#and haunt occasionally lights on fire

[hauntlichstanaccount]

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alley Boyfriends Part 2

It turns out pretending to be a fake boyfriend involved more planning than Danny had realized was necessary.

Personally, he was thinking he would occasionally be asked to hold Tim's hand in semi-public, tell people about maybe three or four fake dates, and be done with it.

Tim, on the other hand, created a backstory that would make any Dungeon Master weep in complicated worldbuilding joy.

"Why would we keep our relationship a secret?It has to be a valid reason for why we meet in a back alley most of the time but still go out in public to eat." Tim asked him, three notebooks spread around him. All three were written in code, but once they finished creating the tale to his preference, Tim planned on burning them.

Cause that was something people in Gotham did. He wasn't even joking. One of his coworkers invited him to a journal-burning just last week. He went to see what it was about, turns out it was this cities verson of a block party. There were a lot of little groups hudled around movaible fire pits, throwing in paper, laughing and drinking and just being merry.

He checked online to ensure he hadn't accidentally joined a cult. He hadn't; Gotham was just like that.

"I'm from the Midwest—a small town in the Midwest. Maybe I'm not out yet?" Danny suggests with a shrug, slumping in his chair to get comfortable.

Tim snaps his fingers at him with a manic light in his eyes. "That's brilliant. We'll have to go through all your social media to screen for any hints of you being in the alphabet mafia. Now, why would you worry about being spotted four states away? Internalized homophobia?"

Danny shrugs, watching Tim consider his notes, flipping between pages on all three notebooks. Apparently, to ensure their cover story worked, Tim needed to have a notebook dedicated to three themes. The first was their Mental choices—such as a profile of their personalities both before and after their "dating," when they fell in love, and how their upbringing affected them in romantic relationships.

Physical choice—such as how many times they held hands and where the dates were, their attraction types in the pshycal sense, and where they met.

Finally, there weres the Narrative choices—these were people outside their couple. Who saw what, when, and how?. Social media was in there.

"No. That doesn't make sense." Tim sighs showing him the Narrative one. On it are a jamble of words, written so tiny, even if they were noraml Danny would not understand them. "See? Your online humor is about thirty percent gay. Not to mention you've been to Pride in Gotham already."

Tim taps the other notebook, where, supposedly, he is gesturing to the proof of Danny being too comfortable in gay spaces to have internalized homophobia. Danny wonders why he needs this much information, and who the hell would look so far into their fake realtionship.

Once again he wonders who Tim is. Oh, he's been making coffee for the other for days now. Always having his travel mug ready to go at seven am sharp for the other to pick up in the Alley, and had texted him for quick meet ups to trade Heart Attak Coffee.

Sometimes they would send funny memes to each other, and ask eachother about their day. They messaged but it waswn't really deep.

It's also been too late to ask Tim for his last name. It would be embarrassing to admit he either forgot when the other told him or he forgot to ask. His mother would be horrified by his manners.

"It would be sense if we were closer to your hometown, but this would barely hold up against my employees, much less the family." Tim sighs taking a long sip of his coffee. At once, Danny watches his whole body relax, and his eyes light up.

He wonders about that too. Tim reacted to Heart Attack coffee like a ghost interacting with their Obsession.

Tim isn't dead or died from what Danny can tell, but he had obvious signs of death around him. Not enough to be liminal like Jazz, so he wasn't ecto-exposed nor haunted.

He has likely just been in many life-threatening situations. Danny had noticed back in Amity that people like firefighters, military, police officers, and the like- those whose entire jobs meant putting themselves at risk- had the sense of Death gently curling around them. Almost like a flirtation.

He seen a lot more people like that in Gotham, though ussally they were on the opposite side of the previous named workers and he realized that Tim had to be involded in something.

Something big, if the nice suits, expensive coats, countless flowers, tips, and free lunches were any indication. Should he be worried about being in a fake relationship with him?

"Oh! We're a secret because this is both of our first boyfriends!" Tim cheers after a moment. "We are both worried about two different things. I don't want to mess things up due unresolved attachment and abandonment issues not to mention my terrible self-worth and communication skills."

That.....is terrifying self-aware. Danny can only stare as Tim nods his head, flipping some pages and writing more notes down. He switches between green and blue ink pens whenever he is writting so he knows which note applies to who.

Danny thinks he's green.

"You, on the other hand, have a mix of fear of your family finding out, terrible self-esteem due to years of bullying, and fear of commitment. I think we both can play off feeling that if we can't be of use to people, they will leave us mentality, so we never set up proper boundaries just to be safe." Tip pauses, tapping the pen to his bottom lip, eyes focused intensely on his work.

There is a hint of....ghost in his eyes, gleaming just behind his humanity.

He is Ghost King, which means he does not control or know when someone dies, as that is out of his jurisdiction. Not everything that dies becomes a ghost, just like not every ghost has ever lived after all.

In fact, not all of his citizens were humans to begin with or came from humans.

He had command of demons, in the same sense that he did concepts like Time (Clockwork) because they were between Realms. The ones that fell between the cracks of the fabric of worlds were Danny's.

Still, he came to recognize that someone had the potential to be one when their time came. Tim was most definatily a ghost in the making.

That left the question. What would be his Obsession once Tim finished forming?

Something directly involved in his death like Box Ghost (Crushed by a box due to his co-workers' careless prank?) Or something he felt he should have been given in life like Young Blood (Too sick to enjoy his childhood like other children and resentful of neglectful parents who ignored his pain?)

Danny tried to picture it, but they could see a glowing figure racing about wanting coffee and being unnecessarily involved with event planning.

Then again, he thinks, watching as Tim takes small glances at him as if making sure he is still there. He might be Obsessed with routines and being needed by people.

It wasn't really about the lack of caffeine. Instead, it was about the fact Heart Attack Coffee had been a comfort since childhood. Tim needed to feel like he was in control. Danny noticed that the second the other had burst into tears after being denied the coffee.

It was like taking Ember's guitar. His soul had dimmed. That's why Danny gave it to him while carefully checking to ensure Tim wasn't being Overshadowed. If he was, then he would kick the ghost's ass in the alley, away from wandering eyes.

He shivers again when a coldness from his chest zips across his limbs. Ever since Danny developed his ice core, he felt that he had been susceptible to the cold. He still remembers the day his core formed, how he was shivering in the summer to Sam's and Tucker's confusion.

He often found himself piling on scarves and sweaters, even when outside of winter.

Gotham wasn't nearly as cold as Amity Park- they would get a lot of snow compare to here- but it didn't seem to matter to his core.

He gets up to drag over the space heater and figures he may as well get some hot chocolate. His stomach growls, reminding him food would be a good idea, too. "You want something to eat Tim?"

There is a grunt that he learned meant "Yeah, I can eat" from Tim's hunched-over form. He smiles, grabbinghe throw blanket to wrap around himself.

His apartment wasn't too bad considering it was close to Crime Alley. It was odd and a bit outdated, but it was enough space for one person, the hot water lasted longer, and there was no mold or break-ins.

It nearly made up for the fact the walls were paper thin, which did nothing to keep the bitter Jack Frost out; his landlord shut off the heat a few weeks ago for "maintenance" and did not turn it back on.

According to his neighbors, he always does so to save funds. It sucked, but none of them could afford to move away, Danny included.

It would be bearable if Danny's insides weren't literally freezing.

He starts to cook a nice warm soup, chopping up some chicken and noodles, mindful of Tim's continued muttering in the background. It's nice, like having his own white noise machine.

A second wave of ice-ice cold races over his body. Danny glances at Tim, but it seems the other had gotten comfortable near his space heater, and it would be rude to take it across the room just because he was cold when his guest was already using it.

Maybe he'll buy a second one at the second-hand store on his next paycheck. He watches his soup boil as he adds some spices for flavoring, curling in on himself as the throw blanket seems to not be warming him fast enough.

He hates when he gets cold fits like this. They don't happen as often now that he pratice with his ice core but they effect his human side the longer he goes without ising his ice powers.

In a anti-meta city like Gotham he just hasn't found a safe place to do that yet.

Danny's hands ache from the trembles running through them- he slips on some gloves, trying to squeeze warmth back into it. He then goes across the room to the hooks by the wall after giving in, there he puts on a scarf, his coat and a beanie so his ears can warm up too.

"Are you cold?" Tim asks as Danny returns to the stove

Danny laughs from where he is stirring the soup. It is such an understatement he can't do anything else. "Freezing."

"Why not turn up the heat?"

"Landlord shut it off." Danny shrugs at Tim's look of disbelief. "It's okay I've gotten used to it. Just need to make a nest of clothes later to warm up. Soup will help too."

"Does he shut off your heat often enough that you've gotten used to it?" Tim's voice is strangely flat. Danny shrugs.

"He shuts off stuff, like the AC and electricity all the time. A month ago, he shut off the water; that was a rough two weeks." Danny jokes, thinking of how often he had to use the public bathrooms at the library to brush his teeth; he showered in the community gym. He tells Tim this. "Thank the Ancients for the Waynes. If it wasn't for them funding the gym, library, and laundry mat I probably would have it worse"

Tim stares at him for a long minute. Without a word, he reaches for his work laptop, which lay close to the side in favor of the notebooks two hours ago.

Danny isn't sure what exactly Tim does for work—he isn't sure it's legal, so he reframes from asking—but he does know that recently, he has been over to Danny's apartment a lot more to hash out the details and doing remote work at the same time.

He boots it up, fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed that still impresses Danny, even after seeing him type for the past few days. Assuming he returned to work, Danny returned to his own task. He carefully pours them both two bowls- mindful of his gloves- and warms up the mild for their hot chocolates.

They are not the healthiest of combinations, but both boys are comfortable with odd food choices. He caries the tray back to the table, blaket dragging behind him.

Tim stares intensely at the screen, nodding thanks to him when he puts a bowl down by his hand. "What do you think of this?"

Danny glances at the screen and sees a really lovely penthouse. It's spacious, overlooking Gotham's diamond district with five rooms, two baths and even a boucany pool and hottub.

It screams money, with its large arched windows, dark carpet, and grey pillars. He even spots a grand piano in the living room. Danny whistles, "Damn, I would love to live there."

"Okay, it's yours," Tim says, clicking the chat box with the realtor. He types out a quick agreement for the purchase and opens another tab with his private banker and lawyers, commanding them to have the place ready for him in two days—all without reaching for his mouse. An agreement comes through before Danny can do anything other than gawk as Tim adds his name to the owner's list.

Tim seems unaware of Danny's flabbergasted look of awe as he taps into a few more tabs, researching cleaning crews and moving companies. "We can move you on your day off. The cleaners can help you pack if you need it while you're at work, and the moving crew can get it over the city for you. I'm also buying this place. It's ridiculous that he just shuts things off. "

Just who in the world is this guy!?

____________________________________________________

Across the city, Babs stares at Tim's online orders. She has been told to keep an eye on himbecause Jasons worries about his suspected drug problem.

Everyone in the family has been somewhat uneasy about the possibility. Babs will admit her heart broke when she found hours and hours of him meeting the same shady looking teenager entering the same back alley over and over again.

He always came out looking flustered and a bit jittery, and she also thought it wasn't a secret lover like Bruce and Dick had hoped. She had always been a least optimistic, and her cameras- even the ones she hacked into to review recorded surveillance for the past three showed her the ugly truth.

Tim was an addict.

She had been working on her letter for the intervention they would be holding for him, typing past her tears, when this popped up. She blinks and takes her glasses off to wipe them before checking to see if she is seeing correctly.

But nope, the words stay the same. She slowly reaches for her headset and clicks it on. At once, her ear overflows with various voices from everyone on the field.

Tim is the only one not out currently, but she can clearly see why.

"Tim just bought a penthouse for Danny Fenton. He also has two sets of cleaning crews, one to Fenton's address and one to his own. Two sets of moving crews have been added to both addresses, each ending at the same penthouse. He's going to be living with him," She announces, silencing everyone at once. "Does that sound like drug dealer behavior?"

"Omg," Dick cries at once. Relief and joy overlap his voice as he screams into the mics "Love wins!"

"Let's not celebrate too soon. We still have to figure out what the hell those alley meetings are about," Jason warns. "If it is a drug dealer, moving in together will be the worst thing possible to T."

"Agree. We prob him but carefully so he doesn't catch on." Bruce comands "Act as ussual to get as much information out of Tim."

"So.....we throw him a house warming/investation on his boyfriend party?" Steph asks the sound of wind accompanies her words. She is likely grappling towards Danny's apparment to check on Tim.

She has gotten the habit of doing so ever since Danny has been flagged by Jason. Steph has reported the same thing evertime. Tim seemed to just been doing work at Danny's table, drinking teas and cuddling together in front of Danny's cheap tv.

She thought it was all very domestic, even when her eyes tracked every movement Danny made. Of course she couldn't get too close least Tim would catch on.

"Exactly."

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒹

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, smutty headcanons, virginity mention, dirty talk, rough sex, just general nasty things

Michael Myers

Let’s be honest—this man was a virgin before you showed up

He was in a mental institution from a young age—not exactly the best place to fuck

Still, that certainly didn’t stop him

He picked up on what to do fast—it’s not all that difficult

Still, he definitely focused on himself

Whether or not you came was not his problem

You have to take matters into your own hands when it comes to that, using your fingers to work at your clit

Most of the time your body is jostled around to much to do so

He’s not gentle

Whatsoever

Things will be broken

The bed?

A bone?

Who knows

You have so so many marks

Bruises

Cuts

You always look like you fell through a wood chipper 

It’s not like you could reason with him, though

“Hey, can you, I don’t know, be gentle for once and not fuck me against a countertop?”

Yea, that would go over well

He gets. . . better. . . eventually

Still mostly selfish

But may rub against your clit as he’s pounding into you

By accident?

Unclear

Expect to walk with a permanent limp

RIP

Definitely into knife-play

So many shredded clothes

C’mon, what’d you expect?

The mask stays on during sex

Obviously

If he’s super comfortable he might pull it up enough to bite you

But don’t expect to catch a glimpse of his face

After-care? What’s that?

You clean yourself up 99% of the time

The only time he’s ever done anything was when you passed out during sex and woke up in your bed

Other than that, you don’t expect him to provide any cuddles 

He doesn’t even sleep in the same bed at night

Jason Voorhees

Tries his best to be so so so gentle with you

Also a virgin before you showed up

Not many people were lining up to fuck an undead monster haunting a summer camp

He’s. . . big. . . everywhere

It takes a while before you’re even able to take him properly

It’s not that you were unprepared, but at the slightest flinch of your face Jason would pause and refuse to touch you again for hours

You made sure to explain that you were fine and that you weren’t made of glass

But he was still petrified of hurting you

Still, when he finally calms enough to fully fuck you one night, you’re seeing stars

He’s slow and cautious, but eventually something lights a fire within him

Rubs his masked face into your neck apologetically as he rams into you

When you’re walking funny the next day he carries you everywhere

You don’t blame him for getting carried away sometimes, and even enjoy a little roughness more-often-than-not

He tries his best with after-care but is pretty clueless as what to do with you

When you’re exhausted and curled in on yourself he thinks he’s permanently hurt you

You tell him gently to run you a bath

Will attach himself to your hip and snuggle you until one of you is forced to get up

Nestles his masked nose against any marks he may have caused, letting out a low whimper

You run your hand down his back

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

Tries to make your pleasure his number one priority

Will listen intently as you bashfully explain what you want and like

Does as told

He’s a little rough, massive fingers toying with your clit hard enough to have you wincing

But eventually he gets the hang of it

Refuses to cum until you have

Even when you’re giving him head, he always has to be touching you in some way, getting you off just as much as your getting him off

Sometimes he can’t help himself and cums before you, only to let out a low whine of disappointment, like he was ashamed of himself

You’re never far behind, anyways

One of the most selfless lovers you’ve ever had

The fact he doesn't speak doesn't even cross your mind

He gets his points across fine with his actions and occasional low rumbles 

And you were never much for dirty talk, anyway 

Bo Sinclair

He’s a wild-card 

Some days he’s feeling generous enough to nestle his head between your legs, other days he’s got you gagging on his dick until can’t breathe

You’re unsure of what impacts his attitude, every night getting ready to expect something different

You supposed he had a lot of things happen in life, you couldn’t blame him for being a little hot-and-cold about things

Regardless of what’s happening, he’s got a lot to say about it

If he’s not growling in your ear, teasing you with dirty words as he rams into you, then he’s moaning loudly against your lips or neck

You don’t think he’s ever quiet for more than a few seconds

What he says varies, too

Some days it’s nothing but praise

“Whatta good girl you are. C’mon, sweetheart. You can do it. Almost there—there it is, darlin’. Don’t you look like a beauty chokin’ on my cock?” 

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep sayin’ my name. Feel good, huh? Don’t close those pretty lips of yours. I wanna hear ya when I fuck ya.” 

Other days he’s grabbing your ass harshly, scolding you for muffling your moans against his neck

“The fuck you think you’re doin’? You’re nothin’ but a whore, don’t try ‘nd be bashful now.”

“What a slut. Look how wet you are for me. Gettin’ off on the thought of me fuckin’ you, bitch?”

It’s enough to give you whiplash

Still, you can’t complain that it’s boring

And it’s not like you don’t get your own enjoyment out of it

Whether or not he lingers after he fucks you depends on nothing in particular

Sometimes he’ll pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling praises in your ear as he caresses your body

Other times he’ll put his boxers back on and rest against the door frame, just staring at you as you clean yourself up

He never leaves without making sure you’re alright, though

No matter how rough he was with you he gently traces over your body, making sure nothing hurt to bad

Then he’s back to his cocky self, trying to pretend he didn’t just treat you like a princess

There’s always marks littering your neck and shoulders

The sight of them is enough to let any tourists know to fuck off

You tried to cover them once with a high collared shirt but it only ended with more hickies and bite marks, this time high enough on your neck that even a turtle neck couldn’t hide them

He’s possessive, always having an arm or hand around you when talking to strangers that come by

He’ll, even around his own brothers he’s like that

He’s always smacking your ass or planting a kiss to your lips, leaving you to yelp in surprise

This man has a breeding kink

That’s just the facts

The thing is, the idea of having a kid makes him gag

He’s not a fan of the little gremlins

But something about you—thighs wrapped around his hips as he cums into you—the fullness of your cunt—the slight bulge of your belly—always gets him going

Maybe it’s the distant idea of raising a half-normal family for once

For now, you stay on birth control

Vincent Sinclair

He’s extremely introverted and self-conscious

You have to be the one to initiate most things

Even then he’s unsure of himself

He’s afraid he’ll scare you somehow

The first time you two are intimate it’s simply soft touches, your lips trailing over his skin as your hands stroke at his dick

It’s not sex

It’s too soft for that

You hated to use the word love-making, but you supposed that’s what it was

After his confidence is built up enough to take control, he catches on fast

He has a niche for precise finger-work, given his work as a sculptor, and has you cumming on his hands more times than you can count

He keeps his mask on 99% of the time

You don’t force him to do otherwise

It’s his comfort object

As long as he’s happy, you’re happy

Still, there are times where he pulls it off, only to hide himself between your legs

The first time he ate you out, he insisted upon a blanket draped over your bottom half, but he’s past that now, knelt down in front of you, fingers clutched against your thighs as he pushes his tongue further inside of you

You make sure to praise him every time he makes you feel good—wanting him to know it was him getting you off

It definitely helped his self-esteem

He’s still distant when others are around, but you’ve gotten to the point where you can sit in his lap and play with his hair while Bo lounges on the couch

Bo still gives you two playful taunts, but he’s just happy his brother found someone

Though he really needs to invest in some ear-muffs if you keep up with the moaning at god-knows-how-late-at-night

*cough* waxplay *cough*

[writtenbyaperson]

"Touch Base" Zuko x Reader

Summary: You get to touch Zuko's hair and it means a lot more to him than he expected. Word Count: 872 Genre: Fluff, F!Reader

"Wow, soft."

