been complaining of back pain and heartburn,” Link said as he walked into the room and took off his mask. He handed her the bag, giving her a look as Jo scoffed at him and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, because I have a cold and a puppy that refuses to walk down the stairs so we have to carry him,” Jo insisted, setting Link with a look before. 

“Well I’m sure Reeses will learn to navigate the stairs eventually,” Amelia said, hiding her smile as she dipped her chin, but she sent Jo a wink and she knew Amelia would keep her secret. “Well you’re not running a fever now and it looks like just a cold, but I want to run some labs and double check since you did faint and threw up. I also think you’re dehydrated again so let’s start an IV.”

Jo sighed, she was frustrated that her medication wasn't working and worried for her baby's development. She looked down and realized she was still holding her belly and moved her hand to take her wedding rings off the necklace. She always put them on the necklace Alex had given her for Christmas, during surgery and slipped them to her finger now. 

“Is Alex out of surgery yet?”

“No, I just checked, but he should be out pretty soon,” Link said, sitting down next to her and reaching out to hold her fidgeting hand. 

“Do you have surgery or anything?” Jo asked, trying to seem nonchalant and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Nope,” Link said, relaxing back and settling in. “I’ve already pushed it and put Nico in charge, but I can go if you want to be alone?” 

“I suppose you can stay,” Jo shrugged, but gave him a thankful smile as he squeezed her hand. 

Amelia left, but not before Link tried to get more out of her, but Amelia just patted his cheek and gave him a kiss before she left. Jo had seen Link in love a few times, but not like this. Amelia was good for him, she was a tiny firecracker that brought some excitement to Link’s life and forced him to let loose a little bit. With Amelia and Scout, Link finally had the family he always wanted and Jo was so happy for him.

Ginger came back and she set Jo up with IV fluids, some apple juice, a few crackers, and the Ondansetron so she could keep it all down. As Amelia had officially admitted her, Ginger put a hospital bracelet on her wrist, which thankfully only said that she was under observation and listed her wool allergy. 

Dr. Sara Ortiz came by to take the blood sample, and thankfully Jo didn't faint again. However, Ginger made her wear a stupid fall risk bracelet, that Link wouldn’t let her cut off. In exchange for Jo promising to keep it on Link grabbed her an extra blanket straight from the warmer. Since she would be stuck there for another few hours, Jo curled up on the bed as She and Link talked for a while until Alex came rushing in.

“Jo,” Alex breathed out, a look of desperation across his face as he rushed over to her tearing off his mask.

Jo sat up and let herself be enveloped by Alex's hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. She heard the door open and saw Link sneak out before she hid her face in Alex’s shoulder.

“We’re fine, the baby and I are fine.”

“You passed out in an OR, you're clearly not fine!” Alex exclaimed as he looked her over. 

“Alex,” Jo said, placing a hand on his cheek. He instantly melted. His eyes growing soft, his shoulders slumped as he leaned into her hand. Jo smiled as he softened for her. “The baby made me dizzy and that’s all it is. We’re fine, I promise.”

“I know, but please don’t scare me like that again,” Alex shook his head. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you or the baby.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, okay, come here,” Jo said, pulling him over to sit next to her. 

“My heart just dropped the second Amelia told me,” Alex said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leaning his head against hers as he put his hand on her stomach. “You should have gotten me sooner Hayes could have finished my surgery.”

“Link said that it was an emergency surgery and that they couldn't pull you out without risking the patient,” Jo said, closing her eyes as she put her hand over Alex's. “If it’d make you feel better, you could go yell at a resident for my labs so we can get out of here.”

“Which one?”

“Baby Ortiz.”

Alex smiled and shook his head. “Bailey said not to scare the Interns anymore.”

“Well it looks like you won't have to anyway,” Jo said, looking past him to see the back of Ortiz's head outside the window as she waited patiently. 

Alex got up as they put on their masks and let Ortiz in. Meanwhile, Link, Bailey, Maggie, Jackson, Richard, Andrew, Levi, Helm, and even Owen, waited outside. Jo saw Alex’s phone ping as a text from Meredith demanding an update flashed across the screen. She looked out at everyone waiting outside, Jo never thought that she would have so many people in her life who cared about her.

Alex reached for the paperwork in Ortiz’s hand, but she pulled back. “Perhaps Dr. Karev would prefer to be given her results alone and then inform you later Dr. Karev.”

