#also hi Us 👀

[scarefox]

oh? 👀

(x)

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[viveela]

I'm curious about your Lucifer design, I'd love to read notes about it 👀

Thanks for asking! I actually would love to talk about it, I can include my concept art as well:

My thought process is I see all angels using birds as their basis for their comprehendible forms! So his is meant to play off a cockatiel since his cheeks and hair already remind me of one! I pushed that further with the tailcoat looking like feathers, giving him more feathery hair, and his mouth having curvature similar to a beak

But also I see him being visually stuck as a snake as a punishment for what he did before becoming fallen, a reminder of what he's done and why he's where he is now...so the two features mix into his look! His face and body have scales, his eyes are more narrow, and his coat's hood is meant to look similar to the one of a snake as well

As for the colors I wanted to go little further with it! I felt it'd make sense if he was more cream and brownish red to symbolize being the one to cause the 'bite of the forbidden fruit' aka 'the apple'. When apples are bitten and left alone they oxidize, so I took inspiration from that for the changes. Meanwhile his staff is a literal depiction of this act, his colors a more subtle one, it's all tied together ^^

[14dayswithyou]

[REVOKED] [RETAINED] [RED̴A̸C̵͍̔T̵̰̓E̸̘̽D̸̳̻͕́̒]̵̱̈́̋

[sysig]

Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)

Bonus:

He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!

[macchitea]

thinking about how they might fight together :)

scav king dedede design by the wonderful @peculiurperennial !!

[chirpsythismorning]

El being *12 hours earlier* than the Cali timeline when she arrives at Nina. Will saying ‘it’s been 9 hrs’ in the scene following his monologue in the van.

We know that at some point their timelines merged when they arrived to save her…

But we don’t know when exactly those alignments took place when they were still apart… which just makes you wonder…

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny learns a few more words with practice.

Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.

…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.

They don’t even sound all that mean.

It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.

Firstly: horrible.

Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.

So. Uh. That’s…gross.

He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.

God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.

…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.

Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.

…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.

“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”

Anyway.

Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.

None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.

He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.

And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.

For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…

Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.

…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?

(It did, didn’t it?)

(…Didn’t it??)

His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.

It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.

Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.

He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.

...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.

He is sick. He has been sick.

The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.

He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.

And then he feels something weird.

Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.

There is something solid sticking out of him.

Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.

And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.

His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.

People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.

Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.

He doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.

They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.

He thinks he’s going to cry.

Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.

It’s the lady. He knows her.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.

She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?

She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.

“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”

She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.

Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.

But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.

“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.

But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.

There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,

Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.

When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.

Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.

They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.

It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.

The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.

Danny frowns.

The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.

The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.

Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.

The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.

And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.

Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.

Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.

The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.

Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.

She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.

“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.

The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.

It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.

[canirove]

Manchester United Vs. Fulham | 24.02.2024

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - Moon Ritual

Not the drabble idea i mentioned before but one I wanted to write quickly :3

I am sure you can guess who this one is about :3 It is time for the gang to summon and meet Nightmare.

*----------------------------*

Dust checks the circle he had been drawing before leaning back. Still not quite right. Damnit. This is a hard design to get right. He rubs some of the chalk away and starts with making the design again.

Cross, or well Killer in Cross's body, leans over his shoulder "Dusty!! I am bored! are we done here yet?" and he leans against Dust's back.

Dust freezes and notices that Killer is letting a hand wander. Dust hits backwards and hits the other in his face. Killer backs up wiht a groan and dsut glares over his shoulder "Stop trying to molest me every five minutes." and he turns back to his circle.

He fucking hopes this works. Otherwise Dust is not sure how to get Killer to unsync from Cross's body.

Cross floats near him. still hiding his face "I am so sorry." Dust just shrugs as he keeps working on the circle.

Ash glares at where Killer lays holding his skull groaning "You are a disappointment and a waste of life force and soul energy." Ash nods and floats towards Dust's side.

