#they know they hold all the power here and they use it to be unimaginably cruel

[stil-lindigo]

PALESTINIAN FAMILY FORCED TO RESTART FUNDRAISING - PLEASE DONATE!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

a little while ago, I was contacted by Amal Abushaban, a Palestinian mother of 5, for help regarding her Gofundme campaign.

In summary, after spending months raising over $13,000 for her family, she attempted to withdraw the money. She did everything right, she answered Gofundme's questions, she provided the details of her beneficiary and she contacted their support team - only to be left in the dark until an email came one day, notifying her that her campaign had been closed and all donations were now in the process of being refunded.

I tried kicking up a major fuss about it online, as well as trying to pester Gofundme Support on my own account, but all it did was send me in circles as I desperately pleaded for the Gofundme Support person I was assigned to at least re-instate the damn fund. Even worse, Amal got her first email today about refunds going through.

Regrettably, Amal is being forced to start over completely in her fundraising efforts. Her beneficiary has started this Paypal fund for her. Please donate and share!

PROGRESS: £520 / £35,000

[liberalk1tsch]

In honour of Katniss’ birthday yesterday, I invite everyone to also remember the real-life men, women, and children in Palestine enduring unimaginable suffering in the midst of an actual war. To be aware of the censorship being deployed against protesters of this violence by corporations at the hand of unjust governments.

As you may or may not know, on the 6th of May, Macklemore released a song called "HIND’S HALL" in support of Palestine, where 100% of proceeds from streaming will go to supporting UNRWA.

Hind Rajab was a 6-year-old girl from Gaza. In January 2024, she and her family were shelled by the Israeli army while in their car. Hind and her 15-year-old cousin, Layan Hamadeh, were the only survivors, trapped within the car. They called the Palestinian Red Cross Society, with Layan saying, "They are shooting at us. The tank is right next to me. We're in the car, and the tank is right next to us." The PCRS sent a team to rescue them. However, after 12 days, on February 10th, when the Israeli army withdrew from the area, Hind Rajab and her six relatives were found dead in the car, along with the two paramedics sent to rescue them, who were also found dead nearby.

The song is not available on Spotify yet. It is not available on Apple Music yet. It’s available only on Youtube, where—for the first time in the 15+ years i’ve been using Youtube—they have placed an 18+ age restriction on the video that includes multi-step age verification, where viewers must prove their age with a government ID, credit card, or submit a photo of themselves to an AI age recognition program (that oftentimes won’t even load).

This is absolutely abhorrent of Youtube/Google to censor this video, especially in the light of the recent attacks on Rafah, where thousands of Palestians have been cornered in what was previously considered the final "safe" zone.

Macklemore has since reuploaded a second video including audio only which has not been age restricted (yet), but the lack of imagery greatly alters the impact of his message. Many people may not feel comfortable verifying their identity to a corporation we know to be corrupt. Others may not be "old enough" to see it, though as the next generation of voters, as the primary group fighting for peace, you all deserve to see the truth of what’s happening in the world. I have screenrecorded the video and attached it to this post, but if there’s any of you who have already verified your age or feel comfortable doing so, please visit and interact with the original video here to contribute to aid efforts. If you are under 18 or do not wish to verify your age, the audio only video can be found here. Remember that your streams hold power, and even those who have nothing to give themselves can make an impact.

Additionally, most of the people who interact with my blog are Hunger Games fans. You were all outraged when the men, women, children, medics were bombed in the books, when it was fictional characters. So why would you stay silent when it’s happening in real life?

Free Palestine. 🍉

[the-nyanguard-party]

You harp on and on about "material reality" this and that, and then turn around and ask why the """yanquis""" don't just overthrow the government when the reality is that most of them are not in a position to do that at all. It's like you're expecting this people's march on the capital, but really all it'll be if it even happens is a left-wing version of January 6th. Not to mention the arsenal of Damacles hanging over every American's head in the form of threat of imprisonment, threat of debt, threat of death, threat of social exclusion, etc, etc, etc. Life is already hard enough for the people of this country, as impossible as it is for people like you to believe it. Don't heap more expectations onto them on top of everything else. We didn't ask to be born here, we didn't ask for our country to be the Great Satan that it is, and we certainly did not ask for our lives to be reduced to simplistic routines of home/work/vote in November.

And before you just choose to write up a snarky little comment about it, I don't expect Argentinians to "just" overthrow their government, either. I don't expect the people of any country to "just" be able to do that. I know it's a tall order no matter where you are, and every time it does manage to happen it is through a coordinated effort of some very capable people.

But at the same time, I'm not just going to sit here and read post after post of your takes that imply the American people are directly responsible for what their government does between takes that state that the American government has no incentive to listen at all. I don't care if you think a poor person in America holds more power than someone living in the third world, that they ""benefit from imperialism""", because that's so obviously wrong. Thinking like that is motivated by a desire to dehumanize innocent people in response to what their government does to innocents in other countries, and I'm going to call that out whenever I see it.

love the scare quotes around "yanqui." gotta make sure they know you don't respect the spanish language. since it makes you so mad i think i'm going to go ahead and use it as much as i can

the funny thing is the post that has you so mad was about a yanqui being mad that yanquis were being asked to be more anti-war. nobody was expecting yanquis to even start a civil war in the US but that was too much for yanquis. people in conditions of oppression unimaginable to yanquis have toppled empires

personally i don't expect anything of yanquis. as far as i'm concerned yanquis are never going to contribute anything to the communist and anti-imperialist movement until your empire is well into its downfall. feel free to prove me wrong, i'd love that

but thanks for all of this. you seem to have some very strong convictions about how random south americans are Dehumanizing yanquis on tumblr.com and this is a serious issue. maybe you should feel the same about your country's imperialism and go do something about it instead of bothering me, yanqui

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Chains of Destiny - Eva (Ch.1)

Summary: X-men including Logan, are being sent to retrieve a young mutant woman from a experiment facility. However, not everything goes as planned.

Content Warning: mean Logan, like he's actually a jerk here. Hurt, pain, angst (hell a lot of it), mentions of torture, experiments, violence, mentiones of suicide/wanting to die,

Author's note: So I actually planned on this series for a while. Not gonna lie Deadpool and Wolverine gave me a bit of a push to finally publish this series. Keep in mind that this does not take place during Deadpool 3 timeline. This series will have lots of angst so brace yourselves and I really hope you will all love it the same way I love writing it ❤️

Word count: 8 326

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of technology from the giant monitor hanging on the wall. Around the long, metallic table sat the core members of the X-Men—Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Jean Grey, Hank McCoy, and Logan, who sat at the far end, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he stared at the screen.

Charles Xavier sat at the head of the table, his hands folded in front of him. The image on the screen showed a grainy surveillance feed from the inside of the lab they were about to raid. It was dark, but even through the low-quality footage, they could see her—Eva. Curled up in a glass cell, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly ahead. Her small frame seemed fragile, but the readings from Cerebro painted a different picture entirely.