Alex shook his head but looked over at her, asking permission to stay and Jo nodded. He closed the door before coming back to sit on the bed beside her. Jo then looked at Ortiz as she opened the tablet in her hand, giving it to her. 

“Your blood results are clear of infection, or any other concerns, but it also showed elevated HCG levels consistent with a pregnancy of ten weeks gestation.”

Jo and Alex looked at each other and then back at Ortiz before they started to giggle. “We know.”

“You know,” Ortiz said, looking at them wide eyed as Alex tried to stifle a laugh. 

“Of course I know. I’m an OB/GYN, we’ve been trying for a baby and we found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago. Now can you please go get Carina so I can get out of here!” Jo yelled at them as she was frustrated that everyone was overreacting. Alex however, seemed to find it absolutely hilarious and let out a full laugh as Ortiz turned pale. 

Ortiz scurried out of the room and straight into Carina who came and looked over at Jo and Alex in the bed. She shut the door behind her as she took them in. “What is going on?”

Jo looked over and Alex as he laughed, his laughter was infectious as she realized it was all so ridiculous and laughed with him. She smiled wider than she had in a long time and she was giddy with laughter as she looked over at Alex. 

“God Jo, I've never been so worried about you,” Alex said, shaking his head with a laugh. “And only to find out that you're just pregnant.”

“I know, I know, and I fainted. I know it's concerning, but it's just my pregnancy, right?” Jo asked as she looked over at Carina who had picked up her chart and was reading it.

Carina giggled as well as she nodded and looked over the chart. “I agree with your conclusion Dr. Karev, you are indeed fine, but I suggest we switch your medication to something else as it is clearly not working for you. I heard about Dr. Bailey’s shoes. I'll have the new prescription sent down to the pharmacy that you can pick up right away. I suggest you take the day off and relax, but feel free to come in to work tomorrow. I want to keep a close eye on you and monitor you on the new meds. I see that Dr. Shepherd had cleared you and that you were a little dehydrated earlier hence the IV, and as soon as it’s finished you may go.” 

“Thank you, Dr. DeLuca,” Jo said, giving her mentor a nod. Carina patted her leg before she left and Jo turned back to Alex as they took off their masks. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Hey it's okay, you're pregnant and your meds aren’t working, it's a lot,” Alex said, rubbing his thumb on her stomach from where it was still on her belly. “You’ll finish your IV and we’ll go home, take the rest of the day off, and spend some time with Reeses. You’ll take your new meds and that should help with the Hyperemesis Gravidarum and the dizziness, then we’ll go back to work tomorrow and everything will be okay. In the meantime, I'm going to take care of you, while you take care of yourself and our baby.”

His eyes and his smile were soft and Jo just nodded, leaning in to kiss him and relax against his lips. She pulled back, but he kissed her again as she laughed, she leaned her head on his chest and put her hand over his, on her belly. Even if she wasn’t showing yet, their baby was there and she couldn't wait to feel them move inside of her.

Alex nodded and leaned down to kiss her head. He couldn’t seem to keep his lips off of her, but Jo was still tired and was content to lay in his arms. Jo soon closed her eyes and the rest of the world drifted away. She listened to the sound of Alex breathing in and out and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. Alex let her sleep till the IV bag was finished and Jo woke up to Ginger taking her IV out. 

“I never did say congratulations,” Ginger whispered to her, putting a cotton ball over her IV sight and Jo gave her a sleepy nod.

Jo slowly woke up and Alex grabbed her things from her locker in the lounge so Jo could change back into her clothes. They figured that their laughing had let their friends know that Jo was okay and they weren't surprised to see that none of them had stuck around outside the room.

“Well, what is it? What happened? Are you and the baby okay?” Meredith asked the door swinging open as she flew into the room still in her mask, surgery cape, and scrub cap. 

“The baby and I are fine, I just fainted because of my meds,” Jo assured her as Alex finished tying her shoes and stood up putting a hand on her back. 

“You're fine and the babies’ fine,” Meredith said as she let out a sigh of relief and walked over to Jo.

“Yes, we’re both fine,” Jo sighed as she nodded and Meredith enveloped her into a hug. 

Alex cleared his throat before he turned to look at her, he wasn’t used to being Meredith's second favorite as she fussed over Jo now that she was pregnant. “We're going to go home for the rest of the day.”

