#the gaunt who loved

[mocharoll]

(Ominis/GN!Reader) The Fools

An Ode to Young Love and Recovery

Summary: Two years post-game. Your final year at Hogwarts calls for early celebrations at the Three Broomsticks as you continue to struggle with your past. Only, you're slowly starting to learn that it is not enough for you to try and bury your memories, but to nurture them instead so one day they can become trees.

Rating: Mature (Implied sexual content, aged up characters)

Content: Angst, romance, humour, (self-)acceptance, trauma recovery, insights on growing up, raging hormones of young adults, a lot of fluff and a lot of love.

No real spoilers for the end of the game and spoilers for Sebastian's questline.

Link to the series: The Gaunt Who Loved

—

It was a mild September's evening, with the molten gold hues of the sky getting even warmer as the sun stretched over the horizon and across the evergreen hills surrounding Hogsmeade. Despite summer having ended some time ago, nature was showing no signs of grogginess so far. It's as if the Sun had not yet realised that it was indeed autumn, and missed the memo that he was supposed to be going to sleep earlier. Maybe today he wanted to watch all the ruckus that was going on, down there in the Three Broomsticks, for just a while longer. You approach the lively pub with a soft smile and tranquil spirits, having arrived a bit earlier to have a private celebration with your partner.

You are about to begin your last year in Hogwarts. It has been two years since you embarked on your fateful journey and your life took a rather jagged turn, going so rapidly in-between ups and downs that on a graph it must resemble overused scratch paper. Since all you've been through with your friends in foiling Ranrok and Rookwood's plans, the rest of your time has been quite relaxed and uneventful, at least by Hogwarts standards, so much so that one might suspect it to be early retirement.

When your fifth year had come to an end, Sebastian and Ominis were at an impass. Not only due to their strained relationship and their hesitance in approaching the other in fear of overstepping their boundaries, which was especially true for Sebastian, who did most offense albeit meaning no actual harm, but also due to Anne's refusal to have anything to do with her twin immediately after the incident. All of a sudden the boys didn't have anywhere to go. As such, it was only fair that you and your family opened your doors to your first ever friends in Hogwarts, who welcomed you with open arms when you were expecting a cold welcome as a relative outsider. Your parents, who were incredibly glad to not having to be scared witless for the the safety of their only child, who was miles away from them and in constant danger, did not hesitate for a single second to accept the fold into their home. Your friends were ever so grateful to be given the opportunity to heal and reconnect in a place where they didn't need to constantly be on their guard. Even so, everything that has happened in your fifth year seemed like a memory that couldn't stay in the past where it belonged. With every year that passed, the more randomly the remnants of all that has transpired resurfaced from your collective memory, and at unpredictable intervals.

"A year ago today I nearly became dragon kibble," said with mock indignance, petting the family cat that had just gotten used to the presence of more than three people being present at once in the house.

"Can't believe we all managed to get dragged into all sorts of trouble soon after we met you," said fondly with a twinge of melancholy, listening intently for any cues of positive or negative reactions, yet finding only melancholy palpably reflected back at him. Melancholy for what, nobody really knew. Loss of innocence? Although none of you had the innocence of what was expected in a typical teenager. The acknowledgement of lost innocence, perhaps.

"It's been two years since Solomon died," said abruptly, the monotonous tone betraying deep and persistent hurt, only a few minutes after you all had been laughing about Garreth's antics at Potions class. It had felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water over your head, freezing you with the same paralysing dread as when you realised what had happened. That Solomon had died in his sleep, peacefully.

You wince at the memories and all the lies you've had to tell in order to cover up those memories, albeit to little success. Your eyes instinctively close shut, yet it barely stops the part of your brain that is still terrified yet intent on replaying all that has happened, nor is it effective in distracting you from the faint prickling at the base of your skull that has been reoccurring in short bursts ever since you were hit by the Cruciatus curse, like a muted cascade of static electricity.

It's been getting better, you reassure yourself, because you don't yet know what to make of the other alternative, which is that you've only gotten used to the sensation. Of course, your friends have been of tremendous help as you healed, both physically and mentally, and for a while they were the one grounding factor that kept you sane. That is, after they knew how they could effectively help you better when you finally relented and told them you needed their help. You are forever grateful for them; for their support, patience and compassion. It is then you became aware of how incredibly lucky you were to be surrounded by so much positivity and tenderness. Perhaps you needed to survive such a calamity to realise how loved you really are.

