H-here … It’s For You 🌼

I love these 2

The Most Humane Monsters

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Yandere!Mold Ethan Winters x GN!reader

Summery: Childhood friends of Ethan Winters you watch as the blond man grow into a fine adult, someone caring and devoid of any malicious capabilities. As time grows you soon realize that you love the adorably dumb man, Ethan was everything in your eyes. So when he marries another person by the name of Mia it tore you to pieces, especially when you come to learn her true nature. Cruel, manipulative, and cold, safe to say you hated her in every way. Regardless, Ethan loved her whole heartedly and you did your best to support him. One day Mia goes missing from her "babysitting job", days turn to week, and week to months, Ethan was a wreck from the anxiety. And despite all feelings for Mia and for Ethan you buried them alive, stepping in as the supportive friend Ethan always knew you as. Apparently that was not enough as without any notice Ethan was gone, out on an adventure to save his wife. This left you alone with no idea of what happened to the man you loved, left alone for weeks and months. Just you and your thoughts.

That is until Ethan returned, changed by the experiences in more than just emotional trauma.

Tags: Heavy Angst, some fluffy moments, yandere themes (lighter side), Ethan being turned into a mostly mindless mold monster, character violence, mentions of abuse, jealously, mentions of depression and eating disorder, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers (?)

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So much time passed ever since Ethan ghosted you, you just hoped he was happier now. Slowly you started to move on, eating again. Going to therapy, seeking help and bringing the colour back to your life. It wasn't easy by any means, certainly not cheep either. Damn American healthcare. But for once in your life things were just okay, to most that wouldn't even be close to a quality of life but for you it was improvement. The best type of improvement where things were just good enough for you not to be in constant misery. It surprised you, but you were indeed moving on. You even started to date again, met a few people that were nice but it wasn't the same as Ethan.

It would never be the same.

Obviously things were still pretty difficult but you did the only thing you could do, take it a moment at a time. After a lot of thinking you planed to move, maybe a fresh start will finally stop reminding you of Ethan. You weren't just planning to move state but country, somewhere you can just wipe all those little shops that reminded you of your past away. All the bars with his favourite beer, or the nerdy comic book shops, gone.

You took a deep breath in, you were going to be alright. You already found a new place across the borders thanks to a friend and now you just needed to pack and pull out your emergency funds, you'll figure out work when you get there. Let the wind pull you were you need to go, maybe your friend across the border would advise you somewhere. Either way you were still pretty young and you could do it, the business maybe being the thing to finally stopping all your thoughts of Ethan. It was a dark night as heavy rain fell against your window, it sounded like it was trying to break the glass. Looking at the weather report it said there was an atmospheric river, a.k.a a few days of heavy rain. You didn't mind, it would give you time to re-write you resume, you last boss gave you a really nice reference and you intended to use that to its full extent. Prepare to write your application to the new house you were going to move to, start to organize all the things you need to pack, budget. You stretched before sitting down at your computer and started typing, calm music in the background to help you focus. Maybe a few hours passed before thunder struck in the distance, lights flickered before it all turned off. You screamed as all your progress has been lost, maybe if the gods were merciful enough your program auto-saved not too long ago. Either way your power was completely out, maybe this was just a message for your work to be finished today. It was already 7:30 pm and you haven't even eaten dinner yet, standing you fumbled in the pitch darkness for your flashlight. Finally finding it only to discover its dead batteries, cursing you pulled open a drawer with pillar candles. These would have to do, lighting them it was enough. Collecting them you started placing them around the kitchen area and one by one you lit them with the one in your hand. In a strange way this made you happy, a little romantic moment for yourself. Maybe you could make a nice fancy soup, some fresh bread, then take a warm long bubble bath and go to sleep at ease.

Self care.

You hummed at the idea as another strike of thunder echoed in the distance, you were glad you were inside. As much as you loved the rain if you were to go out there right now you would be soaked to your bone marrow in the icy needles down pour, anyone out there for more than a few minutes could get hyperthermia. Its late fall almost winter at this point, nights got close to -1 C often hovering around 0 C- 5 C. Disregarding your thoughts you started with your soup, chopping onions, carrots, celery and other veggies, pan frying meats before adding them to the broth you made. Humming a small tune as you moved back and forth in your warm house, peacefully oblivious to the person who opened your front door. Despite it being locked they knew exactly where you kept your spare, quietly they walked the halls with their muddy boots still on. Silently down towards the living room before turning to the dining room with the open kitchen. The figure stood behind you at a distance, just silently watching you as you hummed and cooked.

The tasteful aroma filling the house, gods was he hungry. When was the last time he eaten? Slept? Done anything aside from walk?

He was just glad he was home again.

You felt a draft suddenly wash over you, was the house always this cold? You turned curious before screaming and dropping your wooden spoon, there was a figure of what looked like a man in the darken dinning room. Just standing there, staring. Looking down the hall you saw your front door open, the dark blue outside with inky black drops pouring from the sky. Muddy foot prints trekked by this 'guest', like there was any suspicion that it wasn't the figure who made them. How did they get in though, you lock your door, you always locked your door! Looking at this figure you couldn't see them clearly with the low light, but they were dirty, very dirty. Covered in what looks to be a black mud? It coated their clothes and body, hands completely black and continuing up to their elbows were it slowly transitioned back to pale white skin. They looked like a ghost with how pale they were, a ghost with a black gradient of mud. They were wearing kaki office pants and mud covered boots, but strangely a brown mud. What once was a white shirt with the same mix of brown and black mud, you eyes trailed back to the figures hand to see a single key in it.

Oh, that's how they got in.

You were completely frozen in fear, they found your spare key?