“Okay good, you should rest, why don't I bring over some dinner for you tonight?” Meredith said, as Alex and Jo exchange to look. “I never said I'd cook, I'll pick some pizza and drop it off around six, Maggie is taking Zola and Ellis to a Girl Scout’s meeting tonight, so it’s just me and Bailey. If you want I'm sure Bailey and I could take Reeses for a walk at the park.”

“That’d be great. I'm sure Reeses would love to play with him,” Jo said, as she grabbed Alex’s hand and stood up.

“Good,” Meredith said as her eyes sparkled with joy. “You two are such a good Auntie and Uncle to my kids and I can’t wait to be an Auntie to your baby.”

Jo and Alex exchanged a look and Jo could tell that he was smiling under his mask just like she was. They had been Aunt Jo and Uncle Alex to Meredith’s kids for so long. Babysitting them whenever she needed them too, taking them on day trips around Seattle, getting them whatever they wanted, and then hopping them up on sugar before giving them back to her. Meredith always talked about how much she would spoil their kids when they finally had them, giving them a taste of their own medicine.

Link knocked on the door looking between them with raised eyebrows before his eyes settled on Jo.

“It's just a cold, I’m fine,” Jo insisted, despite how she knew she wasn't the least bit convincing.

“We heard you two laughing from the hall. The whole hospital knows you're pregnant,” Link said and Jo could see several of their friends behind them. “You up for any visitors?” 

Jo just nodded and sat back down on the bed as Link opened the door. Amelia, Maggie, Jackson, Bailey, Richard, Owen, Levi, Helm, and several of the other doctors and nurses came in and crowded around her bed as Jo sat back down. She looked over at Alex who just smiled as he put his arm around her waist. 

“Congratulations!” Everyone shouted as they all took turns hugging her and Alex.

“Congratulations, I'm glad you're okay. We were all so worried. You are okay right,” Maggie said, hugging Jo before she pulled back and grabbed her wrist to check her pulse.

“I’m fine,” Jo said, but let Maggie do it anyway.

“Are you sure, because fainting isn't necessarily neurological related it could also indicate a heart issue,” Maggie asked, still looking at her with a look of concern. 

“I'm fine, I’m just pregnant,” Jo insisted as she looked over at Alex and Jo put her hand on his knee as he squeezed her hand. 

Their friends continued to offer congratulations and fussed over Jo as she assured them she was fine. Regardless they all vowed to keep an eye on her and offered their help for whenever she would need it. Jo expected nothing less from a room full of doctors but was happy that she could relax. She could barely pretend that she wasn’t exhausted at the end of the day and now no one would bat an eye if she took a nap at lunchtime. Even if it meant Alex would be able to hover over her more than he already did. 

“This is so exciting!” Link said, pulling Jo in for a hug. “I thought Scout would be the only baby of the hospital running around after his big cousins and now he can have a friend, and me I need a parenting friend. I mean Amelia too but mostly me.”

“You’re welcome?” Jo said she wasn’t sure if he was excited for her or just excited that he wouldn't be parenting alone.

Link let her go and Bailey walked over to her, setting her with a look through her helmet as Jo bit her lip, thankful that her mask covered her expression.

“So you're having a baby,” Bailey said, Jo thought she'd be in trouble for keeping her pregnancy a secret from the chief, but Bailey just smiled and put a hand on her arm. “Congratulations, Dr. Karev, although you’ve probably heard that a million times by now.”

“Pretty much, but it hasn't gotten old yet,” Jo said as she relaxed and leaned against Alex who automatically put his arm around her waist although he was still talking with Meredith. 

“It never does,” Bailey said with a bright smile that Jo easily matched, sharing in her excitement. “Just try not to throw up on my shoes again?”

“I will aim for the floor instead,” Jo said, with a solemn nod.

“Um-hum,” Bailey hummed, but smiled and Jo knew she was forgiven.

Things turned into a small party as everyone ran out and got balloons, and flowers, and teddy bears, even a few onesies and hats. Ever since they had all been vaccinated the restrictions around the attendings being able to be in groups together had relaxed. Which meant that everyone used any excitement as an excuse to crowd around and have a little party. It had been a hell of a year and they could all use a little excitement. It only ended when everyone was pulled into a massive trauma. Finally, around 4:00 pm they walked out of the hospital, with more flowers and teddy bears than they knew what to do with. Their plan was to take the flowers home to die and relax on the couch. 