Zuko's hair slides between your fingers. Your wish is being granted by him today. A lucky indulgent day.

"I expected the texture to be…" you form a claw and rake through his brown hair like a school nurse inspecting for lice "like Appa."

"…"

He's offended.

"Like Appa." Zuko repeats with a flat tone. Appa grunts, responding to his name.

"She means that in a good way, buddy." Aang says. Always the mediator.

"Don't make me regret this." Zuko says.

He crosses his arms. If he had eyes on the back of his head they would be staring at you pointedly.

"Sssorry" You whisper faintly. You shut up as to not cut this moment short with your marathon runner of a mouth.

Gingerly you pet and rub the new hair growing on Zuko's scalp with your finger pads. The strands are surprisingly healthy and thick. Does he take care of his hair? Your hands brush from the roots to the ends to even out the hair oil. Occasionally scratching down the back of Zuko's neck. The tension in his neck eases. His whole head even bending to the side a little as you pull back his sideburns with fingernails. Zuko closes his eyes, subdued by the massage. Be damned with how he looks. Every vibration cascades from apex of his skull to the base of his spine. He can't ever remember being given treatment like this at all. "Maybe I could braid-"

"T-that's enough hair touching." Zuko waves your hands off his head. A light pink colors his cheeks. You smile and apologize. At least he was nice enough to entertain you.

"Why don't you ever let me touch your hair?" Katara asks Aang. He mocks a laugh as he cracks walnuts into a bowl.

"You did have hair for a while there, Aang." You say.

"Yeah… it didn't feel right." Aang rubs the back of his head with a bashful toothy smile. Probably trying to forget about what lead up to that hair growth.

--

Cricketfish sit on the lillies in the lakes. Filling the night with incessant chirping. Zuko tosses and turns. It's stupidly loud for a peaceful building. Plus the bed roll fibers prick him at every angle. He grunts. Giving up, he gets out of bed. Screw sleeping again. The gaang already had dibs on the bedrooms that didn't cave in from being abandoned. So he was left with the depressing children's play room. Sokka made sure to take a jab at him when they gave him the room. There's no way to check the time, so he'll have to wait out the sunrise. Quietly as he can, Zuko leaves the room.

The straw door is permanently pried open. Walking out into the hallway he can see walls lined with rounded windows and the view is extravagant, he never noticed it before. Being too caught up in pointless chases. Tall mountainous islands covered in verdant moss peak through dreamy clouds. Rushing water and peaceful creatures add music to the background. A thin lining of trees surround the building.

"Zuko."

Zuko turns his head, his heart switching gears at being caught up roaming the temple. He calls your name thinking he recognizes the tone. There is no response. Maybe he misheard.

The southern part of the temple was coaxing him, he follows, despite resistance pulling at his stomach. On the way, carvings of Airbenders being jovial and participating in ceremonies lay in the weathered stone. Whimsical imagery by day is haunting at night. Laughing monks mock him as he lights a small flame in his hand to guide him the rest of the way.

He's closer to the source of what called him. Curiosity licks. "Hello?" Zuko whispers.

He pauses.

All of the noise disappears, he could only hear his breaths and the crackle of fire. The south end of the temple bleeds out into a balcony that overlooks the land. The rails thick and crumbling. A blanket is folded up off to the side. He lets the fire go out and goes to the edge.

The sun should come up in a few hours. Fresh moon light glazes the edges of leaves on the trees underneath. Dewy fog coats everything.

Zuko looks at the blanket. Unlike the architecture, it looks fairly new. Plush.

The past month dragged on too long, treacherously tiresome. After pleading his case to the group, the guilt still ate at him. If he didn't get any sleep he'll get sick just like last time.

Zuko's not sure if he would admit it to you, but when you brushed out his hair and massaged his head, he felt peace. A stillness from the turmoil inside him. Each breath was clear and refreshing. The tightness capturing his body let him go for that fleeting moment.

Zuko isn't one for conversation. You were so delicate with him. He'd been touched by people before but even when you were just gratifying your want of touching his hair, you were still so attentive to him. The care you gave satiated a hunger he ignored.

Moving to the middle of the balcony, he sits cross legged. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He manages a smile.

"Thank you."

[raekensluver]

melodies of love

description: you and your childhood best friend theodore nott have been through thick and thin together, so when he tells you he's leaving, paired with a confession, it changes everything.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: mentions of parental death, latent fathers, late-night love confessions, theo plays piano!!!!!, musician!theo, modern au!

song rec: symphony by clean bandit ft. zara larsson- “life was stringing me along, then you came and you cut me loose."

w.c: 2.0k

an: i have been waiting so longgggg to use the middle photo of lorenzo.

the room was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the curtains dancing with the night breeze. the bed beneath you was warm and comforting, the familiar creaks of the old wooden frame a gentle lullaby. you laid there sideways, your legs hanging off the edge, the mattress slightly indented from your weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp painted the walls with a golden hue, casting a serene scene of shadows and light.

you felt the anticipation build in your chest, your heart beating slightly faster as you thought about the stories theo might share tonight. the late night talks had been your ritual since you both discovered that insomnia was a shared burden. you'd lay in the darkness, whispering your secrets and fears into the night, knowing that the other was always there to listen.

the bond between you and theo was forged in the fires of shared pain. both of you had fathers who were more like shadows than guardians - present but never really there. the cold shoulder from your father had been a harsh reality you learned to navigate early on, while theo had to deal with the tyranny of his own. it was your mothers' gentle spirits that had truly bound you together. lost too soon to the merciless grip of illness and a tragic accident, their memories remained a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving world of your fathers.

you remembered the particularly bad nights, the ones where the darkness outside was only a reflection of the turmoil within. when the house was too quiet, and the sadness was too heavy to bear alone, you would sneak out of your room, tiptoe down the stairs, and out the back door. the cool grass beneath your bare feet was a comforting reminder of the outside world that waited for you beyond the walls of your father's frigid domain. the night air was a balm, carrying the scent of the blooming lilac bushes that lined the fence separating your yards.

you would slip into theo's house, the soft tinkle of the piano in the parlor guiding you like a lighthouse beam through the stillness. his mother had been a pianist before her illness took her, and the piano remained, a silent sentinel of happier days. theo had taught himself to play, and his music was the voice that soothed your soul. the melodies he conjured in those small hours were bittersweet, a testament to the love and loss that haunted your shared past.

his room was always the same, a sanctuary filled with books and knickknacks that reflected his boundless curiosity. the walls were plastered with posters of faraway places and people, a silent declaration of his desire to escape the confines of your small town. the bed was unmade, the bedspread a tapestry of wrinkles from his restlessness, but there was always a spot next to him where you felt safe. you'd slide under the covers, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill that had followed you from your own room.

his eyes would light up when he saw you, a smile playing on his lips as he whispered a quiet "hey." theo had the kind of smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, a trait you envied and adored. you would share your day's troubles with him, the mundane and the profound, and he would listen with a rapt attention that no one else ever seemed to have. his eyes never left yours, as if by looking away he might miss something important, something only you could tell him.

his voice was low and soothing, a balm to your soul on those dark nights. you felt as if you could tell him anything, and he would understand. the way his fingers danced over the piano keys, the gentle strokes and crescendos, mirrored the tumultuous symphony of emotions that played within you. as you talked, he would often reach out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, giving it a squeeze that spoke of his silent support.

this night was no different, except for the anticipation that filled the air. the whispers of a secret untold. you had felt it brewing for days, a heaviness in theo's eyes, a sadness that even his smile couldn't quite hide. you waited, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, for the moment when he would finally confide in you.

you blinked your eyes open, and there he was, leaning over you, his elbows resting on the mattress. the smile on his face was a gentle curve, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. the lamp's glow painted him in a warm light, making his dark hair seem almost golden. his eyes searched yours, looking for the understanding he so desperately needed.

"i've got something to tell you," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "it's big, and i'm not sure how you're going to take it."

you sat up, scooting towards the headboard, pulling your legs up to your chest. the anticipation grew like a storm cloud in your chest, thick and heavy. "okay," you murmured, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come.

theo took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'm leaving," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. the words hung in the air, thick and palpable. your heart skipped a beat, the blood rushing to your ears, drowning out the world outside of your little bubble.

you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you, his body warm and solid. "what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling. his hand found yours again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"i've got a scholarship to a school in the city," he explained, his voice gaining strength. "for music. it's a full ride, and it's a chance to get out of here, to make something of myself."

the words hit you like a wave, crashing over the sandcastle of your quiet life. theo, leaving? It was unthinkable. your eyes searched his, looking for a hint of a joke, a twitch of his lip that would give away the punchline. but all you saw was sincerity, and a hint of fear.

"theo, that's… that's amazing," you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions - joy for his opportunity, sadness for your impending loss, fear of the unknown. "when did you find out?"

he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "a few days ago. i've been trying to figure out how to tell you." his eyes searched yours, looking for the acceptance he so desperately needed. "i leave next week."

the news was a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. your mind raced with questions and objections, but all that came out was a soft "next week?" the urgency of the situation was stark, the reality of his departure so close you could almost taste it.

his grip on your hand tightened. "i know it's a lot to ask, but… i want you to come with me." he said, his voice filled with hope and desperation. "i can't do this without you. you're the only one who really gets me."

you felt your world tilt on its axis, the gravity of his words pulling at you. the idea of leaving your home, your father, your life behind was both terrifying and exhilarating. the thought of starting anew, of escaping the shadows of your past, was something you had never dared to dream.

you took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic symphony playing in your head. "theo," you began, your voice shaky, "i can't just leave. my dad…"

his expression fell, the hope in his eyes dimming. "i know," he said, his voice soft. "but you can't stay here forever. you're just as trapped as i am."

you felt the weight of his words, the truth of them pressing down on your shoulders. you knew he was right, but the thought of leaving was too much to bear. "i… i don't know if i can do that, theo," you whispered, the lump in your throat growing.

his eyes searched yours, desperation flickering in their depths. "please," he said, his voice cracking. "i don't want to leave you. i need you there with me."

you felt your chest tighten at the raw vulnerability in his voice, a feeling you hadn't heard from him in years. theo was the strong one, the one who held you together when your world fell apart. but now, he was asking for your help, for your company. it was a revelation that shook you to your core.

his hand was still in yours, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand. the warmth of his touch was grounding, a reminder that you weren't alone in this tumultuous sea of emotions. "theo," you whispered, "i don't know if i can."

his eyes searched yours, desperation etched into every line of his face. "please," he begged, the word coming out as a hoarse whisper. "i need you there." the raw emotion in his voice made your heart ache.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "theo," you began, your voice trembling, "i…"

but before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. it was soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that held a thousand unspoken words. it was a kiss that spoke of a love that had grown over the years, a bond stronger than friendship, a connection that had always been there but had remained unacknowledged.

you pulled back, your eyes wide with shock. "theo," you whispered, your hand still trembling in his.

his face was inches from yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "i know it's a lot," he said, his voice soft, "but i had to tell you. i love you. i've loved you for so long, and i can't just leave without saying it."

you sat there, frozen, his words echoing in your mind. theo, your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone, was confessing his love for you. the revelation was as surprising as it was overwhelming. your heart was racing, trying to keep up with the thoughts that bombarded your brain.

you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in their depths. they were filled with a vulnerability that was as stark as it was beautiful. theo had always been the one to wear a mask, to hide his pain behind a smile. but here, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, his defenses were down, and you could see the raw, unfiltered version of the boy you had grown up with.

his confession hung in the air, as potent as the scent of the lilac bushes outside. it was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, the silence a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around you both. you felt your heart pound in your chest, a symphony of emotions playing out in your mind.

slowly, you reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had formed since the last time you had seen him. your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty that you both needed. "theo," you whispered, "i love you too."

his face lit up like the first light of dawn, the sadness and fear fading away. "you do?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

you nodded, your heart pounding. "yes, i do."

his smile grew, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a blanket. "so, you'll come with me?" he asked, hope dancing in his eyes.

you took a moment to let the reality of his confession sink in. the thought of leaving your father was daunting, but the idea of being without theo was unbearable. "yes," you said finally, "i'll come with you."

his eyes lit up, and he leaned in again, this time the kiss was filled with a mix of relief and joy. it was a kiss that spoke of a future filled with promise and hope. "i'll make it worth it," he whispered against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. "i'll make sure you never regret this."

you felt a warmth spread through your chest, his words like a balm to your fears. "i know you will."

edited 8.20.24

[tinydefector]

MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

The Scientist 

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working. 

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar. 

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made . 

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him. 

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny. 

Cyclonus and Tailgate 

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking. 

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from. 

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him, 

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows. 

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache. 

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl. 

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there. 

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes. 

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it. 

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for. 

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look. 

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung. 

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

 

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton 

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod. 

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying. 

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture 

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic,  quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish. 

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things. 

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is. 

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads. 

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby. 

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap. 

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it. 

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names. 

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

 

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus 

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time. 

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is. 

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions. 

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together. 

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage. 

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas. 

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly. 

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about. 

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge. 

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️. 

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients. 

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship. 

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for. 

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him. 

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won. 

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd. 

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron. 

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there. 

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off. 

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him. 

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake. 

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once. 

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters. 

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy. 

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests. 

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves. 

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers. 

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames. 

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl. 

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology. 

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll. 

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus. 

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm. 

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus 

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted". 

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety. 

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings. 

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him. 

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up. 

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms. 

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot. 

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime. 

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand. 

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state. 

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid. 

[loomis-maxima]

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word count;; 14k+ pairing;; sebastian sallow x f!reader warnings;; depictions of injury, violence, and death. use of crucio. slight jealousy, angst, and a lil fluff and mutual pining to go along<3 slight lore changes regarding fiendfyre, and use of y/n. slightly dark wizard!sebastian but also saviour!sebastian 💖

*minor hogwarts legacy spoilers but nothing outright*

a/n;; this took longer than expected- i haven't written in so long so i hope you guys enjoy 💖 (i didn't expect it to be this long, and i feel like the end is a bit shit but i appreciate all of you guys sm for entertaining my fics)

Nestled in the Scottish Highlands, away from prying and mundane eyes, stood a behemoth of magic, history, legend and mystery. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle’s many stained glass windows glistened, the Black Lake sparkled under the stars, and the Forbidden Forest looked just as foreboding, yet at the same time, peaceful, under the last of that night’s moonlight.

The serenity of the landscape was suddenly disturbed, but not by destruction, instead by one of the most regal and proud creatures. A large, majestic Hippogriff broke through the light clouds that hung over the castle, and on the creature's back was a girl, nothing more than a Hogwarts student. “Let’s go Highwing, before anyone notices we’ve been gone all night,” said the girl on the creature's back as she took in the sights from the height they flew at one more time before returning to her usual student life. As Highwing soared in the sky, her huge wings beat against the wind causing an undeniable rhythm in the air. The large, majestic creature flew, a loud and proud call was let out from her chest as she took one last long soar before beginning her descent back to the ground.

                                            ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Back in the quiet of the castle, where students slept soundly, the only thoughts in their minds were the dreams that played out behind their closed eyes, there was one student who hadn’t slipped into the comfort and safety of his dream realm, a fifth-year Slytherin by the name of Sebastian Sallow. Instead of being nestled up cosy in his bed just like his fellow students, Sebastian sat perched on a long sofa in the Slytherin common room, eyes drifting between the doorways that were across from him, his books and the mix of half-used, blank pieces of parchment that sat on the table in front of him. “Where is she…?” he muttered to himself, slinking back into the cushions behind him. Usually, Sebastian wouldn’t keep himself so concerned with what someone else was doing, against the rules or not. But Sebastian found himself in this predicament more often than he would care to admit.

The new student, y/n, had a penchant for sneaking off unnoticed, with only the occasional comment from Imelda or Poppy drawing any attention. However, Sebastian on the other hand was more than aware of her disappearances. In fact, her absence never failed to register with him. Initially, he didn't dwell on it too much, respecting her need for privacy, just as he would want. Yet, an underlying sense of worry persisted within Sebastian, despite his rational understanding.

His eyes drifted around the large open room, taking in every inch of the usually bustling common room. Even the large windows at the end of the room that stood proud, looking out under the murky, Black Lake provided no signs of life, not a single thing except for the usual green hue coming from the windows, casting a haunting, yet beautiful atmosphere. It seemed for all the world, that everyone but Sebastian was asleep, everyone but Sebastian was without a worry. His eyes settled on the fire, the flames were a deep, vibrant orange, hinted with hues of yellow and red as they twisted and danced together. Sebastian found himself, once again, getting lost in their hypnotic sway. There had always been something so inciting to him about fire — the beauty of it, yet the destruction it was capable of always just twinkling beyond the captivating twists.

The sudden sound of a light step began to echo throughout the stagnant silence Sebastian found himself in, pulling his focus away from the dancing flames, choosing instead to watch the entrance to the common from the staircase, a drop of hope bubbled in his stomach as he sat up a little straighter and picked up his book, as if to seem like he was unable to sleep; instead of sitting, waiting for y/n to return. The footsteps were soft, almost imperceptible, like the gentle patter of raindrops on a windowpane. They echoed through the dimly lit room, creating a rhythm that seemed to reverberate through the very air. It was as if the very walls of the castle were whispering secrets, hinting at the arrival of someone who could provide answers to the questions that had been swirling in his mind.