"Are you intent on standing there any longer?" You hear a familiar voice ring out behind you, the musical lilts brimming with amusement. "If so, please be so kind to step aside so at least one of us can enjoy the butterbeer that you had proposed we get." You can't help but smile to yourself and at the warmth spreading out from the centre of your chest, which promptly dispels the remaining dark clouds behind your eyes. Normally it takes way more effort for anyone, let alone you, to pull you out from the eye of a storm like this, but that's just the effect this guy always had on you; the kind that passes through your defences as gently as the foam of sea waves caress the farthest edges of the sand. His influence over you has never alarmed you, and frankly you allowed for it, because you are well aware that the disgust he misplaces in himself due to his family's reputation and how utterly wary he is of his capacity to hurt others makes him that much more careful not to betray the trust of those he cares about. Hence you've never hidden your positive reactions from him when he's around, even before you were together, because your trust in him helped him build trust in himself.

With that, your eyes flutter open, your otherwise heavy eyelids showing no resistance, and you blink rapidly to clear the remaining fog to see the reflection on the door. Surely enough, you see none other than Ominis standing behind you, wand resting at his side, his bemused expression otherwise displaying calm patience.

"Hey, you!" You sigh in relief.

"Hey." He lifts his gaze from the ground and brings it up towards the direction of your voice, smiling warmly. He lifts his other arm slightly and curves his hand inwards, beckoning you to come closer.

You don't need to be asked twice. You step into his space in practiced confidence that still gives you butterflies and wrap your arms underneath his, your head landing right underneath his jaw as he wraps around you. Ominis didn't use to be too big on hugs, mostly because they startled him if a verbal warning wasn't given beforehand and, well, he's not used to the gesture all that much. Or rather he wasn't, because your inclination for showing affection through physical contact, which he found endearingly tolerable at first, became something he greatly enjoyed and eventually gladly initiated. You swear every time you tuck your head in the crook of his neck you can feel how tall he's gotten since the last time you hugged, especially considering the first time around you were almost the same height! Each hug feels a little different than the last, although the reason for that is completely unrelated to height.

After a few blissful seconds, or more (you can't really tell at this point), you lean your head back a tiny bit to look at him. Despite the mature sharpness of the lines of his face and the slight hollowness of his cheeks that was a temporary side effect of growth spurts, you could still see the softness in his features and in his unfocused eyes that were somehow able to see all of you at once. He is getting more handsome with each passing month and you'd be lying if you didn't enjoy making him blush with your attestations of just how attractive he is. As for you, while your height was guaranteed to remain the same by now, the excess fat right below your cheekbones that you irately tugged at in your early adolescence got smoothed out, just like your mother had assured, and the bridge of your nose that you inherited from your father started to get more prominent, which he had jokingly forewarned you against when you were a kid. He made light of it by telling you that you'll be able to smell things a lot better, yet given your experiences around noxious and pungent materials that were an inherent reality of the 'authentic Hogwarts experience', you don't see how that could possibly be a good thing. Nevertheless, you were glad to be growing and accepted the changes your body was going through as best you could. Besides, the way Ominis was holding you already made you feel like you were the most gorgeous thing ever.

"How did you know it was me?" Your voice is reduced to little more than a whisper.

He opens his eyes, their corners crinkling at your sudden discretion. "I was right behind you, you know." He says matter of factly, also whispering. "I recognised your footsteps."

You chuckle softly, sliding your arm out from under his, and run your fingers through his hair. "Figured as much."

"Mhm." He arches into your touch and hums lowly, grazing his nose against your cheek with a smirk he doesn't care to hide anymore. He leans in closer, his soft breaths making your skin feel hot red. That is your cue to face him, and Ominis gladly meets your lips in the middle. You stand there for a moment, entwined in each other, swaying gently with the early autumn's wind that feels like cool lemonade, and when you finally deepen the kiss you feel him inhale sharply, his brows furrowing with intense focus. His grip on your robe gets tighter as he pulls you closer until you're flush against his body and you feel him pressing tightly against your thigh.