As they passed the gift shop Jo paused and pulled Alex in. There was a pair of the cutest baby booties in the window that she had been staring at the past few weeks. Now that everyone knew she could get them without anyone questioning her purchases or someone starting a rumor. Even if Jo knew that the baby would just kick the booties off the second she put them on, as she put them in Alex's hands they both knew that they couldn’t resist. Cindy in the gift store packaged them up with a knowing look and told them congratulations before they walked out of the hospital. 

Once they got home and changed out of their work clothes, Jo took the baby booties out and cut off the tags. She cleared out one of their clothes shelves and placed the onesies, hats, and booties on the now empty shelf, then she laid down on the bed and just stared at them. Alex put her things away and ran across the hall to Layla’s to get Reeses, who bounded into the loft before he culled up next to her and Alex laid down next to her too, staring at the baby clothes on the shelf.

“We're going to need a bigger clothes cabinet.” 

Jo smiled and squeezed his hand from where it rested on her belly, before rolling over to look at Alex as he stared down at her.

“We're going to buy a house, one with a backyard and a swing set and a playroom for all their toys that is never going to be clean. We're going to start using our vacation days and we're gonna go to the zoo and the aquarium and museums, and the beach and we’ll go camping and to freaking Disneyland and all of those vacations that we never got to take as kids. Promise me, we're going to give our kid everything that we never got as children and that we’re going to love them more than anything in this world.”

Jo staring intently into his eyes and Alex nodded, looking more serious than she had ever seen. “I promise.”

“And after the baby is born, I need you to take paternity leave with me and once we go back to work we're going to adjust our hours. We’ll do the 4 on 3 off, days. It'll be 12 hour shifts and we'll be on call some nights, but we'll get the weekends off and it'll be just us and the baby. And when they get older and go to school we can work more but for now, we need to make time for them. We need to promise that we'll always take time for them regardless of our careers. I know we can do it because I’ve seen Meredith do it. We have to try, we have to be better than our birth parents and our crappy foster parents. We have to be there for our kid.”

“Yes, I promise, listen to me Jo,” Alex said, putting one arm around her, but keeping the other on her belly as he pulled her close, and rested his forehead against hers. “You and me, we're going to be better than the people who raised us. Our kid is going to have so much more than we ever had. We're not going to be perfect, but we’ll be good and our kid will be loved and safe. They’ll grow up in a good home and I’ll work to make sure of that, I promise.”

Jo felt the tears collect in her eyes as she nodded and snuggled up to Alex, nuzzling his neck with her nose. Alex kissed her forehead and Jo thought of the baby booties. Their kid would have a good life and a good home and they would do their best to be good parents. Jo was sure of that.

……………………………………………………………………

AN: Also I fainted while getting a blood draw recently. Yeah, it was not fun, but all the nurses were really nice. I’ve fainted with IV’s before, but this was new and not fun. This wasn’t inspired by that, but I did use my experience in this story.

[thatblondeperson]

TimSteph, taking care of chronic injuries!

Hey look, another ask that got buried! Sorry friend!!!! 

This is all preboot, RR/Batgirl era.

Ok so Tim is super extra imo when it comes to treating any kind of sickness, injury, ANYTHING. He’s the type of guy who will go to CVS and buy out the entire “cold + flu” aisle as soon a Steph gets a runny nose. He absolutely drowns her in cough drops and tissues. I can see him being extremely attentive as well. Like bringing blankets and pillows around the clock, happy to carry her from point A to point B, almost insisting to do so on occasion, and just sitting with her for as long as she desires/needs company. He absolutely pays no mind to germs. Steph can cuddle all she wants.

Steph is similar but less extra. She’s got some more classic home remedies that Tim doesn’t have. She absolutely would baby the hell out of him if he got sick though, and probably more often than not she has to put her foot down on him trying to patrol even if he’s completely out of it and burning up. Tim has a hard time relaxing, but eventually the time is used for him to catch up on sleep. Tim getting sick is like a mini-hibernation. I can see Alfred stepping in occasionally if they were both sick because Tim’s an absolute mess, and Steph can only do so much before she gets wiped out. They’re hopeless and completely out of service if they’re both ill at the same time. Error 404: Dorks not found. 

Chronic injuries are a constant process. Steph obviously has a ton just from Black Mask alone. I’m sure she gets aches and pains on the regular due to the severity of the torture she experience. Power drills would leave some lasting abdominal pain for sure. Hell, I wonder if it makes cramps worse for her? It could in all honestly. She may need serious pain meds during that time of the month which are of course always kept on hand. On top of that, the physical trauma definitely left endless mental trauma. No question about it. Not to mention that time she got lightly shot in the head. I say lightly because I forgot this was a thing because they don’t really address it again. I imagine that would cause occasional headaches/migraines, and I’m sure Tim likes to run a scan every now and again to make sure there isn’t any lasting damage. And of course, we return to the medicine cabinet for more pain pills. (Thank you @incoherentbabblings for reminding me of the gunshot.)