“She’s been in there for years,” Charles began, his voice calm and measured. “A captive, used as an experiment by a faction of scientists attempting to create new, enhanced mutants.”

Jean’s brow furrowed, her eyes full of concern. “They’ve been adding mutations to her, manipulating her DNA. That’s… unethical doesn’t even begin to describe it. How has she survived this long?”

“Barely,” Charles answered softly. “She’s had to endure unimaginable pain. Not just from the mutations, but from the emotional and psychological torment. One of her powers allows her to absorb the pain and injuries of others, healing them at her own expense. But it’s more than that. It’s not just physical. She absorbs their emotional damage too. She’s a living conduit for others’ suffering.”

Ororo closed her eyes for a moment, her voice thick with empathy. “No one should have to endure that. We have to help her.”

Scott nodded. “She’s a mutant, and she’s in danger. That makes it our responsibility to get her out of there.” 

Logan leaned forward in his chair, his face twisting into a scowl. “Hold on a second.” His voice was rough, laced with irritation. “You’ve read her file, Chuck. You know what she’s capable of. That kind of power? You really think it’s a good idea to bring her here? She’s a damn walking nuke. You touch her, and she’s in your head, messing with your emotions, maybe worse. That’s if she doesn’t blast you halfway across the room with her force repulsion or whatever the hell it is.”

Jean glanced at Logan, her brow creasing with concern. “She’s been through hell, Logan. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I get that,” Logan shot back, his voice sharp, “but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dangerous. You saw what happened in the last raid when we tried to bring in that mutant with the volatile powers. He almost brought the whole damn building down.”

“Eva isn’t a threat by choice,” Charles interjected, his tone steady, though there was a quiet firmness to it. “She’s been conditioned, pushed to her limits. The trauma she’s endured has caused her to lose control. But she is not beyond saving.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a growl rumbling low in his throat. “That’s the thing, though, ain’t it? Control. She’s got none. We storm that lab, and she could go off on us just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “and you know it. You’re askin’ us to walk into a situation where we don’t know if we’ll be able to handle her if she flips out.”

“Her powers make her volatile, yes,” Hank spoke up, his deep, thoughtful voice cutting through the tension. “But we’ve faced dangerous powers before. If we don’t act, she will continue to suffer. And from the looks of this lab, it’s only a matter of time before they push her to the breaking point. We have to try.”

“Try?” Logan scoffed. “What if trying gets us killed? Or worse—what if she turns into something none of us can handle?” 

Scott, who had been quiet until now, leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Logan. “We know the risks. But that doesn’t change our mission. We don’t abandon our own, especially not someone who’s been tortured like this.”

“Yeah, well, maybe this time we should think about it,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not one of us. Not yet. We don’t even know who she is.” 

“Logan.” Jean’s voice was soft but firm, a note of understanding in it. “You know better than anyone what it’s like to be taken and turned into something against your will.” 

Her words hung in the air like a weight, and for a moment, Logan’s scowl deepened. His hands clenched into fists, his claws threatening to extend. He hated being reminded of what had been done to him—of the experiments, the torture, the mind games that had turned him into a weapon. He’d spent years fighting to control the rage, to stop himself from becoming the monster they tried to make him. 

But this girl… she was different. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t hardened by battle, wasn’t tempered by a lifetime of violence. She was a raw nerve, and in Logan’s mind, that made her more dangerous than any enemy they’d faced.

“She’s not ready for this world,” Logan said, his voice lower now, but no less intense. “She’s not ready for what happens if she loses it. And we sure as hell ain’t ready for her.” 

Charles met Logan’s gaze evenly, unflinching. “I understand your hesitation, Logan. Truly. But this girl needs us. She’s been used and discarded, treated as nothing more than an experiment. If we don’t intervene, she’ll die in that lab. And if we leave her there, she may very well become the very thing you fear—a weapon. But if we bring her here, if we can reach her, she has a chance at something more. A chance to be more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

Logan grunted, looking away. He could feel the weight of the room’s eyes on him, but it didn’t change the knot of unease twisting in his gut. He didn’t trust this situation. Something about it felt wrong, and his instincts were screaming at him to walk away.

But the problem was, he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to turn his back, he couldn’t ignore the part of him that remembered what it was like to be the one trapped, the one without control.

Finally, after a long pause, Logan let out a rough sigh. “Fine. We go in, we get her out. But don’t expect me to play nice if she goes feral.”

Charles nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Logan. We’ll do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

Logan stood up from his chair, cracking his neck as he moved toward the door. “Yeah, well, let’s just hope I don’t end up regrettin’ this.”

As Logan stalked out of the room, Ororo exchanged a glance with Scott, who sighed softly. “He’ll come around,” Scott said, though there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“He always does,” Jean murmured, watching the door where Logan had disappeared. “Eventually.”

Charles sat back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the image of Eva on the screen once again. Her small, frail figure was a stark contrast to the power that resided within her.

“She will need time,” he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. “But I believe in her potential. She is more than what they’ve tried to make her.”

And with that, the plan was set. They were going to get Eva out of that lab. Whether or not she could ever be truly free from what had been done to her, though, was another question entirely.

*** 

They needed to act quickly. No one was here for now, but they didn’t when they would be back.

The sharp scent of antiseptic and cold metal filled the underground lab, the walls lined with sterile, reflective surfaces that amplified the clinical horror of the place. Logan led the way. His claws twitched within his knuckles, ready to spring at any moment. Behind him, Storm, Jean and Cyclops moved in silence, their eyes scanning the corridor for any threats. They had heard rumors of this lab—where scientists experimented on mutants—but nothing had prepared them for the twisted reality.

Then Logan's senses sharpened.

"She's close," he growled, his voice barely a whisper, yet thick with urgency.

The lab was dimly lit, sterile, and cold. The sharp scent of chemicals hung in the air, mixed with something darker—something that stank of pain and fear. The X-Men moved quietly, their boots silent against the sleek metal floors. 

“Chuck better be damn sure about this one,” he muttered under his breath, his fists clenched tight. “I ain’t buyin’ this ‘save the girl’ crap.”

Jean turned her head slightly, giving Logan a sharp look. “You know she didn’t choose this, Logan. She’s a victim.”

“Yeah? You tellin’ me she’s not dangerous?” Logan’s voice was a low growl, tinged with irritation. “Because I’ve seen plenty of ‘victims’ go off and take half a town with ‘em.”

“She’s a kid,” Storm cut in, her voice firm but calm. “She’s been tortured. She needs help.”

Logan rolled his eyes, his claws itching to come out. This whole mission felt wrong to him. Saving people? Fine. But saving a mutant who could, at any second, go berserk and tear them all apart? Not so fine.

“You’re all thinkin’ with your hearts,” he muttered, his tone harsh. “And that’s a good way to get us all killed. Just sayin’.”