Ever since the incident, Ominis and Sebastian have been trying their best to mend their strained relationship, and Sebastian had been focusing on reconciling with Anne in order to make up for precious time lost after he had ironically neglected her in pursuit of cheating death for her. As such, you and Ominis ended up spending more and more time together, making up for time spent chasing after Sebastian and not around each other. After getting over the shock of the revelation that you like liked each other after your admissions of mutual affection, you started to get closer and closer. The playful glances became tentative touches, and those became bold caresses as you got older and grew more comfortable around each other. And now, it just so happened that he was pinning you against a wall.

The muffled buzzing of the bar is almost completely snuffed out as your senses centre around him and nothing else, until you barely notice that you're backed against the wall and your kisses have started to get urgent and desperate. And then Ominis breaks away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he grounds himself and tries his best to calm himself. His eyes stayed closed, like opening them would mean losing the clarity of you. You gasp at the sudden loss, swollen lips gaping pathetically. You feel dizzy, intoxicated, even, and it doesn't help that his face is only a few inches from you, yet you silently hold onto him while you wait for your head to stop spinning. He's drawing this out and you know it. A part of you appreciates it, despite it being positively excruciating.

Once you've both caught your breaths, it doesn't take long for the position you're both in to finally dawn on you, and how the steps of incoming and departing patrons seem to falter, pause, then continue hurriedly in the opposite direction as you. You thought you could even hear the cheer of a particularly tipsy patron that sounded old enough for you to avoid eye contact at all costs lest you see him in class someday. A jolt of panic shoots up your spine when you feel Ominis trembling and you worriedly turn back to check on him, but you see that his shoulders are simply shaking in silent laughter. His face is scrunched up in equal amounts of delight and embarrassment, and also the reddest you've ever seen it. It's not long until you join him as well, cupping his cheek and chuckling uncontrollably. Your laughter eventually goes up the wrong airway and turns into a massive snort, which prompts Ominis to practically start wheezing.

"Okay, okay!" You plead after you feel tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "Please. I'm about to pee myself."

Ominis can only manage to bury his face into your shoulder, shaking his head as if to convey that his efforts to stop are ultimately for naught. You are left to pat the top of his head and fix his once carefully groomed hair as you look up and wipe the tears from your eyes. This is one of the things you love most about yourself. That you can find, pluck, and bring joy wherever you go. You've found that people bloom in your presence, that your friends are not only motivated to reach their potential in terms of academic success, but in being the best they could be. The most passionately impulsive guy you've known realised he could find the peace he was desperately searching simply by slowing down and enjoying the time he has with his loved ones. The reserved guy who exercised unprecedented self-control over himself to the point of neurosis is a bubbly laughing mess in your arms.

I turned out okay after all. You smile to yourself, closing your eyes peacefully and burying your nose in Ominis' hair. Ominis, who has significantly calmed down by now, peppers your neck with kisses in return of your gesture.

"That was nice," he mutters elatedly.

"It was," you brush your thumb across his cheek, "...and we can do it again, later."

He nods and turns his head, planting a quick kiss on your thumb before standing straight, hands searching for misplaced or fuzzy strands in your hair. He finds plenty, so he starts to gently comb them out with his fingers. You also fix his tieless collar and realign his dark grey vest, and run your hands through his hair one last time to ensure it looks close to how neat it look before your make out session ruined it. He doesn't seem to mind it in the slightest.

"Perhaps not outside of the single most crowded pub in town, yes?" Ominis raises a teasing brow.

"Indeed. You're ravishing, by the way."

Ominis brows shoot up at that, almost to comical proportions, but he recovers quickly enough. He instinctively checks the collars of his shirt and smooths the front of his vest.

"You don't think the vest is a bit too much?"

"I think it's perfect. And you left out the tie so it looks relaxed enough. You look like you're just here to get a drink."

Ominis nods, satisfied. "That is my intention." He tilts his head, smiling. "And you're absolutely breathtaking."

You chuckle, shrugging with quasi-modesty. "I try."

His smile turns cheeky as he traces the side of your neck with his fingers. "Really? I didn't notice."