The figure didn't move either, just standing and staring at you. What did they want, why were they here, how did they know where you kept you spare key? A flash of lightning illuminates the room for a split second and it gave you enough time to see the stranger's face, Ethan Winters.

Audibly you gasp before moving slightly closer, "Ethan?"

There was no response as he stood there, "Is that you, you're freaking me out!"

Slowly Ethan walked towards you and you felt your heart leap in your chest, something was wrong, clearly wrong. The man looks like he's been through hell and back, dirty, grimy, hair a mess and clothes beyond ruined. What the hell happened to your old friend- ex friend.

Slowly he walked until he was in front of you and all you could do is stare into his face, towering over you never before have you felt threatened by Ethan but now you were. Gods were you scared, has Ethan lost his mind, was he here for revenge or something? The dim candle light finally caught onto his face you could see the calm almost solemn expression, a type that you figured originated from a sort of relived exhaustion. You watched as Ethan slowly reached between you arms to turn off the stove before leaning down to embrace you, you still felt so paralyzed and yet still you eased into it. All those years of working on your feelings breaking through to the front again, seeing Ethan clearly in some form of distress just opened the flood gate.

Against his chest you could smell almost a mildew scent, that along with the one that comes from having clothes in storage for too long. Underneath that you could barely smell that warm musky scent that you loved so much, buried under what hell Ethan had to live through.

Slowly you pushed away from his embrace to look up at Ethan, "What happened to you Ethan?"

You were met with more silence, peeking between his arm you saw the door was still open and letting in the cold air. You went to squeeze out of his embrace to close it went he suddenly tightened his arms again, you let out a surprised squawk not expecting such an action. "Ethan, I need to close the door." You voice was quiet as if not to scare him.

Almost reluctantly Ethan let go and you made you way down the hall, closing and locking the door. You turn around to see Ethan looming right behind you which causes you to yelp in fright again, how many times was he going to jumpscare you? "Jesus, personal space."

He didn't reply again, something was seriously wrong with Ethan. It was like he was confused and in auto pilot, following you around like a lost dog. You looked down at his hand and still saw Ethan was holding the key, "Here, why don't you give that to me?"

You reach for the key as Ethan followed you with his eyes, still gripping it you carefully open his fingers to take it before setting it on a table in the mudroom. Ethan's hand instinctively grabs onto yours as the only thing he was holding into was taken away, that same black mud now coating your hands.

"You must be freezing, I think I have some spare clothes for you to wear. Maybe you can take a hot shower to warm yourself up first, get that dirt off of you at the same time." You were met with that same soft blank stare as Ethan continued to look through your eyes, it was slightly unnerving.

"Take off your shoes, I can help you with finding some clothes first." The tall man obeyed, still dripping wet you pulled him down the hall towards your bathroom. You lead him inside before holding your hand out signaling to 'wait here' before opening your drawers to find some spare sweat pants and an oversized shirt, only then did you noticed that black substance on your hand. It was strangely warm, like if you were touching someone's skin. You walked back to the washroom, past Ethan and to the sink where you turn on the water, Ethan slowly walked over to continue to loom behind you.

"What is this stuff anyways?"

No reply.

"It's weird and sticky, warm too."

Ethan still made no move besides looking down at you, you caught his stare through the mirror and felt a shiver ripple down your spine. "You should probably wash that gunk off too."

More echoing silence pierced the air between you two, Ethan was clearly not functional at the moment and you needed to help him through whatever happened. You took his hand and put it under the warm water, scrubbing it with your own trying to get as much as that substance off. It was surprisingly difficult, yours came off easier than Ethan's though. You suppose it was because it was on him longer, Ethan didn't seem bothered at all and was still trying to hold you as you scrubbed. Eventually it seemed like his hands were clean but they were still pitch black, the only way you knew they were 'clean' was by the fact you no longer could feel that weird texture of the mud.

"I guess that's good enough for now, why don't you take that shower now. You must be freezing." Tender eyes stared down at you before Ethan nodded, he was cold. So cold.

You turned on the water before leaving the room to find him clothes again, meanwhile Ethan couldn't help but feel anxious at your leave. He wanted to open the door and find you, Ethan really hated the idea of being alone again. He doesn't remember much but what he does remember was the feeling of being so lonely and scared, lonely and scared for too long. Somewhere cold, damp, dark. Gunshots and screams. Black mold.

Ethan opened the door and walked towards the other that was half opened, pushing the door open annouced his presence as the hinges screamed in a long winded protest. You turned with a oversized band tee in your hands, confused. "Ethan, what are you doing?"

"Is the water too hot or something?"

You were met with more silence as the man slowly walked towards you again, embracing you and keeping you against his chest.

"Ethan, I know your cold, I can feel you shivering. Go take a shower, you'll feel much better after." The man still didn't move.

"Come on, I can help you get the water right." That seemed to do the trick as Ethan released you, leading back towards the washroom.

The water was still running, fogging up the mirror and area. You put you hand under to find it perfectly warm, maybe a little on the cooler side if anything. "The water is nice, I don't see anything wrong with it."

Still Ethan just stared at you, "Go on, feel."

You urge the man, he squeezes himself past you to put his arm under and doesn't react much to it. Backing away you start to leave but get caught by Ethan again, eyes telling you something you couldn't quiet understand.

"What, I'm leaving so you can shower." Voice smooth and small as if not to startle him, Ethan shook his head to your answer.

"You don't want to shower?" Ethan shook his head again.

"No, do you not want me to leave then?" He nodded.

A part of you wanted to protest, this was all so strange but it was apparent the man was traumatized. Leaving him alone would probably only cause more unesscary anxiety, setting aside your own feelings you turned your back and faced the wall. "Okay, I'm looking away so you can undress."