I headcanon that both of them get nightmares on almost the regular. They’ve both got it set that if one of them is in the middle of a bad nightmare, the other just holds them close, doing whatever they can to soothe them until the calmness sets back in. The nightmares get more spaced out some time after they move in together because I think the constant safeness of having someone beside them every night would eventually help them both sleep through the night better. It is hard to get back to sleep though. Both of them have been put through the ringer, they’ve both seen death of loved ones up close and personal, and I imagine a lot of what they’ve experienced is still very vivid and intense for them.

Tim’s got his own fair share of recurring pain. The boy doesn’t have a spleen and tbh I don’t know how he’s not getting sick more frequently. But extra precautions need to be taken to keep him from getting infections when he gets any kid of open wound, thank GOD Steph is a nurse. Tim has to be kept pretty healthy though if at all possible, which brings us back to my previous headcanon about him not caring about germs when Steph is sick? Yeah, not his smartest move, but Tim’s an idiot and forgets that he’s fragile. 

Both of them have regular joint issues. They’ve dislocated enough things for just about everything to make awful clicking sounds now and again. Steph doesn’t have as much regular muscle pain, she’s far more flexible than Tim is so she stays pretty loose and limber, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to work at it every day. Steph does yoga as a part of her routine. She gets Tim to join sometimes but he’s not very good at keeping up with it. He’s flexible too but not to her level, and he locks up easier if he’s had an especially tough night. They both try to put the time in to exercise when they can, spotting each other, keeping a routine going, because given how much they both get beaten and battered on the daily, if they don’t keep up with muscle pain, it’ll just get worse. On bad days when the pain makes any mobility difficult, massages ensue. They’ve got at least 15 ice packs in the freezer at all times, and a stack of heating pads in the medicine cabinet. And if all else fails, a nice hot bubble bath never hurts. With Epsom salts and everything. Steph likes to add a touch of lavender oil.

Immediate injuries they’re both very good at treating. Steph obviously has more technical knowhow, and she is the most medically trained of all the Batfam members, but Tim is detail oriented and good at focusing when he needs to so he can keep up just fine. They’re both good at stitches and general wound treatment, but Steph is better at consistent treatment. Tim will absolutely forget to switch out his bandages or clean things because his brain is soup and he cannot be bothered to think about injuries when he’s too busy with 50 other things on the constant. He needs to slow down. We get right back into “more prone to infections” again. Alas. Idiot. 

They both have their fair share of mental health issues, though Tim’s tend to be more intense. Steph has her ways of managing her own mental state but Tim gets stuck often. He falls into some pretty deep depression spells, and his anxiety acts up fairly frequently. Steph has started teaching him how to meditate, but also has a list of distractions and special remedies that she can utilize if need be. Movies and tea are a good base line, though Tim’s mind gets very far away sometimes and it’s hard to pull him back out. Like he almost wants to wallow in his sadness. Often she just tries to ground him as best she can so he doesn’t get so lost that he can’t come back. Steph likes to make sure that he isn’t always using patrol as a crutch for when he’s feeling upset or tense. It’s hard to sway him away from more pain when he lets himself get so close to the edge. It breaks her heart, sometimes she feels helpless.

Steph has anxiety as well, and some psychosomatic tics from her past abuse. She needs a lot of reassurance and gentleness when her mind starts racing. She’s still prone to trust issues, even now when she’s surrounded herself with stable people. She’s been let down and she fears losing her steady ground sometimes. Tim, let’s face it, hasn’t been the most reliable in the past, but I firmly believe that with some growing up he’d step up to the plate and try to be a solid home base for her to the best of his abilities. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. He’s very good at being gentle. That’s canon as fuck. I will die on the hill that Tim is as delicate with Steph as one would be with a priceless porcelain heirloom. Fight me, the boy would never intentionally try to physically or mentally hurt her. He tries so hard to reassure her but I thinks he feels a little helpless sometimes too. Some of her trust issues are his fault, and he can’t just snap his fingers and reverse his mistakes. He tries his best, but there will always be scars. 