You sigh incredulously, shoulders raising so dramatically that it makes Ominis smirk. "Shut up before I back us up into a corner again. And this time we're not stopping."

His expression shifts at that and his hand halts at the base of your jaw. "Who said I will stop?"

"Don't, please." You say without a trace of your bratiness earlier, voice thick with desire and desparation.

Ominis freezes at your tone, his jaw tensing up as he takes a few deep breaths. You realise he's doing his utmost best to not pounce on you right there.

"Later," he manages, extricating himself from you with sheer willpower. He retrieves his wand from his pocket and mutters something as he sways it gently, seemingly fixing the appearance of his trousers.

"Later." You agree, peering into the pub momentarily. "There's a lot of people."

"I noticed. It's alright." Ominis clears his throat, looking somewhat sheepish over his apparent loss of control, but later on when he recalled this moment and your initial reaction, he would think back to it with great pride. He extends his free hand. "Shall we head inside?"

You happily take his hand, swaying them gently before resting them at your side. "Right this way, then." You step forward to open the door and a cacophony of rowdy chatter and trills of laughter bursts out in a giant tide, hitting you straight in the face like the heat of an oven when you first open its door. It's as if you turning the handle was but only a simple catalyst for this vibrant eruption, and you feel giddy at the sensation. You look over at Ominis and see that his brows are slightly furrowed due to the sudden loudness, but is too basking under the warmth. By now the Sun had already started to give in to fatigue, and blinked at the people of Hogsmeade one last time before setting to meet with them the next morning as he so promised to the Earth at the dawn of the universe. You step inside right after Ominis, tapping your feet against the magical rug that gladly gobbles up the dirt from your weary shoes.

It's not going to be the easiest job in the world; moving forward, reconciling with your restless memories, your occasional sleepless nights and your survivor's guilt. But it is going to be easier than it otherwise could have been, with your loved ones at your side. You will just have to remind and allow yourself to take it one day at a time, not only because that's the right thing to do given the traumatic circumstances you have faced at such a young age, but because that's the only thing you can do. Step slowly but surely into the future, staying together, acknowledging the importance of your combined strength to overcome whatever difficulties you might face from the past and beyond. Perhaps that is all you really need.

Ominis slips his fingers between yours, brushing his thumb over your knuckle, as if he could tell that you had gone elsewhere and wanted to remind you that he was there for you. You squeeze his hand in return.

I'm back. I'm back and I know you're here and I couldn't be happier to have you.

The tenseness in his brows completely dissipates as his expression lights up and he blinks softly at you with great affection. Sometimes you really wonder if he can hear your thoughts, or whether your boyfriend is actually a cat. You chuckle at your thoughts and nod at him, tugging your hand in the same rhythm to say you're ready to move. Ominis smiles and moves ahead as you slip inside into the centre with him, the door shutting gently behind you.

[choccy-milky]

smooth, seb 👍 ((redraw of this scene from the goblet of fire))

[waitineedaname]

I was thinking about the trope of characters gaining weight to indicate healing/character growth, and I realized how well that would fit Shen Qingqiu

Qing Jing Peak's food is apparently bland, and I doubt Shen Jiu was eating for the joy of it. He probably only ate enough to keep himself alive and supplemented it with inedia, so the guy was probably pretty gaunt under all those layers of robes. Then Shen Yuan shows up and in very quick succession gets a fantasy chronic illness and access to The Protagonist's Cooking™️ and gets to live a pretty spoiled life for several years. He probably keeps himself relatively fit to retain the peak lord image, but he definitely gains some weight in the years following his transmigration. His face filling out probably worked wonders when it comes to softening his image compared to Shen Jiu's rather severe presence. Luo Binghe, with his trauma with regards to food insecurity, probably thrived getting to see his Shizun looking well fed and healthy

And then the Immortal Alliance Conference and everything that came after it. As much as he'd like to deny it, he is fucking Depressed™️ after all that. What's the point of eating Qing Jing's bland food when he doesn't have the protagonist's cooking anymore? So he returns to Shen Jiu's pattern of inedia

Can you imagine how Luo Binghe felt seeing how skinny his Shizun became in his absence? And of course, that gaunt version of Shen Qingqiu is the one whose corpse he preserved for five years, stuck in that hungry state. It doesn't escape me that he was always bringing a meal to corpsezun's bedside so on the off chance that he came back, the first thing he could do was eat Binghe's cooking