Dust tries to focus on the circle but hears Horror gently tell Killer to not bother Dust when he is working. That distracting Dust could end up getting him hurt.

Dust checks his notes again before looking back at the circle. It seems right...

Cross looks over his shoulder and tilts his skull "It is unlike any demon summoning circle i have ever seen before..."

Dust hums "It shouldn't." It wasn't a demon summoning circle at all after all. All the symbols and texts he had found decribed this being as a Fallen. Which can be read in different ways.

But Dust reasoned a demon wouldn't be called a Fallen. especially not a powerful demon. So he skipped the whole standard set up and worked from scratch.

Whichc is why it took him a while to get this one ready but it should work!

Of course Dust hasn't been able to test the ritual he made just yet and it isn't like you can really practise rituals safely. The whole summoning a being makes that a bit complicated.

Dust sighs as he steps back from the circle and nods. That is the best he can make it with his limited supplies.

Dust walks to the side and starts making a larger containment and shelter circle around the ritual circle. Best to make sure that whoever he summons is protected. It would be useless to summon someone only for them to die or get destroyed by say the very air.

Ash frowns as he checks the circle himself "You didn't specify which type of being you are summoning."

Dust shrugs "I don't know for sure what it is." He has ideas but if he puts in the wrong species he may just make the circle blow up on him. He can know, it happened before.

Ash frowns at it before floating to his side again "Make sure to add a desummon symbol just in case you can't make a deal and need to get rit of it."

Dust nods "Will do." He makes sure to put the desummon sigil between the containment circle and the shelter circle. Making sure the shelter one is the most outwards one and the being can't reach through the containment one to mess with the desummon sigil.

Once finished he checks all the marks and sigils before nodding as he walks back to the spot he had been preparing for himself. He checks his own protection circle and makes sure to prepare an antimagic shield as well. Ready to be activated when he wants it to.

Well. That is all the preparations he can do for this.

Well...almost. he turns towards the ghosts and actual person following him around "I am going to do the ritual. I need everyone, ghosts included, to stay within this circle." It will be a bit snug but he didn't feel like it was a good idea to experiment with hsi protection circle right before summoning an unknown being.

Horror frowns at him "Will you be okay? Takes a lot of magic."

Dust nods "I am fine."

Horror still looks deeply unhappy "But you skipped breakfast and lunch for this... shouldn't you eat before doing this?"

Dust shrugs as he walks towards the safe spot "I will be fine." and it isn't like he got the fonds to buy something at the moment. He needs to make the little he have last longer for as long as he can.

He just does not want to try to do another job and have Killer invite another ghost along. Nothing against Horror, he is very nice and behaves while being helpful, but he does not want another ghost anchored to his soul. There are already three now and Dust does not want to figure out what happens to a soul if too many beings use it as anchor.

He enters the circle and a moment later Killer is hugging him from behind. Dust glares "Killer!" fuck Cross's body is very warm and solid. That guy may be a priest but you would think he is a soldier or fighter or something with how strong he is.

Killer just hums as he tugs his skull and face right by Dust's neck and shoulder "What is wrong my bunny? I am in the circle aren't I?" Dsut can hear the grin in his voice. Then Killer hums happily "mmmh.... so warm and you smell so nice."

Dust glares and wiggles a bit but he is very stuck "You are fucking weird. Let go now. I need my arms for this."

Killer moves his arms around and he is now hugging Dust's lower middle and has his hands on his hips.

Dust uses his newly freed arm to hit Killer in the middle wiht his elbow. Fucking hell what the fuck does Cross EAT?! That guy's body is fucking all muscle and that is fucking impressive for an actual skeleton. How much trianing does it take for a skeleton's passive magic to be that strong and trained?!

Killer groans but finally lets go.

Dust glares at him "Back of the circle or so help me I am kicking you out and let whatever i summon do whatever with you."

Cross yelps and flaots closer "wait! Dust! Please don't! That isn't Killer's body remember!" he looks begging at him.