Cyclops shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “We’re here to help her, Logan. If you can’t handle that, maybe you should’ve stayed at the mansion.”

Logan sneered, his lip curling. “Maybe I shoulda.”

But he didn’t. Despite every instinct telling him to turn around and walk away, he came along. Part of him didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way Charles had looked at him, that quiet conviction in his voice when he said, “She needs us, Logan.”

Logan had heard those words before. He’d been the one who needed saving once. And yeah, he’d been dangerous too. But it didn’t mean he had to like this mission—or trust this girl.

They rounded a corner and found a room that reeked of fear. Through a cracked glass wall, Logan saw her—huddled in the corner, shackled to a metal chair. Her appearance was fragile, like a broken bird too wounded to fly. Tangled hair fell over her face, and her body seemed emaciated, but the air around her pulsed with something dangerous. 

Logan’s stomach tightened as he looked at her. She was small, fragile-looking, her eyes hollow, like she hadn’t seen anything good in a long time. But that wasn’t what set him on edge. No, it was the raw power he could feel rolling off her in waves, even though the thick glass. She was a bomb. One wrong move, and she’d go off.

“Let’s get her out of there,” Cyclops said, moving toward the controls.

Logan bristled, stepping forward. “Wait. What’s the plan here, huh? We just let her loose, hope she’s all sunshine and rainbows?”

 “Logan,” Jean said, her voice steady, “we can calm her down. She’s scared. She’s not going to hurt us.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the last guy who thought he had a handle on a mutant with no control.” Logan’s voice was hard, his eyes narrowed. “That guy ended up in pieces.”

Cyclops sighed, clearly losing patience. “Logan, we didn’t come here to debate this. We came here to get her out. Stand aside.”

Logan didn’t move, his eyes locked on the girl. Something in his gut twisted, but he shoved it aside. “Fine,” he muttered. “But when this goes sideways, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

The glass door slid open with a low hiss, and for a moment, nothing happened. Eva didn’t move, didn’t even look up. She was still, like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for something worse to happen.

Jean stepped forward, her voice gentle. “Eva? We’re here to help you. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Logan snorted under his breath. Safe. Yeah, right.

Storm moved forward. "We’re here to help," she said gently, trying to project calm through her voice. Her hand moved to the console, disengaging the restraints that held the girl. The moment the locks clicked open, the girl lifted her head.

At first, Eva didn’t respond. But then her eyes flicked up, and Logan saw it—the fear, the confusion. And beneath it, a barely contained surge of raw, unchecked power..

Before anyone could say a word, Eva’s body tensed, and Logan’s instincts screamed at him. Something snapped inside her, a ripple of energy that exploded outward.

“Shit!” Logan barely had time to react before the force hit him, slamming into his chest like a freight train and sending him flying back into the wall with a grunt. The others were thrown back as well, but Jean managed to hold up a telekinetic shield just in time to soften the blow.

Logan hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him. His head spun as he pushed himself up, his vision blurry for a moment. “Goddamn it,” he snarled.

Cyclops struggled to his feet, his visor sparking. “Jean, calm her down, now!”

“I’m trying!” Jean said, her voice strained as she reached out mentally, but Eva’s panic was overwhelming. The raw emotions she absorbed from the team—fear, frustration, Logan’s anger—were feeding her powers, making them spiral out of control.

Logan gritted his teeth, claws snapping out instinctively. His healing factor allowed him to push through the pain, but it didn’t stop the girl’s attack. The forcefield around her shimmered, pulsating with her terror. She backed into a corner, eyes wide with an animalistic rage, and her breathing was ragged, panicked.

Logan got back on his feet, his body aching from the impact, but he was pissed now. “This is what I’m talkin’ about!” he growled, stalking forward, his claws gleaming. “You can’t control her!” 

Eva’s eyes darted wildly, her chest heaving as waves of energy pulsed off her, distorting the air around her. Her hands trembled, her face twisted in terror. She was completely out of control, her powers lashing out blindly.

"Stay back!" she screamed. "I don’t—don’t come near me!"

Logan pushed himself up, panting. "We’re not here to hurt ya, kid," he said, voice gruff but calmer than before, trying to anchor her in the chaos of her mind. But her eyes had already glazed over—she was lost to the overwhelming storm inside her.

“Eva!” Jean called, her voice soothing but desperate. “Please, you need to stop!” 

But it was no use. Eva couldn’t hear her over the roar of her own panic. 

Logan moved in, fast and low, dodging another pulse of energy that nearly sent him sprawling. His patience was shot, his temper flaring hot. He’d warned them. He’d told them this was a bad idea. And now this girl was about to bring the whole lab down on top of them. 

“Enough of this!” Logan snarled, charging at her with his claws raised. 

Eva’s eyes snapped to him, her panic morphing into raw fear, and without thinking, she thrust her hands out. A blast of energy hit Logan square in the chest, sending him flying back again, slamming into a steel pillar with a bone-rattling crash.

“Dammit!” Logan spat, coughing as he got back to his feet, his ribs screaming in protest. His vision blurred for a second, rage bubbling inside him. “I told you!” he shouted at Cyclops, who was trying to keep his balance. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

Eva staggered back, her body trembling violently. She looked at Logan with wide, terrified eyes, realizing what she’d done. She hadn’t meant to. She didn’t want to hurt him. But the damage was done.

Logan’s gaze locked on hers, filled with fury and mistrust. “You’re gonna kill us all, kid,” he growled, his voice rough, dripping with venom.

“Logan, stop!” Jean shouted, stepping between them. “You’re making it worse!”

“Worse? You think it can get worse than this?” Logan barked, his eyes blazing with anger. “She’s a loose cannon, and you’re all actin’ like she’s some poor helpless kid. She’s not! She’s a damn weapon!” 

Eva’s breath hitched, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn’t a weapon. She wasn’t a monster. But that’s all they saw, wasn’t it? That’s all she’d ever be to anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“Yeah?” Logan’s voice was sharp, cutting into her like a knife. “Well, you did.” 

Before Eva could respond, Storm stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. “Logan, enough.” 

Logan’s scowl deepened, but he backed off, his claws retracting with a sharp snikt. He shot an angry glare at Eva, his eyes filled with mistrust. “If you can’t control yourself, you don’t belong out here.” 

Eva’s heart clenched, her body trembling as she took a step back. The pain in Logan’s words cut deeper than any wound. She didn’t want to be this way. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But all she ever seemed to do was cause more pain.

A tidal wave of agony and fear threatened to consume her. Haunting recollections of torment, of relentless experimentation, surged through the maze of her mind. The harsh utterances of the man had become a ceaseless refrain since her arrival here. She was reduced to nothing more than an implement of warfare, forged for the benefit of others. Her emotions, her own inner turmoil, were inconsequential. She was bereft of care or compassion. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, a dam of pent-up emotion threatening to break. The potency of his words was such that it cleaved her to the quick, opening fresh wounds and exposing deeply buried insecurities in her already scarred heart. He needed to grasp the truth, he needed to comprehend the reality of her existence: she was no monster.  