All in all, I think they’re both very tender and caring with one another. They’re both beyond broken sometimes, and they are a mess and a half. But they know each other, they know each others pain and sadness and I think once they got back together they’d settle very easily into a care routine. Both of them are carrying the weight of countless consequences and mistakes and hardship on their shoulders. Pain is just a side affect that comes with carrying so much baggage, but it’s a little easier to manage when they have each other for support. I do think some of it would get easier over time, and my wish for them is that they can move somewhere just outside the city, maybe by a lake. Far enough away that things are quiet, but not so far that they would completely leave the hero gig behind. I agree with the consensus that neither of them could fully quit. Tim would just sink into the background, but Steph would be out there in the field for many years. Justas long as they have somewhere safe and comfortable to return to, I think they’ll both be just fine. Plus smooches are the best fallback medicine for all ailments and we all know that they never run out of those. 😘💋

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK! More than half of this was not anything to do with chronic injuries but fuck it. We’ve tapped into the hurt/comfort section of my brain and there is a lot of material there to work with. Idk when you sent this in but I hope it wasn’t too long ago. I hope this answered more questions than you ever intended to ask. 💜❤

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns​ 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972​  @ultraluckycatnd​  @donteattheappleshook​) and Art by @kmomof4​

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2 

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away. 

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV. 

"You're giving me what -" 

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant." 

"But I need my magic -" 

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic." 

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…" 

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost." 

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation. 

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash. 

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity. 

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back. 

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform. 

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!" 

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands. 

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings. 

  You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her. 

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )  

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting. 

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise." 

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus." 

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -" 

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them. 

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor. 

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -" 

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -" 

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again. 

"Is that all, Miss Swan?" 

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -" 

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -" 

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly. 

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?" 

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked. 

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?" 

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything." 

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -" 

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -" 

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -" 

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?" 

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story." 

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness. 

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -" 

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked. 

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?" 

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table." 

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly. 

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

  The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded. 

  (She just couldn't right now. 

Not right now. Not yet.) 

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said. 

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind. 

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise. 

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family. 

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious. 

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life. 

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days. 

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything. 

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business. 

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -” 

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again. 

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do. 

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness. 

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly. 

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face. 

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw. 

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face. 

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly. 

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.” 

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.” 

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed. 

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices. 

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care. 

  ("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?" 

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -" 

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest. 

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -" 

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -" 

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

  Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have. 

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them. 

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers. 

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved. 

  ( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -" 

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -" 

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." ) 

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors. 

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her. 

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. ) 

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work. 

Two very terrible things ruined her mood. 

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given. 

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise. 

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance. 

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -" 

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen. 

"David, what the fu -" 

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her. 

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were. 

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -" 

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked. 

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return. 

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly. 

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road." 

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted. 

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable. 

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her. 

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough. 

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance. 

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats ) 

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit. 

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams. 

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out. 

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared. 

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life ) 

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again. 

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again. 

"You want me to do what?" 

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -" 

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -" 

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip. 

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby. 

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness) 

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise. 

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded. 

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking. 

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -" 

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!" 

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -" 

"Oh Merlin, no, no!" 

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -" 

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly. 

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed. 

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -" 

"Cora!" 

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -" 

"I need a name Cora, this is so -" 

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further. 

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -" 

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian. 

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch. 

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!" 

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation. 

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage. 

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen. 

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards. 

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" 

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick) 

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -" 

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips. 

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered. 

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause. 

"So, what now?" She asked. 

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...) 

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -" 

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine. 

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled. 

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

[the-nagakenny-archives]

Jungle Cuddles Part 1

        “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I cannot believe I’m doing this.” Dilara facepalmed herself as she wandered into the deep green abyss. She knew the jungle was a dangerous place, as those villagers had warned her, but she didn’t care. She heard the rumors of some kind of ‘monster’ hiding in the trees, and she wanted to see for herself. She had the guts of an adventurer but despite all of that, she was still nervous about what this creature was. After all, you’d think that the idea of there being snake-people that lure humans to their doom with smooth voices and magic eyes would be ridiculous!

Yeah, right. Nagas do. Not. Exist. There’s no such thing, right? Right? Her thoughts were racing, but her heartbeat remained steady.