The sound of rustling clothes filled the air as you focused on it, you stood still against the wall trying your best not to see anything. The water's sound became slightly quieter as Ethan stood under the water, you could hear a sign of relief. Moving away you sat down on the sink and allowed Ethan to take his time cleaning, enjoy the warm water and not worry about anything else.

"The clean clothes are on top of the toilet with a towel, I can take your dirty clothes after.". Much to your surprise, Ethan hummed in response acknowledging you, a little progress.

Whenever Ethan found you got too silent for his liking he would poke his head out to check you were still there, and every time you would give him a comforting smile. It didn't take long for Ethan to get clean, taking all the black gunk off of his hair and skin leaving hind stains in his skin. At least his soft blond hair was back, Ethan did feel much better now warmed up.

When you saw his pale leg come out of the shower you quickly turned to face the wall, Ethan could've least given you a warning. You don't understand why he decided to step out of the shower to dry and get dressed, but at this point you were not going to question him.

"Are you hungry?" You asked still facing away from the man.

"I still have the soup I made, its probably still warm." Ethan snaked his arms around you and rested his face on your shoulder, you could feel him nod against your skin. God was he so affectionate right now, was it because he needed comfort or another reason? You didn't know.

"Come on, its downstairs. I know I am starving."

Ethan followed you as you lead him back to where you found him, sitting him at the dinner table before turning to grab a bowl. Toasting some bread and setting it down for the man you watched as he tore into it like a starving animal, maybe he was one. Sitting across from Ethan you noticed the black stain on his limbs, surprised that they did not wash off. What was that mud?

"Did the mud not come off?" Ethan stops his messy eating to stare at you curiously.

"The black on your skin, is it a colouration or something else?" The man dropped his spoon as he turned to look at his arms like it was the first time he noticed the difference.

You sat there in silence as anxiety bubbled in your stomach, did Ethan not even realise he was covered in whatever that was?

"Does it hurt?" You finally spoke again, and he shook his head.

"Maybe we should get that checked out, I can call a doctor." Ethan shook his head again this time with a more stern and serious expression.

"What if it is a type of necrosis, like something eating your skin and flesh. If we can treat it early we could prevent damage before it happens."

Ethan suddenly slammed his hands on the table causing you to jump at the sudden noise, he didn't seem to like that answer. As Ethan saw your tension he calmed down, he didn't want to scare you. Furthest from it, he almost got up to comfort you but you spoke before he could. "Okay, then maybe another day." Hands up trying to show innocent intent.

You didn't eat much, having enough to satiate you. Ethan on the other hand ate both his and your own portion, you knew he always had a larger appetite than you but it surprised you. Once finished he looked at you with a happy smile, he must have felt better now with good food in his system.

"Feeling better?" Ethan nodded

One part of you wanted to ask Ethan what happened but you also knew he would need time, maybe tomorrow morning would be better. "Are you tired?"

Ethan nodded

"Well there is the spare room, you can rest there." Ethan got up and started to walk down the hall, quickly you took the bowls and placed them in the sink to deal with later. Trailing behind Ethan as he went towards the bedroom, instead of turning to the spare room he went straight into yours. "Wait, Ethan!"

You jogged after him only to find Ethan already crawling into your bed, "Ethan, this is my room." He didn't respond as Ethan further tucked himself under.

"That's my bed!" You raised your voice a little louder and indignant but still no response from the man.

You huffed out your nose in annoyance, "Okay, I guess I will take the guest bed then."

Like incantations to a spell it worked its magic as Ethan sprung into life once more, a darkened arm jumping out from the covers to grasp onto you and pull you back with him. You ended up falling on top of Ethan with a frightened yelp, the man under you smiling gently like how you remembered him doing. Well one thing was for sure, Ethan was defiantly better than how you found him. But why he was acting this way was beyond you, sure its probably a trauma thing that he doesn't want to be alone but this felt different. You couldn't put your finger on it right away, and frankly you were too happy with Ethan being back in your life that you probably brushed most red flags away.

By now Ethan tightened his arms around your middle and now was slowly rolling the both of you to your sides, nuzzling in and relaxing it was clear he was about to go to sleep. You allowed this to happen, it seemed so harmless, confusing sure but ultimately harmless. Ethan was always a more physically affectionate man, even with his friends he liked to show that he cared for them. Either way maybe tomorrow morning thinks would be cleared up, by then maybe Ethan will be able to talk again. You were too tired

@thatgoblin @piers-wifey @starblazer124 @sebbytheraccoon @chaoticlovingdreamer @notgalaxii @germvity @sirpeanutthethird @clusterfuck-yandere @frogge-lol

It’s him.. its the evil resident

Don't mind me requesting again cuz your writing is good-

Anyway I need some older male reader that is team GHOST from call of duty ghosts and his team is fucking chaotic like they be almost killing them self's and one of them do stabby another like blowing shit up while male reader don't get enough sleep and be a dad on his team but in the end they get the job done

I just want 141 to meet male readers team during a mission and all of them see his team jumping out a window lol

I just need some chaotic shit

Ghost Soldier!Male Reader + Task Force 141

WARNING: INCREDIBLY CRINGE WRITING

While Captain Y/n is on a mission with his team, they are interrupted...

What matters most though is if they are friend or foe...

Honestly, trying to put a whole scenario like this together was fun and challenging at the same time but worth it @gamersansblog !!!

So I hope you enjoy!

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"Midnight, Hawk, do either of you have eyes on the target yet?" Y/n asked as he let his eyes sweep over the contents in the room. Falcon followed behind him, silently with his gun raised, clearing the room himself before rejoining Y/n's side.