Dust sighs and nods. He knows. Which is why he hasn't done much more damage to the stupid flirt.

Talking and thinking about that stupid flirt. Killer lays on the ground by his legs and winks "I don't mind you on top of me Dusty. Just had to ask and I am happy to provide~"and he winks again!

Dust swears he sometimes wonders if there is just something in Killer's sockets which makes him wink this much!

Dust sighs and checks if all the ghosts are near as well. Everyone seems fine so he holds up his hands and concentrates. He knows that the blue in his eye light lights up. colouring all the circles first blue.

Dust lets his magic explore the circles and what to do where. Once he has a good feeling for it he concentrates and any blue turns a violet colour.

Dust mutters some old spells from long ago. They don't do anything but they help him concentrate his magic. Ways to make it easier to use the magic.

The summon circle lights up purple and Dust waits. He knows Ash is holding his breath.

Then it turns bright cyan and flames seem to rise form the circle. Dust pulls his own magic back as the summoning circle has been activated.

Ash shudders as he glides close to Dust's shoulder "that.... is very powerful... what exactly are you summmoning again?"

Dust feels his soul fill with anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea... He glances around and sees that everyone seems troubled. Killer is shaking and has taken to holding Dust close against his front. Arms locking him in place but this time Killer doesn't even seem to be trying to sneak a feel. Just holding him close. Dust can feel Killer's soul shivering and shuddering agianst his own back.

Horror seems close to hyperventilating as he seems to hold his own middle. Staring in front of him and his other hand seems to be worrying his headwound.

Cross is straight up shaking and muttering things to himself. looking close to a panic attack.

Then Dust remembers it, something specific in the notes he took. he grabs his notebook and starts searching for the right pages.

A being that brings negativity. It finds your weakness and exploids it for its own amusement.

Is this being causing this?

"Dust?"

It has to be right?

"Dust!"

But then it would be strong enough to already affect people without really having to be present!

"Dust!!"

Dust glares at Ash "What I am thinking." Obviously!

Ash points and Dust turns only to freeze.

There is a being made of someking of black goo. It is dripping in the circle and staring right at them with one shining glowing cyan eye.

Staring.

Waiting.

Dust quickly checks his notes. It isn't a fae so the fact the others said his name shouldn't matter. It is a being which thrieves on emotions and-

oh.

Dust closes his sockets and takes afew deep breaths. Mind over matter.

He is fine.

He prepared for this.

This thing can't hurt him.

He is okay.

His soul calms downa dn with it so do his emotions.

He looks at the others "Calm down. They won't be able to get to us." his feet is right by the activation symbol for the magical shield. HE doesn't think this is magic and so won't waste it right now. "It gets its powers from negative emotions. probably is causing them too. chill."

Ash looks at him and nods. He concentrates and obviously calms down. Dust knows his brother well and his brother knows him. Ash knows Dust wouldn't say that unless he is very sure.

Cross looks unsure but floats closer to Dust before calming a bit. seemingly trusting Dust to know what he is saying.

Hah. Dust hopes so.

Killer frowns at him and just pulls him closer. He clearly still doens't trust it and that is fine. as long as he remains calm and collected... which Dust knows is too mcuh to ask of Killer because it is Killer but Dust puts that out of his mind.

horror is harder to calm down just because Dust doens't know Horror that well but it seems Horror had been watching them already. Dust speaks calmly "Nothing you feel is what you feel really. It is just them doing this." Dust hopes. He isn't sure if this being can actually physically make their fake pains real but his shielding should protect them from it. It is too protect against harm after all.

Horror frowns but nods and pulls away from the wound and his middle.

Okay. Okay. He got this.

"Impressive. Waht gave it away that it was fake?"

Dust is shocked by this being's voice. It is deep and calm. The eye seems amused but Dust isn't sure how to ready this being just yet.