Basically what I'm saying is if you compare post-canon bingqiu to their PIDW counterparts, the most striking difference on first glance is that Bingge and Shen Jiu are skinny and rangy and miserable, and Bingmei and Shen Yuan are happy and healthy and well fed

[canisalbus]

(im sorry)

Vasco would change after Machete's death, I think. He'd always be a good, kind man, and in time his smile would return, but never with its old radiance. Sorrow would age him prematurely, and white would creep over his muzzle like clouds blocking the sun.

But perhaps he'd look in the mirror some nights, and run his fingers across the white fur with fondness, remembering the white fur that used to press against him once upon a time. A last reminder of his love, forever on his lips.

.

[dittanyinbloom]

MC: Sebastian! Please stop with this dark arts nonsense. You’re scaring the baby!

Sebastian: What? You’re with child?

Ominis, appearing out of the darkness unannounced: I’m the baby you absolute twat.

[leviiackrman]

SIMS 4 OC LOOKBOOK: Hatakes - Chika Hōki & Kakashi Hatake

Whoop whoop we have more ocs as sims! This time it’s my Konoha baddies living their best life in a modern treehouse (will be showcased room) but I hope you like them! Just picture them both practice fighting and then play fighting and then ffuuuccckkiiinnnn tehe

Ackermans || Rikihisas || Enatsu || Kyutoku || Olalias

Tag list (ask to be added or removed): @carrionsflower @statichvm @risingsh0t @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @kanos @bbrocklesnar @confidentandgood @unholymilf @florbelles @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @roofgeese @aezyrraeshh @faerune @tekehu @jackiesarch @minaharkers @sergeiravenov @carlosoliveiraa @rosenfey @nokstella @queennymeria @heroofpenamstan @alexxmason @tethrras @jamessunderlandgf @a-treides @solasan @bigbywlf @delzinrowe

[bythefurry]

"vincent valentine is a prettyboy" vincent valentine is a BASEMENT DWELLER who HASN'T WASHED HIS HAIR in 30 YEARS

[danceworshipper]

In the Shadow of Sebastian

Alexis and Ominis come to terms with the knowledge that Sebastian has gone too far off the deep end after killing his uncle, and make one of the easiest, yet most difficult decisions they've ever had to make. Alexis/Ominis, pre-ship. Hints of one sided Alexis/Sebastian and Ominis/Sebastian. Set immediately before The Choice at the end of Sebastian's quest line. Useful context: Alexis is a werewolf and an unwilling soldier for the Minister

It was cold in the Undercroft where they sat defeated, resting their backs against the stone wall and letting the chill soak through their robes. Cold, and still, and silent.

Alexis was grateful that Sebastian had left them alone. To hear anyone's heartbeat but Ominis' right now would have been too much. His, even, was testing her nerves, but at least Ominis' heart was slow and strong. Sebastian's hadn't stopped beating irregularly ever since he'd cast that blasted spell.

That heartbeat proved what Alexis already suspected: Sebastian was gone. Not physically, not really, but he was gone. He was a shadow of himself.

Broken.

Your first real kill hit you hard, as she had learned all too soon upon becoming a witch. Killing someone you knew was so much worse than killing a nameless enemy, or a dastardly foe who had earned it through wicked deeds. The adrenaline alone was enough to have you coming down for hours, but the guilt... Solomon Sallow had deserved a lot of things, but not this, and somewhere Sebastian knew it. He made a mistake that he couldn't take back. Now Anne, his one tether to sanity, was unwilling to be found, and he was lost.

Alexis never should have helped him.

"Ominis."

"Yes?" His voice was made rough from the tears she was kindly ignoring.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Alexis let her head hang. Ominis had warned her that this was going too far, and she hadn't listened. She hadn't even listened to Anne. Weren't Anne's wishes the only ones that should matter in a situation like this? Just because Alexis would never stop trying to cure herself didn't mean that that was what everyone would want.

"I understand, though," Ominis continued. "I'm to be blamed as well. I never put my foot down the way I should have. Salazar, we share a dorm room and I never even thought to check his belongings. I knew what he was doing; I simply couldn't deny him."