"No sir, not yet," Midnight's heavy feminine voice replied through the radio.

"Just a whole bunch of shit in here, Captain, unless..." Hawk drawed out slowly.

Y/n knew that tone and quickly tried to intervene, "Hawk, I swear if do what I think..."

"Calm down, sir. Why don't we just turn this place inside out?"

"Hawk..." Falcon warned from beside Y/n as he watched his Captain let out a long sigh in front of him.

"Just a little demolition, sir. That's all... it's not like anyone knows we're here anyway. With the guards dead, I doubt we'll be interrupted, " Y/n could have swore he aged faster as he listened to Hawk's suggestion.

Honestly, Y/n was too tired for this shit. It felt like he was baby sitting 3 kids and he couldn't help but wonder if other groups dealt with the same thing.

There mission was simple, take out the guards, retrieve the files, and get out. Really simple shit. Y/n could do it in his sleep if he wanted too. But noooo, the Higher Ups just had to say his team needed to be with him for this operation.

Plus, Y/n doubted that Falcon could deal with all of them if Y/n left him alone with Midnight and Hawk. So he was forced to bring his crazy pyromaniac of a man, the little assassin that would kill just about anything even when Y/n told her not to, and his only good child.

God, being a father of a Ghost Team was hard.

But even so, Y/n wouldn't change it for the world. His team was just about the best thing that ever happened to him and his career. They were his second chance, his redemption. His everything...

"Alright, Hawk, set up those explosives and see if you can find anything. Midnight, watch his back. Falcon and I are gonna make our way over there..." Y/n commanded.

"Understood, sir," and in the background, he could hear Hawk's sinister little giggle and shook his head at his soldier's antics.

"You sure this is the best idea, sir?" Falcon looked worried about this and Y/n didn't blame him for it. They both knew Hawk could go too far when it came to blowing up things.

Last time they left him alone, half of a building managed to disappear.

Y/n shook his head at the thought, not wanting to even remember that mission again.

When he caught sight of Midnight, the woman was throwing her knives at some random crate she was using as target practice.

"Midnight, Y/n told you to stop doing that. You're gonna mess up your knives and then cry about needing to get new ones," Falcon stressed.

Midnight stuck her tongue out at the man and Y/n chuckled.

"Come on Captain tell her!" Falcon pleaded.

Y/n ignored it and looked towards Hawk.

"You ready Hawk?"

"Annnnnd FINISHED!" the man exclaimed happily as he put the last finishing touches on the bomb.

"Good... get ready to...the hell is that sound?" Y/n turned to see a drone watching them outside the window.

"Shit... someone else is here... we're leaving NOW!" Y/n yelled as he made his way to the windows with their repel gear.

"WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!" Midnight bellowed next to him.

"Doesn't matter! Hawk on my signal you blow this place to hell!"

"What about the files?!" Hawk asked.

"The Captain and I got them on our way to you two! Now hurry your ass up and get ready to repel!" Falcon hollered at him, quickly putting his gear on.

Once they were ready, Y/n didn't take the chance of the enemy spotting them from the window. If anything, these guys were definitely professionals and had yet to show themselves but it didn't bother Y/n one bit. He knew his team was just as good.

So, he turned to the other window, pulling out his P226 and aiming it at the window.

"Hawk, you remember that scene from Fast and Furious where they jumped from building to building?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah, but we don't have a supercar, sir!"

"Well we can try!" Y/n began to run towards the window, shooting it multiple times until to burst into glass shards and they all jumped out.

"NOW HAWK!"

Y/n heard that lovely sound of the explosion going off behind him as they landed on the roof.

"Hell yeah!" Hawk whooped from beside him.

"We can celebrate later...we still need to find who else is here."

Y/n turned to Midnight first.

"I got an idea..."

"Sir?" She tilted her head in curiosity.

"You see anyone even hostile take them out. Hawk fill this place with traps, take Falcon with you."

Hawk nodded and tapped Falcon's arm before leading them away from Y/n and Midnight.

"Alright, let's go see who the hell were dealing with..."

Midnight sent Y/n a smirk as Y/n moved to take point and as they set out to find the intruders.

It didn't take long when they both heard a cry that only Hawk could make and quickly ran towards his yells. Y/n told Midnight to hide the in the grass, dropping into the dirt himself and aiming his rifle at the newfound men that had Hawk and Falcon in their custody.

He heard the gruff British man's voice question who Hawk was working with, who their team was, but Hawk wasn't one to talk.

Y/n made sure personally that they would never talk. He put then through the same exact situation he had been in now. Cornered by the enemy but except this time not alone.

"Midnight, stay down unless shots are fired. Got it?"

She nodded at him before popping up out of the grass.

"I wouldn't move it I were you..."

The men all turned back to him, guns drawn on him while he held his Honey Badger tightly to his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" The man in the skull mask questioned.

Y/n gave him a look before turning back to the man with the fisher hat on.

"You plan on fishing for my soldiers..." he drawed off.

"Captain Price." He answered.

"Ah...I've heard of you... You and your little Task Force. What was it...141, right?"

"Ye now who the hell are you?" He watched the man's grip tighten on his own gun.

"Captain Y/n and you're going to give me back Hawk and Falcon now." Y/n demanded.

"How do I-" he was cut off by another voice going through his radio.

"Yeah but-... Are you sure, Laswell?"

Y/n looked up when he heard Kate's last name leave the older Brits lips.

"You familiar with Laswell?" Y/n asked as he watched the men untie Hawk and Falcon.

"Seems so...and it seems she knows you as well..." Price commented as he watched Hawk and Falcon walk back to Y/n's side.

"Sir, are you sure Laswell said they're green?" The dark skin man asked the Captian.