"Sebastian?" a voice asked, barely a whisper, barely rising above the gentle lull of the crackling hearth. The soft patter of approaching footsteps punctured the quiet, drawing nearer to where Sebastian sat, engulfed in his thoughts.

"What are you doing up so late? I didn’t expect anyone to be up." y/n inquired, her voice laced with a hint of worry as she settled onto the sofa opposite him. The faint glow of the embers cast a warm light upon her face, revealing the fatigue etched into her features.

Sebastian lightly shook his head, placing his book atop the disarray of parchment. "Sleep eluded me, so I thought to come down here, see if I can make a dent in Sharp’s assignment" he replied, his tone carefully measured to hide the deceit. He hoped the flickering shadows would hide the concern that he felt was all too apparent in his eyes. "Let's not dwell on just my sleeping habits," he deftly redirected, his gaze intently studying her, "You're the one cutting it close, aren't you? Classes in a few hours, and here you are. I'd wager you not making it to our morning classes tomorrow." A strained chuckle escaped him as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, bridging the distance between them.

Her response was uncharacteristically delayed, and when it came, it didn’t come with its usual excitement. She drew in a breath, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames that seemed to ensnare her reflection in their fiery ballet. Her hands moved in a subtle, self-comforting gesture, leaving a hint of an inner turmoil that she hadn’t confided in him.

A flicker of movement drew his attention to a slender cut marring her face—a wound that was unveiled as she turned towards the fire, how he didn’t notice it the second she had joined him escaped him, it bothered him that he hadn’t seen it straight away, he almost felt guilty. His instinct urged him to reach out, to bridge the gap and address the injury that seemed to scream for attention. Yet he restrained himself, settling back into the shadows with a quiet resolve. "When she's ready, she'll confide in me," he told himself, the thought more a plea to convince himself rather than a conviction.

"I… I was out with Highwing," y/n finally murmured, her voice a soft echo in the room. "There was… something I had to tend to, a matter related to the trials. We encountered some poachers, a couple of goblins—nothing more." But her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, and Sebastian's intuition screamed in silent alarm deep within him.

The crackling fire no longer commanded her attention as she turned to gauge Sebastian's reaction, searching his face for signs of doubt. She hoped he'd let the matter slide, and as if sensing her silent plea, he simply nodded, acceptance flickering in his eyes. "You know, if there's anyone capable of giving poachers a run for their money, it's you, y/n," Sebastian remarked, the softness in his smile reaching his eyes.

Her response was a half-hearted echo of his grin, her eyes locking with his for a fleeting moment. "Thanks, Sebastian. It means a lot, you know? Having someone believe in me when everything here is still so relatively new," she murmured, the vulnerability in her voice brushing against the silent space between them.

Sebastian's chuckle broke through the heaviness, his smile widening, a shared moment of lightness taking the edge off his earlier worry. "Not believe in you? Come on, you had me outmatched from day one. Anyone who can do that is destined for greatness." His words teetered on the edge of sentimentality, and he quickly steered the conversation back with a playful challenge. "But, since I've been demoted to second-best, courtesy of you, you owe me an adventure. It's only fair, right?"

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but behind it lay his sincere desire to join her, not just for the thrill, but to ensure her safety—something he couldn't admit just yet.

The suggestion drew a soft, airy laugh from her as she rose to her feet, sidestepping the deeper implication of his words. "Next time, maybe, Sallow," she deflected with a lightness she didn't feel, sensing the undercurrents of concern that both of them were dancing around. "But for now, I'm off to bed. We've got Hecat first thing, and you better not be up all night either. Promise me you'll get some rest too?" "Promise," Sebastian nodded, the care in her voice buoying him a touch, though it couldn't fully brush off the thought of her concealed injuries. "Go on, then. Get some sleep, y/n. I'll meet you here in the morning before class."

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The next day had come all too soon, the cool morning breeze wisped around the castle grounds as the rising sun’s glow cascaded over every inch it could touch. A fragment of the golden glow broke through the dark water that sloshed against the large windows within the common room — causing the room to have more of a glow than usual.

Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, the freshly made bedding underneath trapped between her fingers as she pulled and twisted at the thick fabric subconsciously, deep in her thoughts; she felt almost glued to the bed, her eyes stuck focused on one point on the floor in front of her as her thoughts ran rampant within her.

The sleep that she had promised Sebastian hadn’t come as she had hoped, instead, she had spent the last of the night tossing and turning, arguing with her inner thoughts, overthinking every detail and thought that crossed her mind.

She would love nothing more than to have Sebastian come with her, to have Sebastian by her side every time she left the castle, but she knew that no matter what; great danger would always be waiting right around the corner for her — not a single situation so far had proven anything different. She wondered if she would be able to live with herself if anything happened to Sebastian, but what didn’t cross her mind — Would Sebastian be able to live with himself if something happened to her and he wasn’t there to help her? Or save her?

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the heavy dormitory door being pushed open and spoke a voice, causing her to jump from her sitting position and almost out of her skin. “Aren’t you coming y/n?” said the voice as a head peaked through the door, the head of Imelda Reyes. “You know Sallow is waiting for you down there, he seems to be under the impression you aren’t coming to class.” she continued, entering the room. “You know how Sebastian is… Not a man with a lot of patience, now is he.” y/n replied swiftly, hoping to avoid discussion as to why Sebastian thought as much, the last thing she needed was someone else asking questions.

Imelda waited for y/n as she grabbed her robes and wand she had left on her beside the locker before following Imelda out of the dormitory and down the winding hallway that led to the common room. The two girls walked in silence, the only sound being their steps across the metal flooring mixed with the light morning chatter of sleepy students coming from the common room some distance away. “What are you doing tonight?” Imelda asked suddenly, catching y/n off guard. “Tonight? Why?” y/n responded without turning to look at Imelda, her brain suddenly coming up with all types of scenarios, her anxiety slightly spiked as she waited for Imelda to spit out her reasoning.

“Well, you’re the only one who feels like a competition out on the pitch y/n, you’re getting better. You can almost keep up with me, so even though Quidditch is cancelled this year, maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me practice? I need someone who pushes me… Anyone else and it would be too easy… You’ll get some experience out of it too, and you might be ready for Quidditch tryouts next year.” Imelda quickly blurted out, completely unaware of how laced with ego her words were, but y/n knew it wasn’t intentional. Imelda wasn’t afraid to let people know she knew what her strengths were, and she never downplayed them for anyone, and that was something y/n admired in her.

“I really wish I could Imelda” y/n said softly as they cascaded down the steps and towards where Sebastian and Ominis sat talking between themselves. “I haven’t gotten around to Sharp’s assignment yet, and I haven’t gotten a chance for Hecat’s assignment yet either, I wish I could help you out, Imelda but I just don’t have the time tonight.” y/n finished, throwing Sebastian a pleading look once she realised he was watching them approach. “Well, what about this weekend? Any assignments we get today won't take the whole weekend to do” Imelda continued, stopping in her tracks once they reached the couches where the boys sat. Imelda perched herself on the arm of the couch, her eyes bore into y/n’s, almost as if she was trying to get into y/n’s mind to make her agree, but before she could even give Imelda an answer, Sebastian had realised the conversation y/n was trying to wiggle out of, knowing she couldn’t tell Imelda the truth.

“I mean, she would love to help you Imelda, but we’ve got plans this weekend, so unfortunately you might have to pick one of the other students, even if they don’t hold a candle to y/n’s skill” Sebastian said as he walked over to stand beside y/n,  a smile on his face which y/n returned with a soft smile, grateful for his swift thinking. Imelda opened her mouth quickly to argue with Sebastian, probably to say how practising for Quidditch next year is more important, but Ominis was the next person to protest against Imelda’s arguments; but not for the same reason as Sebastian—Ominis simply didn’t want to listen to their conversation.

“You know Imelda, maybe more people would want to practice with you if you didn’t speak down to them and act as if you were a gift from Merlin himself. You’ve no chance of changing their minds, you’ll learn, as well as I, that there’s no changing their minds once they’ve decided something, together.” The way Ominis spoke left a feeling of bubbling guilt between Sebastian and y/n as they exchanged looks. Was that really what Ominis thought? Y/n began to worry that her and Sebastian’s adventures so far were driving a wedge between Ominis and Sebastian, the last thing she would want would be to cause a rift between the two lifelong best friends, but a nudge to her arm pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to meet Sebastian’s gaze. He just shook his head lightly, indicating for her to not start overthinking Ominis’ words.

Imelda rolled her eyes at what Ominis had to say, but she didn’t have a retort for him; instead, she turned her attention back to y/n and Sebastian. “Well. Enjoy your adventures. Don’t come crying to me when you need someone to fly with y/n” The snark from Imelda was natural, something anyone who knew her was used to; even y/n already understood despite her short time at the school. “Oh, Imelda you know that’s not-” y/n began to speak, but Imelda was quick to shut her down, her willingness to talk back to y/n but not Ominis didn’t go unnoticed. “Save it, I don’t have time. Some of us have actual responsibilities. I’ll see you in class.” Imelda snapped as she turned to leave, her nose turning even more upwards than it had been in its natural position, leaving the three friends in silence.

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“She’s going to kill me the next time I turn down practising with her.” y/n said as she walked with the two boys towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, she knew she’d definitely get an earful from Hecat over not having the assignments, so being late wasn’t an option. “Surely the girl who beat me at Crossed Wands can put up a fight against Imelda unless she had something to hide about our duel..? Maybe, Felix Felicis?” Sebastian said, turning his head and giving her a look, a sly smile on his face. Anyone who didn’t know him would think this was a real accusation, that he was genuinely accusing her of cheating in their match—but his two closest friends knew it was just lighthearted banter.

“Oh please Sebastian, you know I didn’t know how to brew Felix Felicis back then, tell him Ominis, I won fair and square.” y/n said, looking between the two boys. “She’s not wrong Sebastian, she had only just gotten to Hogwarts, she probably didn't even know that potion existed. She won out of skill, like she said, fair and square” Ominis said tauntingly, getting a scoff from Sebastian. “Well, she’s had actual help and time with professors to learn! Oh, leave it..” Sebastian finally said defeatedly. He would have been annoyed at what Ominis was saying if it hadn’t been about y/n, hearing that he just wasn’t good enough to win did sting him a bit.

They left the warmth of the castle, the cool autumn breeze ran over the friends as they made their way through the grounds of Hogwarts. As they crossed the Viaduct courtyard, y/n noticed the decorations that seemingly appeared overnight. Cobwebs seemed to be hanging on arches, doorways and corners, pumpkins lay strewn about in a range of sizes. Even the smaller decorations and candles had seemingly been placed in such a fashion that it almost transformed the feeling of Hogwarts, even in the morning time.

“Well, those little house elves were hard at work last night,” Sebastian said looking around at their passing surroundings as they crossed over the Viaduct Bridge. “They’re always hard at work… They never get a break.” Ominis muttered, his voice low. The two other friends exchanged glances, knowing where Ominis’ sudden attitude change came from. For a Gaunt, Ominis’ views were unheard of.

The Gaunt’s were cruel.

They were descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, their heritage and lineage were of utmost importance to them. They had no time for Half-Bloods, and most definitely no respect for Muggle-Born witches and wizards. When it came to house elves, they were no different. They viewed the elves as nothing more than what their purpose served, and at that, there was no respect. Violence was common, physically and verbally, and that didn’t stop at house elves… Their obsession with blood purity, obsession with the Dark Arts,  their sadistic ‘hobbies’ Ominis hated everything about their beliefs and what they did, choosing to have his own set of beliefs instead. Any time Ominis spoke about his family, it was never positive. Y/n knew there was more to his story, but she didn’t want to press him about his family and the Dark Arts; knowing the subject would be sensitive.

Y/n hated hearing her friends sound anyway upset, she racked her brain for something to say, to maybe comfort him somehow. “I agree Ominis” she said, placing her hand lightly on his arm as they continued into the Astronomy Wing of Hogwarts. “..but Hogwarts is the best place for them. If they were left to their old masters, who knows what could happen to them.” her voice matched the soft, sensitive nature of the conversation. However, as soon as her hand reached his arm, Sebastian had become all too aware of it. A strange feeling started brewing inside of him as he watched and listened to them. Was he jealous? Was her hand on his arm more than a friendly touch? Sebastian’s mind filled with questions, questions fueled by his sudden jealousy. “I know, I know, but there’s not much comfort in knowing they are still being worked to death,” Ominis spoke glumly, y/n looked sympathetic towards his feelings, and Sebastian wanted to know why it bothered him so. “That’s all they know Ominis, at least they’re safe here..” y/n  said, her hand dropping from his arm, not knowing what else to say to ease Ominis’ pointed feelings on the topic. Sebastian felt calmed when her hands dropped to her sides, but now he had to face the fact he was jealous, and over such a small thing. They walked in silence up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, unsure of where to take the conversation after it hit such a sensitive tone.

“Hecat’s going to have my head you know.” y/n said trying to divert the conversation, and their moods. Sebastian and Ominis both let out a small laugh at her sudden statement. “You didn’t finish your assignment?” Ominis asked, almost as if he was disappointed in her. Y/n shook her head as they crossed the marble flooring and up the right staircases and corridors to reach Hecat’s classroom. “Well, someone was out all night causing trouble,” Sebastian said giving y/n a knowing look, a slight smirk played on his face. “Maybe she will let me hand it in late? If I tell her some of what I was doing? Surely she’d understand right” y/n asked, unsure of how Hecat would handle the situation.

Ominis just shrugged before he spoke, “I wouldn’t know. I like to get my assignments in on time.” y/n just smiled before rolling her eyes, “Gee, thanks Ominis. That is a great help” she said jokingly. Sebastian took the situation a little more seriously, since he knew more than Ominis about what she had been doing.*

“What are you going to tell her?” Sebastian asked, looking down at her. “What if you just tell her you were out gathering supplies or something, and you got into some trouble? She can’t disprove it, and it’s not really a lie, you’re just… withholding the full story. Plus, you still have that cut on your face still too so surely she’ll believe you..” Sebastian said in a hushed voice, genuinely trying to help her situation. A sigh left her as they approached the classroom, “I guess we’ll find out won’t we..” She said, opening the classroom door and entering, Sebastian and Ominis behind her.

As usual, they were the last few students to walk in besides a couple of stragglers that waltzed in after them. The class was lively, chatter coming from every direction as students spoke among themselves. Ominis walked and took his usual seat in the middle of the class, not bothering to speak to anyone, instead just preparing his belongings for class, the thought of his family heavy on his mind again. Sebastian perched himself on top of his desk at the back of the class, preparing for the incoming babble and nonsense as he watched Garreth Weasley approach him. y/n on the other hand made a direct beeline for the steps up to Professor Hecat’s study, repeating the excuse in her brain. She knocked on the door lightly and it was just a few seconds before the door opened and a voice spoke gently. “Come in, come in” said the older voice, y/n followed her instructions and walked into the little room above the classroom. “Professor Hecat, would you have a few moments?” y/n asked, her voice unwavering but she was still nervous nonetheless.

Hecat turned from the array of books she was sorting, directing her attention fully to y/n. “Of course, what is it Ms. y/l/n?” Hecat asked, raising an eyebrow slightly at the girl's words, stepping closer to her student. “I, I don’t have the assignment Professor” y/n said while looking at the ground, she looked up at her professor before continuing; “I intended to finish it last night but-” Hecat cut swiftly across her sentence; “but you thought you could come with excuses instead of the assigned work?” Hecat asked, her hands crossing over themselves in front of her. Hecat examined her student’s reaction to her words, suddenly noticing the mark on y/n’s cheek. “Merlin, what happened to you child? You’re hurt” Hecat said almost in a distressed voice, y/n simply just continued on her ramble in hopes Hecat would let her finish. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Professor. While I was out, we came across a poacher camp. I couldn’t leave without doing something, and I understand my studies are important..” y/n spoke fast, but Hecat listened to every word, just as y/n hoped; she prayed Hecat would understand the excuse she had, considering Hecat’s past of fighting poachers.

“But with all due respect Professor, I won’t let poachers or any other horrible person get away with their actions just so I can do an assignment” The words came from her before she even could think about them, it was kind of what she wanted to say; but it came across a lot more disrespectful than she expected, or so she thought.

Hecat’s face remained stoic as she took in her student's last few words, giving the impression that she was not happy. Suddenly a small smile cracked across her face as she looked at y/n. Hecat had not expected such a valid excuse in her mind, never mind expect such with passion, conviction and sincerity. Hecat merely nodded, her smile never once fading now. “I’ll give you until our next lesson, I see no reason to punish you for something I would have done as a student, someone’s got to do something about that lot,” Hecat said, her voice was light now, almost as if what y/n had said to her reminded her of herself.

“Thank you Professor” y/n said as she turned around to leave the study, unsure of what else to say; this wasn’t the outcome she had expected. She reached just outside the door, on the balcony looking down at the class, her eyes instantly looked at Sebastian. Her heart began to race slightly as she realised he was looking directly back at her, ignoring whatever nonsense Garreth was spewing at him. Hecat’s voice calling her pulled her attention back from Sebastian, turning around once more to face the Professor. “Oh and Miss y/l/n? Next time you decide to take on poachers, be prepared. Never go wrong with carrying some essence of dittany with you as well as your usual potions” She took Hecat’s words seriously, nodding once again at the older woman. “Of course Professor, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” 

Y/n made her way back down the short flight of steps and across the classroom as she ran through the thoughts of how lucky she had gotten with Hecat, how lucky she had gotten that Hecat saw some of the young student in herself. She took a seat beside Sebastian, letting out a sigh of relief as she sank back into her chair. “I see you’ve still got your head.” Sebastian laughed, turning to look at her. “She was… Okay with it. I told her about the poachers and that seemed to work in my favour.” y/n  said, the worry that was present in her voice before class was now gone, finally able to think of more important things than an assignment. The class passed by relatively slowly, but no student was surprised. Even in such an interesting class, theoretical studies were always dragging time along, seemingly never-ending. So once Hecat dismissed the class, students almost threw themselves out of the door to get to their next class in hopes that whatever was next was more lively.

Ominis left the class without a word to anyone, leaving Sebastian and y/n to throw each other worried glances. They knew better than to follow Ominis and hunt him for answers as to what was wrong, instead, they gathered their belongings and made their way from Hecat’s classroom, making their way back down to the Potions classroom.

“So, about our adventure,” Sebastian said, the two walking side by side across the hallways, they moved slightly every now and then when another student, or group, pushed their way past. “I was thinking we could go tonight, I don’t have much to get done and I’m sick of being in this castle.” Sebastian’s words were filled with hope, and something else that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I don’t know Sebastian I-”

“Oh come on y/n, I’m not some fragile little thing that’ll get hurt the second we leave, I can defend myself you know.” Sebastian’s voice didn’t have its usual joking tone to it, causing y/n to look up at him while they walked.

“I never said you were Sebastian, I know you can but-” He cut her off again. “So it’s decided then. Tonight, we’re going on an adventure.” Sebastian’s voice was light again as he spoke, basically telling her rather than asking now. “Fine Sebastian. But we’re doing it my way. There’s something I have to do, so promise me you won’t do something reckless?” her words were serious, and a tone of defeat was lingering in her voice. “I promise y/n, we’ll do it your way.”

She didn’t know if he was being honest or just telling her what she wanted to hear, but she had accepted it, knowing Sebastian would not let it go, not until he got to come along with her. ‘This is the last thing I need..’' she thought to herself, as she mulled over the fact that any task would only be made more difficult with Sebastian there, his tendency to charge in guns blazing all of the time left little space for plans to be executed with stealth and precision was something y/n knew could be an issue and could possibly jeopardize the task at hand.

They walked the rest of the way to Potions without talking anymore about the topic, instead just talking together like normal friends, no talk of dark magic, no talk of danger or poachers, no dark wizards' name even graced their lips… It was something she wished was more common, but between her life and her friends that she held close; having a ‘normal’ friendship was off the cards. Between her two best friends, one a Gaunt who defied his family’s expectations, and the other with a longing for dark magic and power, she knew that the current flow of normal conversation wouldn’t last long; the trio were anything but regular students of Hogwarts.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n all chose the same workstation, each friend on each side of the large table between them, a collection of cauldrons, ingredients and vials laid strewn about on every table; chatter was lively in the class as the students worked on their potions. Professor Sharp walked around the room, his injured leg causing his steps to falter occasionally as he made his rounds, not affected in the slighest. He inspected everyone’s potions, some gaining compliments; others causing him to say nothing more than a grunt before moving to the next. Ominis avoided joining much of the conversation as y/n and Sebastian discussed their plan for that night, y/n on the other hand didn’t delve too into detail about what she had to do, not wanting to speak about it in such a busy environment.

The potions class seemed to fly by relatively fast, some students received praise for their attempts at the potions; other students would have been lucky to be ignored by Sharp. One of those unlucky few students being Garreth Weasley. The trio looked up as they heard Sharp clear his voice as he approached Garreth, who was standing by his cauldron. The potion Garreth had brewed seemed to stench up the class the longer it brewed, the mixture seemed to expand in the cauldron before it swelled up; a large bubble formed on the top; shaping into a hand that seemed to reach for saving from the dreadful potion — the desperate potion’s stretched hand deflated with an amusing “poof”, the sound it made seemed like the last painful exhale from something that had been holding onto the last few seconds of it’s life before letting out that last, pathetic sound.

Garreth’s failure earned him a deep frown from Sharp. “Mr. Weasley, I cannot keep repeating myself. Please follow the instructions that are provided to you and refrain from your own… concoctions. You may yet still have time to pass this class and prove you’re not a failure. Please keep your own ‘potions’ for when you have mastered the simplest, yes?” Sharp said as he looked down at the ginger boy who was fighting off a frown of his own from falling upon his freckled cheeks.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n couldn’t help but chuckle amongst themselves once they heard Professor Sharp’s words and watched Garreth’s attempt at the potion dissolve the shape it had taken and recoiled back into the large cauldron. 

Professor Sharp had taken notice of the three best friends joking amongst themselves as he made his way towards their shared table, not failing to compliment Amit’s potion to a high extent as he passed by the table Amit shared with Garreth and Poppy— Amit always had a way of succeeding, even if it wasn’t a strength of his. He held himself to a high standard within his classes, so it was no surprise that this class was no exception.

The three friends subdued their light laughs and mutterings towards each other the closer that Sharp got, turning their attention back to the potions that had sat in front of them. Sharp didn’t speak a word as he made his way around the table, glancing at each of their brewings intently. They stood and almost held their breath — hoping that their potions, at minimum, were passable. A thoughtful ‘hmm’ left Professor Sharp as he stood up a little straighter after studying their potions. “For three who seemed most interested in watching others, you haven’t disappointed me completely” Sharp said in his usual indifferent tone, his eyes flittering between Ominis, Sebastian and y/n. “Next time, please pay attention to your own cauldrons and not other students,” Sharp said bluntly, causing y/n and Sebastian to look at each other. Professor Sharp turned his attention to Ominis fully now; “Well done Mr. Gaunt, I assume you’ve been practising? This potion is well brewed — Ten points to Slytherin.” Sharp said before he turned and made his way back to his desk. Sebastian and y/n turned to Ominis, a smile on each of their faces. Ominis hadn’t been the best at potions — but he was determined to overcome the struggle that came along with the class due to the pressure he applied to himself. A satisfied smile came across Ominis’ face upon hearing Sharp's words. A sense of contentment washed over Ominis as one of two friends spoke; “Nice work Ominis, I guess we should probably practice too” y/n said with a chuckle, genuinely happy that her friend managed to overcome a hurdle that he too often struggled with.

Luck had been on their side as the three had received compliments on their potions, clearly showing they had some skill when it came to the careful craft, but Professor Sharp didn’t hesitate to let them know they still were not up to his high-held standards, that they still had some growing to do within the area.

Once the class had tidied away their potions and cauldrons, returning ingredients and books to their rightful place, the rest of the day passed with surprising ease. Most of the classes seemed to pass swiftly, and the friends were not about to complain about that — all complaints had been reserved for their History of Magic class. The class dragged on as Professor Binns’ dull, monotone voice filled the room. The odd student took notes, and paid attention to the dry words that left the ghost professor's mouth, the rest of the students feigned interest. Some students watched Binns float as he lectured on, staring through the transparent man, and some passed notes (taking full advantage of the professor’s obliviousness). Sebastian sat with his head resting on his hand; his eyes fighting to stay open. Ominis sat in silence, his gaze turned towards the window as he let Binns’ lecture float by his ears — his mind elsewhere. Y/n’s energy to the class was not much different, her body language showed she was listening intently to Binns’ words, but rather her mind was somewhere else — somewhere far away.

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As nightfall came, the usual hustle and bustle of the castle quietened down, most students now working on assignments, while others wandered about the castle or loitered around talking to friends. The only chaotic noises to break the relaxed environment and subdued chatter came when some of the ghosts of Hogwarts flew past, Peeves was tormenting a couple of first years,  and the usual screams and shouts of Eddie Cleaver rang through the halls as he wisped past.

Outside of the castle, the Halloween decorations came even more to life, the candles cast their golden, warm hue upon parts of dark passageways, corners of the courtyards, casting an a beautiful but ominous glow over the decorated areas — the aura hanging on each of the old stones of the castle radiated halloween charm.

Where festive scenes were lacking, there was one student, beyond the walls of the castle, beyond the care of Halloween decorations. Flying above the Forbidden Forest was a large creature with a small figure on its back. The autumn breeze blew past y/n as she perched on Highwing, she took in every sight below her, taking advantage of her high vantage point. She knew this task wasn’t going to be easy, she knew this was where danger truly lay. Highwing and the girl made their way lower to the ground before Highwing began to gracefully saunter through the forest, the creature knew of every twist and turn within the treacherous forest. Y/n’s senses were on high alert as all sorts of noises happened around her, but she and the Hippogriff continued on, not willing to be shaken or have her focus thrown off.

Back in the safety of Hogwarts, Sebastian stood outside of the Slytherin common room, frustration bubbling in him. Y/n had been an hour late meeting him and it bothered him deeply. He marched briskly up the steps leading to the main part of the castle, praying in his mind that she would be around the corner — though his silent pleas had not been answered. Instead when he rounded the corner, to his surprise, he saw Ominis sitting on one of the seats near the entrance to the library, his wand in hand and a rather thick book in the other.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” his voice was confused as his attention to the book he held dropped. “I thought you were going on your adventure?” Ominis’ voice was heavy, his tone dropping at the last word. “I was but, Y/n. She was meant to meet me outside the common room an hour ago. I’ve been looking all over for her.” Sebastian sighed, approaching his friend. “What?” Ominis asked bluntly, suddenly a tone shifted in his voice to slight concern. “Sebastian, she left already. I passed her before she as she was on her way, she said you were meeting near the forest.” Ominis finished his sentence, the genuine concern now present in his voice. “She said what?! She intentionally left without me? And lied? Why-” Sebastian was now full of emotions, a mix of worry, concern and a tinge of anger that she would lie to him, that she would leave him behind; Sebastian’s thoughts and emotions were then flickering all over the place.

“You don’t think, do you, Sebastian? She doesn’t want to drag you into trouble, or danger.” Ominis said knowingly, and he was right, she didn’t want to but Sebastian in any dangerous, or stupid, situation — but this logic didn’t sit with Sebastian in the slightest. “So it’s okay for her to run towards danger alone but not with me?” Sebastian’s voice showed all of his emotions at once, causing Ominis’ eyebrows to rise and a sigh to leave him before he spoke.

“She just doesn’t want you getting hurt Sebastian.”

“And I don’t want her getting hurt, but she doesn’t care about what I want, so why should I care about her wanting to go it alone?” Sebastian had a good point that even Ominis couldn’t argue against, and Ominis didn’t argue his friends point; instead what he spoke next was the quite opposite.

“Then go after her Sebastian, she was heading to the forest. She seemed flustered when we met, she was quite anxious…” Those were all the words Sebastian needed for his mind to decide his next course of action. “I’ll talk to you later Ominis,” Sebastian said as he turned on his heel and began to jog briskly from his friend before he began to run towards the large doors that were at the end of the large hall, every fibre of his being told him something was wrong.

                                        ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n was quiet and careful with every step she took. Her wand was held tightly in her hand, ready for anything. She took note of the surroundings, seeing what she could use to her advantage. Just on the edge of where the poachers set up camp, was a clearing, giving a view of the night’s starry sky over the hill’s ledge. She thought about being able to cast the poachers off the steep edge that looked over the forest, she took note of where the forestry ended, the last thing she would want is to end up burning down an entire magical forest. To her advantage, the trees stopped just before the encampment, allowing for the use of fire spells; a favourite of y/n’s.

She watched from behind the bushes as poachers spoke to each other about plans, not knowing of the student who lurked not far from their camp. She stepped quietly across an opening in the trees, Highwing not far from her. Highwing’s safety was a major concern to her, even in such a tense moment. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to the creature.

“What will we do with the egg?” said a poacher, y/n’s head snapped around the tree to get a better view. “Cage it, don’t know if it’ll hatch. Keep it safe. That’s a lot of money.” said another poacher with a laugh, y/n’s stomach twisted at the sound of capturing and selling any creature or egg. “How d’ya reckon they managed to capture that beast ‘nyway? Nowt’ easy ‘bout a Horntail, ‘n’ bet a few of ‘em ended up crispy” said a poacher who sat by the fire that burned in the middle of the camp. There were a few tents set up around the area, all around the fire. Cages were all over the ground, some empty, and a couple contained little Nifflers that looked terrified, Y/N’s heart cracked as she saw the full scene, but her mind was now in overdrive.

A Horntail? Captured? How? This added a whole new layer to everything going on, added something else that she felt that she needed to take care of. The thoughts of her initial reasoning for being out that night swarmed her mind, now with the added stress of releasing the Nifflers and a dragon egg. Her mind spun with solutions to the situation that seemingly got more dire the longer it dragged on.

She couldn’t stand there anymore, looking at the creatures and listening to the horrible conversations between the poachers.

As poachers continued to talk about the dragon amongst themselves, y/n  made her way closer to the camp, taking a mental note of where every poacher was located. She glanced back at Highwing who stood proudly in the shadows, the Hippogriff took another step forward. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, afraid Highwing would catch the attention of the poachers. ‘I should have never brought her’ y/n thought to herself, swearing at her own stupidity and recklessness, thinking now she may have put Highwing in danger too — that Highwing would draw attention. Thankfully, as if Highwing would read her mind, the creature didn’t make a sound, and y/n pressed on, relieved.

She noticed a lone poacher close to her, his back turned to the student. She closed the gap between them while raising her wand, a whisper then left her lips, only loud enough for the incantation to work; “petrificus totalus”

The lone poacher seized up as if frozen before his body dropped to the ground. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief once he was down, ready to approach the rest of the camp. She took note of the three poachers that were left, thinking to herself; “only three, okay..” She had dealt with more than three poachers in the past, so this didn’t cause her any concern. Instead of taking a tactful approach, she took advantage of how little poachers were at the camp.

She leapt from the shadows pointing her wand directly at the poacher that sat by the fire. “Depulso!” she shouted, a blast of light came from her wand, directly hitting the poacher and sending him flying into the high burning fire that once provided a source of warmth for the poachers — and now it was being used for their demise. His screams filled the air, even as his body was engulfed in the flames, his screams were still audible but now mixing with the sound of the fire crackling in an attempt to break down the foreign mass of skin and bone that had been forced into its core.

The remaining two poachers were suddenly caught off guard as turned to see her standing there, her Hogwarts robes billowing in the breeze that drifted by — but the robes were  a dead giveaway as to who she was, a situation she had not predicted happening. “You!!” shouted a poacher, his wand quickly got drawn as he got prepared to fight. “Confringo!” came from the poacher, a burst of fire headed straight for y/n, she quickly rolled out of the way, barely missing the intense attack that had been directed at her.

Her heart began to beat faster, and she realised she made a mistake wearing her robes; now giving everyone a sign that she was the student causing trouble for them, the student that Rookwood was pursuing rather intently. She ran across the camp, firing at both poachers but neither seemed to b giving up or dropping anytime soon. Neither she nor the poachers gave up their relentless casts, and the situation only seemed more dire when a couple of more figures started approaching. Y/n noticed this and she panicked, causing her to almost get hit with a powerful cast of Reducto that someone just fired at her.

“Highwing!” she yelled, not seising her casts or wand movements once, “Get out of here! GO!” she screamed at the Hippogriff to leave her behind, knowing if more poachers came that they wouldn’t hesitate to try take the creature — or worse. Highwing hesitated, watching the student who cared for her so much fight off the oncoming attack from multiple directions. “NOW HIGHWING!” y/n screamed, her voice breaking as she deflected a jinx hurling towards her. Highwing didn’t take another second before sprinting out of the forest, understanding the urgency of the situation. The Hippogriff’s heart was now beating fast as she ran back through the forest and towards the school — hoping to catch someone’s attention, anyones attention that could help.

Y/n kept fighting and dodging curses, not stopping for a second. She knew if she didn’t put her everything into this, she wouldn’t be coming out of this fight, not alive anyway.

“Reducto!” she got a hit on a poacher that was moving closer to her, the man suddenly burst into nothing but ash that lingered in the air before settling on the ground, every atom of the poacher was simply reduced to nothing but specks of grey that settled on the ground where he once stood.

Despite her success so far, it had seemed to her as if every time one poacher went down, another appeared in the last’s stead. Frustration began building in her as she did everything she could to try to keep her mind focused on the fight, but as soon as she found it, the focus was snatched away with blunt force. Y/n’s full attention was pulled from the fight by a swirling stream of purple smoke that twisted its way to the ground, as the smoke dissapated, y/n got a clear view of who had just joined the fight, and the stakes were raised tenfold when she realised who had just joined the fight. “You’re the little bitch Rookwood wants!” shouted a scratchy female voice, the insult cutting through the air like a knife.

Ashwinders…

Y/n cast a quick protego shield as the poachers kept their attack going, she knew she had to get out of this and fast. Her mind ran through spells, jinxes, curses anything that would give her a leg up on the competition now but it seemed almost impossible, her knowledge finally halted her, leaving her with little choice. She kept letting off fire spells one after another, the bombardment somewhat helped the odds of the fight be in her favour for a moment — just a moment. A familiar swirling sound was light upon y/n’s ears. She forced herself to pay no heed to the sound, until a second purple tornado-like smoke appeared before spreading. Once the violet smoke disappeared, in it’s wake stood another Ashwinder, this one seemingly larger than the first.

“Petrificus totalus!” shouted the new Ashwinder, this time a male voice came from the Duelist. He landed a perfect hit on her without much effort, causing her entire body to freeze up. She had lost complete control of her body as her wand fell from her hand and landed by her feet. She was completely defenceless. She screamed obscenities in her mind, unable to open her mouth even the slightest bit. She was done for. Her body didn’t even have a chance to fall and hit the ground before another spell was cast at her now statue-like body. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

She was at the complete mercy of the Ashwinders and the last remaining poachers, the poachers were clearly exhausted from the fight, retreating away from the duelist who now walked closer to the camp. The Ashwinder that cast the Levitation charm pulled y/n closer to them as they closed the distance, leaving her suspended in the air, frozen, unable to defend herself. “Do you realise how much of a nuisance you’ve been? How many problems you’ve caused for us?!” screamed the male of the duellists, his voice was full of venom and hatred, and at that moment y/n truly feared for her life.

“Well no more! No more stupid little brats thinking they can stop us!” the Ashwinder controlling her lowered Y/n so he could stare directly into her eyes as he spoke with his cruel voice. Y/n had no option but to listen, to hang onto every word spat at her.

The looming female Ashwinder began walking towards her accomplice and the frozen student. Once again the scratchy, female voice spoke while stepping up to the suspended girl; “…and when your little friends hear about how we tortured you, how you begged for your life before we ripped you to shreds, they’ll learn not to interfere. They’ll learn their place. Like Rookwood says, ‘Children should be seen and not heard’” the female Ashwinder continued in her vicious, venom-laced voice. The Ashwinders were wholly and completely unaware of the tiny bit of information she had just given y/n, and she knew exactly what she was going to do with it if she got out alive… Even in that moment, she forgot about the threat to her life; only thinking about what the female Ashwinder had just said, information that could help Sebastian and his sister. 'Children should be seen and not heard'

A poacher suddenly appeared, pulling an empty cage with him. The cage wasn’t much bigger than what a couple of Niffleres were in, but that wasn’t something that either the Ashwinders or poachers cared for. “Someone get a word to Rookwood! Tell him we got the little bitch.” said the female Ashwinder as she glanced at the cage, ideas running rampant through her head. “..until then, we’ll have some fun, wont we girl?.” Y/n was suddenly dropped to the ground, but her still frozen body was then shoved into the cage, the girl left completely defenceless, completely overrun with terror.

The remaining poachers and the Ashwinders watched as y/n lay motionless in the cage, finding no amusement in the idea of caging her anymore, not when she couldn’t express her fear, not when she was quiet. Y/n saw the female duellist raise her wand once more, suddenly casting at y/n with something she couldn’t defend herself against; even if she had her wand.

“Crucio!”

There was a split second before the curse hit her that allowed her mind to register the curse and the bright green sparks that emanated from the tip of the Ashwinder’s wand.

The pain was unbearable, y/n’s body was no longer frozen; the Unforgivable Curse that was cast on her overpowered the weak-by-comparison charm. A searing pain washed over her entire body, feeling as if every inch of her skin was set on fire; it felt like a million cuts all over her body that were being cleaned with pure alcohol. The pain caused her to writhe in the cage, her body tensing and dropping, and tensing again. The only sound that came from her was sounds of pain, screams that pierced the night air rang out through the forest, the pain didn’t feel like it was ever going to stop and when it did, the relief didn’t last long before the curse was cast on her again, this time even more painful. Her screams reached a pitch she didn’t think possible, the screams were so bloodcurdling that they set her own hair on edge, anyone nearby surely would think there was a banshee wandering about.

She wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but the more she tried to make words come out, the more intense the pain soaring over her body got and the more she in turn screamed.

Some distance away, Sebastian walked towards the Forbidden Forest, his ears caught a scream, a scream that sent a shiver down his spine, and his blood ran cold when it broke through the air. “Y/N!” he said to himself, panic rushed over him as his feet began moving faster, Sebastian was now sprinting towards the sounds. He was so focused on following the directions of the screams and watching the ground for obstacles he had to divert around, that he didn’t notice the white creature heading toward him until it was too late.

His body fully collided with Highwings strong body, knocking him backwards. Highwing took notice of Sebastian and reared on her back legs, trying her best to signal him distress. He didn’t even think about standing back up, panic flooded his voice; “Highwing?!” he knew if Highwing was alone, those screams definitely came from y/n. Highwing was stressed, cries came from the creature, almost begging him to understand her as he stood back up to his feet, ensuring his wand was with him. “I know, I know Highwing! It’s okay, I’ll find her okay? I promise I’ll find her” he didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or the Hippogriff that was in front of him. He stroked Highwing’s chest signalling for her to calm down, the intensity of the situation and his determination to save her made Highwing and Sebastian forget they hadn’t ever met properly, the Hippogriff uncharacteristically trusted him straight away.

“I need to go, I have to find her” Sebastian said hurriedly as he stepped away from her, continuing on his path to find y/n. Highwing let out a neigh before following him, she then overtook him as if to lead him to the poacher’s camp. He knew Highwing shouldn’t be near the poachers, but he wasn’t about to try to tell a Hippogriff what to do, especially not at such a critical time. Instead, he followed her heavy footsteps through the forest, winding around corners and trails after the Hippogriff.

Screams rang close by to where the boy and the creature, stopping them dead in their tracks, y/n was close by — quite close. “Please Highwing, stay here. Stay safe. I’ve got this.” Sebastian said in a nervous but confident voice. Highwing’s head bowed, acknowledging his wishes which took him by surprise.

The distinctive sound of screams disappeared, but only for a moment. The harsh Ashwinder’s voice was audible from where they stood. “CRUCIO!!” this time it was screamed with pure hatred. Sebastian instantly snapped his head in the direction of the camp, now knowing where exactly to go — his hastened steps taking him to the location of the screams.

Y/n wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but nothing but harrowing screams could leave her mouth, tears streamed down her face and she finally felt defeated; finally met her match. In that moment she wished for it to be over, wished for the pain to end at any cost, but it never did. The excruciating pain only ever stopped for a single moment until another round of the torture curse was thrust upon her. Y/n felt her mind drift from her, she was unable to think of anything anymore, unable to focus on anything but the pain; not even thoughts of Sebastian could break their way through the brutalising pain that the Ashwinders cast on her.

From out of the blue, an explosion erupted from the camp, debris from a tent flew in every direction. The remaining poachers and the male Ashwinder were the first ones to act in retaliation, turning their full attention to the cause of the explosion. The female Ashwinder on the other hand, kept her focus on y/n, clearly enjoying inflicting pain on the student — revelling in her screams and cries rather than the idea of joining in on the combat just yet.

Sebastian walked into the camp as debris fell around them, the fire that had caught on the tent fabric now burned intensely around them, but it didn’t bother Sebastian in the slightest. He didn’t so much as flinch as he stepped through stray flames on the ground, the fiery atmosphere seemed as if it motivated him even more. He was enraged. He set his sights on one of the poachers who was preparing an attack, but Sebastian was quicker. “Diffindo!” Sebastian’s cast caught the raggedy-looking poacher, the spell’s power sliced through the man as if it were a knife and he was just a sheet of paper, the poacher fell to a lifeless pile on the ground; his fatal injuries directly across his stomach that split him into two caused blood to run and stain the ground around him.

The female Ashwinder that had been intently torturing y/n looked up from the writhing and contorting girl in the cage, the anger radiating from the duelist was imminent, but Sebastian’s anger was more. “Oh look. One of your little friends has come to see the show,” spoke the raspy-voiced woman. Y/n’s eyes drifted towards the camp’s entrance, catching sight of Sebastian firing off at the surrounding poachers, making quick work of them. The Ashwinder considered her next course of action for a split second, toying with her options of joining in the fight or torturing the girl.

Just as the poachers dropped, two more swirls of purple smoke slammed into the ground, and Sebastian’s eyes snapped around the camp. He was determined to not let them get the better of them.  Once the female poacher realised there were more Ashwinders for reinforcement, she knew what she would do next, try and fluster the student who had just so brazenly walked into the camp, thinking he was a match for them. The ego of the student was something that the Ashwinders hated, that a student thought he would be a threat to them.

But that was the Ashwinder’s undoing.

Underestimating Sebastian Sallow and hurting the ones he cared for was one way to write your death, one way to bring your death upon you in whatever way he saw fit. He could be unforgiving, he could be just as cruel as them, if not more.

“Crucio!”

Another wave was sent over y/n, just as painful as the last. Her screams didn’t care for her wanting to hold them back, so she didn’t distract Sebastian, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even fight the pain, even when he was right in front of her. “Sebastian!” she screamed his name,she was surprised for just a moment that his name rang out through the air, yet she was unable to get anything else out as she continued to convulse in the cage, causing her to hit off of the small prison she had been put in. Sebastian’s attention was instantly drawn to where the scream came from. What he saw sent him into a rage, his mind no longer considering a rational approach. His focus was tied to the female Ashwinder, and y/n could almost swear she saw someone other than Sebastian through her tears. Someone to fear. Someone who didn’t care about the repercussions of the actions he would take. Sebastian raised his wand, his intentions so clearly stated in his mind that he didn’t even have to speak a word as he cast at the Ashwinder.

In a turn of events, karma came in the form of Sebastian, the Ashwinder that had been getting so much satisfaction from torturing y/n had folded to the ground, now letting out her screams of pain as she twisted and writhed around on the stone ground beneath her. Even in her own pain, even without him saying the incantation; y/n could tell that Sebastian cast crucio on the duelist. The power required to do such a thing, she knew right now Sebastian had one intent on his mind — but it didn’t bother her, for all of that moment when the crippling pain dissipated she had felt something she had not in some time — relief. Relief from no longer being tortured, and the relief that came with Sebastian’s arrival to the horrific situation she had gotten herself into.

He turned his attention to the now-gathering Ashwinders that cast all types at him from the edge of the cliff. Sebastian dodged and deflected the mixed hues of green and red that flew at him, a sudden power in him unlocking in the heat of the battle. Sebastian held his wand aloft, his eyes glinted with the power that was building within him. Y/n watched as Sebastian moved his wand so elegantly through the air, she was unable to make out what incantation he said, but within a moment she all but knew, and worry came over her in the form of a tsunami.

From the very tip of his wand came fire, but not bursts as he had been casting previously. Instead, it streamed from his wand, his eyes followed the growing stream as it formed shape above and around him.

From her confined space, y/n could feel the intensity that cracked through the air, as harsh as a leather whip that came from hell itself. As Sebastian’s concentration deepened, the once fiery twists that streamed from his wand began to writhe and twist with the movements of his wand, it’s chaos seemed to find order under his control, but how? The flames had a life of their own, as if with each breath Sebastian took, so did the flames; each breath bringing it more to life than the last.

“Sebastian, no!” y/n yelled, hoping that she could stop him from casting such a devastating spell, but it was too late.

The Fiendfyre’s colour was a deep, malignant crimson that seemed to bleed its ominous glow on everything around, casting everything in a hellish glow. The Ashwinders, who once underestimated him were momentarily halted by the spectacle, caused by a student no less. They watched in horror, and fascination, as the flames above Sebastian’s head began to form shape. The fire had begun to grow and take form as the shape of a head formed, followed by a long sinuous body and a flickering tongue. The Fiendfyre serpent, a terrifying sight to see, hung in the air as its body looped and coiled, as if ready to attack at any moment.

Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. Fiendfyre was known for its destructive properties, synonymous with ruin and its desire to consume everything in its path; including the caster, but as she watched, rather than their surroundings burning to the ground around them, the two students included, it seemed to be controlled by Sebastian with eerie precision. Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight that came to life in front of her. Y/n, (and Ominis), knew that Sebastian felt a certain way about the dark arts and dark magic, she knew it was something he desired to learn about, to know how it worked, even how to weild it; but she didn’t know his interest would go to this extent. Oh no, this was far beyond her comprehension.

What would Ominis think if he witnessed something so unbelievable? Something so… Incredible. Something told her that Ominis wouldn’t find it the same awe–inspiring spectacle that she did, that he wouldn’t ever be open to the beauty in anything dangerous or related to the Dark Arts.

It was a clear demonstration of Sebastian’s hidden depths, the years of study and practice, and an undeniable connection to the Dark Arts he had that y/n had never fully appreciated, but was also a show of his determination, and dedication to the craft, but also of the lengths he would go to for those he cared about, the lengths he would go to for power… Sebastian had achieved something so unheard of, something that was considered even impossible; not just casting Fiendfyre, but bending it to his will, controlling the flaming serpent that paid homage to Salazar Slytherin; someone Sebastian revered for his affinity with the Dark Arts.

Her astonishment was complete as she watched Sebastian take control of the flaming serpent. In all the tales she had heard, Fiendfyre was a wild, uncontainable force of destruction, yet here it was, a testament to Sebastian's formidable power and dark affinity.

The spectacle before her was both stunning and terrifying.

As the Fiendfyre serpent hovered, a guardian beast conjured from flame and wrath, it was clear that the battle had shifted. With the serpent of fire at his command, Sebastian was not just a defender; he was a storm that couldn’t be controlled, reshaping the terror of the night into something he could be proud of. The serpent of fire seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its eyes glowing embers that locked onto the Ashwinders with a predator's gaze. The heat that emanated from it was oppressive, the air shimmering in waves that made the scene before her look like a mirage. Yet, this was no illusion; it was a vivid, terrifying reality.

Sebastian moved his wand with a fluidity that belied the danger of the spell he commanded. The serpent of Fiendfyre responded, its movements synchronised with his intentions. With a flick of his wrist, Sebastian directed the serpent, its body slithering through the air, weaving around the spells cast by the Ashwinders, creating a protective barrier of fire and fury around him. Not a single spell or jinx cast by the Ashwinders penetrated the serpent, the flames seemingly protected Sebastian, and and its focus was directly locked onto the Ashwinders.

As the Fiendfyre serpent surged forward, its fiery form twisted and contorted with sinister grace. With a menacing hiss, it lowered its head, the flames writhing and flickering like a serpent preparing to strike as the air around shimmered with its heat. Sebastian's control over the dark magic was palpable as he guided the serpent with precise movements of his wand. 

With each command, the serpent responded, its burning eyes fixed on its targets with predatory intent; Sebastian’s eyes matched the serpents. What once seemed like just a reflection of the flames in his eyes was now something more; his eyes glowed with the same bright, fiery, scarlet flames as if his irises were consumed by the flames he produced.

Whisps of fire cracked from the serpent, as if threatening to drop its destructive touch on everything that surrounded them, to ultimately consume everything — but it did not give into it’s dangerous threats. It continued to follow the commands made by the male student, almost as if the Fiendfyre and Sebastian had a deeper connection — as if the troubled student and the chaos he controlled had an understanding of each other.

The fire serpent grew larger, as if standing tall and proud — a predator staring down its helpless prey. The foes that remained infront of Sebastian only had a moment to examine the power being shown right in front of them — they had lost their chance to flee once and for all. Y/n could only make out small moments from the now one-sided battle, her focus was intently tied to Sebastian and the Fiendfyre as her fear slowly melted away, as if the terrifying sight was the answer to all of the issues — no longer viewing the Fiendfyre as their demise.

In the blink of an eye, the serpents mouth opened; it’s jaws parted as it’s blazing fangs were on full display as it suddenly lunged forward with the command of Sebastian’s wand movements — with a simple flick of his wrist, the monstrosity darted through the air with the speed of light. How Sebastian controlled the fiery demon with such grace, such elegance, was something that those witnessing the events unfold could believe — especially not since he did it while anger raged inside of him, if not stronger than what he wielded. The scorching snake dashed across the camp that separated the Ashwinders from their imminent death. All y/n could make out was the blur of crimson and amber, along with its radiating and blazing heat that emminated from the fire beast as it darted past towards it’s prey, its mouth still agape, still baring its fierce fangs. The Fiendfyre was unrelenting once it reached its casters target, its widened mouth slamming shut around one of the Ashwinders with such force, that y/n could have sworn shockwaves were sent through the ground.

Sebastian continued to focus on the frenzy of fire that he commanded, each movement he made was graceful and intentful — like a dancer whoms body married the notes their body intertwined with — the attacks from him and the creature he controlled were just like master and puppet. Deliberate. Intentful. It didn’t take long for Sebastian and the Fiendfyre to make short work of the enemies who had underestimated him — their bodies no longer stood before him, the Fiendfyre had ultimately consumed their bodies — every atom of their beings had been ripped from existence. The serpent that had one stood strong, proud and dangerous retreated back from where it attacked the helpless duelists, and y/n couldn’t help but feel as if Sebastian’s control of the Fiendfyre might just fail as the battle ended. She expected the blazing form to disobey it’s caster, she expected it to lose it’s controlled form and spill its hot, lava-like fire until it consumed everything. To her shock, the Fiendfyre continued to obey Sebastian even though it wanted to break free, wanted to burn everything it possibly could.

The snake slithered back for one more proud stance in the air before its swelled size began to deflate — the fiery snake wove its way around Sebastian once more, as it twisted it soaked in the last few moments of fresh air it would get until he cast it again. It lost its solid shape, as it returned into the tip of Sebastian’s wand it melted back into it’s original form before disappearing completely. Once the conjured beast was completely gone, a spark came from the end of Sebastians wand. He barely acknowledged the spark that sigalled him that the cast was complete before he ran over to the cage that y/n had been stuffed into.

Sebastian noticed the lock on the cage hadn’t been locked — it reminded him of hearing the cruciatus curse, hearing her scream. Even though he had handed out karma, it didn’t make him feel any better. The unlocked cage just showed what the Ashwinders had intended; they didn’t lock it simply because they didn’t have to, because she would be able to leave even if she wanted to. He pushed the thoughts aside quickly before ripping the cage door open with such intensity y/n was surprised that it didn’t break away. Sebastian threw his wand aside as he turned his attention to getting her out of her confinments. His hands grabbed her legs which were closest to him and began to pull her from the cage as gently as he possibly could. Y/n couldn’t move a muscle besides the involuntary twitches her body made — a lingering affect of the repeated use of the Cruciatus curse on her, one that Sebastian hoped was only temporary.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” Sebastian said softly as his arm looped behind her knees, making it easier for him to fully pull her out of the cage. Sebastian sat down on the ground from the kneeling position he had been in as he pulled her body as close to him as possible between his outstretched legs. He put an arm around her shoulders to support her upper body as he held her close, his other arm wrapping around her too. “It’s okay, it’s over now… you’re safe, I’m here,” he said softly before resting his chin against the top of her head. He was just happy to have found her— while she was still breathing. Y/n body still ached from the curse being cast over and over, as if every drop of strength she once had was gone — now barely even able to sit herself up on her own, her upper body being supported by Sebastian, her head resting just at his shoulder as she sat between his legs, Sebastian had let the second arm that wrapped around her fall and moved her legs so they lay over one of his own spread legs so she was in a position that helped him hold her even closer — almost scared that if she wasn’t curled into him that he might lose her again.

Her voice was soft, and slightly weak when she spoke; “I’m sorry Sebastian-” her attempt at apologising for leaving Sebastian behind was cut short by a chorus of “shhh”s that came from him. His hand that had moved her legs then ran through the side of her hair as he placed a kiss atop her head in an attempt to sooth her, as well as himself. “Don’t apologise, please. You’re safe now,” Sebastian said with a light shaky voice, his chin resting on the top of her head, unwilling to let her out of the attempted embrace.

A sudden crack of a tree branch breaking, along with footsteps made Sebastian’s head snap in the direction it came from as his heart began pounding again while y/n felt a surge of fear when the sound rang through the air, instantly thinking of the situation she had barely just escaped not long ago, and she began to tremble slightly with fear.

Sebastian’s own mind went to the worst scenarios possible; more poachers, more ashwinders, some of Ranrok’s loyal goblins — but as quick as his mind presumed danger, the cause of the sounds stepped from the dark shadows into the camp. Sebastian had taken note of y/n’s slight shaking, her head turned into his chest and he began to try soothe her again. “Hey, it’s okay- it’s only Highwing,” Sebastian said softly as he stroked her hair again, his thumb brushed against her cheek occasionally — something that gave y/n a sense of warmth and comfort.

Highwing stepped into the camp and instantly saw Sebastian on the ground with y/n, and even the Hippogriff seemed worried at the sight of the two students as she stepped slowly and carefully across the camp towards the friends. As she grew closer, Sebastian noticed something in her mouth and he raised his eyebrow slightly to himself. Despite the light front the still burning campfire, it did little to help Sebastian pin-point what she was carrying. Y/n’s head rested against Sebastian’s chest as she turned her head ever-so-slightly to see the Hippogriff approaching slowly. As Highwing stood infront of the two friends, she bowed her head to them as she dropped what she was carrying from her mouth just by where y/n layed on Sebastian. “Looks like someone’s brought you something you may have lost,” Sebastian said with a smile as Highwing nudged the object closer with her beak.

On noticing it was a wand that Highwing carried over so diligently, Sebastian reached out the hand that once administered comforting touches to y/n, the other remained around her shoulders and picked up the wand, tucking it into the inside pocket of y/n’s robes for safety. A small smile danced across y/n face as Sebastian placed her wand away safe and turned her head slightly more to look at the loyal Hippogriff. “Thank you, Highwing,” she said, resulting in Highwing raising her head and letting out a satisfied sound before she lay back fully on the ground. Sebastian and y/n watched Highwing settle for a moment before y/n turned her attention back to Sebastian, looking up at him slightly as she took a moment to think about her words.

“And.. thank you, Sebastian… If you hadn’t had come I-” before she had a chance to get the next word out, Sebastian had cut her off. “Stop,” he said, the word was demanding but his voice was gentle as his hand ran through the side of her hair once more before resting on her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen from her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me. The most important thing is that you’re safe” Sebastian said as he looked at her with his brown eyes that seemed to make his gentle words seem even softer.  As he spoke, his words caused her heart to swell. Sebastian’s voice was more gentle than usual, an inflection of a deeper care for her rang through his words leaving the two to share in a quiet moment before y/n broke the silence - not being completely sure how to approach the conversation.

“When you told me what you heard the day Anne was cursed… ‘children should be seen and not heard’..” she said in a soft voice, hoping to cushion whatever blow her words were about to have on him. She could feel Sebastian’s body tense up underneath her and noticed how the arm around her tensed as his jaw clenched. Sebastian’s heartbeat increased as a mix of anxiety, anger and anticipation bubbled within him - not speaking a word, rathering to let her say what she had to say. “..when the ashwinders had me, one of them said the exact same thing..” she paused for a moment, her own anxiety brewing at the thought of how Sebastian would react. “..they were quoting Rookwood, Sebastian.. Rookwood was there that day, he was the one to curse Anne..” she finally said as she looked up at him, gauging his reaction to her revealing the truth behind his sisters condition.

She had expected Sebastian to take the news badly, terribly even - and he would have been right to. Instead, Sebastian gave a small nod as his jaw remained clenched. He wanted nothing more than to go find Rookwood in that moment and make him pay.. To make him experience even a percentage of the pain and suffering his sister had no escape from. Despite his desire to go find Rookwood and do such unforgivable things, he knew in that moment y/n needed him, even if she wouldn’t admit it to him - or herself. He continued to hold her, his grip around her tightened ever-so slightly; a signal to her that despite his quiet demeanour, his mind was anything but.

Her soft hand being placed on his one of his anger-flushed cheeks pulled him from his thoughts long enough to notice her looking up at him, concern etched across her features. “…we will find him Sebastian, we’ll make him pay. I promise.” her words were flooded with sincerity and determination as she spoke, her eyes locked on his. Regardless of what she had just been through, it was clear that Sebastian and his sisters situation was a priority to her rather than her own wellbeing; her selflessness, her care and determination made Sebastian’s true feelings for her flourish more than they had already. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sebastian’s lips as he gave a gentle nod, not trusting his voice to not waver at her promise. Her words and touch soothed the anger that was twisting within him; it slowly being subdued by the emotions that came as a result of her tender actions.

The two sat there for a moment without speaking a word, instead they just looked into each other’s eyes as the campfire’s slowly dwindling flames cast a warm glow on them. It seemed like the rest of the world melted away around them, as if the Fiendfyre came back to life and swirled them in their own bubble. Every thing in that moment, from the breathing of Highwing who lay not far away to the sounds of nature around them, felt right. Y/n was so wrapped up in the moment, so lost in the brown eyes that bore into her own that she didn’t notice Sebastian’s free hand making it way up until it was placed on her cheek, his thumb grazed over her soft skin in such a gentle way that it made goosebumps wash over her skin. Not a single word was shared between the two, instead it felt like the two were the opposite end of magnets that drew closer to each other in slow motion. Her eyes flicked between his and his lips as his face drew closer to hers, both heartbeats sharing an increased speed as their breaths were slightly elevated against one another's. Everything seemed to move slowly as the distance between them decreased, the tension increased; anticipation bubbling under both of their skins until their lips finally met.

It felt like every firework in the world had been set off simultaneously the second his lips touched hers, for both of them. Sebastian's hand moved from cupping her cheek and ran through the side of her hair before stopping at the back of her head, their lips never parting once as they finally indulged in their once-hidden feelings towards each other.

Everything seemed at peace — even if just for a moment. No thoughts of dark wizards, or goblins intent on destroying the world, or the trip to St. Mungo's that y/n would undoubtedly require For just a moment, the two didn’t feel the pressures of the crumbling world around them, didn’t feel the pressure of all the odds being stacked against them. Instead, they let themselves melt into each others touch, revelling in the kiss that spoke volumes for them — the anxieties relating to their feelings for one another that they had both bottled and shoved aside all melted away.

It wasn’t a moment they would rush from, for the first time that year they felt a sense genuine relief and happiness wash over them, as if the pair had The Draught of Peace coursing through them.

It was a moment of genuine emotion, genuine connection between them - two kindred spirits coming together like dancing flames that grew as one as they intertwined with one another; and nothing could ever snuff out the spark.

(a/n; thank you guys for reading, hopefully it wasn't as bad as it is in my mind~ I'm gonna start posting more regular fics/one shots/scenarios I've been building in my head so keep an eye out💖)

💖Sebastian Sallow Taglist💖 @angel-anna @cyan1decandy (let me know if you want to be added for upcoming fics)

[bizlybebo]

anyways hey girl. omoris your prime defenders

explanation of this au below cut cause i actually put a lot of thought into it (HUGE SPOILERS FOR OMORI, PRIME DEFENDERS SEASON 1, AND VAGUELY FOR PRIME DEFENDERS SEASON 2)

—-

this is a pretty different take on the omori dynamic, because it strays pretty far from it obviously. i didn’t really give the party any direct parallels to any of the characters characters (except ashe, because this au is meant to take place in her brain).

gist of it: “headspace” is where ashe went when the trickster took her brain over. it’s where she spends most of her days, but that doesn’t mean she’s not haunted by her past and the glimpses of the real world she gets.

instead of collecting keys for the hangman puzzle, she collects pages, like from her book. each page summons a boss battle against/interaction with the entity on it. sometimes it’s benign stuff like the healing angel or duck, and sometimes it’s not. when ashe levels up to like. level 5 or something she unlocks the giant spectral hand which she used for a lot of combat in season 1.

in a lot of points during an omori playthrough, collecting a key for hangman would trigger a memory. when ashe interacts with a benign spirit from a page, she gets a happy memory, like getting pizza with everyone. when she fights off a malicious spirit, she gets an occasional glimpse into the real world— and sees the destruction the trickster has done and the effect it’s had on everybody.

instead of making ashe’s sprite entirely black and white, i chose to keep her colors pretty dull but also still rather close to her real world colors. this is cause of the symbolism of the other pd boys, and the fact that they all have very vibrant monochrome designs. before they showed up in ashe’s life, her days were very dull, spent cooped up in her room, and when they barged into her house on some random tuesday, they brought color back into her life.

and, obviously, ashe’s “something” would be her mother.

in combat, ashe gets to use moves from the pages she collected. vyncent does knife-based attacks but every couple turns can “charge up” for a small magic one (like how he can light small fires). william does ghost-based attacks, and so he does best when team attacking with ashe. dakota has martial arts-based attacks (basically pretty similar to kel’s skill set from the game). he also has the most hp and is usually the tank of the party.

i’ll probably add some more to this later but this ideas been sitting in my brain for like two days now i needed to get it out

[sammyboyimagines]

Cold Embrace

Astarion x Fem!Reader

//ahh! first time writing for BG3 since I started playing in September. So excited to write for all the characters! This takes place somewhere in ACT 2.

Summary: Astarion had a nasty habit of taking every moment to scrutinize your actions. But in a moment of forced closeness, you have no choice but to talk it out.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Astarion's past, mean!Astarion.

Word Count: 3.7k

The darkness of the Shadowlands brought on a new wave of anxiety through you the deeper you got into the thick bristle surrounding its past. It reminded you of your home, the war-torn town ravaged by bombing, raiders of all races, and rapidly spreading fires that enveloped any hope of survival. Shortly after fleeing your home and heading to Baldur’s Gate, you had a nasty run-in with some mind flayers, and the adventure started there. The hidden shadows loomed over the party as you made your way to Last Light Inn, a shiver running down your spine.

The land itself was terrifying, but the fact that this dark realm reminded you of home was all the scarier. A runway from a young age, you found solace at Baldur’s Gate under the narrow alleyways and the occasional generous storefront owner who was nice enough to provide some currency or even some food to spare.

Every time the party left for another day of traversing through the harsh darkness, a pit of nausea sat at the bottom of your stomach like a pile of boulders, weighing you down. The faint smell of sulfur and ash filled the air, the flames of your torch providing the only medium of safety. And a flimsy medium of safety at that…

“Hey, soldier…Everything alright?” Karlach was, of course, the first to notice the change in your demeanor as she followed closely beside you. Her fiery hot temperature warmed your body as she stood beside you, notes of concern on her features. “You’re awfully quiet for someone so cheerful..” Karlach trailed off, a slight hesitation on her part.

It was true, you were generally the sunshine figure at camp, even when spirits were abysmally low. “I’m alright, it just brings back some bad memories, being here.” As much as Karlach’s comforting warmth beckoned you to dump all the information about your past right on her doorstep and walk away, you felt Karlach did not deserve to be burdened by your dark past coming back to haunt you.

“Well, either way, I’ll be sitting by the campfire later if you want to find me and talk about it, love.” Karlach pulled ahead, her hands swinging freely by her side. At times it seemed like nothing in all the planes could shake her, it was admirable. The journey through the Shadowlands was fraught with challenges, yet Karlach’s unwavering spirit and warmth brought light to the darkest of days.

You wished to feel the same way, dreaming that the overwhelming fear of losing it all would dissipate. The sunny days as you travel with your group to the Mountain Pass aided with your struggles. Long journeys ended with warm nights that felt like a comforting hug against your body on the bedroll. You watched the sky go dark and the warmth of the sun faded to a deep chill.

“Let’s change up the subject, shall we? What are you going to do about a certain someone at camp?” Karlach attempted a whisper, her voice only slightly lowered as she asked you.

The certain someone was a nuisance, a nagging pain that refused to scare off no matter how many times you threatened him midst frustrating battles after he made a snarky comment.

Astarion.

Each passing moment with the group only fueled hatred for the man—his penchant for feeding on your insecurities whenever they’d rear their head. One particular source of embarrassment in the recesses of your mind was the moment you came upon some cultists of the Absolute on the path from the Emerald Grove.

They had a sword to you, the sharp edge pressed tight against the small of your back. “Don’t you try anything, sweets. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll go free. Where is the godsdamned grove?” A low rumble of laughter shook the evil creature behind you. In that harrowing moment, you had two choices; give up the information or die.

Without a pause, you surrendered and gave half-truths. Anything that would send them down the wrong path with the confidence of ten men. Perhaps it was a survival instinct or a depressing act of cowardice. Emerging from the encounter, you felt the crushing weight of shame lingering over you. How could a leader surrender so easily?

The sad looks of pity from your party members weren’t the worst of it, no. It was Astarion’s biting taunts that sunk the deepest, an assault on your confidence.

“Are you going to be like this whenever we face anything other than a mere goblin?” His voice was laced with venom while he spoke. He shifted his weight onto one hip, eyebrows raised as he blatantly belittled you with no remorse.

You had decided to come out of the situation with grace rather than retaliation that day, especially considering the words that left his blood-hungry mouth as you turned your back to him to continue your journey; “Wonder when she’ll decide to sabotage us again.”

You pressed on, ignoring the sting as tears welled up in your eyes. Those words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of why you were here in the first place. The party followed closely behind, just out of view.

It’s safe to say that the vampire had been less than kind to you ever since you picked him up from the trail outside of the nautiloid. But even his harsh remarks did not warrant any reciprocity from you, instead an aching in your chest that could not be explained. An odd twist among the animosity.

You fingered your blade between your hands, absentmindedly admiring the smudges and tiny chips in its shiny silver exterior. The blade was a tangible reminder of the battles and hardships you had endured, the weapon’s previously shiny exterior now marked by scars just like you.

“What’s got you down, darling? Break a nail?” Astarion’s mockery dripping in amusement, the remark was yet another dagger stabbed into your back by your supposed “friend”.

“I can’t deal with this tonight, Astarion. Please, just leave me alone.” You sounded more sad than you intended, cringing at the sound of your own shaky voice. He didn’t get the message though.

After a quick silence, Astarion retorted with some venom of his own, like always. “Whatever, sulk all you want. We’re going to Moonrise tomorrow, and if you can’t handle it, then perhaps you should hang back at camp while the rest of us do the hard work.” A fake pout spread across his lips, his hands laid on his hips.

Astarion had no idea where his hostility came from. When you’re in his vicinity, he feels so vulnerable, like you know exactly what’s in his head. Your presence annoyed him simply because he didn’t know what to make of you. Why were you being so reserved despite his remarks?

“You know what?”

Your frustration finally boiled over as you threw your silver chalice onto the ground, the shitty wine spilling out as it clattered to the dirt floor. “I’m sick of listening to you spew all this bullshit, Astarion. You don’t know shit about me, not that I’d trust you not to use it as a weapon against me!” You approached him, a finger waived in his face as you followed his retreating footsteps.

“Now now, darling. You know I’m just teasing you-”

“Just teasing? You’re an insufferable asshole. Next time you want to approach me, it’d better be with an apology or you’ll leave with a wooden stake in your torso.” Your words caused an ear-splitting silence that only made you feel leagues worse. That threat caught the attention of the other camp members, Halsin and Karlach quickly jogging over to break it up.

Karlach dragged you away to her tent, allowing you to sit while she got set up for the night. “That was explosive! Had we waited any longer, you’d both be leaving with bruises and broken limbs. What in the hells happened?” Her outrage was understandable, but the red-hot fury rushing through your veins blurred any rational thought.

Meanwhile, Halsin stood in front of Astarion with his arms crossed. They were just out of earshot but you could tell Halsin was not pleased with the situation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, Karlach.” Before you could continue with your angry ranting, Karlach put a hand up to stop you.

“Uh-uh, you and Astarion must talk this out like proper adults. Can’t believe I’m the one telling you to cool off, but it’s true.” She let out a small laugh at your pout. “And don’t give me the puppy pout, soldier…”

“Tomorrow, find an appropriate time to talk it out- without violence, please!” She grasped your shoulders firmly as she directed you towards your tent. Settling down for the night, you nestled yourself into bed with a myriad of thoughts swirling in your tadpole-filled head. As usual, sleep did not come easy.

The next morning, you awoke to the grating sound of Astarion banging two pots together. “Wake up, fearless leader! We’ve got a lot of people to murder today!” He shouted from outside your tent, snickering at his own actions. You heard Karlach shout at him as she yanked the pots from his hands.

“Get away before I break you in half…” The threat was fake, but it scared him off either way. He scoffed to himself, frustrated that the whole group danced around your feelings as if you were made of glass.

Your journey through the Shadowlands continued as you approached Last Light Inn. The aching in your feet was unbearable, each new step sent a new wave of aching through your body. The inn was so close, a faint light cutting through the dense darkness. It had to have been at least a couple of miles away at this point. Through the dark, monster-infested forest, the walk had been anything but relaxing.

The ground gave out underneath you, the dry unsaturated dirt falling and giving way to a deep hole in the ground. Perhaps it was a trap, you thought. Glancing around in the small space, you managed to find no evidence of foul play. Maybe it had just been the ground weakening after so many years in darkness?

Either way, the groaning just feet away from you made you glance below you to see Astarion slowly getting back on his feet. “Oh, this is just perfect. We were almost there, but no, we had to step into this trap-or whatever it is…” he whined to himself, glancing up at the rest of your party that stood above you.

“Shit! Hold on you two, we’ll look for something to help you out. We don’t have any rope on us, so we’ll have to see if we can find some!” Karlach shouted down at you both, digging through her pack for anything useful but not success. She whispered quietly to Gale, who gave a quick nod in response.

“Um, guys? What’s the plan here?” You voiced your concerns, and worry spread over your features.

The pair left quickly, making their way to Last Light Inn as fast as possible in an attempt to get assistance. “Where the hells did they go?” Astarion spat out, an angry expression on his face.

“To get help, what else?” You shrug. “Karlach wouldn’t leave us behind.” You leaned against the dirt wall of the hole, rubbing your temples as you felt a headache coming on.

“Unlike someone in our little band.” Astarion chuckled at his own joke, meanwhile, you were anything but amused. Direct attacks like these weren’t uncommon, but they still hurt nonetheless.

Words felt short as you searched your mind for some witty response. “What did I do to you?” You asked, a softer tone taking over. Astarion paused, looking you up and down.

“Excuse me?” He wasn’t sure he heard you right. Were you playing the victim?

“Did I do something wrong that made you decide to criticize me for everything? Or is it just your favorite pastime to make me feel like shit?” A shaky voice that came out as you spoke surprised you. You’ve faced more fearsome men than Astarion, yet you can’t keep your composure enough to scold him for his bad behavior.

Astarion paused for a moment, his breath quickening in realization of his actions. He traced his surging thoughts for a cause- any motive for treating you this way. But there was none.

Trapped in the darkness of the sinkhole, the urge to escape drew heavier and heavier as silence fell upon the two of you. Rescue could be hours- days away, who knows what danger could occur if they don’t return?

You had managed to stay far enough away from the vampire so that your backs were almost touching, a warmth from your body sending heat waves his way.

“There’s got to be a solution. Do you have any ideas? A shovel?” You cringed at your own unpreparedness, you’d forgone taking the shovel on your journey and left it in the chest of your belongings.

Your thoughts were cut off by an unwavering silence. Astarion had no retort, no sarcastic teasing, nothing. You huffed out a quick breath, the dirt wall shedding particles of dirt in consequence. “Look, I know we haven’t been pleasant with each other ever since we met, but I do not plan on dying in a hole.” You started clawing at the walls of the sinkhole, dirt clinging underneath your nails.

“I know you hate me but we have to assume the worst and-”

“I don’t hate you.” A soft voice broke the seemingly never-ending silence from Astarion’s side.

“What?” You stopped digging for a second, not being able to hear your own thoughts from the rock and rubble hitting the floor.

“I don’t hate you…” His expression softened, and his sharp features dulled into a tender gaze.

“If this is some kind of cruel joke, I’m not playing a role in it. From the way that you speak to me, would it be unfair to assume you’re not a fan of my presence?” You did not want to chew him out, but this day could not get worse, so you neglected your inhibitions for now.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why, but I just can’t…” he took a pause to think about his wording because you’d surely dig your way out and bury him if he found himself offending you.

“I can’t uh- function when you’re around. I feel like you’re- ugh I don’t know, pitying me?” He asked as if it were a question you could answer.

“Pitying you-what?” You could hardly see his face, but you could slightly visualize his white curls as he stood almost a foot away from you. You could smell his cologne, a faint woody yet citrus smell that made you dizzy.

He may be beyond aggravating but godsdamn did he smell good.

The confined space seemed to magnify the tense emotions between you. It was almost intimate, the way you could practically cut the thick tension with a knife. “You’re just so, nice…” He started speaking again, a different tone in his voice.

Honesty.

Astarion could sense your anger before you erupted and shoved him against the dirt wall. A wave of heat rose to his cheeks- was he blushing?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Astarion? You treated me like shit because I was nice to you? You better have an explanation-” He cut you off by pressing you back and right into the dirt wall behind you. Any frustrated words fell on your tongue before you could say them.

“You pick me up off a random trail, offer me to stay with you, and treat me better than I have ever felt. After years of bullshit from my master, all of a sudden you come around as a result of these fucking tadpoles, and I just trust you.” He paused when he noticed the heavy silence from you.

The unexpected confession was fucked up, especially considering that he could have had this conversation in the time he’d been in your party. “Why-”

“As much as I love to hear your voice, let me finish.” With that, your stomach fluttered in response to him. Not just his words, but his large hands that pressed your shoulders gently into the wall. It wasn’t a hard grasp, you could absolutely pull away if needed.

“I have never trusted anyone in my entire lifetime. But from the moment I pulled that knife on you, I knew you were nothing but genuine. And that’s just it. Why are you so nice despite everything I’ve done to you? Just tell me you hate me, be rude.” He begged you.

“I don’t hate you.” You were copying him now, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“See! Pity. Just tell me you have some kind of ulterior motive and you’re not the first person who has shown me any kindness in over 200 years.” He was almost moved to tears at this moment. His hands shook, just mere centimeters from yours as he pleaded for any sign of hatred on your part.

Of course, he didn’t hate you. How could he?

The way you blindly trusted him had him suspicious at first, but the more he grew to know you, the more he appreciated it. It wasn’t so much the physical aspects that he enjoyed, though you were the most stunning woman he’d seen in his many centuries on Faerûn.

Your eyes were almost magnetic, the adoring glint in them when you gawked at a cat or anything else that caught your attention made him wish you’d glance at him that way. Hells, if you’d give him a single smile, he’d be reminiscing about it for the rest of the day. Feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in several years, and seeing the forest in its full color, neither compared.

His breaths were heavy with insecurity, a pit in his stomach as he gathered the courage to raise his gaze to you.

You spoke softly. “You know you’re not a bad person, right? You’re not a monster.” You shrug it off as if it were a fact that simply rolled off your tongue without a single residual thought. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Your voice shrunk slightly, realizing how heavy this confession might weigh on a vampire spawn.

Astarion was speechless for a brief moment, an incomprehensible look on his face. “If only everyone else thought the same, dear.” He didn’t quite know what to respond with. After all he’d put you through, the feeding, the enemies he’d made along the way; he’d understand if you had run away in fear, but you didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you.” You frown at his words, the feeling of his body against yours is intoxicating, but you manage to push away your lust for the time being. “Hells, it doesn’t even matter what I think of you-”

“It does! Look…” He sighed to himself, removing his grasp on your shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, resting on the slightly rusted metal armor you had acquired somewhere in the recesses of the Githyanki Creche. “I care what you think…” His red eyes glared down at you, his gaze flicking down to your lips occasionally.

“I’ve been unfair to you, dear. I held you to higher standards and scrutinized everything you did as if I could do it any better than you. You’re just uh- not like anyone I’ve ever met, and the fact that you can understand me better than myself it seems-” He paused, another sigh leaving his lips.

“It scares me.”

Astarion’s gaze faltered from his confession, a taste in his mouth that could only be described as embarrassment. Dragged from his thoughts yet again, your warm hands met with his face as you held his cheek. “I understand, Astarion. But you also have to understand that I couldn’t have possibly known your true intentions. I mean- that was some heavy scrutiny…” You snickered to yourself, watching the embarrassment on his face melt away into a softer expression.

The rest of the campaign had not arrived just yet, and the blistering cold air was near impossible to beat. Though Astarion’s body was not very helpful for warmth, it felt better than simply standing on your lonesome in the small dirt hole.

Between the close proximity and your hand on the side of his face, his mind was clouding with desire. “Gods, how could you stand all of it? If it were me I’d have bloody killed you by now.” He said with a pout on his face.

You thought of how to respond to that. Was it not sheer luck that you hadn’t murdered him near the nautiloid after he threatened you? Have you been harboring these feelings this whole time?

“Perhaps it’s your charm, or perhaps it’s the fact that there is little other option than to be friendly with you.” You held your tongue as often as possible during Astarion’s teasing, but it seemed like he finally understood.

“No no, I think it was the first one.” He stuttered out with a gentle smile, his fangs briefly appearing, shining in the faint moonlight. “You know…the rest of the group is going to be gone for a while. I know a way we can make time go faster…” The topic of your interest in him had always kept him awake at night, but now that he was positive you felt charmed by his words despite his endless mockery, he felt warm inside.

Astarion was not blissfully unaware of his past. Men and women would see him for one thing; his body. If he were to withhold, the opportunity for praise from his master, Cazador, would be gone. You were not simply a victim for Cazador, so why did he feel like he needed to use himself to keep you?

You put a hand on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “Baby steps, darling. First, I think we should focus on getting out of this hole.” The sigh of relief that came from Astarion’s mouth confirmed your silent theory about him. The man had been extra flirtatious to practically everyone he met, and as the time you spent with the rest of your part grew larger, you could see his disdain with every passing word.

A frown on his face afterward, brows knit tight together in thought. Regret.

“Oh, well-” He paused, swallowing the urge to shell himself out. “That’s very refreshing to hear.”

“I’m glad.”

[devildomwriter]

Ten Manga I Think They’d Enjoy #2

Lucifer

He likes manga that reads like classic literature, dark stories, mysteries, psychological stories, and occasionally something sweet or cute

Children of the Whales, Mujirushi, PTSD Radio, Requiem of the Rose King, Shadows House, The Summer Hikaru Died, Togue Oni: Primal Gods in Ancient Times, Gachiakuta, Your Lie in April, Drops of God

Mammon

He likes stories involving his personal hobbies like working on cars, gambling, etc. he also enjoys funny stories and secretly cute romances or relatable romances

Play it Cool Guys, Bleach, Chibi Vampire, Daily Lives of High School Boys, Fire Force, I Belong to the Baddest Girl at School, I’m a Wolf But My Boss is a Sheep, My Monster Secret, Skip and Loafer, The Muscle Girl Next Door

Leviathan

Leviathan loves everything but he’s especially a fan of gaming manga, magical girls, monster girls, isekai, and the classics

A Centaur’s Life, Jobless Reincarnation, Yashahime Princess Half-Demon, If Witch Then Which, Banished From the Hero’s Party I Decided to Live a Quiet Life in the Country Side, My Clueless First Friend, Far-away Paladin, Geek Ex-Hitman, If the RPG World Had Social Media, Komi Can’t Communicate

Satan

Satan loves manga that reads like classical literature but he also loves stories about cats, dark mysteries, psychological stories and ones with characters he finds relatable

Case Study of Vanitas, Cat + Gamer, XXXHolic, Haunted Bookstore, Skull-Face Bookseller Honda-San, Vampire Library, Heavenly Delusion, I’m the Catlord’s Manservant, Infernal Devices, Library Wars

Asmodeus

Asmodeus mostly enjoys romance whether it’s cute and fluffy or extremely erotic

Nana to Kaoru, We Can’t Do Just Plain Love, We Started a Threesome, I Want You to Make Me Beautiful, In to the Tentacle Cave, Who Wants to Marry a Billionaire, Training Mr Sakurada, My Androgynous Boyfriend, Birds of Shangri-La, Interspecies Reviewers

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is a big fan of manga involving food but he also enjoys a good action adventure and sports manga

Crazy Food Truck, My Deer Friend Nokotan, One Punch Man, Restaurant to Another World, Let’s Eat Together Aki and Haru, How to Grill Our Love, Giant Spider and Me, Hajime no Ippo, How Heavy Are the Dumbbells You Lift?, Plus Sized Elf

Belphegor

Belphegor likes stories with relatable characters which can be hard to find but he also loves adventures, horror, and Slice of life; he’s a little all over the place

Servamp, Soara and the House of Monsters, Jujutsu Kaisen, Rurouni Kenshin, You Have No Human Rights, Uzumaki, SINoALICE, Gannibal, The Tree of Death, Dorohedoro

Solomon

Solomon loves compelling narratives, dark psychological stories, stories that take a deeper look a humanity and immortality, and one’s that involves demons/angels/sorcerers. He does also love cat books like Satan

Ancient Magus Bride, Blood on the Tracks, Bloody Mary, Of the Red Light and the Ayakashi, Demon Diary, Dr. Stone, Emanon, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, Magus of the Library, Mob Psycho 100

Thirteen

Thirteen is a little all over the place, she likes to see what’s popular but she also enjoys slashers, one’s that take a closer look at death and spirits, and dark romance

Duke of Death and His Maid, Executioner and Her Way of Life, Ghost Reaper Girl, No Longer Allowed in Another World, Versailles of the Dead, Your Turn to Die, Chainsaw Man, Your Letter, Solanin, Corpse Party

Simeon

Simeon enjoys reading manga that have some religious aspects, he likes ones about authors since they are relatable, and he enjoys some random ones here and there that are cute or funny. He’s also a sucker for a pure romance

Ceres Celestial Legend, Handa-Kun, A Witch’s Printing Office, Lord Hades Ruthless Marriage, Takopi’s Original Sin, Ride Your Wave, Haru’s Curse, Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artists Journey, Our Dreams at Dusk, Blue Flag

Raphael

Raphael canonically likes coming of age sports dramas. I believe he’s also he amused by one’s involving ant Christian aspects about angels and demons, heaven and hell. He also enjoys one’s that include his hobbies like security, military, and anything to do with fashion

Cheeky Brat, Waiting for Spring, Blue Box, Kuroko’s Basketball, Yowamushi Pedal, Ran and the Gray World, Mame Coordinate, Cinderella Closet, Kamikaze Girls, Anri a Shoemaker

Luke

Luke loves to try everything but his books are monitored to make sure he doesn’t stumble upon anything inappropriate for his age ana angel status. He loves ones about food, animals, adventure, and a good slice of life or 4-panel.

Cat Massage Therapy, Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokémon Adventures, Animal Crossing, My Little Pony: The Manga, Story of Seven Lives, Star Wars: Rebels, Dragon Ball, Disney Twisted Wonderland, Cardcaptor Sakura

Michael

Michael enjoys funny books, one’s that take a closer look at humanity and war, classical adaptations, and one’s involving angels and demons.

Record of Ragnarok, I Had That Same Dream Again, Skip Beat, Angel Sanctuary, Homunculus, The Ephemeral Scenes of Setsuna’s Journey, Alpi the Soul Sender, X, Ballad x Opera, Legend of the Nymph

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles likes books that involve history, nobility, prestigious jobs, mystery, and equestrian sports. He also enjoys one’s about demons and servants.

Chronicles of an Aristocrat Reborn in Another World, Great Jahy Will Not be Defeated, Villains Are Destined to Die, Vinland Saga, Cantarella, Kingdom, Blade of the Immortal, Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective, How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom, Ajin

Barbatos

Barbatos prefers books that are dark and disturbing as well as insightful books on time, immortality, grief, morality vs law, etc.

Coffee Moon, Drifting Classroom, His Majesty the Demon King’s Housekeeper, The Maid I Hired Recently is Mysterious, Horizon, The Lady and Her Butler, I Sold My Life For Ten Thousand Yen Per Year, Homunculus, Parasyte, Yokai Rental Shop

Diavolo

Diavolo absolutely loves cute family manga, funny manga, one’s that involve demons and angels, cute romances, and exciting action and adventure. He isn’t picky and will read anything if it’s been recommended to him.

Correspondence From the End of the Universe, Soul Eater, Given, In the Clear Moonlit Dusk, Juana and the Dragonewt’s Seven Kingdoms, Terrified Teacher at Ghoul School, Thigh High, Delinquent Daddy and Tender Teacher, Hate Me But Let Me Stay, Hinamatsuri

[biteofcherry]

Winter wonderland

More Precious Than Rubies Masterlist

Ruby Garden series

Dom!Steve Rogers x plus size female reader

summary: As a part of his Christmas gift for you, Steve takes you to a lovely ski resort.

warnings: none; it's all fluffy; a bit of teasing and innuendos

This is a very short winter/holiday treat.

Maybe it was the romantic in you, but there truly was something magical about the coziness of a warm interior with the view on the snowy slopes outside.

Orange hues from the fireplace danced in the window glass, making the mountains appear hauntingly alluring.

You stepped into one of the common areas in the resort with a smile on your face, that only broadened at the sight of pines and spruces decorated with Christmas lights and shiny baubles.

Fire crackled in the huge fireplace, people mingled around, enjoying soft conversations and bursts of laughter. You couldn't help but grin as you watched a man trot after his toddler, who bounced from one Christmas tree to another, poking at baubles and cackling.

Being in a place like this was never on your dream list, but Steve knew you well enough to predict that aspects of it would call out to you.

As always, without a fail, Steve swept your off your feet.

With the trip itself, because you both needed a bit of vacation away from all the buzz. And then with everything that followed. Including how fun he made your very first skiing lesson; and how he warmed you up later, introducing you to a golden ball gag - as shiny as a Christmas bauble.

Your Dom sure thought of all the aspects of staying in a resort and prepared strategically.

You kinda loved that about him, too.

Spotting Steve in the common area wasn't hard, even with all the people around. His silhouette alone was recognizable.

Even in the soft, gray sweater he was wearing, his body was impressive. Especially those tight jeans that made your fingers itch to squeeze his perfect ass.

There were curious eyes settled on him, which was no surprise. Though you knew how shocking it could be to some that it was you who walked over to him - your arm sneaking around Steve's waist as his immediately weaved around you, pulling you to his side.

A few years ago you'd bow your head in shame and run away, beating yourself with hateful comments and convincing yourself that all those jealous women were right to think that you looked ridiculous beside Steve.

That you didn't deserve to be with him.

While feeling eyes settle on you and suspecting some may whisper among themselves nasty comments and innuendos about you buying yourself a man to make an impression on others, you didn't cower.

You didn't move an inch away from Steve.

Quite the contrary, you leaned into his embrace and melted a little into the heat radiating off his body.

There were still occasional self-deprecating thoughts that haunted you. Other doubts and insecurities poked their heads up, as well. But they were ghosts of past demons, which you fought hard. With Steve beside you every step of the way.

You tilted your head up proudly and let your hand slip down, resting on Steve's ass.

A part of you hoped that everyone saw.

That they saw where your hand possessively rested and that this Greek god of a man didn't flinch away.

Maybe they even caught a sparkle of the diamond ring on your finger.

They could choke on their envy.

You barely stopped yourself from squeaking and apologizing on the spot when Steve looked down at you, his eyebrow quirked in question.

Instead, you clenched your fingers a bit, squeezing his butt.

Twinkles lightened Steve's blue eyes. His hand moved along your shoulder to the back of your neck. He didn't squeeze it in warning, but you were trained enough to know it's a sign he was an inch away from going full Dom on you.

"Are you looking for trouble, Darling?" Steve asked in a voice as soft and velvety as the chaise in your bedroom that you wanted to curl on like a cat.

"Not at all," you replied sweetly. "Just admiring all the slopes." You squeezed his ass again.

Then you simply moved your hand up, since you didn't want to push too far.

Steve's quiet laugh tickled your skin as he leaned down to kiss you. A demure kiss, fitting for a public display.

You were both used to doing far more debauched acts in plain view, but the crowds you undressed for were a familiar, consenting community. People here were not.

"I get it," Steve grinned, using his other hand to cup your chin. "I plan on exploring all the curves and caverns, as well. Thoroughly."

His cheek pressed against yours as Steve inched his mouth to your ear, whispering so that no one beside you would hear.

"Cover them all in white, too."

Steve felt you shudder in response. Undoubtedly heard your intake of breath as well.

Straightening as if an explicit current didn't just sizzle from your brain to your clit, Steve traced his fingers along your arm down to your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you with him towards the small bar.

"Would you like eggnog or spiced hot chocolate before dinner?" He simply asked.

"Eggnog is disgusting." You scrunched up your nose. You never liked it.

"For that alone you're getting five swats," Steve's tone was teasing, but you felt that he would be delivering anyway.

Good thing he bought that ball gag, you never could keep quiet when Steve's hands were on you.

[joaniejustwokeup]

DP x DC Prompt:

Summoning circles are more complicated than people give them credit for. They’re a bit like a mix between a thumb print, a name, a phone number, and a recipe; and at the same time, nothing like any of those things.

In reality, most summoning circles in spell books and ancient texts are incomplete, representing only a fraction of a particular spirit’s identity.

A complete circle will actually be a series of different summoning circles, with each concentric ring representing an aspect of the spirit’s identity and having individual requirements and/or offerings needed. Ghosts have an innate awareness of them and are able to draw and describe their requirements from any sort of inward reflection.

Ghosts will often give out incomplete circles as a means of communication and transportation. A single ring of the circle will only open the door, and each ring added makes the pull and connection to the summoner stronger. Ghosts will also sometimes use incomplete circles to mark and monitor their haunts and as a way of claiming territory.

A complete summoning circle will occasionally but inevitably change over time, as parts of the spirit’s identity change.

The circle will always be a closely guarded secret. This is because, much like giving your true name to the fae, giving out your full summoning circle will allow the summoner to not only capture you, but to command and control you.

After Danny was shown Dan’s future where he killed the world, he made Jazz memorize his complete circle and told her to use it if he ever turned evil. She thought he was being ridiculous, but learned the spell when she saw how frightened he had become of himself.

When the summoning circle of the Ghost King was added to his identity, he tried to make her memorize the new circle, only for her to flat out refuse, saying it’s not healthy for him to make these kind of contingencies. They get into a really bad fight and Danny flies off determined to find someone he can trust with his circle should he turn evil.

As he’s flying over his town he feels the slight tug on his consciousness indicating someone is trying to summon the Ghost King. He lets his awareness bleed through the summoning just enough to see that… yup it’s cultists again. At least there’s no sacrifices this time.

He’s about to shrug the summoning off like he has so many others when he suddenly sees someone fighting through the cultists. Oh! Make that several someones.

With a giddy sort of eagerness Danny watches Batman and his sidekicks cut through the crowd of religious fanatics, even taking down a couple that looked like they were using ghost-based magic. He’d always admired the Dark Knight, but seeing him fight in person is something else.

It’s as the hero is tying up the cultists and checking their injuries that a lightbulb goes off in Danny’s head, and, after a moment of steeling his determination, he lets himself be pulled through the summoning circle.

The Bats all tense up as the circle at the center of the room grows brighter, readying themselves for another fight. Danny tries to smile reassuringly as he feels his form materialize, though they likely can’t see it in the bright flash of light that accompanies it.

He frowns when he realizes the summoning had dressed him in his royal armor and cloak, the crown of fire burning above his head and ring of rage glaring from his right hand.

He tries raising his hands in an “I am not a threat,” pose, before realizing it looks exactly like the Box Ghost’s “Beware!” pose. He tucks his hands under his armpits, then awkwardly waves at the group of vigilantes.

“Hi there! Wow that was really cool- Thanks for taking care of these guys for me.”

The vigilantes once again tense up as Danny steps out of the circle towards them. Danny smiles sheepishly.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to talk to you, Batman.”

Batman steps forward, approaching Danny as he stands just outside the circle, a living shadow that looms larger than life. Still, Danny senses something soften in his gaze as he looks over the teenage Ghost King, stopping just out of reach of him. Danny gazes back at his childhood hero, hoping he’s making the right choice.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

[mehidktbh]

Sharing Is Caring

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You can’t sleep, it’s too overwhelming in your room and the memories get to your head too much. Thank God your Lieutenant has a soft spot for you.

Warning: War, a lot of military topics, swearing, minor injuries, sharing a bed, mentions of insomnia, talk a bit of Ghost’s past, reader has a bit of trauma, pining?, talk of readers' family, awkward tension, nightmares and trauma-based memories?

A/N: Can I just say that I fucking LOVE the idea of the force team having their own group barrack or having to share one with other soldiers. But let's just pretend you live with other soldiers in this story and that you're not divided by gender 👀

The haunting screams and yells awaken you from your slumber, your face drenched in sweat and a thick smell of fear engulfing you. Looking around your small room the faint light seeping through the bottom of the door meant someone was awake. Your room was quiet and dark, the faint sound of a TV or someone talking was the only thing you could hear if you focused hard enough. The window was open, the soft breeze flowing through your room, blocking the outside light from entering. But it still wasn't enough from keeping you at bay, you tried everything to sleep nowadays. From medication to doing soothing stuff before bed to taking other soldiers' advice but nothing worked. The taunting flashbacks haunted you from days of endless guns firing and the blood of enemies even when you got countless days off to relax it just never came.

You sat up in your bed (cot), taking in everything and mentally trying to calm yourself back to sleep, thinking about anything that brought you joy but nothing came. Your room had pictures of your task force on there, photos ranging from stupid and silly selfies to ones where you stood next to the others holding a serious stand. Other polaroids of stuff that your family occasionally sent you through letters, vacations they took and family pets. You were not one to really put your family/private life out there but then again you weren't ashamed of saying anything when the conversation was brought up.

A small desk sat right next to the door on the opposite side of your bed, files and papers crowded its limited space with stationary all over it too. But you didn't have time out of your day to think once about cleaning your room, you've seen other soldiers' rooms that look way worse. And there's never that time you have, you're either too busy or don't give a shit. You walk in most days after a long mission or training just to sit down at your desk and do work all over again or lousy change your clothes. Throwing them into a pile that's constantly there sometimes when you realise you made yourself a mountain of dirty clothes.

Getting up from your bed you tread carefully and cautiously over to your door, stepping over any unwanted things crowding your wooden floor or trying to make your way through the dark. You're used to being able to see through the dark on missions but now you take caution in not disturbing others who sleep right next to your room through the thin walls.

You begin to wonder how you're going to make it through the night, maybe take someone else's sleeping pills or just do an all-nighter but your too tired but still pretty shaken up enough to not sleep. Slowly and quietly opening your door you look down and up the hallway to investigate if anyone's around. Only the hallways are long and dimly lit, sometimes the lights stay on in the hallway or for some reason otherwise there off. The only thing illuminating the barrack/building is the TV that is playing.

Continuing to walk further down you pass multiple rooms, some times you hear people talking quietly enough so they don't bother others but still talking above a whisper. Others have their lights on which shine through the cracks in the door, from under to in between the hinges. You'd have to guess that it's roughly around 12-1sh, the second you pass a small opening or window you get the feeling of the dark vibe outside. And every night it's not common for half the people to be up and around, you hear through other soldiers about their experience. How they deal with insomnia but most times it's hard in these conditions, drill Sargents wake you up in the middle of the night to discuss training right then and there.

♡ ♡ ♡

After what seemed like an endless stream of doors on either side, countless whispers among others and lights shining through the doors. You finally reach the door, the wooden door stands intimately in front of you, some times doors can have the person's rank on the sign, showing which task force they belong to and their code name in metal. But the sign shows a clear neat bold wording of "Ghost (Task Force 141 Lieutenant)" There's nothing out of the ordinary and you hesitate for a while your knuckles touching the naked door but not moving. You're scared of how he'll react when you bring up your pathetic reasoning for disrupting him so late. But sighing heavily you quietly, your rapid and unsteady heart beats thick against your chest as you swallow the ball of saliva in your throat.

"Who is it...?" Ghost's tone was hard to determine but he seemed confused but also emotionless at the same time. "It's Y/N, sir." You cringed to yourself already regretting ever bringing yourself to his door but there was nothing you could do now as he would fish out your lie easily. "Come in." His husky tone signalled for you to enter. Upon opening the door you were met with his greasy flat dimmed room, the atmosphere felt a mix of emotions.

His room was a bit bigger than yours and others, his higher rank meant he got a bit more luxury, sometimes an A/C, but it's rare. He had a reasonable size desk that stood right next to his bed, untidy files littered it too as it was just as dirty. This time his room was rather bare and dusty, with no decoration anywhere, the walls or anything, only the basic thin sturdy walls stood tall.

Has was sitting upright in his bed, still wearing his previous clothes from training today with no excessive amour. His same old mask you've seen countless times covered his unknown face as he stared at your hunched-over pose. "Need something?" He questioned you, his eyes ranking over your tank top with rolled-up military pants. "I wanted to ask you a favour..." Your quiet and unwonted tone made Ghost more curious than in the first place, he cocked his head to the side allowing you to continue speaking.

"Could I maybe lay down with you..." Your surprising question fell silent through the room, the more you two awkwardly stood facing each other the more you cursed yourself for being so fucking stupid. Ghost felt a tingle in his body, his mind telling him no and how someone would probably walk in on you two and get the wrong impression. But then again your tired and exhausted shape felt hard through him, watching as your eyes tried to stay awake, rapidly blinking. As your tone of mind tried to make it seem as if you weren't sleepless to him, the bags under your eyes stained his head with memories of him being exactly like you.

He'd remember standing him in your shoes, his first few years of the military and staying in a barrack full of other men was stressful. Back then he had no one to direct him where to go and what to do he stared at the ceiling every night wishing he could surround his head into the pillows and drift to sleep. But it came to no easy task for him.

"Sure" He blurted out, watching as your face rose bashfully, stalking over one by one to his bed. You stood tense like a log as you watched him make room, sliding over as much as he could so you could rest with him. The bed wasn't too bad, kinda like your coat but more comfortable in size and it didn't feel like sleeping on a thin piece of cardboard.

Ghost waited for you to lay down fully, his stare invited you to get comfortable more so you wouldn't have to feel like you needed to be a guest in his room. He wanted to hear your soft breaths and snoring not your wide eyes staring at his back still restless. He could deal with himself not sleeping but you or his team were different. "Need another pillow? Blanket?" You quietly laughed nervously, shaking your head before he turned around to turn off the lamp sitting right on his desk. Hearing the tick and the sudden pitch black swallowing you whole was relaxing.

Now you couldn't hear anything, no TV playing down the hall and no whispering from anyone beside walls. You close your eyes painfully as you tried to keep your thighs and arms clenched together, making sure you took up as little space as possible. The blankets that Ghost had on his bed were just pulled up by him, his hand ghosting over near you as he tried to flatten it out more, making sure the thin material fits perfectly over you. Hearing his head hit the pillow as you begin to close out any thoughts, his rapid hot breath surprisingly hitting your nose as you didn't know he was facing you. His foot and hand came over to just nearly graze your skin, his calloused muscular hand was inches away from your hand. His foot just barely wrapped around your tightly squeezed thighs/legs.

As you slowly and peacefully drifted to sleep, your thoughts shut off as all you could focus on was Ghosts' breathing his pinkly now lightly grabbing yours. You could practically feel him grip tightly onto yours as you drifted to sleep at once.

[dsudis]

Who wants some sleepy domestic Emhyr/Geralt?

Got a kind of bewildering ask yesterday that I won't bother answering directly as it didn't seem particularly relevant to me, but it did remind me how much I enjoyed writing Witcher fic, and that I still have some bits of Emhyr/Geralt(/Eskel) fic I was working on that I've never shared, and I am in a sharing mood today!

This is from what would have been Urbe Aureā #5, in which Emhyr begins his courtship of Eskel by offering him any witcher's favorite thing: a job in Toussaint. Geralt, naturally, goes along with him, and then they come home to the palace in Nilfgaard, mostly unscathed...

Geralt knew just what to do this time, returning to Nilfgaard in the middle of the night. He parted from Eskel with a mumbled agreement to meet again in the morning, shed his weapons and everything else he could without scandalizing any servants he met, and went directly to Emhyr's rooms. 

He reached up to run a hand over the stubble that was all the hair left on the lower part of his head now. It was two days' growth, because that was how long it had taken him, Eskel, and occasionally Lambert, to deal with every other little problem someone had brought to their attention after the wraiths were dealt with.  

He hadn't been dawdling this time--not like the days he'd spent in Tretogor chasing down stray bandits and necrophages. He just... couldn't go off and leave the place knowing there was a problem with giant centipedes popping out of somebody's vineyard, and a nasty ghost haunting somebody else's well--and then he'd had to make a few patrols to check for signs of any vampires who'd started making nuisances of themselves since he left. Those always turned up again when there had been a lot of them in one place, like seeds germinated by a forest fire. 

But now, at last, he was done and back again. He and Eskel had availed themselves of the baths B.-B. had had waiting for them after they got back from sorting out those fleders, and then they'd agreed with barely a word to head back through the portal. They'd left Lambert asleep under his workbench, knowing well that he'd be happier to bitch about them leaving without a goodbye than to actually suffer through any parting scene. 

And, after all, he knew exactly where to find them if he wanted them. 

Geralt let himself into Emhyr's rooms and hesitated, listening out for a moment, but Emhyr didn't rush out to meet him as he had that time before. Maybe he'd slept a little easier, knowing Geralt had left on Emhyr's own errand, and with backup to boot. Maybe he just didn't expect Geralt to have returned after only a few days. 

Either way, there was no point lingering in the sitting room. Geralt let himself into the bedchamber, and his heart did something painful and fond at the sight of Emhyr sleeping. He tried to ignore it, willed it away, even as he was walking over. He was at the side of the bed when he remembered: he loved Emhyr, and he knew that, and Eskel knew that, and Emhyr probably knew that, and as yet that hadn't brought about any more than the usual amount of destruction.  

He could just... feel it. He could look at Emhyr sleeping, with his head on one pillow and another tucked under his arm like he'd lost the knack of sleeping without another body to lean against, and feel like he belonged there. In Emhyr's bed, in his arms, in his life, because that was a role he could fill, a job he could do. He could be the Emperor's Witcher and like it.  

Emhyr didn't move--didn't give himself away, if the lurker in his bedchamber had been anyone less astute--but Geralt knew the moment he woke.  

"Not an assassin," Geralt said softly. "Just--" 

Emhyr pushed himself up to sit, a wash of delight turning his craggy features almost young, in the little light that reached Geralt's eyes. Mindful that Emhyr could see even less than he could in this dark, he stepped forward, holding his hands out, saving Emhyr the trouble of disentangling himself from the bedcovers.  

"My dear witcher," Emhyr murmured, catching his hands and tugging him closer still, then catching his mouth in a kiss. "Where is your partner?" 

Geralt laughed a little against Emhyr's mouth. "Not so quickly won over as that, dear majesty. But he did come back with me, safe and sound. He's in his own room, probably already asleep." 

"Excellent," Emhyr said, and he genuinely did sound pleased. And he'd asked about Eskel first thing, when he might have ignored the whole matter of him until morning, and that, too, made Geralt's heart squeeze.  

"And yourself?" Emhyr went on, his hands releasing Geralt's and sliding up his arms. "You smell clean enough, but you know I am not as keen as one of you. Any injuries? Any trouble?" 

"Not as such," Geralt said, climbing onto the edge of the bed so Emhyr could reach more of him, and taking Emhyr's hand to guide it up to the base of his skull. "Lost some hair." 

"A pity," Emhyr murmured, running warm fingers over the shorn part of Geralt's scalp before he settled his hand on the nape of Geralt's neck and tugged him into a deeper kiss.  

Geralt leaned into Emhyr's firm grip, his whole body easing, muscles relaxing that had been faintly tensed for days on end. That human-strong hold on him and Emhyr's mint-clean mouth coaxing his open meant that he was home safe, done with the job, and it was finally time to let his guard down. He let himself sway into Emhyr, trusting his weight to the solid warmth of Emhyr's body. 

Emhyr let out a little grunt, though his body betrayed no great evidence of straining under the pressure. He closed his other arm around Geralt and eased them both down, not bothering to sort out the covers or get Geralt naked--as though all that mattered was both of them here, at their ease. As though he needed nothing more than that. 

Geralt sighed, nuzzling at Emhyr's chest, and went out like a blown candle. 

[mariettebonneville]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

Imagine a setting deep within the peaceful embrace of a wintry forest, where the night sky unveils a tapestry of stars, untouched by city lights.

The air is crisp, and the only sounds are the whispers of the wind and the soft rustle of pine needles. A fire pit crackles somewhere in the far distance of the camp, its glow flickering off the snow, casting both warmth and dancing shadows around.

You're there with someone special, the thrill of the season's chill unnoticed because the moment is warming. Wrapped in layers, you and your companion are snuggled beneath an expansive blanket, the fabric dusted with frosty specks that twinkle under the celestial dome.

As you lay there, hands entwined, a comfortable silence envelops you. The connection feels so deep that words would fail to contain it. Instead, a simple squeeze of the hand speaks volumes, a tender gesture far louder than language. The occasional squeeze back feels reassuring, a silent affirmation that echoes your own sentiments.

The unexpected vibration of a phone disrupts the serene scene—a rare signal penetrating this secluded sanctuary. Reluctantly, you glance at the screen, and there's your partner's message full of concern. Confusion sets in. If they are still in the tent, who—or what—is beside you?

Fear sharpens your senses as you turn to reassess your supposed companion. The being beside you seems human, but its movements are odd, disjointed.

It blinks, not in unison but one eye after another, an eerie imitation of human behavior. The realization crashes into you with a chilling wave of terror.

The once-comforting grip tightens. The simple human gesture that you found so endearing now sends a bolt of primal fear through you.

Where once you felt only connection, now there's a haunting void, a presence mimicking life but soulless, casting a shadow over the pristine beauty of this solitary winter escape.

It's a moment of pure, heart-pounding horror as the stillness of your winter camping trip transforms into a scene straight from a nightmare.

The stark, frozen woods became a silent observer to a fearsome truth: the comforting hand you had held belonged to something otherworldly—a chilling facade mimicking the man you cherished, a skinwalker lurking beneath stolen flesh...

[lonelyvermonster]

There, But Never Really Back

TW: Mentions of death and PTSD

While watching The Hobbit I began to think about what it must have been like for Bilbo after he returned home. The books and movies don't talk about the trauma. How much of bilbos life must have been different after the quest. The other hobbits talk about how reclusive he becomes in his later years, but I want to know more from bilbos side.

How terrifying it must have been for Bilbo the first night he slept in his own bed; finally safe again, only to awake screaming. Blood and fire and dead blue eyes haunting him. I wonder how many years it took Bilbo before he no longer carried Sting everywhere he went. How much longer still before he stopped needing to check to make sure that horrifying blue glow didn't come back. It may not have been present in the books or the movie, but Sting gained a permanent place next to Bilbo's bed.

It didn't take long for Bilbo to pull away from everyone else but it's only because how could he possibly expect them to understand. How could the innocent hobbits who have never known war and death be able to understand the haunted look in his eyes? How odd he must have seemed. The only Hobbit who wouldn't eat any stew at the gatherings and parties. The only Hobbit who shrunk away from hugs because being grabbed was no longer comforting.

Do you think the first time someone tried to pull him into a hug he was overtaken with fear, Thorin's name slipping from his lips?

Do you think Bilbo noticed the way people would stare at him? The Hobbit's may have noticed him pull away, but I don't think they noticed the rest. They may have heard about trolls and dragons, but they didn't know about the sickly little creature he found in that cave. They didn't know about the nights he would wake up frightened, eyes searching for the shadows for Gollum. His neighbors didn't notice how he froze up the first time he heard a little hobbitling ask for some "eggsies". He still spun the occasional riddle but there were some he never repeated again.

Then there is the protectiveness that often comes from the trauma of watching others die.

How odd it must have been for Merry and Pippin's parents to watch Bilbo fiercely defend them against those who disapproved of their pranks and yet in the next breath berate them for the danger they put themselves in. The first time the boys got hurt bilbo could barely stand to see them; the image of two young dwarves who he had loved like family all his mind could see.

God how much worse that must have been when Frodo came along.

Dark black curls and bright blue eyes. Just close enough to haunt him. When that little hobbitling came into his life, how much of his decision to take him in was because he looked like Thorin? How many nights did Bilbo peak his head into Frodo's room to reassure himself that Frodo was alive and breathing, rather than laying on a stone slab? He protected him the way he could not protect his dwarf. Yet he also never bought him a single piece of clothing that was blue.

He filled that hobbit hole with greens and yellows and browns. Never blue. That color was perhaps the deepest tie to the pain he carried. Blue fabric, blue eyes, blue light; all capable of spiraling him into a pit of hellish memories. There were days he could not even bear to go outside because even the blue of the sky was too much.

Because at the end of the day Gandalf was right.

Bilbo was not the same, and he never would be again.