Her presence here was not a matter of choice, but rather of necessity.

Without warning, she lunged at him. Her hand made contact with his arm, and suddenly, a flood of raw emotions poured into him. Fear. Pain. Desperation. The weight of all the suffering she had endured hit Logan like a punch to the gut. His mind reeled as her powers synced with his, letting him feel what she felt.  

The room distorted around him—her memories blurring into his thoughts. Logan saw flashes: needles piercing her skin, the cold, merciless faces of scientists, the endless nights spent in isolation. Every ounce of agony and torture she’d endured slammed into him, nearly buckling his knees. 

"Get out of my head!" Logan snarled, shaking her off. But it was too late—her power had taken hold, binding their emotions together like a knot. 

"Logan!" Cyclops shouted, firing a quick burst from his optic blast. The force knocked her back, but only momentarily. The girl screamed again, and this time her forcefield flared with blinding intensity, hurling them all across the room. 

Storm shot into the air, lightning crackling around her as she tried to contain the energy swirling around the girl. "We have to neutralize her, Logan—she can’t control it!" 

"I know!" he barked, struggling to regain his balance as another pulse of energy sent a chair crashing into the wall. His claws slid back into place. He could see it in the girl’s eyes—she wasn’t attacking them out of malice. It was terror. Pure, unbridled terror. But it didn’t matter. Right now, she was a threat. 

Logan moved toward her again, determined this time. "Listen, kid," he growled, "I know what they did to you. But we’re not them. You’ve gotta stop—" 

She didn’t. Her hand shot up, and suddenly Logan was on the floor, his ribs burning as her force slammed him again. But this time, before she could do more damage, a blinding streak of light shot through the air. Cyclops’ blast hit her square in the chest, knocking her unconscious. Her body crumpled, and the forcefield flickered out. 

The room fell silent. 

Logan dragged himself to his feet, clutching his side. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, shaking the lingering disorientation from his head. 

Storm knelt beside the unconscious girl, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "She's just a kid, Logan," she whispered.

"Doesn't change what she can do," he replied, his voice low and dangerous.

Cyclops approached cautiously, his visor still glowing faintly. "We need to get her back to the mansion. Charles might be able to help her... stabilize."

Logan glanced at the girl’s fragile form, her face calm in sleep but haunted by the shadows of what she had been through. Something in him twisted. She was broken, just like him—but there was something more dangerous about her. Something darker.  

"Maybe," Logan grunted. But his eyes lingered on her longer than he intended. He couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much they tried to help her, she was a ticking time bomb. And no one—not Charles, not the X-Men, not even himself—would be able to stop her if she went off again. 

Cyclops looked at Logan, as though sensing his unease. "You think we’re making a mistake?"

Logan snorted. "I don’t trust her." His gaze remained hard, unyielding. "And I don’t think she trusts us either." 

They gathered the girl carefully, carrying her out of the lab. But as they left the cold steel behind, Logan couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion in his gut. Something about her still clawed at his instincts. 

And Logan always trusted his instincts.

***

The X-Men team arrived back at the school in the early hours of the morning. The sky was still dark, the stars barely visible against the approaching dawn. The mansion loomed ahead, its windows softly illuminated by the interior lights.

Eva, awake already and restrained by the power-dampening cuffs, was guided through the front entrance. Her eyes were downcast, her steps slow and hesitant. She hasn’t talked much on their way back and no one was really in a talkative mood either. The only interaction Eva had was with Logan’s constant stare. 

The team moved with purpose but with an underlying tension. Logan walked alongside her, his jaw set and his eyes wary. 

As they reached the foyer, Charles Xavier awaited them in his wheelchair, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. He had been up all night, preparing for this moment. He wheeled forward to meet them, his gaze settling on Eva with a gentle, reassuring look.

“Welcome back,” Charles said softly, his voice warm. “I’m glad to see you’re all safe.” 

Logan, his eyes still fixed on Eva, grunted. “We got her here, but I’m telling you, this one’s a liability. Her powers are way out of control.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving Eva. “I understand your concerns, Logan. Eva, we’ll be taking you to the hospital wing for now. It’s important that we manage your powers and ensure everyone’s safety while we figure things out.”

Eva met Charles’s gaze briefly, her fear evident, but his kind eyes offered a small measure of comfort. She followed him and the team down the hall, her movements slow and cautious. 

As they approached the hospital wing, Charles turned to Logan, his expression thoughtful. “Logan, I know you’re worried. Her abilities are indeed formidable, and it’s natural to be concerned.” 

Logan’s brows furrowed, his frustration palpable. “Formidable? The girl almost killed me. She’s a risk, Charles. We don’t know what she’s capable of if she loses control again.” 

Charles placed a calming hand on Logan’s arm. “I understand. But she’s also a person who’s been through unimaginable suffering. We need to balance our caution with compassion. She’s scared and alone, and that’s why we need to approach this with care.” 

Logan shrugged off Charles’s hand, his gaze still dark. “Careful or not, we’re walking a tightrope here. One slip and we could all be in trouble.” 

Charles’s tone was firm yet soothing. “Yes, we are walking a tightrope. But remember, we have the means to help her, and we must give her a chance to prove that she can find control. We’ve faced dangers before, and we’ve come through. We will handle this situation with the same resolve.” 

Logan sighed heavily, his eyes narrowing. “Just keep her in check. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

“I will,” Charles said softly. “And we’ll do everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. But we also need to give Eva a chance to find her place here, just as we all had our own moments of struggle.” 

Logan’s gaze flickered to Eva, who was now being gently guided into the hospital wing by the staff. He didn’t say anything more, but the hardness in his eyes softened slightly.

Charles watched Eva as she was led to a bed, his concern evident. He turned back to Logan, a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you for your vigilance, Logan. It’s what makes you a valuable member of this team. And it’s what will help us find the best path forward for Eva.” 

Logan nodded curtly, his expression still tense. “Yeah, well, let’s hope you’re right.” 

Charles watched him leave with a thoughtful look. He knew that Logan’s fears were not unfounded, but he also believed in the power of empathy and understanding. For now, his focus was on Eva, ensuring that she felt safe and supported as she began this new chapter in her life. 

As the door to the hospital wing closed behind him, Charles took a deep breath, preparing to meet the challenges ahead with the same determination and compassion he hoped to instill in everyone around him.

***

Logan stood at the threshold of the med bay, his silhouette casting a long shadow on the floor. The hum of machines monitoring Eva’s vitals filled the quiet, sterile air. She lay in one of the beds, hooked up to a dozen wires, her frail body looking even smaller against the white sheets. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, her face pale and sunken, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked fragile—broken, even—but Logan knew better than to trust appearances.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white, his nails biting into his palms. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, bubbling up through his veins like molten steel, but it wasn’t the familiar kind of anger. It wasn’t the kind that came from a fight or from someone he hated. It was… different, raw and twisted, like a splinter lodged deep in his gut that he couldn’t pull out. 

Logan took a step forward, his boots heavy against the cold floor. His eyes never left the girl, even though something inside him told him to turn away, to leave. But he couldn’t. He had to face it—face her. 

“Why the hell am I still here?” he muttered under his breath, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. He didn’t know why, but something kept pulling him back. Maybe it was that look in her eyes when she’d blasted him across the lab, that raw fear and regret that hit him like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t meant to hurt him—not really. But that didn’t change what she could do. 

*She’s dangerous,* Logan thought, his teeth grinding together. *Too dangerous.* 

The med bay door slid open with a soft hiss behind him, and Jean stepped in quietly. She glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, then back to Eva. 

“She’s stabilized.” Jean said softly, her voice careful, as if she knew how close Logan was to snapping. “Her body’s been through a lot, but she’ll recover. Physically, at least.”

“Physically, huh?” Logan’s voice was low, a harsh rasp that betrayed the turmoil inside him. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Jean sighed, stepping closer to him, her gaze flicking between him and the girl. “I know you’re angry, Logan.”

“Angry?!” He barked out a bitter laugh. “Hell, Jean, I’m beyond that.” His eyes locked onto Eva, who lay still and silent, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. “She almost tore me apart. If I didn’t have my healin’, I’d be lyin’ in pieces right now. And it ain’t just me. She’s got enough power in her to wipe out this whole school if she loses it again.” 

Jean’s voice softened, but there was a firmness underneath it. “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Logan. She was scared. She still is.”

“I don’t care what she meant to do,” Logan growled, taking a step closer to Eva’s bed, his fists clenched. “What matters is what she can do. She’s outta control, Jean. And you’re tellin’ me you’re okay with keepin’ her here? Around the kids? You really want to risk that?” 

Jean didn’t respond right away, her eyes lingering on Eva’s small, fragile form. “She’s still young, Logan. A young girl who’s been tortured, experimented on. She didn’t ask for any of this.” 

“And what happens when she can’t keep it together?” Logan shot back, his voice harsh, laced with anger. “What happens when she lashes out again? You think the kids are safe with her around?” 

Jean’s silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her voice gentle but firm. “Logan, I know you’re worried. We all are. But we can’t just give up on her.” 

Logan’s face twisted, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with an intensity that made even Jean flinch slightly. “Maybe we should,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. 

The words felt like poison on his tongue, but part of him believed them. He didn’t want to hate her—hell, he didn’t even know why he did—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping her here was a mistake. A big one. It wasn’t just about what she’d done to him in that lab, or even what she was capable of. It was the feeling that clung to his skin like sweat whenever he looked at her—the feeling that she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. 

“Look, I get it, Jean,” he said, his voice a little quieter now, though still rough. “She’s a victim. But you can’t tell me that doesn’t make her more dangerous, not less. All that power, all that hurt… It’s a bad mix. She’s too damn powerful, and she’s got no control over it.” 

Jean opened her mouth to respond, but Logan cut her off. “You don’t get it,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “I can feel it. She’s unstable. You saw what she did without even tryin’. That’s the problem, Jean. She ain’t tryin’, and she still almost killed me. You really think it’ll be any different next time?” 

Jean’s eyes softened, but Logan could see the conflict in them. “She’s not beyond help. Charles thinks—” 

“Charles is a damn optimist,” Logan spat, shaking his head. “And maybe he’s wrong this time.” 

The room fell silent after that, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Jean didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either. She just stood there, her hands folded in front of her, looking at Logan like she was waiting for something—waiting for him to let go of the anger that twisted his face into something hard and unrecognizable. 

But he couldn’t. 

Logan’s eyes drifted back to Eva, lying there so still, so helpless. His gut twisted again, that strange mix of guilt and fury gnawing at him. He hated her. He hated the situation. And he hated himself for feeling this way. But every time he tried to shake it, tried to tell himself she was just another lost kid who needed help, all he could see was the blast of power that had sent him flying, the fear and confusion in her eyes as she lost control. 

*Too dangerous,* he thought again, clenching his fists. 

His mind raced. He couldn’t figure out why his anger was so fierce, why his hatred for this girl seemed so personal. Maybe it was because he’d been there—maybe not the same way, but close enough. Maybe it was because her powers were so raw, so unchecked, like his claws before he learned how to control them. Or maybe it was because he saw a reflection of himself in her—what he could have been, what he was still afraid he could become. 

Whatever the reason, it didn’t change how he felt. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t hurt someone again, someone who wasn’t as tough to bounce back as he was. 

“She’s too powerful,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jean. “She doesn’t belong here.” 

Jean took a step closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. “She’s scared, Logan. Just like you were once.” 

He jerked his arm away, glaring at her. “Don’t. Don’t make this about me. This is about her. She’s dangerous, and you know it.” 

Jean didn’t flinch, though her voice softened. “And so were you, Logan. But we didn’t give up on you. And I won’t give up on her.” 

Logan let out a rough sigh, turning away from her, his eyes fixed on the door now. He couldn’t stand being in that room any longer. Not with her lying there, not with all the anger boiling up inside him. His heart felt too heavy, weighed down by everything he didn’t want to feel. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Jean,” he muttered as he moved toward the door, his voice hard again, “you’re makin’ a mistake. And when it all goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

With that, he stormed out of the med bay, the door hissing shut behind him. But the knot of anger and guilt stayed with him, gnawing at his insides, refusing to let him go.

 ***

Eva's eyelids fluttered open to the soft hum of medical machinery and the muted light of early morning filtering through the blinds. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the occasional shuffle of footsteps outside. She blinked groggily, her mind struggling to piece together the events of the previous day.

The room was sterile and clinical, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh lab she’d known. Her wrists felt heavy, the power-dampening cuffs still securely fastened. As she shifted slightly, the soft rustle of the hospital bed linens reminded her of her vulnerable state. She winced, feeling the dull ache of yesterday’s emotional and physical turmoil.

She glanced around, trying to take in her surroundings. The walls were painted a soothing blue, and a small window offered a view of the gardens outside. It was a serene setting, but Eva felt anything but calm. The memories of her violent outburst and the fear in Logan's eyes replayed in her mind like a relentless loop.

Her breath quickened, and the panic spread. She tugged at the restraints, jerking her arms violently as she tried to free herself, but it was useless. The cuffs held firm, and with each tug, the fear inside her grew. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered what had almost happened—what she’d nearly done. 

"I could’ve killed them. I almost killed them." 

Her stomach twisted, and bile rose in her throat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She never wanted to hurt anyone, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was too dangerous, too unstable, and the more they tried to help her, the more they were at risk. Everyone was in danger because of her. 

Her thoughts spiraled, faster and faster, and for a brief moment, she considered ripping her own wrists raw against the restraints, breaking free just to get as far away as possible. She couldn’t stay here. She didn’t belong here. She shouldn’t even be alive. 

Her body shook as the realization hit her. She didn’t want to live like this anymore. Every breath felt like a burden, every second a threat to those around her. 

"Why didn’t they just let me die?" 

Before she could spiral further, the door to the hospital wing hissed open, and heavy footsteps echoed through the sterile room. She stiffened, her eyes darting toward the figure who entered. 

It was him. Logan. 

He crossed the room with that familiar roughness, his boots heavy on the tile floor. His face was hard, expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw and the simmering anger in his eyes told her all she needed to know. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t trust her. And she couldn’t blame him. 

Logan stopped at the foot of her bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her. "You awake, then?" His voice was gruff, biting, as if the mere sight of her irritated him. 

Eva didn’t respond at first, her eyes still wide with fear. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, the weight of the handcuffs pressing into her skin. Her throat tightened, but she managed to whisper, “Why… why am I still here?” 

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. "Good question. I’ve been askin’ myself the same thing." 

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill over, but she swallowed them down. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” 

Logan’s eyes flashed, and he took a step closer. “That’s the problem, kid. You didn’t mean to, but you did. Almost tore me apart, nearly killed everyone in that damn lab. Hell, if you’d gone all the way, this whole place could’ve been rubble by now.” His voice was low, dangerous, each word dripping with the frustration he was barely holding back.  

Eva’s chest tightened, guilt flooding her system. “I don’t know how to control it,” she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it." 

Logan’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, his eyes grew colder, harder. “That’s the point, isn’t it? You can’t control it. So why the hell should we trust you? Why should we risk the kids, the people in this school, just because you’re scared?” 

Tears finally spilled over, and Eva shook her head, feeling the weight of his words crush her. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be alive!” Her voice was desperate, her entire body trembling. “You’re right, okay? I’m a danger to everyone, and I know it. You should’ve let me die.” 

Logan’s face twitched, just for a second, and something flashed in his eyes—something almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that same hard, cold mask. “Maybe,” he muttered. “Maybe we should’ve.” 

His words hit her like a slap, and Eva turned her head away, unable to look at him anymore. Her chest heaved with sobs, the weight of everything pressing down on her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Just then, the door to the med bay slid open again, and Charles Xavier entered, his wheelchair moving silently across the floor. The tension in the room shifted, and Logan stepped back slightly, though his posture remained rigid.

Charles’s voice was soft, calming, as he approached the bed. “Eva,” he said gently, his eyes kind as he looked at her. “You’re safe now.” 

“Safe?” Eva’s voice was bitter, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. “How can you say that? I almost killed him.” She nodded toward Logan. “I could’ve killed all of you. I’m not safe. Not for you, not for anyone.” 

Charles’s expression remained calm, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “We understand that you’ve been through unimaginable pain. But you’re not beyond help, Eva. We can work with you, teach you how to control your powers. You don’t have to go through this alone.” 

But Eva shook her head violently, panic rising in her throat. “You don’t understand. They’re going to come for me. The people who did this to me, they’ll come back. And if I’m here, they’ll destroy everything in their way. You’ll all be in danger because of me. I—” Her voice broke, and she lowered her head, trembling. “Please… please just kill me. End it. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” 

Logan’s jaw clenched at her words, his anger bubbling up again. He wanted to snap at her, to tell her how selfish it was to think death was the answer, how ridiculous she sounded. But instead, he stood there, watching her break down, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of something else. Pity, maybe. Regret. He hated it, but it was there. Deep down.

For a moment, he saw himself in her—the same lost, broken thing, unsure of his place in the world. And it twisted something inside him.

Charles leaned forward, his tone soft but firm. “We don’t give up on anyone, Eva. You have a home here, if you choose to stay. We will help you, as long as you let us.” 

Eva shook her head again, tears streaming down her face. “I’m too dangerous. You’re making a mistake.” 

Logan exhaled sharply, stepping forward. “Maybe we are,” he growled, his voice cutting through the air. “But that’s not your call to make. You wanna give up? Fine. But Charles is right—we don’t give up on people here. So you’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”

His words hung in the air, and Eva stared at him through tear-filled eyes. She didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved, but all she felt was the crushing weight of guilt and fear. She wanted to believe they could help her, but deep down, she wasn’t sure anyone could.

And that terrified her most of all. 

Eva’s tears soaked into the hospital pillow, and for a moment, the room was thick with silence. She couldn’t shake the terror clawing at her chest. Charles’s kind words barely registered through the haze of guilt and fear. Every instinct screamed to get away, to run before she hurt someone again. But the restraints around her wrists, humming with the suppression of her powers, kept her pinned to the bed, a prisoner to her own body.

Logan stood by the door, arms crossed, his expression dark. He had always been a difficult person to read, but right now, his anger was crystal clear. He didn’t want her here. He’d made that painfully obvious. Part of her agreed with him. She was too dangerous. Even if Charles promised help, what could they really do? 

She had almost killed them. All of them. Logan, especially, and he wasn’t going to forget that anytime soon.

Logan broke the silence first, his voice sharp and cutting. "You think just 'cause we say we’ll help, that’s some kinda ticket outta responsibility? That you can just sit back and let us fix you? You’ve gotta want it. And I don’t think you do, kid."

Eva flinched at his words, her face contorting in pain. His anger wasn’t just justified—it was expected—but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. She turned her head away, unable to look at him.

"I don’t want anything," she whispered. "I just want to disappear."

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his frustration clearly boiling over. He took a step closer to the bed, his voice rising. "You think you’re the only one who’s been through hell? You think you’re special ’cause they did some experiments on you? Join the damn club." He jabbed his thumb at his own chest, his scowl deepening. "I’ve been there. I’ve done all that, and guess what? I didn’t get a choice. So don’t you stand there askin’ us to give up on you just ‘cause you’re scared."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and Eva’s tears flowed harder. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had been through hell, yes, but she didn’t have his strength. She couldn’t fight it the way he had. Her powers were out of control, and she was too weak, too broken to even try.

“I can’t control it,” she choked, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop it. You don’t understand. They built me to be a weapon. I’m a ticking time bomb, and sooner or later, I’ll explode again.”

Logan clenched his fists, his knuckles white as the words hit him. He hated how familiar it all sounded, hated how much of his own past he could hear in her voice. But he couldn’t let that soften him, not when the stakes were this high. Not when she could destroy everything they’d built here, everything they protected.

 “I get it, alright?” Logan growled. “You’re scared, and yeah, maybe you’ve been turned into a weapon, but that doesn’t mean you get to give up. You’re here now, and if you’re gonna stay, you better start fightin’ for somethin’ other than your damn self-pity.”