His growing and forming migraine isn't helping either. It is getting almost painful to concentrate on them. And Dust knows it is because this is a strong creature. Almost like his body tries to warn him when he gets near something too powerful for him to handle.

This being is much too powerful for him to have summoned. Oh shit.

The being tilts its head as it continues to look at him.

Right! It had asked a question.

Dust considers not answering them but if he wishes for them to break the bonds keeping Killer stuck in Cross's body he needs to have abit of a positive standing.

So. Chitchat.

Dust shrugs "Looked through some stuff... it mentioned you are connected to emotions and bonds made with those. Not specifically harming others at a distance."

The being nods as it looks abck to the circles "Interesting circles. I never seen any like them before. Usual people try the more..." they smirk "Traditional circles to get me. You know the ones. sacrifices."

Dust frowns as he looks to the side "Fucking idiots is what those people are. Why use does something that uses emotions have of something dead?"

The thing's smirk grows and they nods "Very true. Rather unimpressive and does not do well to impressive someone. For that matter. You have my attention. What did you wish of me... Dust was it?"

Dust nods "It still is." he rubs his notebook "I want to make a deal."

They grin and purr as they speak "Of course you do. What would you need of me?"

Dust points with his thumb over his shoulder to Killer "There is a poltergeist in this body that should not be in it. I want him out of this body so the original spirit who the body belongs to can enter it again."

The being tilts his skull again before focussing their sight on Killer. Dust can hear Killer start to growl and feel his grip on himself tighten.

The other looks amsued "You sure? He seems very fond of you."

Dust makes sure to look unimpressed and keep his voice deadpan "That is the problem. As spirit he is a lot easier to ignore. Now he is mobile and can cause property damage."

The being chuckles as they look at them all. Their magic glowing and reaching but the shield does its work and keeps them out. Dust raises a brow and the other smiles innocently "Can't blame me for trying." then a moment later as he looks thoughtful "huh... interesting."

Cross sounds nervous "what is?!"

The other looks amused "What exactly caused you to.... have your body... borrowed?"

Cross looks embarrassed as he crosses his arms. Yeah no. Dust does not have time for this. "The spirit was first anchorred to me. I asked Cross to remove said anchor. His ritual went wrong and this is the new situation."

The other chuckles as they shake their head "Of course it didn't work. You did a trade ritual."

Dust stops. So THAT is why the ritual circles had looked weird! Cross looks panicked "waht is that?! It can't have been... I used a ritual from old priest scrolls!"

the other nods "Yeah that would do it. It used to be the only way priests could get dmeons and spirits out of the victims bodies or away from them. By offering a trade. instead of just feeling parts of alive or temporary possessing they would offer their own bodies for the spirit. Giving the spirit a much better place to reside and live instead of the victim." more amsuement "of course... the priests using this also made sure to eat and drink holy to make sure that while their body was a free ride it also became a deathtrap."

Cross looks beyond alarmed "I didn't know that! Dust!!"

Dust holds up his hands "You came to me with that ritual. How was i suposed to know what it did?"

Cross waves his hands "You always know stuff about rituals!"

Dust groans but looks at the other being "Can you fix it?" because that is the real question.

The other seems to think for a moment. tap their chin before making a so-so motion "I may have a solution but it isn't what your friend probably wants. I can not undo the ritual completely but i can change it. I can make it that the poltergeist is no longer the holder and owner of the body."

Cross is already nodding but Dust frowns "What would happen if we did that route?"

They look amused "It means that his body? Becomes more of an... open territory, at least temporary. It means that if the spirit is strong enough and stubborn enough they can claim the body for a while to inhabit. the exact limits depends on the spirit and the body."

Cross sputters "You mean! My body becomes like a... a... rental?!"

the other stops and seems to think it over before nodding "In a way. Eventually your body and spirit should recover enough themselves to make it so you are anchored to your own body again. That is usually how the priests regained full control themselves after destroying the being they trapped. They would stay on holy ground to make sure no spiritis challenged their claims over their body. but that is all i can do."