"He has that effect on you too?"

Ominis huffed, amused but deflated. "Has it not been obvious?"

It hadn't been, though Alexis couldn't truthfully say she'd ever thought about it - ever considered that maybe Ominis gave in too easily for someone as against the Dark Arts as he was. Now it was easy to see. Hindsight was always clear.

No, Alexis had never paid much attention to Ominis' actions, because she'd been far too concerned with her own.

I could teach you, Sebastian had said, three different times, and Alexis had said yes each time despite seeing what havoc the curses could wreak. Something about how he'd offered, so eager to have someone who understood the pull toward Dark Magic, had had her tracing the wand movements he showed her, greedy for his approval.

Eventually she would have learned them anyway, she supposed. Minister Spavin had plans for her. The dark creature, wielding the Dark Arts like no other could. She would never be locked in Azkaban for murder - so long as it was no one the Minister cared for.

Knowing that didn't make it better. In fact, she was certain it made everything worse.

Ominis inhaled shakily. "Aren't you supposed to be convincing me that we mustn't tell anyone what he's done?"

"I told him I would," Alexis said.

She turned her eyes toward him. His head was gently inclined toward her, but his eyes were downcast as he wiped at them. They didn't even work, yet they showed despair as well as anyone else's. Oddly, Alexis found it pretty.

"Well?"

She swallowed and remained silent. Sebastian had begged her, saying that Ominis listens to you. I don't know why, but he does. Yes, Ominis did listen to her, and that was a large part of the problem. Alexis knew without a doubt that if she said that Sebastian should walk free, he would. But did he deserve to?

It wasn't fair for him to be punished when she never would be. But...

"He won't stop," she said noncommittally. "He'll never stop until Anne is either cured or dead."

Ominis laughed, bitter. "Even when she's dead, he'll never stop."

He was probably right. Death be damned: Anne would know no peace.

"If only you could have seen the madness in his eyes, Ominis. I don't think I've ever been more frightened of him."

"Of him? Not for him?"

Alexis winced - of course Ominis had caught her slip. She sighed, and shook her head out of habit, though she knew he couldn't see. "No," she said, like a confession. "Of him."

Silence fell again. Alexis squeezed her eyes shut. Her clothes felt restrictive all of a sudden. She felt trapped, like she was back at the Ministry being held down. The blasted gloves were buzzing, stronger and stronger, responding to her distress and forcing her magic to freeze in her veins, and she reminded herself to breathe in, hold it, and breathe out, until the buzzing stopped.

That was the difference between her and Sebastian, she supposed. Self control had been beaten into her. Never would she cast a curse like that on impulse. Sebastian had proved he had no control whatsoever.

"You know," Ominis said slowly, "I'm not feeling very convinced."

In spite of the situation, Alexis choked on a shocked laugh. "I'm not making a good case, am I?" she asked.

The smile on his face was painful to look at with how close it was to breaking. If only she could fix it.

"You aren't," Ominis agreed. His voice cracked.

"I'm not sure there's any helping him," Alexis said, sobering. "If he never stops, who's to say he doesn't get worse? What if he hurts someone else? What if one day, he decides that if he kills her and reanimates her, she'll be cured?"

Ominis shook his head. "He'll get worse. I'm sure of it."

"Then we have to turn him in," she said, wishing she could convince herself otherwise.

"They'll throw him in Azkaban, Alexis," Ominis protested weakly. "He's close enough to adulthood that they'll do it. You've been to Azkaban, haven't you? Even if they give him a lighter sentence because of his youth, Sebastian will never be himself again, you know that."

Her visit to Azkaban with Helen Thistlewood had been a maximum of thirty minutes, but Alexis had felt that she'd never be the same - and she hadn't been the one behind bars. It had made her ironically grateful for her own imprisonment deep in the Ministry, with horrible people rather than Dementors. But that old woman in Azkaban had been innocent. Sebastian was not.

"We have to," she said again, and hated herself for it.

Ominis' head thunked against the stone. "I know," he whispered. His eyes squeezed shut - Alexis wondered if the pressure felt grounding or if blocking things out was simply a human instinct.