"I doubt Laswell would lie to us Gaz. That goes for you two as well," Price said, turning to the skull masked man and the slightly shorter man standing next to him.

"So that's a infamous Ghost...I thought he be taller," Hawk.

"He lots pretty damn tall to me, considering he's standing near shortstack over there..." Falcon said.

The shorter man sent him a glare, obviously hearing Falcon's comment, but before he could say anything, Ghost pulled him back.

"He's not worth it, Soap."

Y/n heard a Scottish accent come from the man as he watched the two talk.

"Oh, sir... You should probably tell-" Falcon was too late to warn him when Midnight sprang up from behind Ghost and Soap.

Y/n sent her the scariest death glare in history before the woman's knife even made it near the two men. Only then did Ghost realize Y/n was glaring but not at him and turned around only to see nothing there. When he turned back, there was now a third soldier standing near him that wasn't there.

"Who she?" He cocked his head towards her.

"Midnight." and he left it there.

Price turned to look at them apologetically before letting out a long sigh.

"Sorry about the mishaps, mates. Seems we got you mixed up with someone else, by the way... you know who blew up that building?"

"We did," Y/n said quickly, watching the man's face change to confusion.

"Why did you-"

"Sorry, but we're kinda on a tight schedule so we'll see yall again sometime soon yeah? Nice meeting you, Captain and your team. Lovely bunch, really! Sir, we have go to go." Falcon said as he pulled Y/n away, the man shaking his own head and chuckling himself, with the other two laughing.

"Kids am I right?" Y/n shouted as he sent a quick nod to the Captain before turning to greet his own team as they made their way towards exfil.

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-Guards

Wesker in his fbi attire, exhausted and tired in the morning with his starbucks coffee c:

@residentevilnet #renetweek: day 4 - best main antagonist

ALBERT WESKER

Wesker (again)

Had to redo this because good lord it was hideous but now I think it’s starting to look better.

THIS SCENE WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE IT CALLED BACK TO THE CONVERSATION THEY HAD ABOUT HIS MASK AND IF HE WAS UGLY OR NOT AND HES THERE LIKE "O_O"

drowning in sentiment

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?" His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern.

The following snippet is meant to serve as the sixth part to my ongoing series featuring Severus/Reader.

word count: 4k | ao3 version

Warnings: non-consensual drugging (amortentia), vomiting, nausea, unconsciousness, sickness, medical fare (think the infirmary, medical recovery processes, etc.)

Disclaimer: I do not support or condone the actions and beliefs of HP’s author in any way whatsoever. I thoroughly believe in fanfiction’s transformative, restorative, and healing power. Therefore, I write HP fanfiction not to encourage the author’s beliefs, but instead to directly challenge and disprove her prejudice; I write to further strengthen, validate, and support minority identities that are harmed by She Who Must Not be Named’s dangerous ideologies. I'm not taking any questions, comments, or criticisms regarding this. Don't like it? Don't read!

It all starts at lunch. At least, that’s your most educated guess. 

You ate your typical meal and drank from your goblet—just like every other lunch. None of these occurrences should’ve been indicative of future turmoil. Yet, hours later, when you find yourself hunched over your desk with tunneling vision, shaking hands, and sweat along your skin, you have to come to terms with the fact that something likely happened at lunch. You’re no Potions expert, but you know the telltale signs of an Amortentia dosage when you see them.

You summon a piece of parchment and grab your quill, writing a quick letter to Severus and handing it to your owl. Your owl lets out a weak chirp, pecking your forehead in evident concern before flying away. Severus will certainly be able to brew the necessary Potions to get the Amortentia out of your system. Ordinarily, you’d simply walk over to his office—but you’re not very confident in your ability to walk at the moment. Indeed, the moment you had gotten up from your desk, you were hit with such an intense wave of dizziness that you fell to the ground. You’ve since managed to move back to rest against the wall behind you, closing your eyes in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the feverish sensation at your core and your blurring vision. 

Meanwhile, Severus is grading papers in his office when he hears an owl tapping at his closed window. He huffs and turns around, tempted to ignore the creature until he recognizes it as yours. The Potions master gets to his feet and opens the window, only for the owl to nearly collide with his chest as it frantically flies at him. Severus frowns and takes the parchment tied to its leg. The message only deepens his frown.

Severus, Apologies for disrupting you. When you get the chance, would you bring me some potions to treat Amortentia dosage? They’re for a student.

Severus stares down at the parchment for a moment longer, unease prickling along his skin. He wonders why you didn’t simply come to his office to ask him in person. Even more troubling is the uncharacteristic slant to your writing. He can’t seem to get rid of the unfounded feeling of dread settling in his chest as he looks at your message. It’s innocuous, and yet… he knows something is wrong. 

Furthermore, if the Potions were for a student, then you’d likely supply their name—after all, Hogwarts faculty are trained to practice ultimate discretion when it comes to the health of their students. Your messy writing and the omission of the student’s information aren’t significant on their own; together, however, they unsettle him. Your owl bats him with a wing, breaking him from his thoughts. Your owl—which is usually quite calm—seems to be stressed, too. Quickly coming to a decision, Severus heads for the door to his office.

And in the time since you first penned the letter, you found yourself falling to the floor. You’re now lying on the ground with your back to the wall—sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your clothes feel extremely constricting and you want nothing more than to run out of your office and find the person who slipped you the potion, the object of your affections, the target of your obsession- 

Suddenly, your office door is nearly thrown off its hinges as it slams against the adjacent wall. You look up at the sudden noise, only to find Severus standing in the doorway, looking truly menacing as he wears a furious expression on his face. “Severus,” you say. You don’t think you manage to successfully hide the relief you feel from your voice, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You don’t have the energy —not when your skin feels like it’s oozing off of you into puddles on the ground. 

Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’re the one who needs the potion,” he states. His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?”

“It didn’t seem pressing at the time.” You choke out, shivering and sweating at the same time. You feel like you’re stuck in quicksand—even a small gesture with your hand feels like an uphill battle against a powerful current. 

“Merlin,” Severus mutters. 

There are tears sliding down your cheeks now. You wipe at your eyes, your hands trembling beyond belief as your vision tunnels and sways around you. The professor leans closer and you flinch, guilt flooding through you when you recognize the instinct.

But Severus doesn’t seem to take offense. He’s staring at you with a clinical gaze, taking in all of your symptoms and evidently developing a plan in his head. He opens the satchel at his side with nimble fingers, grabbing an unfamiliar vial. “Take this,” Severus implores. At your blank stare, he continues. “Don’t make me force you.” The dark expression on his face suggests that he will do exactly that, if necessary. Not wanting to approach death, you bring a shaking hand to the vial. Expecting him to relinquish his grip, you bring the vial to your lips and tilt it back—only to realize that Severus’ hand hasn’t left the vial either, instead moving it to your lips and ensuring you don’t drop it. The potion burns as you swallow it and you cough briefly, shuddering at the awful taste. 

Then a weak, utterly humiliating sound wrenches its way from your lips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. “Severus-” You try to say. Your words are garbled and your tongue feels far too thick to create anything coherent. In one last burst of energy, you try to reach out to him—only to succumb to the darkness creeping along the edges of your vision. 

You wake up in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and, at first, you feel as if you’re a student. Then, the memory of what happened rushes back to you and you’re forced to remember that you’re a professor who was poisoned by a student. The thought unsettles you, so you try to distract yourself by looking around the space. 

To your surprise, Severus is sitting at your bedside, looking entirely unimpressed. The pinched expression on his face looks somewhat painful to maintain, yet his scowl is so deeply-set that it doesn’t even flicker in intensity. You try to avert your eyes, but it’s too late—he’s noticed you’re awake.

“...Hello,” you try. Severus arches a brow. For a long moment, there is nothing but a horribly tense silence that descends across the space. You glance around the Hospital Wing, relieved to find that there aren’t any students present. It’s embarrassing enough for Severus to be here—the last thing you need is for one of your students to be seeing you like this. 

His form is strung together with a silent fury. “What could have possibly possessed you to consume a gift from a student?” Severus eventually seethes. It takes you a few moments to process that accusation. 

“A gift from a student?” You then ask, your voice a little hoarse. You clear your throat before continuing. “Do you really think so little of me? I’m not that foolish.”

Severus stills. “Where do you suspect the potion was, then?” He asks carefully, clearly sensing the implications of your confession. 

“It must’ve been in my goblet during lunch.” You answer. 

Severus’s expression morphs from vicious fury to calculating precision. “That is… even more concerning,” he admits with a stormy expression. “I will speak to the elves about this.” He resolves. 

“Severus, that’s not-” That’s not necessary, you want to say. Except it sort of is. You don’t want anything like this to happen again—you don’t want to feel doubtful or suspicious of the meals in the castle. Severus must sense your thought process, because he continues as if you hadn’t said anything at all. 

“The offender will be expelled,” he asserts easily. “Since they are likely a student.” 

“Expelled?” You choke out, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Sure, you’re unsettled by the whole situation, but you don’t want to completely ruin a child’s future. Preventing them from returning to Hogwarts seems a little extreme. “Severus, expulsion is a little extreme. I don’t want that to happen; we can negotiate something less severe-”

“I don’t remember inquiring about your desires,” Severus states coldly, bringing you back to reality. You once again feel like you’re a student, as you’re coming face to face with the professor’s unflinching authority. You resist the growing urge to shrink back against the pillows at your back. “And need I remind you that administering Amortentia without explicit consent is a felony?” 

“No,” you sigh resignedly. You bring a shaking hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re still struggling to get a handle on everything that happened. It all feels like a blur. “I just… I don’t want to make this a big deal.” 

“This became a big deal when a Hogwarts professor’s life was endangered by a student’s foolish actions,” Severus asserts, raising a brow and challenging you to argue. You remain silent and, once he senses that you won’t voice any dissent, he continues. “Now, tell me who it was.” 

Somehow, that statement is what makes the reality of it all set in. You were so distracted by your symptoms that you didn’t stop to think and internalize the fact that a student was likely the one to do this. Someone in the castle wanted this to happen to you. At the mention of the culprit, dull grey eyes unwittingly come to mind. You’re suddenly hit with a horrible wave of dread and infatuation all at once, as the student’s visage appears in your mind’s eye. Even the thought of uttering their name is enough to summon the taste of bile. Every time you close your eyes, you see their cool gaze and shimmering hair and- 

You’re vomiting into the bowl at your side. When you’re finished, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and place your hands on the mattress, feeling the need to brace yourself. Severus vanishes the evidence of your sickness, which you are thankful for—the smell would not have helped your persistent nausea. He’s patiently waiting for your explanation, and it’s abundantly clear that you’re not going to be able to escape this. 

“Just-” You choke, shaking your head. It all feels like far too much. You take a shuddering breath, pretending not to feel as helpless as you do. Their name feels caught in your throat. A verbal admission is too much for you to handle right now. “Look at me.” You implore the professor. Severus understands quickly, as his eye contact with you quickly turns probing. You try to drop your Occlumency shields and summon the student’s visage to mind, showing Severus rather than telling him. The effort isn’t exactly difficult, given the potion that’s coursing through your veins. If anything, it’s harder not to think about the culprit. 