Dust frowns "would cross need to be the only one in his body for that to work?" if that is the case they would need to get to the chapel real soon after Killer got evicted.

The other shakes his head "Not specifically. He would get his claim over his body back faster if he stayed on holy ground but even on neutral ground as someone else possesses him his body would know this is not the spirit that is suposed to be in it. and eventually kick it out. again, when this happens depends on the spirit and body themselves."

Dust frowns. meaning. Cross will eventually regain his full body control but it would take time. Killer, or any spirit for that matter, could possesses him and gain control over Cross's body. Leaving his spirit out of it. This would stay this way until either Cross can repossess himself over the spirit's control, or until cross's body realises the problem itself and kick out the uninvited guest.

He looks at Cross "Can you live with that?"

Cross seems to think before nodding.

Cool. at least this ritual and the near mental or emotional breakdowns weren't for nothing. Dust turns back to the being "What would you want in return for payment?"

The being hums and grins "a favor?"

Dust glares "No."

The being sighs but doens't sound disappointed or surprised "Can't blame me for trying." then he looks at them again. clearly in thought.

They nod and smile "I want a very specific thing. An artifact I lost a while ago. I want you. To find it and bring me to it so i can reclaim it."

Dust raises a brow "So you wnat me to find it and summon you near it?"

The other smirks and shakes his skull "I want you to make haste to find it. So i will remain here in this realm as you search it. the deal is completed as soon as i have it back in my possession. and then any debt is repayed."

Dust stands there and groans "Are you fucking kidding me!?" he covers his skull as he just hangs his head in his hands.

Killer holds him clsoer "Dusty? what is wrong?"

Ash however is cursing as well as he figured it out too.

Dust glares "I already HAVE three spirits stuck to me! Two of which who werne't invited! Why would i add another one to that!?"

The other smiles as he crosses his arms "that is my price."

Dust glares "I am not even sure if i can savely make another anchor. This is too high risk." not to forget he doesn't even know if this being needs a stronger connection or takes more magic to be here. Dust only has so much energy and magic.

The being waves it off "I wouldn't be anchored to you. I would be anchored to the very concept of our deal. The reason I would be here and be able to stay would only be because of the deal. the deal is completed? I will return to my realm and you would be debtfree."

Dust frowns as he thinks it over. okay at least not another anchor. he frowns "What if i can't get the artifact?"

The other being smirks "the debt would remain. but i am not unfair. sometimes people can still complete tasks from beyond the grave and i am patient."

Dust frowns "what is even the artifact?"

The being smiles "Why would you need to know?"

Dust glares "I would need to know if i need to find it."

the being considers it before nodding "It is an artifact normally used for rituals connected to the god of destruction."

Dust thinks for a moment before his sockets widen. He may have a clue... He knows that the cults have been obsessed with a god of destruction.

Dust nods "Okay. you break the bond now. and in trade i help you get to that artifact." Ash looks unsure but clearly trusts him tom know what he is doing.

The being smiles as he holds out a hand. it glows cyan "So. we have a deal?"

Dust nods "We have a deal." he exits the protective circle and goes to the very edge of the containment circle.

They stare at each other.

the being smirks as they hold out a hand "I. Nightmare. King of negativity agree to the terms of the prediscussed deal. which consists that i will remove the spirit stuck in Cross's body and remove the claim it has under it. In return Dust will assist in the search of the artifact used in rituals of the destroyer. once this artifact is foudn the deal is complete and will be done."

Dust takes a deep breath as he raises his hand and covers it with his own magic aura. only a soft weak violet light compared to the fluorescent blue that the being, Nightmare, gives off.

They shake hands and Dust can see the magic settle on his own hand and a small cyan mark on his hand. it is shaped like a moon.

He takes his hand back and Nightmare steps out of the circle "Very good circle work. I look forwards to working with you." Nightmare walks right over to Killer in Cross's body.