Whichever it was, she followed suit, pressing her knuckles against her eyelids until she saw stars and then having to yank them away, because the stars were a beautiful green that had crackled at the tip of Sebastian's wand for one long, long moment after he'd dropped it. It was a green that might be woven deep into her own soul by now, never to be cleansed.

"I should be in Azkaban too," Alexis said softly.

Ominis made a noise of distress. "Absolutely not."

"I've killed too."

"You've killed horrible people, Alexis, and you didn't do it of your own free will."

"The noble thing to do would be to refuse," she argued. "That's what Natty says."

"And be put to death?" Ominis exclaimed. "No. You should never be at fault for protecting yourself."

Alexis felt the corner of her mouth twitch, and she couldn't stop herself from pushing her luck. "The same logic doesn't apply to you, I see."

She turned her head to look at him. He knew, of course, what she was referring to. His mouth opened as though he wished to argue, but shut again. How could he? If there was no blame on her, there could be no blame on him.

Could they use the same logic with Sebastian?

Alexis desperately wished they could. If there had been a single sliver of worry that Solomon would have killed one of them first... but no. He had attacked them, hurt them badly, but she knew deep in her heart that he would have stopped when they fell. Getting them expelled and ruining their lives wasn't enough to deserve death. Even if it was, now Anne, cursed and miserable, had no one. That alone made the curse truly unforgivable.

The only instance that could be justified was the Cruciatus, since if Sebastian hadn't cast it in the Scriptorium, they all would have starved to death. Self preservation: simple, easy. The Imperius could have been justified under better circumstances, but Sebastian's logic had been flawed. He'd had ample time to react. He could have used any other spell to save Anne, but he hadn't.

I had to, he'd said.

You wanted to, she'd thought, but agreed with him anyway, because that was what friends did, wasn't it? Supported them in public to criticize them in private? She'd just never had the time until it was too late.

Ominis sobbed beside her, burying his face into his legs and shaking.

Alexis' heart ached. Before she could wonder whether he'd want to be touched, her hand was on his shoulder. He cried harder, leaning closer, and though Alexis was about to break too, she pulled him close to her and held him.

"He was my best friend," Ominis said miserably. The use of past tense sounded like the slamming of a cell door.

"I know," Alexis said.

By the end of the day, Sebastian would be taken away. It was over.

[rmelster]

With all due respect to the tribulations they faced, I don’t care if they went through a lot, once they had the power to, this characters pulled an awful move on people on a whim and that should be acknowledged.

[boxdstars]

the girlies are fighting

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[crimeronan]

months and months and months ago, WELL before any caleb canon except hollow mind was established, rafi and i were listening to my usual dramatic angst music in the car & "monsters" by shinedown came on & rafi said "you know, this could be caleb vibes." and i was like god i doubt this is his attitude at all given what he's like in the canon memories (hopeful, affectionate, forgiving, conflict-averse) but can you IMAGINE if he WAS a vengeful vicious ghost about everything???? that would FUCK SO ENORMOUSLY. OMG. EDGY AU NOW

anyway. this is no longer even an edgy song assignment. listen to it while thinking about caleb watching belos drag his dying goopy eldritch ass oozily across the ground it is. SO fun and choice. leave the light on if you're able cause we both know you're unstable :) call a doctor say a prayer choose a god you think is fair :) cause my monsters are real :) and they're trained how to kill :)))))))

[thecannibalroyal]

I need to know if there are any Pennyworth fans and by Pennyworth fans, I mean fans of whatever weird sexual tension was happening between these three

[silasbug]

pretty in lace.

[todayisafridaynight]

sexy watase hater here. And instead of spreading hate I will be spreading love for rgg5's daigo model... perfection really... and watase too he was gnarly looking.... amazing. And of course....unsexualized majima

literally obsessed with you dubbing yourself as 'sexy watase hater'. you right tho Y5 was cookin SOMETHING.......

[dwiankus]

After i heard Ominis's threat, i hope i could bite back

"I didn't know Gaunt Family sigil was a rat" or probably

"What is this? I smell stockholm syndrome from you?"

"Great, what the next part? Oh, i should to be scared of you? Or you could be crucio me? Should i prepared? Oh right, you still believe the BS don't want to part of your family, silly me"