“Legilimens,” Severus says quietly. For a moment, it feels as if you’ve been plunged into ice water. There’s the faintest sensation of a frigid breeze rifling through your mind. Then, within moments, the professor’s looking away with thinly-veiled fury in his eyes. He seems moments away from walking out the door and interrogating the student, until a cough rips its way out of your throat and his attention is evidently thwarted. 

Severus squints at you before getting to his feet and approaching your bed. He places a hand to your forehead before holding your jaw and looking into your eyes, tilting your head slightly as he evidently looks for lingering effects from the potion. His hands are cool; you have to resist the urge to keep them pressed to your skin, if only because of the boiling feeling running along your skin. “I’ve provided a strict Potions regimen to ensure the Amortentia leaves your system,” Severus explains, his gaze flitting to the parchment on the bedside table. Then he looks at you sternly. “It is imperative that you maintain this regimen.” 

“Okay,” you say, too tired to argue or question him any further. You blink at him dazedly, struggling to clear your vision. The air seems to fall still. “Thank you, Severus.” Severus just nods, his right hand still cradling your jaw. The infirmary descends into a tense—but not uncomfortable—silence. 

There’s some bustling in the corner of the room. “You have another visitor,” Madam Pomfrey says, promptly breaking the strange moment that had been created between Severus and you. Severus leans back and nods at you, before making his departure. You watch him leave with conflicting feelings. 

“Albus,” you greet the headmaster, who walks into the room with a concerned expression.

“How are you faring?” Albus asks, settling at your bedside. 

“I’m fine, thanks to Severus,” you respond honestly. You’ve been better, but without his help, you’d be feeling much worse. 

“He seems worried, the dear boy,” Albus says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He has been on edge since you fell unconscious.” 

“Oh.” You’re not really sure what else to say. Judging by the way Albus is smiling, he’s trying to tell you something. You just don’t know what it is. 

Over the next few days, Severus accompanies you to every meal. He always performs spells to ensure nothing has been tampered with. You want to be thankful for the thought, but at this point, you’re just frustrated that you have to go to such lengths. 

You’re slowly starting to recover. The Potions regimen Severus left you is dwindling down, as you take lower doses with each passing day. But there are still lingering side effects. Your hands still have tremors; your vision still has brief bursts of painful clarity. You still feel a little nauseated when thinking about the student who constructed this charade.  

The paranoia has to be the most debilitating aftereffect of all, though. You’re sure it’s a logical response to a near-death experience, but it’s making things rather inconvenient. Despite all the reassurance you’ve been given—by practically every member of the Hogwarts staff and several Ministry officials—it still doesn’t feel like enough. You still have moments when you can’t even stomach the thought of eating—meal times spent huddled in a corner of your office, shaking as you’re assaulted with the prickling sensation you’ve grown to associate with Amortentia. 

You start to think you’re getting better. But then you get up from your desk late one night, only to crumple to the ground like a broken marionette. You can’t even push yourself up to your feet—instead left to slowly fade away on the floor of your office. You’re commanding your muscles to move but they’re ignoring your demands. Your skin is licked with flames and sweat. Suddenly, your throat feels extremely dry. Your office is spinning around you and, within seconds, you’re slipping into darkness once more. 

There is a cool cloth draped over your forehead when you wake. You stare up at the ceiling, your vision slowly returning to you. You attempt to push yourself up to a sitting position, but the effort is annoyingly difficult. There’s an almost imperceptibly quiet noise of frustration, before you’re being helped up with a hand on your forearm and another at your side. Your breaths are labored once you finally sit up. 

When your vision finally starts to calm down, you find yourself staring into familiar black eyes. “Severus,” you say. Your vision is spinning a little, but not enough for you to miss the irritated furrow to his brows. 

“I distinctly recall ordering you to notify me if any of your symptoms returned,” Severus states flatly. He looks entirely unimpressed. And damn it, now you’re feeling guilty again.

“…I didn’t want to bother you.” It sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. Severus briefly looks to the ceiling, as if wishing for it to swallow him whole and end his life. He seems to be exercising a nearly infinite amount of patience; you can tell by how much time he takes to respond.  

“This is the second time you’ve taken the liberty of making that decision for me,” he says coolly. It’s clear there’s a lot more he wants to say, but he holds his tongue. Instead, Severus scowls and casts a diagnostic spell. “No fever.”

“That’s good.” You say weakly. 

“The dosage must’ve been high,” Severus then says, his brows furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s speaking to you or himself, at this point. “It should be out of your system.” But it’s not, you think. It’s not out of my system, and I’m scared. 

“Severus-”  You try to say. 

“It will fade soon enough,” he states. That’s as close to reassurance as you’re going to get. “Rest. I’ll ensure you’re awake to take your next potion.” He says sincerely. 

And so you rest.

Seeing you in this state unsettles Severus far more than he’d like to admit. He tells himself his concern is of a professional nature and nothing more. He’s concerned for his colleague; and the implications of this Amortentia incident. After all, the bare facts still paint a startling picture: a Hogwarts professor drugged by a student, in the Great Hall during mealtime. The castle has always been regarded as one of the safest places in the wizarding world; yet a staff member has been harmed within its walls. 

Severus expected you to show resistance at the thought of seeking out the culprit; he was surprised, therefore, that you allowed him to sort through your mind in his search. No one has shown him that kind of trust before. Yet you unflinchingly met his eyes, and implored him to look into the depths of your mind. 

Severus did nothing of the sort, of course. He did not want to betray your trust, and so his perusal through your mind was quick and purposeful. The unusually tangled web that structured your thoughts did not escape his notice, of course. He knows you to be a rational person; such disorganization is an indicator of a deeper issue. In your case, it is a sign that the Amortentia hasn’t been completely removed from your system. 

Severus spends an immeasurable amount of time brewing the potions needed for your treatment. Brewing is usually a tranquil experience for him. Yet, today, he’s lost in his thoughts as he prepares ingredients. Fortunately, for a wizard of his expertise, distraction will not truly affect the result. He does seem to be in the lab for longer than usual, but then again, he doesn’t typically have occasion for brewing these particular potions. If everything goes according to plan, Severus will not need to brew any more potions like this for you. 

When he’s finished with the first few doses, Severus breaks away from the lab and returns to his personal quarters. You’re reclined on the sofa, looking exhausted and…vulnerable. Severus tears his eyes away. Truthfully, he has never allowed someone into his quarters before. It’s strange. Severus was convinced he would dislike it—that your presence would feel like an intrusion. But he knew he would be able to care for your symptoms much more effectively if you were near. And somehow, the sight of you manages to alleviate some of his prior concerns. He’d daresay your presence comforts him. 

…Maybe the Amortentia was transferred to him, too. He scoffs at the unlikely thought, but decides to subject himself to a quick diagnostic spell just in case. As Severus suspected, there is nothing wrong. These strange feelings are entirely of his own creation.

You’ve been looking at him with such a trusting gaze throughout this healing process that it makes Sevwerus want to vomit. He immediately wants to roll up his sleeve and force you to take in the warped mark across his forearm, if only to dispel you of the notion that he is in any way deserving of your trust. 

He only averts his eyes from your sleeping form instead, his throat feeling tight. What is it about you that provokes such sentiment within him? Severus shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t have the luxury to contemplate such things at the moment; right now, your health is the priority. 

When he has a moment to breathe, Severus informs Albus of the culprit. It slips his mind, for the briefest of moments, that the headmaster is stubbornly idealistic—and sees the best in everyone. Indeed, he should have expected Albus to provide an alternative method of disciplining the child. 

“Suspension.” Severus states blandly, glaring at the headmaster. “You believe suspension to be a suitable punishment for the unlawful administration of Amortentia.”

“And what would you suggest, Severus?” Albus asks, his eyes twinkling. He’s setting a trap for him. For some reason, unknown to Severus himself, the headmaster wants him to argue. 

“Expulsion, of course.” Severus scoffs. He isn’t sure what the old fool is trying to do here. 

“I can’t imagine your colleague was quite pleased with that suggestion.” Albus remarks, that damned twinkle in his eyes still taunting him. 

“Not at first,” Severus admits with a scoff. “Of course, upon discussing the likelihood of a similar incident occurring, the suggestion was better received.” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I see.” Albus responds. There’s a thin smile on his face. 

“What?” Severus nearly spits. “A professor has been drugged. This is no laughing matter, Albus.”

“Of course not.” Albus says sincerely. “Alas, I fear you are correct. Expulsion would be the wise choice. I shall inform the boy’s parents at once.”

Severus’s jaw clenches in irritation. That was far too easy. Albus is never so easily persuaded; and yet, he conceded without much argument. Just what does the old man have planned? The Potions professor regards him warily. 

“No need to be suspicious, dear boy.” Albus reassures him. The reassurance only makes Severus more suspicious. “I’m only thankful that you have found tolerable company here in the castle.”

Severus glares at him for several moments. His jaw is clenched and his teeth are gritted. “And how is this relevant, exactly?” He manages to spit out.

“It’s merely an observation.” Albus surrenders. He senses Severus is growing tired of this conversation. “And how is our young professor faring?”

“I’m developing an enhanced regimen to eradicate the Amortentia.” Severus responds, thankful for an excuse to talk about something else. “I brought my colleague,” he borrows the words of the headmaster, “to my quarters, to ensure proper adherence to the regimen.”

“Your quarters?” Albus asks lightly. He looks rather pleased with himself. The Potions professor’s wand hand twitches. “That’s rather forward of you, Severus.” Severus’s jaw nearly cracks with how hard he grits his teeth at the remark. Albus is wearing a victorious smile; the Potions professor immediately steels his composure and stares right back at the man. 

After what feels like far too long, the headmaster relents. “Keep me updated, Severus.” Albus remarks, his expression returning to an appropriate concern. 

Severus nods jerkily, before making his escape. He is never quite certain when a conversation with Albus will morph into an interrogation; this time was particularly catastrophic. He takes a few slow breaths as he returns to his quarters. 

Unsurprisingly, you are awake to greet him. Before either of you can descend into empty small talk, you’re breaking through the silence. “You… don’t mind me being here, do you?” You ask, glancing around the room as if realizing your surroundings for the first time. “I can return to my quarters, I’m sure.”

“Given the return of your symptoms, that would be unwise.” Severus says after a moment. It takes him longer than he’d like to formulate a response. “I’m afraid I will have to be… inconvenienced by your presence a bit longer.” Yes, it is truly inconvenient—because you provoke such unusual feelings in him. Every time he sees you in his quarters, he has these horrible urges to embrace… domesticity. It disgusts him. 

“If you insist.” You say hesitantly. Neither of you decide to acknowledge the tension that has settled in the air. Severus promptly returns to asking you about your symptoms, in an attempt to ward off these strange sentiments that spring to mind in your presence.

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endnotes: I feel like Severus is in a perpetual state of disgust: with himself, with the world around him... sigh. he's very fun to write for, though.

I genuinely forgot I wrote this and was so happy to find it in my drafts again. And then a few weeks passed and I forgot about it *again.* When I stumbled upon it again, I was very surprised to find it 99% complete, bahaha.

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

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