She assured herself that there was no such thing, and she even told the villagers she was staying with for a time that. She boasted that she could prove that their worries were foolish by spending two days in the deep jungle. Alone. Dilara was confident she’d get in there and back just fine, she even brought more than enough gear to both survive and get any confirmation about this creature. Still, deep down inside, she had almost no idea what she was really doing. Against her best judgment, she refused to believe there was some heartless creature who entranced and ate innocent people who wandered too far from home, telling herself ‘that’s just something to keep the little ones close by.’

Little did she know she couldn’t be farther from the truth about what she was really looking for.

——————————————————————————————————————–

Not a huge ways away, our favorite Prince of Cuddles Kenny was lounging around among some tree branches, trying to kill time until the sunset. He was humming a cheery tune that had a slight beat to it, which was accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of his fingers. To say he was bored would be an understatement. How long had it been since the last time he found a human to snuggle with? A week, two weeks, three weeks? He could barely remember. Oh well, guess he would just indulge in his own company, tonight! He was just about to close his eyes in a meditative state while humming his song, before he heard someone mumbling in the distance.

        “Stupid plan I had… Just going off by my lonesome… What was I thinking, I mean… What’s the point of this, seriously?” Could it be, another one? He poked his head around his tree and squinted his eyes, before resting them on a young woman. He could guess she was in her early twenties. She had long, subtly shiny brown hair tucked in a loose ponytail, her skin was slightly pale everywhere except her chest and neck, and… Oh, those eyes. He couldn’t see them too well from where he was sitting, but he could tell they were some sort of blue-green, and they were definitely one of her best features. He could tell she wasn’t the most fit of her kind, but she was still a sight to behold. He liked all body types anyways regardless of how skinny or buff someone was.

        “What’s this now~ Looks like an explorer maybe?” Kenny thought out loud. She did have a burly backpack on her, most likely full of supplies to last at least the next day or two. He shied away higher in the trees as she got closer, hoping that she wouldn’t notice him. After all, he did like to catch his cuddle buddies by a subtle surprise most of the time. Thankfully, she wandered right under him and didn’t even notice the subtle patterns of snake tail high in the branches. Though, she looked pretty on edge, surveying her immediate area carefully to make sure not to run into anything that would try to kill her.

Maybe I could give her a proper welcome, and a cozy place to cuddle and sleep~ I bet she would be grateful for the help… He said to himself in his head. The gears in his head started to turn, and he chuckled. He would wait until sunset though, she would likely be tired by then and thus be more vulnerable for what he had planned. In the meantime, he decided he would follow her silently, and not let her out of his sight. He couldn’t wait until he could introduce himself to her.

—————————————————————————————————————–

It took her a while, but Dilara finally managed to find somewhere decent to set up her small hammock. And not a moment too soon, because the sun would be setting in just about an hour. But she made sure to take a few extra precautions, such as finding trees secure enough to hold the ropes so she wouldn’t go tumbling to her doom, and tying up her food in a bag, which was secured to another tree right next to it. Dilara just prayed there weren’t any thieving monkeys close to where she was camping out. She decided since the sun was still setting and it wouldn’t be super dark for a while, she would at least go through her inventory. She opened her back and mumbled as she fumbled around her things, and went through her basic essentials.

        “Water bottle, spare water bottle, camera, notepad, pens, research tools, phone… Why did I even bring this? There’s no signal this deep in the jungle.” She shrugged and continued going through her items. “Knife, flashlight, hmm. Yup, it’s all here!” Dilara tossed her backpack in the other end of the hammock and laid back, closing her eyes.

        “You’re forgetting something darling~” A deep voice rang outside her line of sight.

        “No, no I don’t think I-” Wait. She was alone, so who replied to her? Dilara’s eyes immediately shot open, and widened, as she glanced around trying to find out where the sound come from. She heard a soft hiss in reply, and instinctively pulled out her dagger, pointing it every which way.

        “I think you are. You forgot to have some fun company!” The voice sounded masculine and fun, and she couldn’t deny it had a… charming tone to it.

        “W-who’s out there? Don’t make me use this!”

        “Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s no need for that. I’m not a threat, I promise.” The voice assured her. She figured that in a place like this, with all sorts of magical who-knows-what going around, some of the wildlife would be able to speak. Although Dilara was having none of it, and only grew more scared. “Just calm down, everything’s okay.” Where was that voice coming from?

—————————————————————————————————————

Kenny tried to stay out of her sight, slowly slithering towards the woman. Behind her of course, because a sharp knife to the abs by a total stranger was not his idea of fun.

         “Where are you, I won’t hesitate to defend myself!” The young woman yelled, glancing everywhere she could to see where he was, except ironically right behind her.

        “Well finding me will be easy, since I’m right behind you~” Kenny immediately regretted pointing out his location, because right after he said that, he was met with two things: A blade, and a woman who looked like she would try to cut his throat if he made one wrong move. But he still wasn’t intimidated, though. He still had work to do! “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to say hi!” Kenny shielded his face with his arms, preparing for an attack.

        “….Pardon?” Kenny slowly peeked over his hands, and saw the woman had a confused look on her face, but she was still holding the knife towards his direction.

        “I was just going to introduce myself. Come now, let’s be civilized. Just calm down, and put the blade away.” Kenny calmly spoke in a hushed tone. “I just want to say hi~” He proceeded to smile that same infectious smile, the kind of smile almost anyone would fall for.

This girl really needs some TLC, courtesy of me~ He thought to himself.

        “If you want to properly greet me, come fully into the light. I can barely see you.” The woman glared towards him.

        “Fine, fine. Just promise you won’t freak out, okay?” Kenny inched closer to where she was, but was still hidden in the shade of the trees.

        “Why?” She asked with a keen eye, raising her eyebrow.

        “Just, don’t scream. Okay?” Kenny pleaded. He knew if she got scared, she would either try to hurt him or run off, but we couldn’t have that, now could we? And he had just the thing to help her mellow out.

Dilara considered what he said, and reluctantly chose to let him come closer. But she would still be prepared in case he tried anything stupid.

        “Fine! But no funny stuff, I’m warning you.”

        “As you wish~” He purred. He could’ve sworn he heard a very faint gasp from her after she heard his response. And if he squinted his eyes, he could see just the slightest hint of a blush on her nose. Kenny chuckled in his head. He did have that effect on people, and then some. Slowly but surely, he came closer into the light, and hoped she wouldn’t try to take him out in cold blood.

—————————————————————————————————————

Dilara was not prepared for what immediately came into her vision. What met her eyes was not some horrible predator, but just a man. A very, very good-looking man, at least by human standards. Soft puppy-dog eyes that had a color similar to dark chocolate, tan skin that could’ve been almost all pure muscle, tall, and flowing red hair that was unkempt but somehow clean and soft-looking. She was almost tempted to reach out and touch his hair, but perished the thought when she remembered she might be in danger. But still, he was a sight for sore eyes. And after thinking that, her rosy blush only grew redder.

Woooow… Her mind echoed.

She heard the man give a hearty laugh in response, and she tried to hide her obvious reaction with one of her hands, still holding up her knife with the other.

        “I take it you like what you see? That’s nice to know~” He purred deeply. The man blew a kiss at her, and it took all her willpower not to swoon.

        “N-no?” Dilara squeaked, but her cheeks were a dead giveaway to what she was really thinking.

Man, he’s good! And oh, so handsome.She admitted in her head. She was still scared, but couldn’t deny that he was pretty good-looking.

        “For someone as pretty as you, you’re such a bad liar, you know?” He laughed heartily. Dilara groaned in agreement, and couldn’t help but give a little laugh in response as well. She finally looked him over fully, and realized part of him was still hidden in the darkness.

        “Ah-bup-bup. Closer please. I still can’t see some of you!” Dilara snapped out of her flirt-induced daze, and held her blade up a little higher.

        “Okay, okay. Promise not to scream?”

        “Sure?” Dilara raised an eyebrow.

        “Okay then! I’m coming closer!” The man grinned, and immediately started coming almost uncomfortably close to her. She heard a faint slithering noise, and her eyes widened when she saw that below his naval, there wasn’t a pair of legs, but a tail. Despite the stranger being oddly charming, and telling him that she would not freak out, her brain overrode her ability to keep her cool, and she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

        “Y-YOU’RE A NAGA?!”

And that about does it for Part 1! If I feel like it, I might make more to the story at some point, most likely I will, but don’t get your hopes up! I can guesstimate Part 2 could come out in a week or two. A month at most! I just wanted to try my hand at writing stuff again and thought this would make nice practice. I’m doing this for the enjoyment of others to read, and I’m totally cool with my submission being anonymous. I’m not the kind of person to bask in the spotlight, ya know? Anyway, hoped you all liked what I wrote and feel free to leave behind some constructive criticism if you can! Bye~

----submitted by anonymous