Eva trembled, her wrists pulling at the restraints as if she could somehow claw her way out of this nightmare. “I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I should’ve died in that lab. It would’ve been better for everyone.”

Logan’s face tightened, a growl building in his throat. His anger, which had been simmering on the surface, was threatening to break loose. But before he could unleash another biting remark, Charles raised a hand, his voice calm but firm.

"Logan," Charles said gently, his gaze shifting from the girl to the man, “perhaps we should ease up.” 

Logan shot Charles a sharp look, but there was something in the Professor’s eyes that made him pause, though the tension in his body remained. He backed off a step, arms still crossed, but the scowl stayed firmly in place. His anger wasn’t gone—it was just barely contained. 

Charles turned his attention back to Eva, his voice soft and steady, the same calm she’d heard from him before. But this time, it pierced through her haze of fear just a little. 

"Eva," he began, "I understand why you’re afraid. I can’t pretend to know the extent of your pain, but I do know this: you are not alone. You are not the first person to feel like their powers are too much to bear, and you won’t be the last. This place, this school, is for people just like you." 

Eva shook her head, tears still streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. It’s not just me. The people who did this—they’ll come back for me. They’ll come for all of you. You’ll be in danger because of me.”

Charles’s expression didn’t waver. “We’ve faced threats before, Eva. But we believe in protecting those who cannot protect themselves. No one here will abandon you, no matter how great the risk.” 

“Maybe you should,” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “Maybe it’d be better if you did.” 

Logan scoffed from the corner, his patience thinning. "Maybe she’s got a point. You’re gambling a lot on someone who’s not even sure she wants to be saved, Charles. She could bring this whole place down." 

Eva flinched again at his words, her heart aching with the weight of them. He was right. What was the point of trying to help her if she didn’t even know if she could be helped?

But Charles, as always, remained resolute. 

“I know the risks,” Charles said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority. “But I also know that we must give her a chance. Eva, if you stay here, we will do everything in our power to help you gain control. You can have a life, a real life, outside of the torment they put you through.” 

Eva swallowed hard, her chest tight. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to, but the fear was too overwhelming. What if she couldn’t control it? What if Logan was right, and she was just too dangerous to be here? 

She shook her head, the tears never stopping. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s even possible.” 

Charles leaned closer, his eyes filled with the kind of kindness she hadn’t seen in a long time. “We will help you find out. But first, you must give yourself that chance.” 

Eva’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at the Professor, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was offering her a lifeline, but could she trust herself to take it? 

Her eyes drifted to Logan, still standing with his arms crossed, his face hard. He looked at her like she was a threat, like she didn’t belong here. And maybe she didn’t. Maybe he was right.

But part of her wanted to fight. Just a small part, buried beneath all the pain and fear, but it was there, flickering weakly.

“I don’t… I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

Charles smiled gently. “You start by staying. By trusting us.” 

Logan scoffed again but said nothing, though his eyes bore into her, still filled with distrust. But for a fleeting second, something flickered in his gaze. Maybe it was pity, or maybe just the faintest trace of understanding. Either way, it didn’t last long, quickly replaced by the cold mask of doubt. 

Eva closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She didn’t know if she could trust them—or herself. But for the first time in a long time, she had a choice. She could choose to run. Or she could choose to stay and try. 

It was the scariest choice she’d ever faced.

[bitethedevil]

I think that Raphael could be able to take over the Nine Hells.

“Raphael is biting over more than he can chew with his plans to take over the Nine Hells.”

“If the Crown of Karsus was so powerful why wouldn’t Mephistopheles have already used it?”

*Puts on my tinfoil hat* shhhh, come here…hear me out.

If you’ve read the Annals of Karsus, we know that there are three artifacts that are known as “The Regalia of Karsus”. There is the Crown, the Orb, and the Scepter and they are ‘the physical embodiments of Karsus’s wizardry’. Each of the three artifacts have their own power and purpose (this is directly quoted from the Annals of Karsus):

“The Crown of Karsus: to attract and absorb magical knowledge and give the wearer dominion over himself so that he remains his own entity apart from the Weave.

The Orb of Karsus: a storage device or battery that condenses mystic power, ever-gathering so that it must be syphoned at intervals of its excess.

The Sceptre of Karsus: an instrument of projection, a focusing utensil for the precise wielding of unimaginably vast forces.”

We know where the Crown has been: In Mephistopheles archive and later stolen by the Chosen Three.

The Orb?: Sounds a lot like what Gale deals with, but from what I can read, people disagree about whether that is the Orb of Karsus.

The Scepter of Karsus, though, is heavily hinted at to be owned by Raphael. I don’t have the exact quotes, but if someone does feel free to share them. The archivist says something about a scepter that is like the crown being in the collection and I believe Helsik talks about Raphael collecting Karsite artifacts.

If Raphael DOES own the Scepter of Karsus, it makes even more sense why he is so pissed at papa Meph. He owns an incredibly powerful magical artifact of ‘unimaginably vast forces’, but he isn’t able to actually use it and wield it because Mystra would stop him in a heartbeat. He needs the Crown to separate himself from the Weave to actually use it.

Let’s quickly talk about another Scepter from Netheril: “The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings”. Its purpose was to strip the power of gods and banishing their influence from Netheril, but the guy (not Karsus, some other really powerful wizard) never completed it because the Netherese gods stopped him. The scepter, however, could not harm deities that had magic within their control (such as Mystra). But we can all agree that this all sounds very similar to the exact same thing that Karsus would attempt years later? The Scepter of Karsus and the rest of the Regalia of Karsus was even more powerful than The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings since it could not only steal the power of Mystryl but also transfer it to the wielder.

Let’s go back to the Hells. Mephistopheles keeps the Crown in his vault and doesn’t use it for a millennium. Why? We have established that the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge, and it also separates the wielder from the Weave. The Crown in itself seems powerful, but as many have also said about Raphael, it hardly seems enough to take down Asmodeus in itself.

What if…*adjusts my tinfoil hat* What if the Netherese truly learned nothing and history repeats itself as always, and it is in fact these mentioned ‘unimaginably vast forces’ of the Scepter that is the key to overthrow gods and steal their powers, and not the only Crown. The Crown simply assures that the wearer’s magic is out of reach from Mystra so they can do whatever they want, and it grants knowledge. Meaning, if Raphael has at least both the Scepter and the Crown, he could steal Asmodeus’s powers and go through with what his father could not achieve because his mischievous little son has been holding onto Scepter that is necessary to even wield and project those powers. He would become be the ruler of the Nine and gods know what else. It's not entirely out of the question that he might even have the Orb as well, seeing as we aren't really sure if Gale's Orb is the Orb.