Killer glares but Nightmare does not look impressed. He grabs the soul and motions towards the soul. the soul turns cyan blue and Nightmare pulls his arm and hand back.

Dust watches as the soul is forcefully removed ffrom Cross's body and Kilelr's spirit follows it.

Cross's body goes limp as Nightmare holds Killer away from the body. a small line of red connecting the two. Nightmare grabs the line and snaps it.

Cross gapss and dives back into his own body.

Ngihtmare releases both Cross and Killer and crosses his arms.

Cross taps and checks his own body before falling to the ground "oh fuck... fuck i am me. Dust! Dust thank you so much!"

Ngihtmare looks amsued "It will take time before spirits can't easily possess you anymore. I would skip making or doing rituals for a while."

Killer pouts and floats over to Dust and pouts at him "But dusty. Now i can't join you in bed anymore."

Dust glares "You weren't welcome to begin with."

okay.

okay!

Cross's body situation is mostly sorted or will be sorted over time.

Which just leaves. getting Killer and Horror disconnected from him.

Maybe after this deal is complete he can discuss with Nightmare about other deals to unanchor both of them.

For now! Best repay the debt before he adds to it...

Time to do some more reading and research on this cult of destruction.

[anxious-art-block]

Aid

|| Click for better quality || DO NOT REPOST ||

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[yumethefrostypanda]

Not gonna tag this, feel like i'm spamming too much as is XD ik i keep saying that. Soo uhm, sorry to my sweet mutuals and followers but i gotta drop this here.

For the Ghost stans! 💀

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[softiedingo]

save me daniel ricciardo in slutty shorts and red bull cap save me

[resident-gay-bitch]

Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.

Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.

Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.

Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.

Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.

Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.

Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.

And certainly not by James.

He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.

He should have known better.

He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.

He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.

And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.

Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.

Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.

He knows better now.

It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.

It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.

They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.

Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.

Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.

Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.

Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.

Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.

“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”

Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.

“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.

He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.

“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.

“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.

“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.

“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”

“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.

Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.

“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.

Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.

It’s oddly silent.

It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.

But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.

Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.

The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.

Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.

Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.

“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.

Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“

“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”

Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”

Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”

“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.

Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.

They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.

Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.

There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.

They all hurt just the same.

“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”

“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”

Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”

“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”

“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.

“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”

“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”

“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”

Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”

“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”

“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”

Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.

Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.

Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.

But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.

Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.

“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”

Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.

“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.

“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”

“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”

Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”

Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.

He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.

Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.

Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”

“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”

Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”

“Thanks.”

“No problems, Black.”

Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.

It’s so strange. He’s so strange.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.

“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.

“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”

“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”

Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”

“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”

“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.

Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.

“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”

Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”

“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”

Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.

“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”

Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”

Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.

“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”

Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.

“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”

“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”

“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.

“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.

“Oh, Reg…”

“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”

His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.

It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.

“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”

“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.

“Isn’t everything I do weird?”

Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.

Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.

He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.

Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.

“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”

Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”

Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.

“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”

Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Regulus asked.

“About me…”

“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.

“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.

“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”

Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“

“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”

“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”

Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?

“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”

Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.

He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.

No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.

And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.

But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.

He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.

Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.

He’s Barty’s first choice.

And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.

He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.

It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.

And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.

He does that with other people, doesn’t he?

Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.

Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”

Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”

“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”

Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”

Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”

“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”

Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”

“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”

“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.

Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“

“Well, don’t you want to be more?”

“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.

“What?” Regulus scoffs.

“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”

“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”

“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.

Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.

“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”

Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”

Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”

“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”

“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”

“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”

“And how do you need it?”

“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”

Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”

Regulus smiles, “You are.”

Barty shakes his head.

“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”

Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”

Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”

“Really?” Barty sobs.

Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”

Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.

Regulus has never been kissed like that before.

Regulus has never been loved before.

He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.

★ ★ ★

Bartylus shippers unite.

This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.

Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.

Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)

Read here on ao3

If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))

Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus