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autistichalsin · 8 months

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All dialogue options for Halsin's request for a story for the children in the epilogue

There are generic options, unique options for Durges, each Origin, and even for Origin paths (I.E. Justiciar Shadowheart vs Selune path Shadowheart) so I thought I'd collect them all here! There are some nice characterization moments here, and I love Halsin's reactions to some of these. (Also, I had no idea Gale could still ascend to godhood as a mindflayer? Or at least there's dialogue for it here...) I hope you guys enjoys these!

All characters/Tav:

Regale Halsin with tales of your past six months.

Halsin: You have kept yourself busy - I expected no less, in truth. I shall be able to keep the children enthralled for a few more nights yet, thanks to you. And should you wish to retell of your exploits in person? Well, I shall not object to a night off.

All characters/Tav:

The truth may be a little flat. Spice it up a little. (This triggers a skill roll for deception)

If the roll succeeds:

Halsin: You are truly incapable of disappointing. The children shall be rapt - and have no fear; all due credit shall be given to the tale's originator.

If the roll fails:

Halsin: Hmm, do I detect a certain... exaggeration? You could give Master Geddarm a run for his gold - though I suppose he has little need for it now, Oak Father bless him. In any case, my audience will favour a good tale over veracity any day - I thank you for your offering.

Any character who accompanied Karlach to Avernus:

Halsin: I am glad you and Karlach have an enduring friendship - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Any player who became a mindflayer:

My exploits have been limited by my new form. I live as a pariah, feared by most.

Halsin: Yet not by me. I shall tell the children of your heroism and sacrifice. They shall know what they owe to you, trust me.

Mindflayer characters who have plans with the Emperor:

I have been dwelling far from the public eye. Yet the Emperor and I have grand plans in motion - that I cannot speak of.

Halsin: Too murky for a children's tale, I fear. Perhaps I should focus on the hero you were, and the sacrifice you made. But thank you for sharing, nonetheless.

Mind flayer characters who are allied with the Emperor:

My new form demands discretion. I have been amassing power in the shadows with my ally, the emperor.

Halsin: I see. Perhaps the children can learn something from your ambition in the face of adversity. Thank you.

Mindflayer characters who killed the Emperor:

My exploits have been limited by my new form. I live as a pariah, feared by most.

Halsin: And with an appetite for the grey ambrosia that dwells within every skull, I presume? Perhaps I shall remind the children of your heroism and self-sacrifice... and skip over the brain-eating until they are older.

Dragonborn Dark Urge:

How about a ghost story? A spectral dragon who will haunt the little ones' dreams, if they don't behave.,

Halsin: Most enthralling - though perhaps it may lead to some sleepless nights for the younger ones. I can make something palatable with a little showmanship and creative licence - thank you.

Any Dark Urge:

Tell Halsin a detective story, where in the end, the intrepid Fist discovers they had been committing the murders all along.

Halsin: A touch bleak perhaps, but considering the amount of orphans in my audience, I am sure they shall manage. I can make something palatable with a little showmanship and creative licence - thank you.

God Gale:

Recall the parable of the Yearning Orphan, your youngest follower and already a great prophet spreading your doctrine...

Halsin: You are truly incapable of disappointing. The children shall be rapt - and have no fear; all due credit shall be given to the tale's originator.

Also God Gale:

Tell him of the tribulations of godhood. The politics, the bureaucracy, the endless prayers to answer...

Halsin: Well luckily for you, mortals have a habit of embellishing their run-ins with gods... I am sure I can muster something to captivate the children from what I can glean of you.

God Gale:

Well, I have developed a taste for togas, for one thing.

Halsin: I am glad you have kept yourself occupied. No doubt I will be able to spin a few yarns from the children from this. Thank you.

Mindflayer God Gale:

Well, I've been doing my best to not frighten my followers. I'd hate to be one of those gods.

Halsin: I am glad you have kept yourself occupied. No doubt I will be able to spin a few yarns from the children from this. Thank you.

Non-god Gale who went back to Waterdeep:

I've been researching the tale of the first Blackstaff, Khelben Arunsun. My abridged notes would make for a fascinating bedtime story.

Halsin: I see... well I trust your sources, of course. Perhaps the historical record can survive an embellishment or two, for the sake of the children. In any case, you have my gratitude.

Non-god Gale who didn't return to Waterdeep:

What haven't I done? Delved into dungeons, read secret tomes, taken out a rogue shadow mage or two. Enough magic and mystery for a treasury of tales.

Halsin: Why, Master Dekarios, I had no idea you would continue to stoke the fires of adventure. I commend you - as shall the children, once they hear of your exploits. Thank you.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

Tell Halsin of how you consolidated your power over Lady Shar's church, purging the disloyal with bloody vigor.

Halsin: My. Perhaps a tale for the older children, once I trim off a few of the... less savoury details. But thank you, all the same.

Also Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I have been continuing to serve Lady Shar however I can.

Halsin: You are stalwart, even in service of darkness. There will be a lesson there for me to impart to the children... with a few details glossed over, perhaps. Thank you.

Selune path Shadowheart who killed her parents:

Tell Halsin of how you've roamed far and wide, now that you are free of Shar.

Halsin: The shadows were concealing a true adventurer's heart then. Thank you - the children shall be rapt.

Shadowheart whose parents are alive, whether Selune path or Dark Justiciar:

Regale Halsin with tales of your tranquil life with your family and coterie of animals.

Halsin: Yes, I thought I caught the scent of a wolf upon the wind... the children shall love this, but be warned - they may insist upon a visit.

Selune path Shadowheart:

I have been forging my own path, away from Shar's influence.

Halsin: I shall be honoured to speak of you to the children. To embrace change as you have shall make for a stirring example. Thank you.

Any path Shadowheart:

I've been at something of a loose end - roaming and adventuring as I see fit.

Halsin: Countless tales have begun with a roaming adventurer - I am sure I shall keep the children enthralled for years to come with your exploits. Thank you.

Orpheus path Lae'zel:

I have ridden a red dragon to battle as a Warrior of the Comet. The lich queen Vlaakith will fall by my hand.

Halsin: Oak Father preserve you - I hope you have a tight hold on the beast. But this shall make for a most stirring tale for the children. I may even have to tone down the details, for fear they get too excited...

Lae'zel who stayed in Faerun:

I have travelled the harshest lands of the Sword Coast, piercing the hearts of the lich queen's countless assassins.

Halsin: Ha! I think some of the more bloodthirsty children will relish this, thank you.

Wyll who became a Grand Duke and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

I embraced my hellish side and dedicated my life to rebuilding the grand city of Baldur's Gate.

Halsin: The makings of the multi-night epic. The children shall rush to their bunks in order to hear the next chapter, thank you.

Wyll who became a Grand Duke but didn't continue his pact with Mizora:

I turned from my hellish past and dedicated my life to rebuilding the grand city of Baldur's Gate.

Halsin: A noble calling. Your tale shall inspire a whole generation. Thank you.

Wyll who stayed the Blade of Frontiers and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

The Sword Coast is safe as ever thanks to the Blade and his infernal powers.

Halsin: The classic tale of the Blade, but with a twist? This shall go down very well with the children, I sense. Thank you.

Wyll who stayed the Blade of Frontiers and ended his pact with Mizora:

The Blade of Frontiers is back on the hunt. The Sword Coast is safe as ever.

Halsin: Many of the children have already heard of you, as it were - do you know some of them scarcely even believe this old bear could be acquainted with such a hero? But the authentic sense that your recollections bring to the tale shall win them over, no doubt. Thank you.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus and made an eternal pact with Mizora:

No hellbeast is safe from the Blade of Avernus and his infernal powers.

Halsin: Thank you, the children shall be agog. I do believe some of them use the number of beastly fangs and claws present in a tale as the yardstick for its quality - which puts yours right at the top of the heap.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus and but ended his pact with Mizora:

The Blade of Avernus is on the hunt. The Hells shudder at the very mention of his name.

Halsin: A classic tale. I expect it shall inspire more than a few of the children to start practising their ripostes with wooden sticks.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus, made an eternal pact with Mizora, and went to Avernus with Karlach:

The Blade of Avernus and his companion are on the hunt. No hellbeast is safe from his infernal powers.

Halsin: A formidable duo. I am glad that you and Karlach have each other - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Wyll who became the Blade of Avernus, did not make an eternal pact with Mizora, and went to Avernus with Karlach:

The Blade of Avernus and his companion are on the hunt. The Hells shudder at the very mention of his name.

Halsin: I am glad you and Karlach have an enduring friendship - it shall serve as a strong lesson for the children, as well as a stirring tale.

Astarion who didn't ascend, but defeated Cazador:

I've been revelling in my freedom, rediscovering the joys of the night.

Halsin: Sanguine joys, no doubt? Perhaps I shall smoothen out some of those details - the children do not need to know the full truth of your diet. But they shall be rapt all the same, thank you.

Astarion who didn't defeat Cazador:

Halsin, I've been hiding in sewers and eating rats. It's not a glorious tale.

Halsin: Ah, but the glory can be found in the telling. The children love tales of underdogs, facing odds most unlikely. They shall appreciate your story, trust me.

Astarion who didn't defeat Cazador and became a mindflayer:

Halsin, I've been hiding in sewers and eating rats' brains. It's not a glorious tale.

Halsin: Ah, but the glory can be found in the telling. The children love tales of underdogs, facing odds most unlikely. They shall appreciate your story, trust me.

Ascended Astarion:

My tales are a little heavy on murder and sex. But if the children want to hear them...

Halsin: Hmm. Perhaps I can substitute the bloodlust and... eh, general lust for cuddles and animals in the retelling. The children may be confused, but no matter - they will soon be asleep. Even with a few little white lies, rest assured that they shall be engrossed. Thank you.

Ascended Astarion who became a mindflayer:

My tales are a little heavy on murder, sex, and tentacles. But if the children want to hear them...

Karlach who went to Avernus alone:

Tell him of how you lost your horn.

Halsin: Truly? I never would have guessed that is what happened. And to think I believed I had the measure of you... but I am glad to be wrong - the children shall be captivated.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #karlach #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart #lae'zel #dark urge #the dark urge #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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yawarakaizai · 1 year

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ⵌ YOU MUST BE THE WATER I DRINK..

SENDER Reader (fem terms used) RECIPITENT Fyodor Dostoevsky (BSD) CONTENTS His cruel ways were all you ever knew of. His sudden vanishing tugs at the strings of the heart you swore to surrender for him. NOTE reader x canon, angst, death of husband, emotional abuse, reader is too infatuated with fyo to blame him COMPANY Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus

Three weeks have passed since you last saw Nikolai. Four weeks have passed since you received the news of your late husband.

Fyodor, who continued to 'haunt' you even after death. You dare not distance yourself from what he once treasured. Yourself.

It was difficult to come to terms with the fact your husband had died.

Furthermore, it was difficult to come to such conclusion after being informed that no remains had been found except for that torn arm Gogol did not give you. Perhaps knowing you'd come to hold it and cry out for him every waking hour. You reasoned Gogol knew you were hurting inside. Of course, your public demeanour never changed from what Fyodor left.

You were what remained of Fyodor's perfect wife. You owe it all to him for having made you into the perfect model of what a good spouse should be.

It did not take him that long to mould you into what you have become now. A dutiful wife there to tend to his every need.

You'd peek your head out from the kitchen hearing him come home from work, almost unsure whether today had been a good day or a bad day. His reaction to your persona of a clingy housewife being able to easily anger him if he had been frustrated that day.

Still, he was there to correct you. Fyodor was there to take your hand into his. You remember vividly how they'd feel against yours. Cold, frail and dangerous compared to your delicate, smooth hands. You knew what those hands of his were capable of doing. The countless men and women who met their demise with a single tap of his finger.

The undeniable fear that bubbled in the pit of your stomach was possibly what made you stay with him for so long. A mixture of both elation and trepidation that urged you to see how long this will go. How long will it be before he replaces you, if he should ever?

This game of knowing you'd never be enough for the man you married yet never daring disobey his every command, at his feet with every beck and call, the threat of an imminent demise delivered by the man you call your love was something you believed to be almost prophetic.

You weren't the girl you used to be.

You heard many remark. You knew so yourself. You had given yourself to your husband to change you as he pleased. Rid you of all things he disliked and fill you with traits he found desirable.

You were his Galatea, in essence. Fyodor wished for you to be subservient and deferential to none but him. ''Your tongue'', as he'd remark, ''will be the death of you''.

There was no doubt in your heart that Fyodor was one to seek out good looks. Even so, you know deep down he wouldn't have wed you if he thought you as 'ugly'.

Conveniently, you were everything he needed in terms of appearance. A beautiful wife by his side. It was all down to how you behaved. He wasted no time in fixing what needed tending.

Through it all, you not once saw what about his acts could be deemed as hurtful. In fact, you felt guilty for taking up so much of his time. What was it about you that made you not yet worthy of his committed love?

To you, Fyodor was perfect, and that meant you should be too.

Although you were sheltered in your shared home, you still made yourself familiar with a few of his colleagues. Nikolai Gogol being one of the few.

When Fyodor would be away for an exceptionally long time, Gogol would be to one to pop in (from nowhere) to keep you company. The jester's company was welcomed warmly by you. His loud and eccentric personality made you wonder how Fyodor got along with him.

Gogol would ensure your safety and well-being almost on the daily. You could never get bored of his presence, always having some trick to show you.

One particular night you spent with Nikolai, you'd been smiling and laughing so much that the corners of your mouth had begun to ache. That simple, human result had been long forgotten by you. You didn't know why it hurt to reminisce on it now.

The last day you seen your husband was him leaving the house earlier than usual. He hadn't even woken you with kisses as he usually would. He had snuck out of bed, in fact, sly as a fox to escape unnoticed.

When he saw you standing like a deer in the headlights on the stairs, your white mini night dress - the straps hanging low on your shoulders, your hair frizzed from a deep sleep and your hand balled up into a fist rubbing at your eye.

He gave your puffy lips a sorrowful gaze, despite the distance. Your pink lips curling into a pout seeing him leave. Something felt different.

" Up so early, princess? "

Fyodor's hand held on lightly to the knob, purple eyes dimly lit by the rising sun, the orange rays illuminating through curtains and invading through the open door.

" Where are you going? " Your voice soft and pitiful. It sounded like a plea for him to stay rather than a question. Fyodor bit back a laugh. At least, you remember him doing so. Your recollection of it was hazy.

" You'll wait for me, won't you? As always. " Avoiding your question, he turned his back to you, muttering a distinct 'I love you' before closing the door shut after him.

He knew you loved him back.

He didn't need to wait to hear it.

He died knowing you love him, even if you hadn't said it.

You'll die loving him, too.

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

#bungou stray dogs #fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #bsd #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bsd x you #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd angst

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jude5bellingham · 6 months

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Jude is sitting on the apex of a dune, leaning back, using his arms to support his weight, taking in the waves of sand created by the worms. Although he missed the sights of the rugged terrain and water that caladan offered, arrakis had its own unique charm, with the wind slowing down, the sand and spice being dragged in the air looking almost mist-like. You approach him silently from behind, but he starts before you can say anything.

"a messiah?" jude can only scoff and shake his head, the idea that he is a messiah is so ridiculous to him. He was hardly equipped to lead his house (when he was a duke-to-be), much less a population of religious fanatics who believed him to be their prophesied saviour.

Your eyes stay set on him, unblinking. You don't say anything, hoping that the silence will give him the time and ability to digest his fate. You hope that in the silence, that he will hear it.

"they can't be serious..." his gaze drops to the floor, suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation which he is in. Your gaze drops with his as you're unable to do anything other than nod, you're sure that he desires some form of comfort but you aren't able to provide him with it, not now, especially not now. he stands up, his back to you, staring at the horizon in front of him created by the varying dunes of sand.

"Tell me..." he starts, keeping his back to you, standing completely still, "do you believe, honestly, that I am the messiah? Your messiah?"

You take a step to stand next to him, huffing a breath out as you do, carefully sifting through the words running through your head to attempt to form a sentence light enough for him to hold onto for now, fearing that a heavier statement may only cause him to bend under its weight.

"I don't know..." you begin, Jude's head turning to look at you, "I think a messiah is just about hope, you know, something to believe in…"

His eyes watch as your chest rises and falls while you think carefully about your choice of words, treading lightly around the idea of him being a hero, prophet, and messiah. He juts his bottom lip out to urge you to continue your train of thought, he’s sure that whatever words you speak next will be far more intelligible than anything he has going on in his brain currently anyways.

"You've seen it Jude. The way people look at you, the looks that your presence commands…” You turn towards him as you speak, finally meeting his gaze, “You inspire hope and I think that’s more than enough.”

“Even if it's false?” he turns towards to look at the horizon again, his question leaves his lips as a quiet mumble, fearing any answer you could possibly give him to his question.

“Hope is never false.” you state, copying him and looking at the horizon, “Not to the believer.”

He can't help but chew on his bottom lip, thinking about it all. so ridiculous. all of it. Just a while ago he was the son of the Duke, now he is expected to lead the Fremen to freedom. How was he supposed to manage that?

hi this is a short part from my dune!jude au 😭 i havent proofread it but im about 3k words in but i wanted to see if i'd get any engagement!! thank you so much if you've read this far 🤍🤍 please let me know your thoughts

#not proofread #football fanfic #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot #football x reader #jb5 #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham scenarios #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine

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aloneinthehellfire · 5 months

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Chapter Six: Prophetic Girl

The Pariahs That Saved The World

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: canon-events (demobats), some fluffy bits in this one, vecna's curse, not proof-read

[A/N: Oh my goodness, the procrastinator has returned- Whew, thank you all for your patience! I finally found some time to finish the next chapter; I really didn't want to rush anything so just know this one was created with every ounce of love <3)

Prophetic Girl

You don’t know why you dived into the water with the others.

You weren’t a particularly strong swimmer, nor did you have a heroic nature urging you to help save a friend.

The look Robin gave you as her best friend was dragged under the water was probably the culprit, ripping open your heart with her absolute terror.

That was the scariest part of it all. The emotional discipline you had forced upon yourself over the past year could be shattered in seconds from just one look, reigniting a feeling you thought was lost forever. And god dammit, you would do anything to make sure that feeling never got away from you again.

“Steve!” Robin screams as you pull yourself out of the gate, wiping the water from your face.

The Upside Down. It wasn’t like you expected it to be. You know they had described it as a reflection of Hawkins, a darker universe than the one you resided in, yet part of you always assumed there’d be something strangely beautiful about this place. But you were here now, rushing to the others to help them fight off the local bats, looking around with nothing but disgust on your face.

Perhaps you couldn’t find the beauty in everything after all.

You barely reached the others before Eddie was shouting behind you. Duck? In the last second, you mange to crouch to the ground and avoid something with claws flying over your head, screeching into the dark sky. You blink. Was that a…

“Bats!” Eddie exasperates, grabbing an oar from the ground and charging full speed at the one swinging back for a second time.

It was a chaotic blur of stress and adrenaline, somehow batting away small razor sharp teeth and wrestling against their surprisingly slimy bodies. You had managed to pull one from Nancy’s back and drive your boot down on its head before Robin pulled you away from an attack, Eddie’s oar quick to slam it to the ground.

Steve was bitten pretty badly, the first thing you observed as he spat out the head of a bat, panting. You thought Eddie was about to explode from excitement, looking at you with wide eyes and suppressing a smile. How he managed to find joy even in hell, you would never know.

“You okay?” Robin’s hand shook as she places both hands on her best friend’s shoulders, worried eyes searching his. He lets out a breathy laugh and nods, her body practically depleting in relief.

“You’re sure?” Nancy prompts, and he examines himself closer, still nodding. “Took about a pound of flesh but, uh, other than that… never better.”

You let out a sigh and wipe your brow, watching as Robin crouches beside you to shine a light on a bat corpse.

“Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?” Robin questions, looking up at you with a frown.

“What?” Steve gapes, and you suck in your lips.

“It’s just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear.” She explains, standing back up, “And I think we should get you to a doctor really soon because once symptoms set in, it’s too late. You’re already dead.”

Both Steve and Nancy look at her in exasperation, their features clearly telling that they didn’t appreciate Robin’s spiralling input. You start to smirk.

“Or you’ll become a vampire.” You offer with a grin and he mockingly nods his head.

“We need to get you patched up.” Nancy states, looking dishevelled from the fight, looking around, “Maybe we can-”

The trail of thoughts were lost as you all watch another group of bats fly down to where the gate rested, tearing at it. You squint your eyes, focusing. What were they doing?

“Uh, guys?” Eddie interrupts, and you turn to see him staring at the sky, your eyes widening. “I think we need to get out of here.”

“Nah, there’s not that many, we can take ‘em.” Steve breathes out, wincing when you lightly tap him. But it draws everyone else’s focus up to the sight that had you and Eddie stood in fear.

As your eyes fixate on the litter of shapes between the warm clashes of red and blue, you quickly start to nod, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him into a run as you all silently agree to a fast escape.

“The trees!” You yell, pointing to your left and you all head for the treeline, ducking for cover just as the bats attempt to swoop down, blocked by the thick expanse of wood.

You all manage to huddle under the flipped version of Skull Rock, panting as the bats fly past with no prey in their sight.

“That… was more cardio than I paid for.” Robin gasps and you collapse against a rock, catching your breath.

Nancy was quick to start patching Steve up despite his polite objections. You even raised an impressed eyebrow when she rips off the hem of her shirt to substitute bandages with fabric, sharing a look of awe with Eddie.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Robin trying to calm Steve down in a way that would have you smiling. But Steve didn’t look to be in the smiling nature.

Calmly, you place a hand on her shoulder and gently guide her away, the girl giving you a smile.

Instead of berating her best friend with a million facts and questions that would probably stress him out, she took a seat on the ground opposite you, her smile noticeably less bright when Eddie plops directly beside you, groaning.

“So… anyone got a blunt?”

“Jesus Christ.” You groan with a smirk, eyeing him with amusement. “You seriously think now is a good time to be getting high?”

“I personally think this is the best time to get high.” He says with confidence, stretching out his legs.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, adoration in your voice that made Robin’s skin crawl.

“Ouch.” He mockingly holds his hand to his heart, “I wasn’t treated this way when you needed a smoke after you rear-ended Mrs Click’s car-”

“Shut up!” You hiss with laughter, gently shoving him away from you and he chuckles, shoving back.

As she watched the two of you tease one another with an ease that made her queasy, Robin’s brows furrowed. You were both much closer than she had hoped for.

“Why did you guys break up?”

The quiet laughter broke into silence, inquisitive eyes suddenly set on hers. She feels her ears burn, quickly swooping her hair forward to conceal them.

“Thank you for asking.” Eddie claps his hands like it was an interview and you roll your eyes, immediately easing the tension. “Well, you see, we were like, what? 15? 15. It was cute, very short, and we realised we were better friends. Right?”

“That’s about it.” You shrug, smiling. Your eyes land on hers with a lightness to them that made her heart swoon.

“So why did you even get together in the first place?” She frowns, face dropping when his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, god, that sounded meaner than it did in my head.”

“We hadn’t really tried the friend part yet.” You chuckle, and Eddie hums.

“Too blinded by our mutual hatred for King Steve and his merry band of idiots.”

“So you could say Steve brought us closer together.” You quip and Robin suppresses a laugh.

“One of you say my name?” Steve suddenly asks and you all fall into laughter, ignoring the boy’s curious frown.

After a while, Eddie shakes his head and jumps up to stalk over to a fallen tree trunk, inspecting it.

“He’s pretty cool.” Robin sighs, watching him step up onto the wood and survey the land like an explorer.

“Yeah.” You look over your shoulder with a smile, something like sadness flickering across your face for just a fleeting moment. If Robin didn’t find herself completely captivated with every movement you made, she would have missed it completely. Was it… regret? Did you regret the break up? Did you want him back-

“So, uh…” Eddie’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts as you all turn to where he stood at the tip of the tree trunk. “This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Pretty much.” Nancy responds, grunting a little as she attempts to shift some of Steve’s weight onto her. “Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hive mind.”

“It’s all a what?”

“All the creepy crawlies around here, dude. They’re like, one or something.” Steve tries to explain, wincing as he brushes his hand over the bandages.

“I repeat, it’s all a what?” Eddie frowns and you stand up, grimacing.

“Uh, step on a vine, you step on literally everything else at the same time and then, well, evil wizard comes to snap our bones.” You shrug, his mouth parted in shock as he nods slowly in recognition.

“Shit.” He simply says, starting his descent.

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people, obviously?” Robin appears beside you, her arm brushing against yours.

“As far as I understand it, yeah.” Nancy nods and you can practically hear the cogs turning in Robin’s mind, humming with excitement.

“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.” She suggests and you vigorously nod along to her idea, loving where her mind was at.

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin. But guns, yeah, sure.” Steve rolls his eyes and you hum.

“I don’t know, I definitely think Hopper would stash grenades somewhere.” You say and Nancy tilts her head in acknowledgement, silently agreeing.

“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns.” Nancy says and you raise your eyebrow. “I have guns. In my bedroom.”

“You,” Eddie jumps down with surprise, brows furrowed. “Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?”

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin grins.

Eddie doesn’t look convinced.

“Be a sceptic, but I watched her shoot at a demogorgon that was emerging from the ceiling.” You snort, crossing your arms. “And I gotta tell ya, Nancy owning guns is the least surprising thing in that sentence.”

“A Russian Makarov and a revolver.” Nancy confirms.

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve comments, getting closer.

Nancy starts to smile, turning her head to him. “You almost deserved it.”

They share a look and you twist your face. “Gag me with a spoon.”

“I got it.” Eddie says, slipping off his denim vest and launching it at Steve, the boy barely catching it before it hit his face. “For your modesty, dude.”

You almost laughed at his face until the ground violently shook beneath you, throwing you off balance and sending you crashing into Robin. She tried her best to catch you, but she was already falling to the ground, your body laying on top of her and you both squeezed your eyes shut until the earthquake stopped.

“What… the hell… was that?” You pant, turning your head to see Robin’s wide eyes staring back at you. For a second, you couldn’t peel your eyes away, closer than you ever would have imagined.

The moment was short-lived, a chorus of snarls and screeches echoing through the woods like an omen.

“Yeah, so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie gasps.

“Yeah me too.”

“Me three.”

You and Robin both reply as you peel away from eachother, avoiding eye contact like neither of you had any kind of self-restraint.

It was impossible not to notice a particular pair of eyes on you as your own stayed glued to the ground, unfamiliar with the Upside Down and its tricks. For anyone to be watched would be somewhat discomforting, but not in this particular instance. Because, for as long as you can remember now, anytime she’s looked away, your eyes have been returning the favour.

“Did you wanna say something?”

You finally break the silent streak occurring between you and Robin, her sheepish smile brightening her face once she realises she’s been caught.

“I, uh…” She fumbles around for an excuse, letting out a low whistle. “Was just making sure you’re okay. That’s all. Nothing weird.”

“Why do you keep asking me that?” You laugh, catching her eyes and she almost melts. “Do I not look okay?”

“You look amazing.” Robin shakes her head, blinking when she realises what she just said. “Uh, I didn’t mean that. Not that you don’t look amazing, you do, even after all of that. Not in a weird- what I meant to say was I don’t think you aren’t okay, I was just…”

She lets out a groan and you laugh again.

“I’ve just dragged you into this and I can’t help thinking it will be my fault if you aren’t okay.”

“Robin.” You carefully step over a vine, clearing your throat. “Before you showed up at my door, I was already deciding that I was going to help.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, shrugging. “The, uh, the first time Nancy asked me to help, I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wasn’t in the mood to try and save a town that I hated. It was… complicated.”

“What changed your mind?”

“My gran.” You smile, albeit sadly. “I suddenly realised that I’ve lost too many people here. Even if… even if I don’t belong here, the people living in this town don’t deserve to die. I can’t just leave when people I care about are in danger.”

“So my whole speech was just for nothing?”

“Not for nothing.” You shake your head, suddenly sending her a smirk. “It was very entertaining.”

“Shut up.” Robin giggles, nudging your arm playfully.

As she does, her joy momentarily distracts her from her own very important mission: do not trip.

It almost cost her, glancing down at the last second to come to a screeching halt, the toes of her boots a fraction away from brushing the side of a vine. Her sudden stop itself threw her off balance, and she felt herself falling back.

Until your hands reached out and caught hers, pulling her closer to you before she fell victim to gravity completely.

“Thanks.” She says breathlessly, and you can only nod, looking down to where your fingers interlocked hers.

Clearing your throat, you take your hands back and offer a smile, ignoring the sickly sweet feeling of your heartbeat drumming a little faster than it had been before your hands found someone’s to hold.

“Gotta be careful.” You whisper, returning your eyes to the path and moving towards Nancy’s silhouette up ahead. Robin stood there for a moment longer, biting her lip.

She was just torturing herself now. Either she said something, prayed for some kind of miracle, or she moved on. There was no point living in this romance limbo when there were more important things to worry about.

Her feet were tired by the time you reach the Wheeler house, shifting in her shoes as Steve takes the flashlight from her and clicks it on, the door creaking beneath his push.

The interior reflected its exterior, dark and covered head to toe with vines that made her grimace at the sight.

“Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.” Robin jokes, almost jumping when she hears you shut the door.

“Sorry.” You mouth, walking into the space. “Wow. Love the décor.”

“Come on,” Nancy tilts her head to the staircase, “I don’t want to stay here longer than we have to.”

She starts bounding up the steps, and Robin gives you a shrug before she and Eddie start to follow up, your own footsteps behind Steve’s. Except, for some reason, he stops.

“Hello?” You crane your neck around to where he’s shining the flashlight at nothing. “Earth to Steve?”

“Shhh.” He whispers, holding a finger to his lips. You frown. “I hear something.”

“Oh god.” Your shoulders slump. “You’re not hallucinating, are you? Because I can’t be the one to tell Robin the rabies got you.”

“Just… shut up.” He says, slipping past you and moving to the corner. “It’s him.”

Any sarcastic quips you had rattling around your brain were pushed away, fear flooding your body. “Vecna?”

“What? No, no.” He shakes his head, holding his finger in the air. “Henderson.”

“Hend-” You stop, tilting your head. “You can hear Dustin?”

“Just…” He sighs and waltz over to you, placing a hand on your back and moving you to where he was previously stood.

“Oh, hey, Y/n, come over here.” You mumble as you shrug his hand off of you. “What am I-”

“Just listen.” He says and you sigh, shutting your mouth and entertaining the idea.

For a moment, nothing.

And then the voice whispers around you, muffled, and most definitely Dustin’s.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out and Steve nods furiously. “Holy shit.”

“Dustin!” He starts to shout and you join him, the both of you shouting around the space. “Dustin!”

Once they hear your yelling, the other three are running down the stairs, Robin’s heart beating fast, assuming that the minute she left you had been attacked and there would be no way to-

“What the…” Eddie mutters and she widens her eyes in disbelief.

“Dustin! Hello?!”

The two of you are yelling at the walls and ceilings, making her blink.

“Maybe he really does have rabies.” She comments and Eddie frowns.

“Is it contagious?” He asks and she tilts her head, still fixated on the shouting frenzy.

“Only if he bit her.”

“Hello?” Dustin?!”

“Guys, what are you doing?” Nancy interrupts your next cry for the young boy and you turn to them, breathing heavy.

“We heard Dustin.” You breathlessly explain and Steve nods behind you, still shouting.

“He's here. Henderson. That little shit, he's here. He's like... He's in the walls or something. Just listen.” Steve grins at them before walking away, continuing his call. “Dustin!”

“Uh…” You stare as he spins around in a circle. “He might look crazy, but I promise he’s right. Listen.”

You watch the realisation fall over their faces, making you smile.

They fan out, calling out his name and following in Steve’s lead, trying to communicate with the boy on the other side.

As you go to join them, you catch something out of the corner of your eye, reflecting on the glass of the window. You can still hear Dustin’s voice droning in and out, like a radio that hadn’t been sent to the right frequency. But it didn’t sound the same as before. Something was different.

Your refection was blurry, making you squint. Goosebumps started to trail across your skin, making you shiver. It wasn’t your reflection.

Robin was the only to see how you blinked into a state of paralysis, immediately calling out for help as she rushes over to you.

It seemed like Vecna had something else to say.

Chapter Seven: We Are The Pariahs

taglist: @kryztalglear . @learninglinesintherainn . @officerrrfriendly . @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean . @spacedoutdaydreamer . @endurexxsurvive . @em16cor . @gray-cheese . @chaosofmanyfandoms . @kitdjarin1 . @some-day--some-how . @cultish-corner . @marirxse .

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #stranger things reader insert #robin buckley x you #robin x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #st4 fanfic #st4 #wlw #sapphic fic #wlw fanfic

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p3achysuki · 7 months

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A/N: hello! This will be my first Baldur’s gate 3 writing and I’m a huge Gortash simp so obviously I needed to write something for Gortash and dark urge.

summary: before the tadpoles you were Bhaal’s favorite child, you worshipped him the way he wished his sired children did. You offered him lords, ladies even champions. Yet Bhaal would feel you slip away from his grasps because of a certain tyrant proposing you an alliance.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, angst.

Til death do us part

The first time you killed someone you didn’t have much memories about it, you remembered your dominant hand feeling sore and the warmth on your skin and the smell, most people would find it disgusting yet you found it.. comforting.

When you came back to your senses you felt the bile your stomach turn into knots, “m’lady” you heard a voice behind you say and when you turned around you saw sceleritas for the first time. You desperately tried to explain to him it wasn’t you who did it, but he laughed it off “of course it was you m’lady! Such fine work you did of them, father would be very proud of you.”

After that Sceleritas said he would lead you back home, to your real family every night you thought about that day. It wasn’t until your father fueled the urge for you to kill that you would forget about the people you murdered, the more killings you did for your father the less you started to think about them your victims.

Worshippers at the temple praised you for your work even while you weren’t the main speaker for your father yet, so many people named you the prophet who would set the world on fire for Bhaal. You didn’t realize that your kin was envious of this, Orin thought all of your sacrifices to Bhaal was a disgrace. She deserved every bit of praises that the cultist would shower you in, she’s the only one who’s a pure blood of Bhaal not you.

Orin knew about the plan you had in mind, using the chosen of Bane and Myrkul to gain control of Baldur’s gate to sacrifice all the lives that the mind flyers would take control of. You were an embarrassment to father, no spawn of Bhaal ever needed an alliance with other gods. She desperately wanted to push her knife deep in your skull to show you a lesson, but she knew father wouldn’t allow it. Father only has his eyes on you, he’s favorite child, his prophet.

The first time Orin accompanied you to moonrise towers, she saw the way the tyrant’s eyes never left you, she saw the way his eyes would scan over your figure a smirk resting on his lips when your eyes would meet his. Afterwards when you were meant to go home with her back to Baldur’s gate you would tell her you had something to do, she already knew you were spending time with that little lordling.

She tried getting information out of Ketheric, but he would always deny it. Why did they favor you so much?! You tried hiding the affection you had for Gortash, the first night you spent with him you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Yet when Gortash runs his thumb against your lower lip calling you his favorite assassin, you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Gortash wasn’t quiet about his admiration for you, even in front of Ketheric he would wrap his arm around your waist “what does my favorite assassin say hm?”

Ketheric either didn’t care about the relationship you two developed or personally wasn’t against it, he would just sigh rubbing his temple before explaining more about his plan.

After a month an unexpected event happened, you haven’t had your period for a full moon cycle. You thought it was the stress from having to commit fear among the streets of Baldur’s gate until later a cleric confirmed it for you, “our lord will be delighted at this news m’lady” no he wouldn’t, he would lash against you for letting it happen, for letting the tyrant seduce you so easily.

Orin overheard what happened and thought father would finally see the truth that you were not deserving of his blessing, but instead he allowed it “while I did not command you to procreate, any offspring you produce will have my blood running in their veins I will make them of use in the future to come” Orin was livid at this, she showed her frustration to her own butler cutting and slicing him every time he would come back.

You told Gortash about the pregnancy, for the first time you were actually worried what he was going to say to you. Instead he pulls you in his arms pressing his forehead against yours, “I’m surprised your father didn’t lash against you for this” he was worried for you, so every night he tried convincing you to stay with him. He knew Orin despised you, anytime he would get near you he would see the way her eyes glared daggers into you. It was only a matter of time before she would break away from her leash and kill you, and he was worried he wouldn’t be there to protect you or his child.

As the months passed by Gortash saw that you struggled to put on your armorer as your belly started to show more, he suggested you wear something more comfortable but you scoffed and denied him each time “what kind of chosen do I look like if I’m wearing something frail?” He rolled his eyes, hells if he thought you were stubborn before you’re even more stubborn now.

Yet nobody disrespected you even while you were carrying his babe, even Ketheric would assign guards to be with you “I’m not worried about you, this child could be a successor for all of us in the future” Gortash saw through his lies though it was obvious he was worried for you, he still remembers when Ketheric sent him a letter and a gift about a metal contraption he found at moonrise.

As your due date was approaching closer you kept traveling to moonrise towers without him, he would get angry telling you that it wasn’t safe to travel “my father demands me of seeing everything at moonrise towers Gortash I can’t just disobey him”

He knew you weren’t wrong, “and what about the babe? will you keep them safe?”

“With my life Gortash, if they’re meant to be a successor for my father then I will not let anyone harm them”

Gortash regretted that day not going with you, but his lord demanded he stay behind at Baldur’s gate to attend a few party gatherings.

“I’ll be safe Gortash Orin will be with me.”

He should’ve told you that he didn’t trust Orin with you, that he would see the hate in her eyes growing each day, each passing month.

A meeting was called for Ketheric and him, and when they arrived they expected to see you and not Orin grinning in pride. “From this fourth I will be the speaker for Bhaal’s temple” Gortash felt Ketheric’s eyes drift over to him almost to see what reaction he had of this, but Gortash couldn’t speak he felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think about what to say.

“Orin-“

“What is it lordling” she grinned again, she knew she was getting under his skin.

“The babe-“

“At Bhaal’s temple lordling, he’s not yours to keep” with that Orin left leaving only a red dust behind.

Ketheric could see Gortash digging his nails into his palms, “we must continue our plan” was all Ketheric said before leaving Gortash to be alone in his thoughts.

You both had a baby boy, but you two would never get to see him now.

(Not sure if I want to make this into a mini series or not, but I hope you guys enjoyed!)

#bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 writing #gortash x durge #gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x durge #bg3 angst #enver Gortash angst #tw: pregnancy #tw: murder #gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver Gortash x you

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inkyvendingmachine · 8 months

Text

Moving Pieces Season 4, Episode 2

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

The boys are going through a normal one.

Can you tell I recently played Betrayal for the first time,

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

Joey wakes up to Sammy bursting into his office and demanding an explanation of why he didn’t come home last night. Bendy happily lets Sammy know that Joey tried to do a dream spell, which just sets him off more. They go back and forth some, Joey confirming that yes, he did that, but he was just trying to see what the general feel of Y was right now… and he doesn’t seem to be like Moonlight had been before. It seems like he’s just… doing his thing, discussing possible options with some dream-version of his sister, and not that he’s specifically scheming or anything.

While they’re doing their usual arguing dance, Sammy is suddenly interrupted by Prophet… urging him not to submit to the call of the yellow king. This is when they both notice that Sammy had actually been going for the ink faucet in Joey's office???

Joey takes this opportunity to turn the argument around on Sammy, asking if Prophet isn’t going for the ink, then why is he being called towards it? IS THE INK GOING BAD?? DID SOMEONE MESS WITH IT AGAIN!?!??

Bendy clarifies that the ink isn’t tainted, but it does seem to be resonating with something nearby… and that Sammy is sensitive to it. Sammy calls Prophet out to confirm this, as well as confirming it’s def yellow king stuff, before fading again. With that as solved as it could be, Sammy heads to Music to catch Jack up on these developments, while Joey goes and info dumps all the same info on Henry. During this he kinda talks himself thru realizing that maybe Y’s sister is not as dead as they expected… since they don’t really know what sorts of immortal properties come from making yourself an ink body.

Joey goes back to his office and gets in contact with Peter to make sure he’s still alive, gives him a command to check in at the end of day and immediately hangs up as Peter is trying to complete a response. Sammy and Jack try to find Norman to get him up to speed, but find he's called out for the day. And of course, he gave some outlandish excuse, so nobody really knows why he’s staying home. Joey calls Norman and, surprisingly, he actually picks up?? Norman admits part of the reason he’s staying home is because he’s noticed some weird shit is happening again. Joey gives him an update, which is cut off by him asking, “So when’s the trip to New Orleans? That’s where it started, right?”

That’s… a good point.

Joey hangs up on Norman and calls Grace Fowler. He plays off the reasoning as wanting to thank her for the holiday gift, and catch up with her daughter Estelle, who’s also interested in catching up with him.

Especially because between an odd dream Estelle had, where her father showed up and told her to both be careful and stay away from New York, and that night of yellow mist, she thinks Joey’s calling because there’s something weird happening. Joey confirms this, he’s not gonna lie to a child that he likes, and manages to learn from her that a strange man had also been asking her about odd happenings recently. Joey asks if he looks like how he remembers Avedon, and Estelle is extremely impressed that he’s exactly right.

So maybe this is why Norman is waiting at home for a call…

Joey promises to send her a present and tells her to keep up the good detective work, along with reinforcing not to worry her mother and stay safe and all that stuff. (the present is going to be a very good quality notebook that he gets Henry’s help to doodle Bendys and Friends on the page margins throughout it, and an engraved pen to go with it.)

Their strongest lead, at least as far as Sammy's concerned, is that weird performance of Sammy's old improv last night -- so with half a day of work done, Jack, Sammy and Susie head out to one of the clubs they remember some of that band from the charity event tends to frequent. They manage to easily get in, being recognized from their speakeasy days and Jack and Susie being their usual charming, talkative selves. People probably tried to talk to Sammy too, but he’s just interested in chatting with the Jumps after their set. Until then, they get to grab some drinks, sit back and actually enjoy the music for a while. It’s actually… kind of nice? No terrible haunted songs being played, no ink spread throughout the city gnawing in the back of Sammy’s head, no gun fire.

When they do get to talk with the band after the show, it’s immediately apparent that the clarinetist from the charity event is not there. That’s… interesting, since Prophet’s prophecy mentioned a “black wood” and Jack has noted that could be slang for a clarinet instead of a forest… Jack does remember some of these fine folks though, and starts off the conversation, only for Sammy to interject during a lull and ask where they got the music from the other night.

Everyone laughs and agrees that Sammy is still Sammy - A whole hecking gunshot weird cultist nonsense goes down and Sam’s here asking about where they sourced their music. Well, to answer that question, yes it came from a guest they were playing with that night, and yes it was the guy playing a mean reed. His name is Alan Leroy, and they’ve got a lot of nice things to say about him that can also be taken in an extremely concerning way, like how he can make sounds come out of his instrument they’ve never heard before.

Yay! That’s exactly the kind of descriptions of musicians we love to hear about!!!

Jack manages to get the information for where Alan lives, along with some of his friends. Sammy is content with this and attempts to head to the door (in entirely the wrong direction) while Jack winds down the conversation… finding out that also they haven’t been able to contact Al since the other night. He’s probably at home??? But he seemed so shaken up by that guy yelling nonsense at him…

Jack and Susie catch up to Sammy to lead him to the right door, but when Sammy opens it, it… IS the right door? Susie thinks so at least, but it seems odd to Jack, who thinks that they definitely entered through a different door, and Sammy isn’t sure what to think. Things like this haven't been reliable for him for an exceedingly long time, and he can't tell if this door is any different. Something might really be wrong if Prophet’s navigational skills are working with him and not against him…………

But outside, everything seems chill. Normal… Susie even thinks this is the same door, but Jack is very sure they were not on this block earlier. And when he turns to head back to the car, he notices a certain unmoving, pale face in a different car passing down the road. And it’s looking right at him.

Joey and Henry do a tour to check in with people after work, starting with Peter. He’s gotten in contact with his old paper and confirms the weird mist was down in NOLA. He also talked with the police and got confirmation that the shot was fired by some gangster named Johnny Nero, and some places they could look into to find out more about him.

Oh and also there was this weird guy. Peter saw him across the street during lunch, unnaturally pale, dark suit… but he didn’t get to see much more before he just up and vanished. Just a wee bit odd fella, that’s all.

Neither Joey nor Henry are feeling good about this info.

Maybe it’s time to install the buddy system again.

Joey also ends up just calling Norman instead of stopping by, from Peter’s phone of course, and updating him on what’s been going on, as well as asking him if HE knows what’s Avedon up to. Norman says he hasn’t been able to get ahold of him, but it’s good to know he’s out and about.

The other three meet up with them at Peter’s place late that night and updates are had all around. We keep splitting up so you’re gonna hear that sentence a lot this season I feel. This is what happens when our DM has given us multiple NPCs we enjoy so we keep forcing her to take them along with us. c:

Anyways, between all these comparisons, Joey is starting to think that maybe their previous experiences in Carcosa-like situations in NOLA is perhaps giving them a different view of events than say, Susie, who’s very sure that the door they left out of was the same they went in. With this information in hand and a pretty good inkling that apparently things are moving around and there’s a weird pale guy following them, the boys decide they want to go and try to talk with that Alan guy tonight.

Arriving at a pretty nice house in a pretty nice neighborhood, the boys all shuffle out of their new fancy red Mercedes to go wake Mr. Leroy up in the middle of the night. Instead they get his… butler? Who is not too happy about our middle of the night bothering. After some standard Joeying Up, he admits that Alan hasn’t been home for a few days, but also that’s not unusual. He can give us some information of friends Al usually stays with and stuff, and Joey hands over a number to be called if he returns home soon. (A number for a second phone line he got installed over the last year. It goes directly to his office and is listed under an alias, specifically for situations like this where maybe he doesn’t want to lead every gangster and cultist back to JDS right away.)

While Joey is doing his Joey thing, the others start hearing a lady around the side of the house chatting excitedly. Perhaps in a conversation with a beloved? But it seems to be just one side of it… like, WEIRDLY seems to be just one side of a conversation.

The group heads out from the house, around the corner and finds… the car isn’t there. However, there is another Mercedes up the street. Almost the same exact car, just parked somewhere different and now a stunning new colour!

It’s brown.

(well i guess they were out of blue ones.)

After closer inspection, they confirm that it is indeed their car. This is just a wee bit disorienting, and while four boys puzzle over this, Henry tiredly notices that apparently a lady has wandered up to him in the meanwhile. She takes his arm and starts talking about how she’s looking forward to when he gets his own ship, and when they sail away to spend their life together.

Henry just mumbles back “I’m married..?”

Jack and Sammy recognize her as the lady they heard earlier. Joey feels like he’s on the edge of remembering something about her, but none of them actually know who she is so. Uh.

TIME TO LEAVE.

Everyone awkwardly shuffles into the car, since it seems about as safe as anything else around them now, and drive off as the lady continues to monologue and wave Henry into the distance.

Joey asks Jack to drive directly away from the water, and watches the car as they move out of the mist.

It’s still brown.

(also Joey is still taking the middle seat as he usually does, he’s just leaning over Sammy to stare out the window.)

While they could head out to the other addresses in the middle of the night, it’s starting to feel not very safe to be split up and looking for clues with these sorts of changes happening. They pull over and Henry makes a phone call to Linda, telling her he’s not heading home tonight since it feels like eldritch nonsense may or may not be following them, and they’re gonna stay in the studio tonight. He also sees… a familiar pale face in a black suit… reflected in the glass of the phone booth… but of course, when he turns, it’s gone. The group makes their way to Norman’s, wanting to check on him and Susie in case they’re actually getting Carcosa’d.

When they get there though, Norman and Susie seem to be perfectly fine, and don’t understand why Joey is insisting on them looking at the car. It seems to Norman a very odd midnight activity, to have him look at their new paint job.

Susie’s confused. Paint job? It’s always been brown.

Welp. That seems to confirm the suspicions. Whatever’s going on, it seems only those who touched Carcosa in some way have been able to tell that things are different. Anyone else is seeing these changes as if that reality had been true from the start. Susie isn’t pleased about being kicked out of the Oddly Affected Club (or the Oddly Unaffected Club?), but it is nice to have someone they can get reality checks from. Joey states they’re gonna go back to the studio for the night, but Norman declines the invitation. He’s still waiting for a call.

Alrighty, good luck with that.

The group gets back to the studio and starts pulling some cots out of storage, Jack sits down with Lurks and chats some, while Joey goes and starts to prepare a dream spell. When Henry questions him on this, he talks about wanting to try and reach out to Fowler?? Like… up until now, they had been running with the idea that Fowler wasn’t able to be communicated with at all. But if he reached out to his family through their dreams… then maybe Joey can reach out to him in his?

Henry offers to help, because he’s actually had dreams and communication with Fowler in the past, and they both have a sort of understanding with each other. Joey can’t deny that it’d probably work better than him trying on his own, so he sets up the spell for Henry.

And Henry finds himself in a very misty dream. There’s really nothing to see, except three lit corridors going off in different directions… Henry calls out to Fowler, and sort of hears someone in the distance call back? So instead of walking into any of the lit areas, he follows the voice into the fog, and calls out once again, letting Fowler know it’s Henry…

And suddenly, from all around, a very loud booming voice shakes Henry to the core, telling him to get his family out of New York, before it’s too late.

Henry sits up from Joey’s lap and immediately goes for the phone, saying he’s sorry, he didn’t get much information but he needs to call Linda. Telling Joey what he heard as he dials, a freshly awoken Linda gets an exceedingly serious sounding Henry telling her to get the kids packed up and get out of New York ASAP. of course, her first question is about whether or not he’s coming too.

“No.”

“How do you know you’re going to be safe then?”

“I’m not.”

JOEY SNATCHES THE PHONE FROM HENRY,

and gives her an actual explanation of the situation. Something’s following them, tied to Henry, they’re trying to get it untied from them but the longer Linda and the kids stay in New York the more likely they might also get wrapped up in it which will be worse for everyone, Henry included. He’s not doing any dumb sacrificial bullshit, and Joey promises he will do everything in his power to keep Henry safe.

She knows he wouldn’t let anything happen to Henry if he could prevent it.

With that all actually said, Joey hands Henry the phone back, and he’s able to apologize for being dramatic instead of informative. With a soft I love you exchange, Henry hangs up.

And he goes and gives Joey a hug.

[Next Episode] (not yet released)

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #henry stein #jack fain #sammy lawrence #peter sunstram #norman polk #susie campbell #the prophet #they're all here in the text also yes i promise i am going easier on the thumbnails this time round #look it's not fully fully coloured

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marauders-bs · 2 months

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an inherently sad thing about pandalily

word count- 802

The first time Pandora Rosier realized she might have had an abnormal upbringing, she was eleven and serving detention for Professor McGonagall. She'd asked a question, followed immediately by not fighting just asking. After all, it was common in her house. Wouldn't want her parents to think she was being combative. McGonagall had looked at her a bit sideways, though. Like it was strange.

The second time, she'd been twelve and helping Lily Evans with her Astronomy in the dead of night. She’d said something about the time she'd painted the stars on her ceiling and her dad had painted over it. It was one of her “funnys” as Evan called them– just something stupid that made all the Skittles laugh. Lily, however, had been horrified.

The time it had really hit, Pandora had been fourteen. She’d been double DADA with the Gryffindors when the Unforgivables had been brought up.

“Can't you use Cruciates for, like, punishment?” Sirius Black had asked.

“I think you can, mate, that's what Dad always says,” Barty had agreed.

Pandora had nodded along with them. “Imperio as well, for punishment.”

Their professor – and most of the other students – had looked like Lily atop the Astronomy tower two years before. “No,” he’d said gently. “Never, under any circumstances, are those curses forgiven.”

Pandora had exchanged a look with Barty, both remembering the scars across their bodies. Maybe, Pandora thought, her parents had done something wrong.

When she was fifteen, on top of the Astronomy tower with Lily, Cassie, Marls, Andy, and Mary. Ali and Ciss left only a little bit before.

“Dora?” Lily asked, turning down to face Pandora. She wasn't too happy that the silence had been disrupted, but Lily was still running her fingers through Pandora’s hair.

“What's up, Lils?”

“I think you should stay with me over Christmas,” she said, not taking her hand from Pandora’s hair or her eyes from the stars. “I don’t want you going back to them.”

Pandora raised her eyes to Lily, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of ginger hair behind her ear. “I don't want to endanger you.”

Andy, who was finally seventeen and would be free of the Blacks imminently, cleared her throat. “I can help, if you want. Make the place Unplottable, or whatever.”

Lily looked down at Pandora, and she felt the weight of the love the people sitting on the Astronomy tower had for her

“Yeah,” Dora decided. “Yeah, Lils.”

At seventeen, Dora had to leave. She broke off from the Rosiers and went to live with her best friend and probably the one she'd end up marrying if only to piss off Evan– a Ravenclaw her age named Xenophilius.

Lily showed up at their door in August of ‘78, wedding ring sparkling on her finger in the moonlight.

“I’ll see you,” Dora told her, giving her a cup of tea and a kiss to take with her.

“I’ll see you,” Lils agreed, running a hand through her hair.

In 1980, Lily Potter disappeared with her husband, James, never to be seen alive again.

Dora was nearly mad with worry, the urge to begin blowing things up again almost unbearable.

But Dora promised Lils that she would keep herself out of trouble, and she had to do that. Especially once the letter came.

Dear Pandora,

I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Sirius. This letter will burn once you have read it, so my news – and likely the Potters’ lives – is safe with you.

Lily and James are still alive. Lily made me promise to write to you, I don't know why.

Please do not reply. They – and you, I hope – will be safe and hidden until the war is over.

Yours truly,

Sirius Black

And, quite suddenly, Dora had a reason to live again.

Twenty-year-old Dora sits in her sitting room with Xeno, baby Luna napping on the coffee table. An owl flies in through the window, open to let in the cold November air.

This time, however, the owl carries not a letter from a good friend of Lily’s, but a Daily Prophet containing a list of the dead, those in jail, and those still missing.

This time, the paper identifies Andromeda Tonks and Alice Longbottom as still missing, as well as their husbands.

This time, it claims that Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr are Death Eaters, in addition to Sirius Black, the very boy who wrote to tell her Lils was safe.

This time, Evan Rosier, Regulus Black, Dorcas Meadows, Marlene McKinnon, James Potter, Peter Petegrew, and Lily Evans are on a list of the dead.

And that is what finally undoes all the healing Lily helped along. Pandora puts down the Prophet and heads upstairs. She wants nothing more than to blow something up.

#marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #fuck jkr #regulus black #sirius black #evan rosier #james potter #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #pandora rosier #pandalily #pandora lovegood #xenophilius lovegood #lily evans #marauders microfic

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 7 months

Text

Mechanic chapter 13

Note: follow up to chapter 12.

Warnings: same as previous chapters.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f) x modern!Masema

summary: Masema took you to church while you stayed in touch with Sihtric.

wordcount: 4,3k

Masterlist

You'd been going to church with Masema for a few weeks now, although you couldn't really call the building a church. It was an abandoned farm on the outskirts of town and it looked like it could collapse any second. One stormy night and you were sure the farm would be gone the morning after. The inside of the church didn't look great either, but at least there was electricity and a bit of warmth by candles. Dirty looking blankets covered the concrete floors you sat upon while you listened to Masema with the other church goers. Masema was apparently some self-proclaimed prophet, whatever that may mean, and at first you thought he was absolutely batshit crazy by the way he was preaching about the end of the world. Masema said the end of times was approaching and he promised that those who followed him would die with honour and march into Heaven like warriors of the Light, and a good afterlife would be waiting. Masema had a way of being very convincing, and he convinced you to keep coming to the church even when you weren't so sure yourself. He'd persuade you by kissing you and telling you how important your presence was. And so you kept going, and after a few church sessions you started to think that there might be some truth in his words. You weren't sure about the end of the world, but you started to believe that following Masema might mean you did something for the greater good eventually.

You had also kept in touch with Sihtric, texting him every day to let him know you were doing okay. And you couldn't lie, you missed your mechanic a lot. Masema gave you that thrill of being alive, because he had only eyes for you when he took you for a ride on his motorcycle. But you began to see that in the church he seemed to have eyes for all the other ladies present too, who all believed they were special to him. It made you insecure, but Masema had a power over you that you couldn't seem to defeat, and you even entertained the idea of marrying Masema when he asked if you wanted to be one of his wives.

You didn't know that Sihtric was still keeping track of you through your phone. You had never deleted the app he had installed, and Sihtric also never deleted it off his own phone. He had fought the urge to use the app at first, but he just couldn't help himself and often checked where you were, just to get some peace of mind. But that peace he longed for was nowhere to be found once he began to notice you spent a lot of time in some near deserted area in the the weekends, late at night. Once again Sihtric had fought another urge, but he still loved you and wanted you to be safe. He just had to know what you were doing out there, so one evening he rode to your location and found the abandoned farm after he'd passed a bunch of large cornfields. When he saw lights burning inside the farm from a distance, as he approached the building, he shut down his motor engine and got off his bike. He carefully walked towards the farm, quietly pushing his brand new bike through the mud and puddles, cursing internally that it would be a pain to clean his bike after this. Once he was close enough he parked his bike and spied by peeking through one of the cracked windows. Sihtric was appalled when he saw Masema standing on an improvised platform, spewing words of damnation and God and the end of the world. And then Sihtric found you sitting on the floor, amongst Masema's other followers, looking up at him and listening carefully like he was some sort of… prophet. Sihtric slowly began to understand that Masema probably stalked people, mainly women, and simply persuaded them to join him to whatever this place was, but what exactly Masema was preaching about was beyond him as it made no sense at all.

Sihtric paced back and forth outside the farm, contemplating his next move. He could simply ram the door and run in, punching Masema in the face and picking you up in his arms to take you home. But you looked rather comfortable, Sihtric thought, and there were too many people. It would be at least thirty to one if Sihtric would pick a fight. Sihtric saw some men too and, even though they didn't look very intimidating, he knew getting into a fight now was a bad idea as he only just healed from the wounds he had gained during the crash. He then decided to push his motorcycle away from the farm and hide it behind a few trees further up the dirt road. Sihtric then walked back, his leather boots collecting more dirt and mud, and he waited behind one of the smaller abandoned buildings across the farm, until people began to leave the wreckage of a building you were inside of. Sihtric waited and waited, and then he finally saw you. You left the farm alone and you walked up to a seemingly random car. Sihtric then snuck up behind you and covered your mouth as he circled his arm around your waist, preventing you from screaming, and he pulled you with him behind the farm, hidden away in the shadows.

'It's me,' Sihtric said quickly when you tried to fight his grip, 'I'm not here to scare you, I'm sorry I had to get you like this.'

You stared at him with big eyes, taking in his appearance. His half shaved hair was a little messy from the helmet he had been wearing, and he was dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans. Sihtric then slowly removed his hand when you understood who had just grabbed you.

'What the fuck!' you hissed and punched his chest, 'what the fuck are you doing! Why are you here-'

'What is this place?' Sihtric cut you off and cornered you, 'and Masema?' he scoffed, 'you're really out here with your stalker? What the fuck does he want from you?'

'This is a church!' you snarled, quietly, not wanting to alarm anyone.

'A church?' Sihtric frowned and looked up at the building that looked like it came straight from Hell, 'I didn't know you were religious.'

'I'm not… at least not really,' you mumbled, 'Masema asked me-'

'When did… why-' Sihtric stammered, 'how the fuck did you get in contact with this guy? You do know the cops are looking for him, right?'

'I walked into him after our fight at the repair shop,' you confessed, 'he's not… he never tried to hurt me, Siht. He took me on a few dates and-'

'Dates?' Sihtric almost shouted, then lowered his voice again, 'you're dating that psycho?!'

'No! I mean… I… I… we kissed, yes, but that's it. We never did anything else.'

'You kissed?' he scoffed, 'so… what about us?'

'We're on a break,' you mumbled, knowing you were the one who screwed up.

'On a break my ass,' Sihtric shook his head, 'we are not Ross and Rachel, sweetheart. You said you needed some space, which I gave you, and now I find out you've been happily seeing that freak of a guy!'

'It's not like that! We're not dating, we're not exclusive or whatever, we're not even together! He has like five wives or something and asked me to be his wife too!'

'What?!'

'The others,' you cocked your head towards the barn, 'all the ladies are like… like… his wives or girlfriends, whatever.'

'Oh, great,' Sihtric scoffed and then threw his hands up, 'so you're part of a cult now.'

'What? No, Sihtric-'

'This is exactly what this guy does then, stalking women and sweet talking them to join his cult. Fucking ridiculous,' Sihtric huffed and kicked at the sand, 'you're a perfect example of stockholm syndrom, lady.'

'No, I…,' you sighed, 'I'm here out of free will.'

'You're not,' Sihtric argued, 'but you can't even think straight anymore. You know, whatever, I don't want to hear about this anymore. I just want to know where this leaves us then. Because if you decide you want to be a sister wife then I can't stop you. I've tried everything to protect you from this maniac but it seems I pushed you right into his web. So I guess that's on me then. So what about us, princess, what about you and me?'

Sihtric stared at you, his mismatched eyes and scarred face illuminated in the silver light of the moon, and he had never looked more handsome, you thought, it left you breathless for a moment.

'I don't know,' you whispered after a long silence and sniffled, 'but I know I miss you.'

Sihtric's stern look softened and he exhaled sharply, regretting for going off at you like that.

'I miss you too,' he whispered and fought his tears, 'a lot.'

'I'm not… I don't think I'm in love with Masema,' you said, 'because I still love you, I really do. I can't forget you,' you lightly touched his hand, 'but… something keeps pulling me here.'

'You need to leave this guy,' Sihtric urged and took your hand, 'I'm serious, you have to leave this place and that freak. Come with me, I'll take you home, please,' he pleaded, 'just come home with me, we can leave right now.'

'I can't,' you whispered and pulled your hand away, 'I can't just leave. These people are like… depending on me to be here. I… I have to go, I'm sorry.'

'Hey,' Sihtric called after you when you turned to walk away, 'just… promise to stay in touch.'

'I will. I always will.'

'And be safe,' Sihtric looked at you with big, pleading eyes that broke your heart, 'I- I love you.'

'I know,' you smiled weakly, 'and I love you too.'

Sihtric felt hopeless when he watched you walk to the car and unlocked it to take out a large bag, and then walked away around the corner, disappearing back into the farm again. He left on his bike with a heavy heart, knowing he was leaving you behind with a psychopath. But he didn't stand a chance against him right now. And you both didn't know that Masema had gone through your phone already days ago, finding the texts between you and Sihtric and finding out you still had photos of Sihtric on your phone, and you both didn't know that Masema had heard you talk outside the farm.

The uneasy feeling never left Sihtric in the days after he had confronted you at the farm. It had unsettled him so greatly that he decided to go back one afternoon to check out the place in daylight, and it was even more haunting during the day than it had been at night. The huge cornfields surrounding the farm were even larger than they had seemed in the dark, completely secluding the building from the outside world. Sihtric wanted to call the cops to warn them about Masema's whereabouts, but when he peeked through the cracked window again he saw the place simply looked abandoned and there wasn't a trace to find of the sermons Masema held there. He only saw the large bag you had taken out of the random car and it looked like it was stuffed with the blankets that had been on the floor, making it look like a homeless person lived there and nothing more. Sihtric was torn, because also knew that if he'd alarm the cops you would know it had been him, and he was afraid he'd completely lose you if he did, and you were also there out of "free will", so what could he possibly tell the cops? All he could do was wait for you to come back to your senses and keep track of you through the app.

You kept going to church in the weeks after your encounter with Sihtric. You had shrugged off the mechanic's concerns at first, but when Masema began to teach you and his followers how to use guns and make improvised hand grenades, because Masema was afraid that the non-believers would want to harm his church and his people, you slowly began feel and realise that Sihtric had been right. This indeed was a cult, and Masema was the cult leader, preaching how everyone who is against his word should be either converted or killed, and his followers blindly believed him and felt he was right.

You slowly began to snap out of the state you were in, and every time you saw Masema preach you realised how deranged he was and everyone who believed him. Msema himself truly believed he was a prophet and he had everyone who followed him under his power. And the men, you later understood, who were part of his following were actually the husbands of the ladies Masema had taken as his wives. The husbands were so blinded by Masema's charm and the convincing power of his words that they had just let their wives share a bed with their leader and let them marry him. And you started to see that this was not something you wanted to be a part of, at all. You began to feign your interest in Masema and his cult, pretending to be a good member and a potential new wife to him, but after a few more preaching sessions you knew you had to get out of there, especially because the training of how to work with weapons and his intentions to seriously harm people intensified every week.

One night, after you had attended yet another sermon where Masema raged on and on about how he was spreading the word of God of how everyone but his followers was doomed, you secretly texted Sihtric while Masema drove you home, as you were absolutely frightened.

You: hey, are you home?

Sihtric: at work x

You: this late?

Sihtric: I couldn't sleep… why?

You: can I see you? I need to see you…

'Who are you writing?' Masema asked sweetly, but a threatening tone lingered after he had caught you texting.

'Oh, just a friend,' you lied, 'maybe, eh, I found someone who wants to come to the church too next week.'

'Really?' Masema glanced at you and placed his hand on your knee as he drove his car, 'that would be great,' he said and squeezed your knee, a little too hard to be flirty.

'So,' Masema continued, 'have you heard from your ex?'

'What? Oh, no,' you said, nervously, 'no, he's out of my life.'

'Is he?' he squeezed your knee again, harder this time, and it was painful.

'Yes,' you chuckled anxiously and tried to pull away from his grip, to no avail, 'why are you asking?'

'Just making sure you're all mine. I'm not the type who shares.'

'But,' you chuckled, 'your wives-'

'Are my wives,' Masema said curtly, 'I do not share them with their husbands. They are my wives. And you will be my wife too. And if you try to leave,' he chuckled to make it come off as a joke, 'I'll find you.'

You feigned a smile and nodded, then looked out the window and tried to keep your cool as the drive continued. Once you were home you reluctantly kissed Masema good night and you closed the front door behind you. You waited until he drove off in his car and then you took out your phone again.

Sihtric: of course. Do I need to pick you up?

You: no, it's fine, I have a new car now

Sihtric: you know you don't have to wreck it again to see me, right? ;)

You: I know ;)

You smiled at your phone and told Sihtric you'd be at the repair shop shortly. But your emotions took over before you could even start your car. Your new car. The stupid brand new car that Masema had bought for you. You were overwhelmed with a sudden fear when you felt your knee hurt. The bruise Masema left was clearly visible once you rolled up your jeans to check your knee, and you wanted to get to the mechanic as fast as possible.

—-

You found Sihtric at the repair shop in the middle of the night, fixing up his new motorcycle after dirt had gotten stuck in all the wrong places because of his visits to the farm. His overall was dirty but his face was remarkably clean, because he had cleaned himself up as best as he could when you told him you were on your way, and he had fixed up the curls on the one side of his head. Sihtric looked tired, but the dark circles around his eyes and his pale face didn't make him any less handsome, and he listened carefully while leaning back against his bike when you told him everything that had happened after the last time you had seen him, and you showed him the bruise on your knee.

'He what?!' Sihtric raised his voice, 'do you even hear yourself? Can't you see he is brainwashing you! He's literally hurting you!' he threw the dirty rag he had cleaned his bike with onto the floor, 'that guy is abusing you!' he snarled with wild and fury filled eyes, 'and you're letting him!'

You froze at his sudden anger and you shut down. Sihtric stared at you, realising he frightened you with his outburst, and he felt his heart break inside his chest when your lower lip trembled as your eyes welled up.

'I- I'm sorry,' Sihtric said, 'I'm sorry, come here,' he whispered and pulled you in his arms, your face pressed against his chest, into his dirty work overall, 'I'm sorry I snapped. You have to understand that I'm not mad at you, I promise. I'm just mad at this entire situation and that piece of shit you keep seeing, who is clearly not good for you.'

'He won't let me leave him,' you said with a sob, 'Masema… he said he'll find me. He didn't specify what he meant with that and he said it almost sweetly, but-'

'That is just what he does,' Sihtric said as he held you in his arms, 'he wraps his followers around his finger and if they try to leave he'll wrap them even tighter, suffocating them. And I just handed him the rope to tie you with by becoming obsessed with your safety and pushing you away, right into his arms. And I'm sorry, princess, I'm so sorry.'

'I'm sorry too. I'm sorry we fought, I never meant to explode like that but I felt trapped and I panicked. But now I'm really trapped.'

'I know,' Sihtric hushed you, 'I'm not mad, sweetheart. I could never be mad at you. I just… I've been trying to understand why Masema? Why did you fall for him? You knew he was bad news.'

'Because he… Masema made me feel alive again,' you sniffled, 'like the way you used to make me feel alive before the accident,' you pulled slightly away and looked up at him with tear stained cheeks, 'you changed, Sihtric, after that crash.'

'I almost died,' Sihtric murmured as he pulled you back in again, 'and you almost died because I crashed. Of course I changed, darling,' he said and began to cry, 'you don't understand what it did to me.'

'Then talk to me,' you sobbed.

'I'm just terrified to lose you,' he whispered, 'I'm terrified you'll get hurt again and taken away from me. And that is why I became so overprotective.'

'I understand that, I do,' you sniffled, 'but you can't trap me like that. You built this… this fort around me, to protect me, but in reality you trapped me. I understand it was never your intention to make me feel trapped, but you did, and it changed me too. I started to long for excitement. I wanted to feel alive again and feel the thrill of being alive after that accident, while you trapped me in a boring life. It changed me and it changed you. It changed us, Sihtric. I miss the sweet boy who was disguised as a bad boy when we met. I miss that flirty and slightly cocky mechanic who made me feel so alive when he kissed me endlessly on my driveway at night, and who took me on exhilarating bike rides. I miss him, Sihtric. I miss you, the guy I fell in love with.'

Sihtric looked down into your eyes and wiped the tears off his face, then took a deep breath.

'The guy you fell in love with died that night,' he said in a broken whisper.

'Did he?' you looked up at him with hopeful eyes, 'because sometimes I get glimpses of him. I've gotten glimpses of him after the crash, before you pushed me away. And even after that, when you found me at the church… that thrilling and adventurous part of you, it's still there,' you poked his chest, 'I know it's still in there.'

Sihtric swallowed hard and shrugged lightly.

'Maybe, little lady,' he said, 'but maybe he's afraid he'll get you hurt again.'

'You don't get to live your life without getting hurt in one way or another. And I would choose to get hurt every day if it meant I could have that slightly cocky and cheeky part of you back again,' you chuckled through your tears.

'Is that really why you went with Masema?' Sihtric asked after a moment, 'because he made you feel alive? Because he was dangerous?'

You nodded and wiped a tear off your cheek.

'I needed that thrill to feel alive, and it felt like you couldn't give it to me anymore.'

'Only because I have your best interest and want you to be safe. You had to safely heal.'

'I know… but I… I need some kind of excitement in a relationship.'

'What kind of excitement?' Sihtric furrowed his brow, 'you want me to be a cult leader?'

'No,' you snorted, and Sihtric smiled, 'not like that.'

'Like what then?' he asked and took your hand, pulling you to sit on his lap as he sat down on the chair next to his messy work desk, which had all kinds of tools piled up on each other.

'I don't know… just… something,' you sighed, 'I don't want a boring and safe relationship. I mean I want a safe relationship, but not a standard one. I need a… a thrill of sorts. You kept me on my toes at first, you know? All the teasing you did. Even in the hospital, you were always so cheeky but then after everything with Masema became known, you know…'

'Who said I want a boring relationship?' Sihtric frowned, 'you never really gave me a shot. We were both healing and recovering from the crash, of course our relationship was different. We had a lot to deal with, there was no time to be cheeky when a psycho suddenly forced his way into our lives. I don't want a boring relationship, trust me, I don't like that either.'

'What do you like then?'

Sihtric chuckled and shook his head lightly, then looked at you with a soft smile and he bit down on his lip.

'I'm a dom, princess,' he explained with the hint of his cheeky smile, 'a soft dom.'

'Oh,' you breathed and your eyes widened, then you smiled, 'but… you're too sweet to be a dom?'

'Don't be fooled by the soft part,' Sihtric smiled slyly, 'I don't want boring either, trust me. Listen,' he sighed softly and buried his face in your neck for a moment, 'I'm sorry I pushed you away and that I installed that app without telling you.'

'I'm sorry for my behaviour too,' you said and cupped his cheeks, 'I don't know what I was thinking. How I could be so foolish to listen to him and push you away.'

'You weren't thinking. Masema had you wrapped around his finger like he does to everyone he has his mind set on. It's not your fault.'

'I'm scared,' you suddenly whispered, 'he… he's not going to let me leave like this. He'll come looking for me when I don't show up at church-'

'I know, baby,' Sihtric hushed you and pecked your cheek, 'but you're here, with me. You're safe now and we'll figure it out.'

'I'm sorry I fucked up.'

'We both did.'

'I'm sorry,' you said again.

'I'm sorry too.'

'I… I love you,' you whispered and slowly moved your fingers through his dark curls.

'I know,' Sihtric smiled sweetly, 'and I love you too.'

'I only want you… I really do.'

'And I only want you,' he said and took your chin gently, 'you're my girl.'

You nodded shyly. 'Yours only, I promise.'

'Good,' Sihtric smiled, 'because I'm yours only too. And with that I should confess,' he cleared his throat, 'that tracking app still works.'

'I know,' you smiled, 'I never deleted it. I wasn't aware of it anymore at first, but when you found me at the church I later understood the only way you knew I was there was because of that app. And because Masema started to frighten me lately I kept the app, and I hoped that maybe you would check it sometimes.'

'You knew I would check it, little lady.'

'I knew.'

You both smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but you were stopped when a sudden clattering sound startled you both. And when you both looked into the direction the sound had come from, you saw the shadowy figure of a man standing in the door of the repair shop.

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lulublack90 · 7 days

Text

Prompt 18 - Floo

@wolfstarmicrofic September 18, word count 571

Previous part First Wolfstar part

“What if I go ask father? He might be able to set something up,” Sirius chimed in the argument Remus and Regulus were having about how to lure Voldemort out into the open so they could plan their attack.

“It can’t hurt,” Remus allowed. “He’s been an asset so far.”

“No,” Regulus glowered. “He can’t be trusted, especially not with something as important as this.”

“You’re just sore because he never made you the heir,” Sirius scoffed. “Right, who votes I go see Orion?” He looked around their gathered group, all of them put their hands in the air apart from Regulus.

“Traitor,” Regulus glowered at James.

“Rorbey!” Sirius called, and a little pop alerted them to the elf’s arrival.

“Yes, Master Sirius,” The elf said, bowing.

“Is my father alone in the house?” He asked. Rorbey shook his head, his ears flapping slightly.

“No, Sir. Mistress is there,” Rorbey replied.

“Could you come back and get me when he’s alone?” Sirius asked. Rorbey nodded yes. “Great, thank you, Rorbey,” And the little elf vanished. “Well, that’s that then,” He grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Well, let’s hope, Father is more concerned about you than the Dark Lord,” Regulus scowled at Sirius and left the meeting, dragging his traitorous boyfriend behind him.

It wasn’t long before Rorbey was back and apparating Sirius into the main drawing room, where Orion sat reading the Prophet.

“Sirius!” He gasped, jumping to his feet and hugging his son tightly. “When you didn’t come after Rorbey had told you it was safe, I thought you wouldn’t come back,” Sirius could see the sadness in his father's eyes, and he tried to ignore it.

“I’m sorry, I would have if I could, but there wasn’t the opportunity to get away,” His explanation softened the blow some but withheld the vital information that he couldn’t share.

“Barty Crouch has changed his tune,” Orion changed the subject. “He seems less inclined to go out on the muggle hunts the others like to organise. He seems almost as though he doesn’t want to be a death eater any more,” Orion looked pointedly at his son.

“Wow, who’d have thought it,” He said, taking a leaf out of Regulus’s book and forcing his face into an unpenetrable mask. Orion sighed.

“Don’t shutter your face like that. You used to do that when you were trying to hide things from your Mother. I won’t ask anything, don’t worry, just don’t look at me with that blank face,” Orion's face fell as he pleaded with Sirius. Sirius let it crack a bit, and Orion’s smile returned. “There’s my handsome son. Now, why are you here?”

“We need to know how to get Voldemort away from his followers and out in the open,” He told his father. Orion blinked at him in shock.

“I’m not sure about that, son. Let me look into it, and I’ll send Rorbey to you with anything I come up with.”

“Rorbey, come here. Orion, where are you?” Walburga’s shrill voice broke the silence. Orion and Sirius jumped in their seats, Orion reacting first.

“Quick, use the floo,” Orion urged him, pushing him towards the fireplace and summoning the pouch of green floo powder. It took him a precious second to figure out where to go, but once he decided, he stepped into the fire, tossing the powder as he went and calling out the address of Peter’s flat.

Next part

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writing-intheundercroft · 8 months

Text

Tried and True - O. Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x M!MC

Word Count: 4,460

Rating: T

Summary: Days after the events in the Scriptorium, Ominis can tell something is up with the new fifth year.

A/N: Back from my one shot drought! @darch7995 sent me a prompt for Ominis x M!MC, listen to the audio here. Inspired by the Boygenius song True Blue. This is also my first stab at writing a male mc!

“I don’t want to learn the curse, but I can handle the pain. Cast the cruciatus curse on me.”

Ominis shut his eyes tightly, hands balling up into fists as he listened to Sebastian and their new friend pace in front of the blasted entryway. He felt the bile rising in his throat as he thought about their situation–stuck in a hallway, with only the worst torture known to wizardkind as the solution. Either Ominis would have to defy everything he ever believed in, his own personal principles to cast the cruciatus curse on one of his friends, or become a pile of bones on the floor like his Aunt Noctua.

Ominis dry heaved at the thought of his sweet, loving aunt’s body nearby. He’d doubled over, gasping with his hands on his knees as he listened to the boys formulate their plan. He wanted to scream when their new friend offered to take the cruciatus curse, to claw at Sebastian for even suggesting it.

“I shan’t forget this,” Sebastian said, his voice a touch too relieved to not have to take the brunt of the pain.

Ominis kept his eyes shut, trying to think of happier things as he heard Sebastian cry out the curse. It sounded like their new friend had been struck by electricity, his grunts and groans frazzled and choked. Ominis raised his wand; he could sense him on the floor, lurched forward in pain on his knees while Sebastian ran through the now clear doorway like an excitable crup puppy.

“Are you alright?” Ominis squeaked out.

“The pain was excruciating, but I’ll manage,” he gasped, voice throaty and distressed.

“Take a wiggenweld,” Ominis urged. “Please,” he said, fumbling in his pockets for a vial. He could hear Sebastian gasping with delight a few feet ahead, like a child in a candy shop. He was exalting all the old textbooks and artifacts in Slytherin’s secret office.

“You guys!” Sebastian yelled out. “Hurry up!”

“I’ll be fine, Ominis.” he said, a bit steadier now.

“Are you sure–”

“That’s enough.” the boy shuddered. “Come, Ominis. Let’s go.”

On shaky, unsure feet, Ominis followed.

“Do you have the answers to the astronomy homework?” Sebastian asked absentmindedly, flicking through the Daily Prophet at the breakfast table.

Ominis could hear their friend slurping his coffee. “Did you not study?”

Sebastian snorted. “I was busy studying other more important things.”

Things had returned to normal…well, as normal as they could be. Ominis would never forget the events that led up to their discovery of the scriptorium, and things had been quite terse with Sebastian in the dormitory. Their new friend insisted on keeping the peace, brokering somewhat of a truce between the friends.

“That book is not schoolwork, Sebastian.” Ominis scolded him, pouring out more tea.

“Don’t baby him, Ominis.” Their new friend argued, reaching across to grab at something. With the heavy, hot teapot in hand, Ominis worried he might burn him.

“Be careful,” Ominis warned, pushing his hand out of the way.

He jolted, pulling his hand from underneath Ominis’s rather quickly. Ominis wouldn’t normally have noticed, except he’d heard the quick strangled gasp his new friend made upon their contact.

“What’s wrong?” Ominis narrowed his unseeing eyes.

“Nothing.” the boy said hastily. “Nothing at all.”

“Say, what’s that on your arm?” Sebastian asked, his tone shifting to curiosity. “Did you get a tattoo?”

Ominis could hear their friend slapping Sebastian’s hands away. Sebastian yelped in return.

“What is that on your wrist?” Sebastian demanded once more.

“It’s nothing,” their friend insisted. Ominis could hear him tugging on his robes. “Honestly Sebastian, you’re so annoying.” He shoved away from the table, quick footsteps making their way out of the Great Hall.

“Dunno what his problem is,” Sebastian grumbled, moving back to his breakfast. “Say, do you have the answers to the astronomy homework?”

Ominis clenched his jaw. “Of course I don’t, Sebastian. I’m not in astronomy–it's a bit difficult to chart the stars if you can’t see them.” he fumbled with the handle of his wand. “Do you think something is wrong with him?”

“With who?”

“With him,” Ominis clarified. “Who else?”

Ominis could feel the bench move as Sebastian shuffled in his seat. “He has been rather odd lately. Just yesterday, he was being weird in beasts class with Poppy–she nudged him with her elbow and I nearly thought he would yell at her for it.” Sebastian took a bite of his food, ruminating further on their friend. “Oh, and I heard Everett say he asked Kogawa if he could sit out flying lessons for the week.”

“That’s not like him.” Ominis frowned. “He loves flying.”

“I know,” Sebastian said matter-of-factly. “I thought it was weird too, but when I asked, he said he just felt like sitting in the grass for a bit, enjoying the weather while he still could. I can’t say I blame him, it’s rather comfy out there next to the summoner’s court field…” he trailed off, going back to his chatter on astronomy lessons.

Ominis ignored him, chewing on his bottom lip. He has an idea of what might be afflicting their friend, but it seemed intrusive to ask. He, being blind, had never seen the marks the cruciatus curse left behind, but he could remember the pain, and the way that it had lingered for days. He felt goosebumps rising on the back of his neck as he recalled his own experience. He’d laid in bed, frozen for days after his older sister had carelessly cast the cruciatus curse on him.

“I’m going to check on him,” Ominis said, abruptly pushing away from the table. He could hear Sebastian calling out for him, telling him to come back to the table, but he couldn’t.

Not if his new friend was suffering the way he once had.

Finding him was going to be a challenge, that was certain. Forsaking his classes, Ominis meandered through the castle, wand glowing red as he tried with little success to locate the boy. The greenhouses were empty, save for a few first years trying to steal some Chinese chomping cabbages; their favorite spot in the library was empty. The Undercroft was silent.

There was no way he’d be in bed, Ominis thought. He’d just been complaining the other day about the lack of privacy, lamenting over Hogwarts’s shared dormitories. He preferred to keep himself busy, only ever falling into bed late at night.

“Where the bloody hell is he,” Ominis muttered. He turned the corner by the Charms classroom, eyes widening as a body crashed into him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Ominis.” Amit Thakkar gasped.

“No worries, Amit.” Ominis grunted, adjusting his robes. “My fault entirely.”

“I do get so engrossed in my star charts,” the Ravenclaw boy said. “I was just telling…” he trailed off, saying the boy’s name.

“You’ve seen him?” Ominis asked, ears perked.

“Yes, I have.” Amit shared. “He was just on his way up the stairs to the astronomy tower.”

Ominis took off, apologizing to Amit over his shoulder as he charged towards the staircase. He really did think it was crass to run in the hallways; he always rolled his eyes when the younger students did so. He couldn’t understand the urgency behind running. He much preferred a gentle, slow pace, which worked much better with his echolocation spells.

Yet Ominis ran. He took the stairs, two at a time sometimes, wand bobbing in his hand as he made his way up the stairs. His eyebrows furrowed; his echolocation spell seemed fuzzier and fainter. He could only sense his own feet hitting the wooden steps, which made running into a solid body at the top of the stairs an even bigger shock.

“Ominis!” his friend shrieked. He grabbed him at the shoulders to keep the blind boy from flailing backwards and tumbling down the spiral steps. “What on earth–”

“I was looking for you,” Ominis said breathily, gasping for air.

“Why?”

“I need to know if it hurts.” Ominis said sternly. He held his wand up; now still, he could sense his friend standing in front of him. The boy’s heart was pattering, pulse thumping under Ominis’s interrogation.

“If what hurts?” His friend asked, feigning innocence.

“I can tell you’re lying to me,” Ominis crossed his arms. “Your heartbeat quickened just now. I want to know if it still hurts from when Sebastian cast–”

His friend shushed him; there were footsteps coming up the stairs behind them. “Come on, follow me. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but we shouldn’t talk about this out in the open.”

“But where?” Ominis asked, tilting his head as the boy tugged on his robe sleeve. “There’s no room on this floor.”

“There is,” his friend said quietly. He pulled Ominis to the center of the floor; he could hear the footsteps, the giggling from the stairs. It was likely some third years, heading up to an astronomy tutoring session.

After a few seconds, Ominis heard stones shifting. He raised his wand; something was materializing on the wall in front of them. Without a second thought, his new friend pulled him towards it–a door–and shoved him inside. Ominis stumbled down a few steps before finding purchase against some bookshelves. Twirling his wand by the handle, he descended into a large room.

It couldn’t possibly be right–he’d walked the castle hundreds of times in his years at Hogwarts, and he’d never heard of a room in this part of the castle. Especially not one this large–from what he could identify with his wand, the room stretched out to two other chambers. Even more perturbing, he thought he could hear the neigh from a unicorn coming from nearby.

“Where the hell are we?” Ominis gasped.

His friend laughed. “A bit tough to explain. Come on,” he said, hand ghosting over Ominis’s back to push him further into the room. “This is the Room of Requirement. Professor Weasley showed it to me so I could study uninterrupted.”

“By Sebastian,” Ominis offered.

“One might say,” his friend chuckled, his breath catching towards the end of his laugh.

“There it is again,” Ominis accused. “You’re wheezing. You’ve been wheezing ever since we found the Scriptorium.”

“So?” he scoffed. “The castle is dusty.”

“You won’t fly,” Ominis began pacing back and forth. “And you love flying. It’s too painful sitting on a broom right now, isn’t it?”

“What if I just wanted to skip flying class?”

“It’s not like you,” Ominis noted. “You won’t let anyone touch you either. I heard you snipped at Poppy in beasts class.”

His friend shuffled uncomfortably. “I am sorry about that. I owe her an apology. But why are you bringing it up now?”

Ominis stomped his foot, a bit like a petulant child. “Like I said, you’re not being yourself, and I’ve noticed. You won’t let anyone touch you, you’ve been shivering all week, you sound like you’re in pain half the time. Tell me the truth–does it hurt?”

He heard the boy take in a sharp breath. “The cruciatus curse, you mean?”

“Yes,” Ominis barked. “I know what it’s like. When my sister cast it on me, I crawled into my bed and stayed there for days. I know what that pain is like, and I’m certain it’s why you’re not being yourself lately.”

His new friend was silent for a moment, eventually clearing his throat. “Did you know about the marks?”

Ominis furrowed his brow. “The marks?”

“There are marks all over my body.” His friend said slowly. Ominis could hear his robes fall to the ground, him unbuttoning his cuff to roll up his sleeves. “Like electricity–certainly feels that way whenever the wind brushes me the wrong way.” he shuddered.

Ominis took a step towards him, gingerly taking hold of his friend’s limp wrist.

“Does it hurt badly?” he asked, hand ghosting over the boy’s arm. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel the outline of the marks trailing up his forearm. They resembled veins of lightning–likely what Sebastian had seen at the breakfast table before he’d tugged his cuffs down.

He let out a low, steady hiss of breath through his nose as Ominis’s slender fingers touched the pain points. “I’ll be fine,” he swore. “I’ve seen worse. They were much darker right after we left the scriptorium, but now they’re getting lighter. Bet they'll be gone by next week.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Ominis said sharply. “Does it hurt? Still?”

He let out a loud sigh. “It does, okay? It hurts, it’s hurt every day since we found the damn scriptorium, and I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d throttle Sebastian. Things are hard enough as it is for him, you know he’s struggling right now to help Anne–”

Ominis let go of his friend’s wrist. “Is that why you let Sebastian cast it on you?” his voice trembled. “Because you care about him?”

“Ominis, wait,” his friend whined, now grabbing his hand in return. He could hear his friend’s sharp inhale. “It wasn’t just for Sebastian. It was for you.”

“For me?” Ominis asked incredulously.

“I know how you feel about the spell, Ominis. You think I haven’t listened to you? I could never learn the spell that caused you so much pain.” he said shakily. “We had no choice–either Sebastian had to cast it on me, or we’d die in there.”

Ominis pursed his lips. “You care that much?” he tilted his head, realizing just how blunt his question had been.

“I care.” he swallowed thickly, thumb running over Ominis’s knuckles. “I care a great deal, you see.” he confessed, his voice sounding watery. “I didn’t want you to worry over me, and that’s why I didn’t tell you how badly it hurts.”

“Come,” Ominis sighed, tilting his head towards the corner. He’d sensed a large armchair by the fireplace; with a featherlight touch, Ominis pushed his friend’s lower back towards the chair. “Take a seat.”

The boy curiously sat as Ominis flitted around the room. “You keep a potion stand around here, I assume?”

“Yes, center of the room.” his friend advised. “What are you doing?”

Ominis stood in front of the cauldron, familiarizing himself with the table and all of his friend’s supplies. “Making a brew Noctua used to make for me,” he said, unbothered, pulling an integral ingredient out of his cloak pocket. “Now, where do you keep your mallowsweet?”

“Drawer on the left,” the boy said, slumping into the chair. “I can’t believe you’re willingly making a potion. Sharp would be floored right now,” he snorted.

Ominis felt his cheeks burn. “There’s that sense of humor,” he deflected. “Already getting back to your normal self.”

“If I’m being honest, it’s good to talk about the pain, get it out.” He breathed. “Been hell keeping it a secret all week.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me just because you thought I’d be tough on Sebastian,” Ominis rolled his eyes, grinding the mallowsweet as the station came to life, bubbling slowly. “I’m always tough on him.”

“I know you are,” he laughed, trailing off into a cough. “But I know you love him. He’s like a brother to you, and I’ve already mucked with your friendship so much…”

“Don’t say that.” Ominis bit his lower lip, letting the now powdered leaves fall into the pot. “Your presence is greatly appreciated, I hope you know that. It’s already hard to remember what Hogwarts was like before you.”

“I’m touched, Ominis.” his friend said; even with his back turned, wand set on the desk, Ominis knew he was smiling. “I should’ve known you could tell–you’re the most perceptive out of all of us.”

Ominis picked up his wand again, observing the brew. “Can you tell me what color this is?” he asked.

The boy stood, padding over to Ominis. He was slightly shorter than Ominis; he’d reached up to put a hand on Ominis’s shoulder. “Dark brown,” he observed the bubbling beverage, sniffing over the cauldron. “What is it?”

Ominis smiled, conjuring two cups. “Aunt Noctua’s renewing hot chocolate.”

The boy snorted. “You made me hot chocolate?”

“Oh, don’t laugh. It has mallowsweet in it, which will relax your muscles.” Ominis pointed out as he ladeled the concoction into a cup. “Dittany, for healing purposes. A pinch of powdered mandrake root as well to help with the pain.” He handed the cup to his friend, ladling one for himself as well. “All of that, plus an entire chocolate bar from Honeydukes.”

“Let’s go back down by the fire,” He suggested. Ominis followed him dutifully; instead of the armchair, he settled onto the plush carpet. “Sit next to me.”

Ominis awkwardly folded to the ground, his knees knocking into the boy’s. “I’m sorry,” he blushed, lifting his cup again. “Cheers.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their hot chocolates.

“I feel better already,” his friend confessed. “Is this the only known remedy for the Cruciatus curse?”

Ominis snorted. “A remedy for all, we used to call it–I just remember Aunt Noctua making me this drink whenever my siblings cursed me.” he shut his unseeing eyes, shaking a little at the memories. “She always said a hot chocolate brewed with care and a few healing herbs could do the trick.” His smile faltered as he thought of Noctua, her bones still in the passageway.

“I am sorry, Ominis.” his friend said quietly.

“For what?” Ominis asked, sipping his drink.

“For everything,” he confessed. “For pushing Sebastian, for Noctua, for lying to you about the pain. I just don’t want you to worry about me.” The boy sighed, stretching out a leg. His foot knocked into Ominis’s. “You’ve been through enough as it is, and I’m just sorry to add more for you to worry about.”

“I worry about the people I love,” Ominis reminded him. “You’ve never done me wrong before–well, besides last week, but we can blame that on Sebastian.”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” his friend mused. “He’s got a one track mind, that one. He’ll do anything to save Anne.”

“I would too,” Ominis grunted. “But I draw the line at unforgivable curses.” he started drumming his fingers against the edge of the cup. “I’m not a violent person by any means, but hearing you in pain…Merlin, Sebastian is lucky to still have both kneecaps.”

He laughed; Ominis flushed as he laid his head against his shoulder. “I admire that about you, Ominis. Your love is tough, tried, and true.”

“I hope I’m not too tough,” Ominis slowly tilted his head, letting it fall against the top of his companion’s head.

“Never,” he murmured. “You care enough about me that you noticed I was hurting. You know me. I know it hasn’t been long, Ominis, but I’ve…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I’ve made friends here at Hogwarts, but none as caring and kind as you.”

Friends, Ominis cringed. He was sure his face was crimson by now, setting his half-empty cup on the floor. “I’m sure that’s not true.” he stuttered, wringing his hands together. “There are plenty of nice people–”

“No one like you,” the boy echoed. “You could have anything you want in the world if you truly wanted it, with all your family connections. But you choose to be better than them, to rise above it all. I admire that about you; how strong you are.”

“I’ve never been called strong before in my life,” Ominis admitted.

“Well, you are.” his friend assured him. “It takes a great deal of strength to stand up to your folks. That, and your friends–you always do seem to set Sebastian on the right path.”

“You’ve picked up quite a bit about me,” Ominis observed, relishing the way he leaned his weight against him. “Nice to know there’s more to me than my devilish good looks.” He joked.

“You’re more than just a pretty face. Like I said, I care a great deal about you.” he murmured.

“The way you care about Sebastian?” Ominis asked. His voice was higher than he would’ve liked, stomach twisting in knots as he contemplated the weight of his question.

After a moment of silence, Ominis heard his companion set down his cup. “No, I don’t think.” his lips were closer to Ominis’s ear now. “Different. More.”

“I was hoping so.” Ominis said breathlessly, turning to press a kiss against the top of his head. He hadn’t realized the boy had moved his face, tilting it up towards him; he found his lips pressed against the corner of his mouth.

Drawing back slightly, his companion chuckled. “Try again?”

Ominis smiled softly, letting him lean upwards this time. His lips pressed lightly against Ominis’s, the sweet taste of chocolate and the tang of mallowsweet still lingering on his mouth. Ominis lamented the absence of his mouth the moment he drew back, holding back a shaky whine. He was immediately assuaged by the feeling of him leaning against him again, this time more heavily.

There would be time, Ominis thought, when he wasn’t in pain. Time where he could hold him, touch his hand without worrying about the aftershocks of the curse. More time for them to be alone, to explore their feelings and the newness of his touch. To discuss what this meant for the future…

Ominis decided to not let his mind wander off too far, choosing to slouch into the boy beneath him again. This time, he did not protest the contact; his hand snaked towards Ominis’s, fingers tangling together.

“Still hurts?” Ominis whispered.

“Was better after you kissed me,” he said, voice muffled by Ominis’s shirt.

Ominis bit his lower lip. “Well, a remedy is a remedy.” he joked, shifting his body to face him. Without his wand, Ominis could only go off the stuttered, uneven breaths of his companion. He slid his free hand up his neck, stopping when his fingers met his chin. Leaning forward, his companion closed the distance, lips gently crushing against his.

Ominis felt his heart fluttering. The kiss was gentle; he could no longer tell if the boy was trembling from the lingering side effects of the cruciatus curse, or from the way Ominis’s tongue slid against his lower lip. Ominis leaned forward, cradling the back of his neck as they laid against the carpet, cups of hot chocolate spilled against the plush rug beneath them. The pair fell onto their sides, legs tangled, slightly panting as they finally separated. Ominis rested his forehead against his, their noses brushing.

“Sorry about the rug.” Ominis murmured. “Feeling better now?”

“Getting better by the second,” he whispered back. “I always do when I’m with you.”

Ominis let out one of his rare, toothy grins. “We should stay here until you feel fully well.”

“We could be here a while,” he mused, tugging Ominis closer. He held the front of Ominis’s sweater in a tight fist, thumb running over the soft cashmere. “If you don’t mind.”

“Perfectly fine by me,” Ominis whispered against his lips.

They stayed there, for Merlin knows how long, cuddled in front of the fire. Classes were skipped, dinner was missed, and Ominis was sure they’d find Sebastian stalking the entrance to the dungeons, ranting and raving either about whatever he’d learned from the spellbook that afternoon or about being left out.

It didn’t matter, Ominis thought. He walked down the stairs of the Astronomy tower in lock step with his friend. He wasn’t really sure if he should still call him a friend–Merlin knew whatever they’d done that afternoon had breached the fine line of friendship and relationship. But as their fingers entwined, hands swinging back and forth as they walked, Ominis knew things could never be the same as before.

He was perfectly fine with that.

Just as Ominis had predicted, Sebastian had been pacing in front of the Slytherin common room. He turned to the two boys, arms crossed against his chest quite sternly.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Ominis could sense Sebastian’s scowl. “I had to sit by myself at dinner.”

“Ominis has been taking care of me,” he said, clutching Ominis’s hand a bit tighter. “No thanks to you.”

Sebastian huffed. “Well, if you would have told me, I could’ve helped–”

“I think you’ve done enough, Sebastian.” Ominis raised a brow. “You should know him well enough by now, he’s our best friend.”

Sebastian hesitated; Ominis knew he was staring at their joined hands, the way they were standing closely.

“So, this is happening, isn’t it?” Sebastian asked.

Ominis blushed; he was sure the boy next to him was grinning.

“Yeah,” he said, thumb brushing over the back of Ominis’s hand. “I think it is.”

It took Sebastian a second to comprehend, quickly collecting himself. “It’s about time,” Sebastian drawled. “Honestly, I’ve felt like the third wheel around you two for quite some time now.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that then.” the boy said, squeezing Ominis. “We’ll figure out a cure for Anne. Then, it’ll be the four of us. A proper gang.”

“Really?” Sebastian perked. “You–after all that, you still want to help?”

“Of course, Sebastian.” Ominis said gently.

Sebastian went off on a tangent, something he’d researched that afternoon in his solitude. Ominis knew he should have been listening, but all he could focus on was the way the boy next to him shifted closer, slinging his arm around his waist. Ominis followed suit, putting his arm around his shoulder. They slotted next to each other, fitting quite nicely.

“Let’s go to the Undercroft then?” Sebastian asked hopefully.

“To the Undercroft–but first, you have to snag us dinner from the kitchens.” The boy instructed. “It’s the least you could do.”

“Right,” Sebastian said quickly. “I’ll get some sandwiches and meet you two down there.” His footsteps pittered off into the distance, muttering excitedly to himself about his readings.

There was a gentle squeeze at Ominis’s waist; he tilted his head down, leaning against the shorter boy.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?” Ominis murmured as they walked the empty hallways towards the DADA tower.

“Don’t baby me now,” he huffed. “But yes, I’m feeling fine. I’ll feel even better with some dinner, and perhaps some alone time with you.”

Ominis snorted. “Is that why you sent Sebastian to the kitchens?”

Ominis could feel his companion’s heated cheeks against his shoulder. “Maybe,” he said coyly. “Worked, didn’t it? Bought us some time.” His head jerked, likely inspecting the hallways to make sure they were alone, before rising up on the tips of his toes to kiss Ominis’s cheek.

Ominis licked his lips, biting down a smile. “Yes, I think it did.”

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x m!mc #ominis gaunt x you #i can't help writing ominis gaunt love stories

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dnp-dreams · 1 month

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I just woke from a fever dream that was I think supposed to be the phan theory video where it opened in their house with a shot of Phil and this small black kitten that had got inside somehow and Phil was begging Dan to keep it and Dan said no we can’t then jump cut to them putting a collar on it and implied that they have a cat now but that same shot jumpcuts to Dan putting a collar on Phil then immediately jumps back to the cat except it’s an adult tabby cat now with 2 heads and it’s implied the joke of the video will be that they will continually change random things to see if we notice/ to fuck with us. It’s slipping away from me now but I didn’t pick up my phone at 4am for nothing, jumpcut to them sitting on their kitchen bench with a little photo frame in front of them, inside of which is an image of their Wikipedia page. They turn to each other and lean in and at the last moment phil turns away and talks to camera, starts a monologue about how it’s been ten (15?) years and after all this time (during monologue camera zooms on the photo frame and the Wikipedia page starts scrolling/merges into some kind of tumblr/Wikipedia mashup of fan theory and official info ) camera zooms back out to dnp again and Phil finishes his monologue saying there’s been so much speculation and (referring to them leaning in before) they couldn’t just do THAT…. He trails off and looks at Dan and then they actually kiss for real. Video ends.

I wake up in a cold sweat thinking my god I’m going to kill them , then I realise it was a dream (nightmare? Phightmare?) but I have this gut feeling that they posted something (the video?) and I somehow absorbed it into my dream via like prophetic energy or some nonsense like that. I check my phone open YouTube. Nothing. I am calm. Open instagram. Everything looks normal FUCK ME NEVER MIND it’s the devil angel photo. I’m filled with rage. I check stories, i see it. I resist the urge to fly to London just so I can smack my head into a wall in front of them. I open tumblr. Everyone else is in a similar state. I dig up your account because I refuse to let this slip away from me.

Here we are. I hope ur day’s going well

anon this was an absolute wild ride. i'm sorry i got to it a few days late but i appreciate you coming here immediately after to tell me this. this is beautiful

#dan and phil #submission #phan

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ashoss · 3 months

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apollo's blessing to babs is that he doesn't smite her for using the Oracle name without asking for his permission first LMAO (i say this as a joke, but i could genuinely imagine apollo saying this to babs when he visits her to test her character. babs resists the urge to roll her eyes or try to argue that she didn't HAVE a way to ask him/didn't know she had to ask in the first place. she's been holding her verbal own against this god; she isn't gonna screw it up now)

but jokes aside, i could see his blessing being related to the idea of that he's a god of knowledge (in the reasoning/self-knowledge kind of way) and supporting the idea that Oracle!babs is a tech expert/information broker. like an "anywhere the light touches, you'll be able to see" sort of thing. any time she's hacking into something and gets hit with a mental block, the connection comes a little faster and the block goes away. if there's a place she's trying to get a visual on, she'll be able to find a camera/microphone/whatever even if it seems near-impossible as long as it's a place under the sun (basically as long as it's not underground or hidden via magic/gods). she won't be prophetic, she still has to do the work to look and make the connections herself, but apollo greases the wheels and makes it go a little faster. + maybe he throws in some healing as a bonus because she impressed him, like she heals slightly faster than the average person

god yeah ive been thinking about the apollo/babs dynamic. i think it would be super interesting to go more into

i do like the blessing being knowledge related! i do think he wouldnt give her something insanely op like being actually prophetic or anything but him "greases the wheels" is really good! everything ur saying is honestly really good oml

sort of on a different tangent-

im unsure atm where this would take place in the pjo canon? if i want them to take place in the same universe - like if it is a possibility for the current demigods like percy, annabeth, etc... to run into any of the batkids? i think i might have it a bit connected, but then that brings into question where the Trials of Apollo fit into the DC timeline.

because pre-ToA!apollo and post-ToA!apollo are different. pre-apollo is more selfish, godly- despite being one of the more human-like gods he still sees humans as like,, toys. post-apollo has more of an understanding of them, understanding their plights and feelings because of that time spent as lester and with the CHB kids.

i feel like pre-ToA apollo might not have given babs that blessing the same way post-ToA apollo might have, but if i have ToA take place before babs becomes oracle, meaning before the killing joke and death in the family that kind of messes up some of the vibes i wanted to go for. percy is 17 in ToA, and (unsure if i DO want percy and the gang to be involved with the batkids in this au) i feel like he would be the same age or around the same age as jason, to me it makes a lot of sense to me- but if ToA happened before apollo offers babs the blessing that would make percy AT LEAST 2/3 years older than jason. so im not 100% sure on things. although percy as older than jason would be interesting.

or pre-toa apollo did it because it thought of babs as something cool he could play around with- use his blessing on her like a experiment or something idk D:::

#what would yall do if i told u i started working on a script for the apollo/babs meeting #barbara gordon #ashbox #the bat pjo au

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killedbythehuntress · 1 year

Text

Stockholm Syndrome

★·.·´¯`·.·★ .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿ ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Also On: AO3 and Wattpad

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Beautiful art work below by @diligentcranberry - Thank you again, love!

Tags/Warnings:

Rape/Non-Con Elements, Twisted Love, Dark!Sebastian Sallow, alcohol use.

★·.·´¯`·.·★ .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿ ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Chapter One.

She doesn't know what makes her stop. She's walked past this stand a lot of times, the moving pictures barely catching her eye before she continues on her way. But something inside her makes her stop today. Hand over a sickle to the tender and take a copy of the Daily Prophet before she continues her daily errands.

It's not until she's home, everything unpacked, the door locked thrice and a cup of tea on the table in front of her did she finally pull out the bunch of papers she'd felt compelled to buy. The air suddenly feels like it's sucked out of the room and she can barely breathe.

Breaking News!

The Wizarding Community is on high alert at the news that Dark Wizard, Sebastian Sallow, has escaped Azkaban prison. The 24-Year-old has been in Azkaban since being convicted of the murder of his uncle in the winter of 1891. Nothing has yet been released on how he escaped the notorious prison, but we urge the community to stay safe and vigilant.

She doesn't even finish reading, instead, her eyes find their way to the picture next to it. A fifteen-year-old Sebastian stares out at her, a frown on his lips, dark eyebrows furrowed, and a look of sadness, betrayal, and regret in his eyes. She couldn't bear it, instead, she whipped out her wand and cast a quick Incendio, the Prophet immediately turning to ash on the table. How could she have been so naive to have thought the Wizengamot would've gone easy on him given everything? She may have only been 15, and while she'd been a part of the community for a good few months, she should have known that an Unforgivable - especially Avada Kadavra - would land someone in Azkaban for life. Something that Sebastian Sallow didn't deserve, regardless of his actions.

With another flick of her wand and the ash is gone, cleaned up, and almost forgotten. Her elbows rest on the table, her face buried in her hands as she sobs for the first time in years for what was lost - she'd only wanted him to learn his lesson, she hadn't wanted to lose him. Hadn't anticipated the entire fallout. Anne and Ominis had been beside her at the time, happy for her to be the one responsible to make the decision - probably to save themselves the guilt of it - but also likely using her naivety and lack of understanding of the Wizarding Law in hopes she wouldn't feel the guilt herself.

That had lasted all of three days when she saw the article detailing Sebastian’s sentencing. That had been the first time she'd broken down about her decision, she'd screamed at Ominis in the Undercroft for not telling her turning him in meant never seeing him again. She'd collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his chest but the thought that it wasn't Sebastian brought the sobs harder and faster until she pushed Ominis away and curled in on herself.

She'd finished her last two years of Hogwarts in silence, only speaking when a professor asked something of her. She pulled away from the many friends she'd made during that fateful year - not from their lack of trying - she just couldn't. She spent any time not in class in the Room of Requirements, she'd even gone through a period where she didn't eat because she couldn't face the Great Hall. But Deek had caught wind of that and made sure to always have something set on a table for her.

For as excited as she was to attend Hogwarts, leaving had felt like a relief. There were too many memories haunting her of him, and the friends she'd left behind. Part of her had wanted to run as far away from Scotland as she could, but the other part - the larger part - couldn't.

Even if she couldn't be with him, she wanted to be close.

The thought terrified her, he knew it was her decision. He'd looked so angry, so hurt as he was hauled away by the Aurors and the article detailing his sentence had quoted him. He'd promised he'd get revenge.

It was stupid of her - likely still naivety - that made her move from the Highlands surrounding Hogwarts to a small Hamlet in the northernmost area of Scotland. She'd managed to buy a single cottage on the outer edge of the hamlet, the back leading to the forest and while being there was lonely, she hadn't made much of an effort to befriend anyone. It was private, it was hers, and honestly, if Sebastian had to deal with life alone because of her. She felt she deserved it too.

Her sobs quieted after some minutes, the air in the room still heavy with the melancholy she felt. Her tea had gone cold, not that she felt she could stomach it. Her insides were in knots, she felt that any attempt to eat or drink could cause her to vomit. Any movement could cause her to collapse further in on herself.

She took a deep breath, a sigh escaping her as she reminded herself that no one knew where she lived. Not from lack of trying on their part, Ominis, Natty & Poppy had continued to try and open her back up for her last two years to no avail. Following their graduation, they'd reached out via Owl. Although the more she ignored them, the less they came.

A knock at her door pulled her from her increasingly spiraling thoughts and she frowned, pulling herself up slowly from the table. "Who is it?" She called cautiously, although it probably wasn't her best idea. It was likely just the friendly old woman down from the house closest offering her something she'd baked.

"Open the door, it's Ominis." Her eyebrows furrowed then, stepping closer to the door but not unlocking it.

"How do you know where I live?"

"I work for the Ministry, it wasn't hard." She felt a pang in her chest at his clipped words, she'd never admit it but she had missed it, missed him. Finally unlocking her door and pulling it open, she took a look at Ominis. The years had treated him well, his hair was still slicked back and his suit still made him look as regal as he always did.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, a little exasperated at the situation. Her words, while firm, still held the edge they did when she'd been crying and she hoped it had been long enough that her unexpected guest didn't notice.

"Checking in. I don't suppose you heard the news." And there it was, his way of letting her know he still cared but not in such a way she'd run and lock the door in his face. "Sebastian escaped." Stepping back slightly, audibly so that he knew he could come in.

"I did catch a glimpse at the Prophet, yes. Is that why you're here?" She asked, her voice needlessly harsh as she continued. "Here to see if I'm hiding him somewhere?"

"No, of course not." He mentioned with a frown of his own. "You surely remember what he said upon sentencing. I was merely worried about you." The words took all of the fight from her and once again she found her lip trembling as she held back her tears, another wave of guilt washing over her.

"How long has he been out?" She brings herself to ask, the newspaper was from today, sure. But if Ominis thought Sebastian could have already found his way to her, perhaps it'd been a few days.

"We think he escaped Monday, but we can't be sure. The guard he'd managed to switch with was in no condition to talk." Monday… They thought Monday and he'd only shown today for fear of her safety. It was Saturday for Merlin's sake. She felt a small flame of anger flicker in her chest. "No one realized until Thursday when the next guard was sent through."

She couldn't help but laugh at the sheer stupidity. No one noticed a guard had disappeared on his rounds. She knew the tales of Azkaban were horror stories, but for Helena's sake, she didn't expect them to be that bad. She could only imagine what it was like to be there full-time.

And that thought was enough to snuff out the anger and bring back the melancholy from earlier.

"If you're wanting to look around, just in case. I haven't been home for long." She murmured, not even sure why she'd said it. But Ominis was quick to nod, his wand flashing its usual red as he walked around the small cottage. Picking up the cup of forgotten tea, she couldn't help but feel on edge, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the news of Sebastian or if it was because there was someone other than herself in her house. No one else had been here since she moved in six years.

She busied herself doing the dishes, staring out the window into the small Hamlet until Ominis had finished his sweep. She could feel him standing by the table but she didn't turn, neither of them saying anything for a while.

"I think it's time you-"

"I want you to write to-"

They both spoke at the same time, and she finally pulled her eyes from the children she saw running in the field to look at her guest. "You first." He assured, clearing his throat. She suddenly felt a little awkward, her nose wrinkling slightly as she thought back on what she was going to say.

"No, you first." She finally decided it was for the best since she'd been about to tell him to leave.

"I want you to write to me, let me know you're okay at least weekly." Her brows furrowed and she felt another flicker of irritation.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Ominis. I made sure that when I moved here no one would know me or that I'd moved here. Until you showed up, that is." She couldn't help the bitter tone in her voice, she'd tried so hard to make sure there was no way anyone could track her down. She supposed that even without that effort, his connections at work would mean he'd always known.

"I'm serious, I just want you to let me know you're okay. At least until he's back in Azkaban." The genuine concern in his voice was bittersweet, he clearly wanted her to know that he meant it. "If I don't hear from you, I'll have to stop by again."

Heaving a frustrated sigh, she gave the blonde boy a glare that he couldn't rightfully see. "Fine. If it means I'm left alone." Deep down, she realized she didn't mean it. She'd felt so lonely and part of her felt that perhaps she wouldn't follow through just so he would turn up. But then she remembered the guilt and knew that she had to be lonely because that's what she'd sentenced Sebastian to eight years ago. "Now I'd you'd be so kind to leave, it's getting late." She finished, leaving no room for argument as she stepped to the door and pulled it open.

"Take care of yourself, please," Ominis said as he stepped back through the door, still a small look of concern on his face that made her turn away.

Once he was out, she closed the door and once again triple-locked it before checking the windows. Only when she was sure everything was secure did she curl up on her couch with a blanket, and a book open in front of her - not that she paid it any mind. Her focus was on the flames licking in the fireplace as she waited for the time she'd move from the couch to bed.

— — — — — —

The feeling of something trailing over her forehead caused her to stir slightly, sleep slipping away from her. She groaned, turning over and burying herself further into the pillows and blankets of her bed before the realization struck her.

Sitting up quickly, she looked around the bedroom, the low light from the lamp on her dresser casting shadows. But besides her and her heavy breathing, the room was empty.

She was going crazy. Paranoid.

It had been a week since the article and Ominis' visit. A week of knowing that Sebastian was out there somewhere, likely looking for her. A week of constantly feeling like she was being watched when she wasn't. It was taking a toll on her.

She briefly contemplated asking Ominis if she could stay a few days with him, to see if she felt any different. But considering last Saturday was the first time they'd spoken in years, she likely wasn't welcome.

Sighing softly, she pulled herself up from her bed. Some tea would likely help calm her. Grasping at the lamp, she stepped from her bedroom and into the main room, heading for the stove and her small tea kettle. She got busy, setting the water to boil and taking hold of a cup she'd used earlier in the day. Her eyes settled out of the window just as they had a week ago. The streets of the hamlet were dark and empty, it was raining heavily, and for some reason that soothed her a little. She'd always liked the rain.

A loud bang from her bedroom jolted her from her thoughts, dropping the teacup she held as the sound of wind howled through her home. Once more grasping her lamp, she took her wand from the counter too and crept to the doorway, looking through it cautiously. The room was still empty, there weren't any hiding places after all. The room was only big enough for a bed and a dresser.

Her eyes lifted from their observation of the room to the window. Seeing it had flown open. Frowning, she stepped further into the room and towards the window until she was able to pull it closed, locking it. She swore she'd locked it before she'd gone to bed. But perhaps the stress of the last week was getting to her, her days blending together.

She had nothing to worry about. No one but Ominis knew where she lived and he wouldn't tell anyone. It had to have been the wind from the storm, she hadn't latched it properly before bed, clearly.

The sound of a quiet whistle sounded from her kitchen and she sighed. Right, yes. Tea. That's what she needed. Pulling her curtains closed, she made her way back into the kitchen to finish her tea, hopefully when she drank it she'd be able to get back to sleep.

— — — — — —

A few days later, she found herself stopping next to the stand holding the Daily Prophet, she glanced at the headline.

Sallow Still at Large!

She didn't bother picking up a copy this time, it was likely just going to be a reiteration of what was said in the original article. Instead, she forced herself to push on, the hood of her robe pulled up over her head.

The feeling of being watched magnified each time she left the house, to the point where she was seriously considering dropping her errands to one day a week and holing herself up inside of her cottage.

She stopped at the produce vendor, picking up some pieces of fruit and vegetables as she did often, paying quickly before turning on her heel. Usually, she'd make a stop at a few more stores, but right now, she wanted to go home. She wasn't in dire need of anything else - today at least.

Walking down the main street of the hamlet, her hood up and her head down to avoid being seen meant that she wasn't looking where she was going. So it wasn't surprising when she walked into someone, the bag she held falling to the floor.

"Merlin, I'm sorry!" She said, reaching down to collect her things.

"Don't be, miss. Accidents happen." A friendly voice said she looked up briefly to see a man of around her age, brunette hair and while his smile was friendly and it definitely wasn't Sebastian she was looking at, she couldn't help the flash of his face in place of the strangers.

Suddenly she was in a bigger rush to get home, her hands trembling as she fought to ensure everything she'd dropped was picked up.

"Let me help." The young man offered and she frantically shook her head, scooping the last of the produce into her bag and standing quickly.

"N-no n-need. It's fine. I must get home." She brushed off, pushing past the kind stranger that made her think of Sebastian and speed walked her way back to her cottage, not looking back. Although that feeling at the back of her neck, that she was being watched only grew as she stepped over the threshold and once more thrice locked her door. A sigh of relief fell from her lips as her clammy forehead rested against the cool wood.

— — — — — —

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since she'd seen that article since Ominis had visited and nothing had happened besides her losing her mind from her paranoia.

Since her run-in with not-Sebastian, she hadn't left the house. A traitorous part of her brain just wanted him to be found and back in Azkaban so that she could go back to how life was before.

As much as she didn't want to leave, she had to head into town. If she didn't want Ominis stopping by again she'd have to drop off the letter she'd written him. She also needed to get some food.

She supposed she could be quick about it, not stopping beside the two shops she needed to and then heading straight back. Chewing on her bottom lip, she considered not leaving, her eyes staring at the front door as if it could decide for her. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and blinked against the bright sun. 'Quick, just be quick.' She told herself, closing the door behind her and heading towards the main street. And if she stopped to buy a bottle of fire whiskey while she was there, who was going to judge?

— — — — — —

Slamming the door behind her, she panted - a slight panic overtaking her. She was definitely going crazy, she swore she'd seen Seb so many times in the small time she was out, only to do a double take and there would be no one there. She had to be going crazy.

Dropping the bag of food onto the kitchen counter, she rummaged through the bag until she found what she was looking for. The bottle of fire whiskey glinted in the sun streaming through the winter. Briefly, a voice in her head told her it was too early to drink, but she shut it up quickly as she pulled the top off and took a large drink.

The fiery liquid trailed down her throat and she held back a cough, even as the wince made it through. Dropping herself into the chair at the kitchen table, she held the bottle in an iron grip. As she took another long drag from the bottle, she could feel the familiar haze of calm falling over her.

She tried to remember when she'd last eaten and realized it had been breakfast yesterday. Pair that with the fact she didn't drink often and it was only normal for barely a quarter of a bottle to hit her so fast.

Time passed slowly, and the contents of the bottle also slowly dwindled as it got dark outside. At some point, it started raining again but she didn't care. She'd drunk a good amount of the bottle and she couldn't very well keep her head up off the table.

She'd never be able to get herself to bed in this state. Rolling her head to the side, she looked at the couch, wondering if she'd be able to make it there. It was only five steps, maximum.

Pushing herself up, grasping the edge of the table hard to steady herself as the room spun. Once she felt situated enough, she took a step.

So far, so good.

Another step, then another and that's when her knees buckled. Her stomach churned and she closed her eyes as she waited to meet the floor. But the meeting never came. Two arms had wrapped around her, catching her in her fall.

"Woah, there, Sweetheart. Missed me?"

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #writing #beth writes #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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waywardxwords · 1 year

Text

Part Two

Summary: *Part 2 in the Highway to Hell series* While trying to wrap her head around her newfound role as a prophet, she finds herself connecting with the oldest Winchester brother. Word Count: 1,383 Warnings: Some light drinking, a little bit of cursing...nothing crazy!

INTRO | PART ONE

Castiel demanded that she stay the night with the boys. The uncertainty inside of her had been replaced with fear, and though she didn’t know these men (or the angel) from Adam, she somehow felt as though she could trust them. So, shockingly, staying the night at this stranger’s house brought her a weird peace of mind.

She stared at the ceiling as she contemplated the last twenty-four hours. Shadows of the tree branches just outside the windows danced across the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep?” A deep voice came from the doorway. Dean entered cautiously. He and Sam had decided to sleep in the bunker to give her some space and privacy.

Somehow she managed a smile and let out a soft laugh. “Guess I just have too much on my mind.”

Dean nodded. “Understandable,” he shoved his hands into his jean pockets and she took notice. The man must not own many clothes if he slept in jeans. If she understood his life correctly, she knew he must spend most, if not all, of his time on the road.

“Weren’t you terrified?” She asked as she tried to shift to face him. She winced only slightly at the pull of her healing wounds. Dean took a seat on the coffee table and looked down at the ground as he thought about her question.

“Sometimes,” he nodded with a slight shrug. He surprised himself with how comfortable he felt with this girl. “In the moments we were in serious shit, yeah. But I mean, this was our life. Always has been. We didn’t have a choice.”

“Neither do I, apparently,” she looked down and picked at a loose string on the plaid-print couch.

“Hey,” Dean said to pull her attention back to him. “When you understand what we do, you’ll understand why we do it.”

His tone was serious, the pressure from his gaze felt debilitating to her.

“We save people,” he stressed, his tone urging her to understand. “We hunt things that kill people.”

She nodded slowly and tried to understand how to phrase her next thought. “But in order to do that…you have to kill people?”

“Not people,” Dean corrected. “Things.” He thought it over as she shifted a bit more on her side. Dean licked his lips as he contemplated continuing. “Look, you’ve had a really long twenty-four hours…you should try to sleep. I think we’ve filled you in enough for now.”

She wanted to argue, but she figured he might be right. Her fingers gripped the blanket that was draped over her and tugged it up closer to her chest. “You’re probably right,” she nodded before continuing. “But I know sure as hell I’m not sleeping tonight…or not right now, anyway. You think Bobby has some hot chocolate or something?”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Not too sure about the hot chocolate, but I could almost guarantee the ‘or something’.”

A slight frown pulled across her face but she stood to follow Dean anyway, as she tried to ignore the sting as her bandages pulled. He popped open a cabinet, knowing his way around Bobby’s kitchen (or liquor cabinet, at least). He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and two small rocks glasses.

“Ah,” she managed a small smirk as she rested her weight on the counter on her elbows. “The ‘or something’ category usually leaves me with a headache, but with the day I’ve had…why not?”

Dean chuckled and nodded as he set the goods down in front of her. He unscrewed the cap to the Tennessee whiskey and poured two glasses, straight up. “Yeah, Bobby doesn’t usually carry the good stuff…but this’ll do. It’s the only thing that puts me to sleep these days.”

She nodded as she took her glass and tipped her head to him in thanks. “To not going totally insane,” she smirked as she held the glass in front of her.

Dean smiled and tapped his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that,” they made eye contact as they tapped their glasses back down on the wooden countertop and then took a sip.

Dean was impressed with how smoothly she seemed to take her liquor. She only winced for a moment before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Whiskey your drink of choice?” They walked back towards the living room, with her resuming her spot on the couch, but this time Dean took a seat next to her, leaving enough room in between.

“I guess I owe that to my college days,” she shrugged as her eyes glanced down at the caramel colored liquor. “You learn how to hold your alcohol when your roommate is in a sorority and you’re invited to all the socials.”

“Sororities, huh?” Dean couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. “I bet you have a lot of fun stories.”

“Number one rule of the sorority code,” she leaned a little closer before whispering. “We’ll never tell.”

Dean shook his head with a laugh and took another swig from his glass.

“What about you? You don’t seem like the fraternity kinda guy to me,” she eyed her company as Dean moved his glass around, swirling the liquid within.

“Thanks, I think,” he frowned. “I didn’t go to college. That was more Sammy’s thing.”

“Ah, right,” she nodded. “Too many monsters, not enough time, right?”

Dean smirked again. There was something about her he couldn’t seem to put his finger on.

“What?” She caught onto his stare and seemed to fold under the pressure. Her cheeks warmed up with a pale crimson color and she found her eyes averted to the glass in her hands yet again.

“Nothing,” Dean shook his head and broke his trance from the woman beside him. “It’s just…you’re different.”

“Like crazy, psychic, prophet different? Or this girl talks too much, especially when she starts drinking, different?” A soft laugh slipped through her lips as she took another sip from her glass.

Dean felt like he had smiled one too many times tonight, but he couldn’t help the grin he felt creep upon his lips. “Just different,” he shrugged and let the comment fall off there.

Before either could say another word, a slight breeze blew throughout the room. “She needs to sleep,” Castiel appeared just in front of the window, his silhouette haunting almost.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean groaned as he closed his eyes for a moment. His newfound friend (and drinking partner) grasped at her chest, both taken by surprise. “Can you use a door or something?”

“But why?” Cas seemed genuinely thoughtful. Dean just shook his head and stood from his spot on the couch.

“Forget it,” he mumbled. “Well, angel’s orders.” He nodded back towards her. “Get some rest, you’re probably gonna need it.”

She nodded for a moment and glanced at the hardwood floor beneath her feet. “Um, Dean?” She hesitated for a moment as she gnawed at her bottom lip. She was hesitant to ask her next question as her eyes traveled over the makeshift bed in the window bay she assumed one of the boys might use regularly. She went back on the thought almost as soon as it had crossed her mind. “Nevermind. Goodnight,” she managed a smile up at the man.

Dean knew better as he eyed her carefully. His eyes followed hers to the window bed, and then traveled back to her. “Hey, uh, would you mind if I slept over there? The basement can get a little cramped with Sasquatch. Unless that makes you uncomfortable or anything,” he hurried to add in the last part, just in case his thought process wasn’t reading hers correctly.

He relaxed when he watched her smile and nod. “That would be great.”

Castiel made himself scarce, yet again, as Dean made up the makeshift bed. He moved his glass to the floor as he pulled up the blanket and rested his head on a small throw pillow. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard her whisper.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hmm?” He glanced over towards her. In the dim glow of the moon, he could make out her biting her bottom lip once more.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered back. Both fell asleep with smiles on their faces, something neither thought was possible.

------------

Part Three here!

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester ff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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