Again, the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge and it’s the key too using all of this naughty magic that Mystra doesn’t want you to mess with, but it does not seem like it actually gives you a whole lot of powers. It essentially just makes you know about it. What if the truly nasty stuff lies in the Scepter? It seems at the very least that the Scepter is necessary to truly harness and project the powers of the rest of the Regalia with any sort of precision.

(If you have any additions or corrections to my insane ramblings, feel absolutely free to add them and I’d love to read them)

[saintsenara]

I come to you with this question because, having read all your other metas, I think you'd be the right person to ask. Id love to know what you think about Regulus because I have a very hard time understanding his character. Partly because of fanon characterization of him makes him seem like some secret rebel against Voldemort and partly because I just can't really understand any of his motivations. But regardless, I think what we know about him in canon is so interesting - i just can piece it all together. I'd love to know what you think!

(Sorry for the longish ask)

thank you very much for the ask, @hauntingpercival! regulus is a character i also find a bit of a mystery, and so thinking through this answer was really fun.

i'll start by being clear that i'm certainly not a regulus fan. by which i not only mean that i don't vibe with the fanon!regulus of the marauders fandom, who is essentially an original character - and you can read my views on jegulus here... [spoiler alert: i do not back it] - but that when he appears in my own writing in ways i'd like to hope feel influenced by his canon form, i always find myself focusing on aspects of his character which are rather unlikeable.

there is a little bit of a discourse-y reason for this, which will be pertinent to the rest of this answer...

i really don't like the sort of "omg aristocracy is so hot and sexy and interesting" tropes which are so prevalent in writing around the black family. this is firstly because i don't think that aristocracy is in any way these things - and i find it distasteful to imply otherwise - which is because i'm a prole who lives somewhere still bearing the scars of british colonisation who also went to the sort of university where one sometimes encountered aristocrats and they were all cringe and unbearable.

but it's also because it's not - and i will genuinely die on this hill - an accurate reflection of how the blacks are presented in canon. not only does it take sirius' comment that his parents considered themselves "practically royal" to be a statement of fact [sirius is quite clearly taking the piss out of his parents' pretensions], but it also misses that the purpose sirius' discussion of orion and walburga's politics serves in the narrative of order of the phoenix is to show how mainstream their blood-supremacist views were.

sirius tells us that his parents were not death eaters, but that they nonetheless thought voldemort's overtly sectarian political aims were correct. in this, they hold the political views order of the phoenix emphasises belong to cornelius fudge - unimaginative, deferential to the class system, casually prejudiced, and so on. orion and walburga function as a way of showing us just how entrenched the death eaters' manifesto is, how close voldemort came to winning the first war, and what an uphill struggle the order faces to unravel the roots blood-supremacy has in the wizarding world.

[and they also show that the baffling vibes of grimmauld place - while these are made worse by it being three different gothic literature tropes in a trenchcoat - are wizarding norms, rather than evidence that the blacks were uniquely immersed in dark magic. the decor at grimmauld place - and the family's collection of dark artefacts - is the same as that found in malfoy manor, even at a time when lucius malfoy is considered eminently socially respectable. this is a point we will come back to...]

i think, then, that it's crucial to approach regulus not as a swaggering aristocrat, but as someone from an upper-class background which - while still posh, rich, inferring enormous social capital, well-connected - was unremarkable within the circles in which he moved.

by which i mean that hogwarts is based on real-world institutions - britain's elite boarding schools - which are so exclusive and expensive to attend that the student body are from a class-background which seems inhumanly exclusive, affluent, and powerful from an outsider perspective [i.e. from the perspective of someone from the majority middle- and working-classes] but which seems completely normal within the student body itself.

[i.e. nobody at eton with princes william and harry will have been astonished to have been at school with a royal, because they will have been familiar with their social circles, cultural experiences, level of wealth, and expectation of knowing someone with considerable social influence from childhood.]

while hogwarts appears to be a state-funded school [although it also expects an enormous amount of financial investment on the part of parents - such as buying all the textbooks], the fact that its real-world parallels are so elite [and, therefore, come with a specific "look" in the british cultural imagination] means that the student body is incredibly well-heeled and working-class students stand out enormously in a way very rich students do not. hogwarts also exists - like real-world elite schools and universities - as a way of propping up the status quo of the class system by which the wizarding world functions. its pupils have an expectation of procuring jobs in the civil service and other influential professions - using not only connections established at school but connections they possess through their [male] relatives. many hogwarts students we meet in canon are related to someone who occupies an elite position in the wizarding executive or is otherwise socio-politically influential.

at school, then, regulus would have been completely, perfectly average in terms of social position. i also like the idea of him as perfectly average in terms of intellect - and as a good, but not exceptional, seeker. this provides a really interesting point of contrast with sirius, who - while he's also not socially unusual in terms of class [and i will never vibe with tropes like him being followed by whispers going "omg, he's a black, that means he's important"] - stands out in that he's the first black in generations not to be in slytherin, that he's precociously intelligent, and that he - and the rest of the marauders - are class clowns and show-offs.

and i like the idea that this would give regulus a desire to stand out - to be considered the most important person in the whole school. we can get a hint of this in canon - the picture of sirius and his friends harry sees in deathly hallows is immediately contrasted with a picture of regulus sitting in the seeker's position in the team photo. the seeker who acts alone.

and i think this desire for notoriety is what drives him to sign up to become a death eater - that he decides he's sick of having parents with the perfectly normal level of social influence and a brother who is more popular than him, and that he thinks that he's cleverer and more worthy of attention than everyone else in the castle and the world better start showing it.

[and i've never bought - i'm afraid - the idea that he and sirius are close. it's clear from canon that regulus had no issue being thought of as "a much better son" than sirius, and that he colluded with his parents against him. sirius can love him - and miss him, and regret how they were never able to repair their relationship - but i don't think this means that he feels he's lost a bestie.]

that he holds sincere blood-supremacist views is a given - because within the world in which he lives, these are completely normal and held completely casually [i.e. that slughorn is shocked lily could be muggleborn because she's clever]. the more virulent expression of these views - saying "mudblood", etc. - is clearly considered ill-mannered, but not something which might have any real impact on one's social standing [draco malfoy uses the term with impunity while at school, and nobody ever considers that informing a teacher of this would result in him being punished; equally, nobody from the crowd who witness the event reports snape for calling lily a mudblood].

and so i think it's clear that he becomes interested in joining the death eaters - and starts putting together his terrorism pinterest board - because his mainstream belief that being pureblood is better crashes into his desire to be special to form a conviction that riding the coattails of voldemort's ostentatious malevolence is the way he can become famous.

[in this, he is very like snape.]

my assumption is that regulus is one academic year below sirius, meaning that he was born in 1960-1961. my assumption is also that he receives his dark mark while still at school - probably at some point in his newt years [so the academic years 1977-1978 and 1978-1979].

the standard view - expressed vehemently by various order members in half-blood prince - is that voldemort has no interest in death eaters who are still at school.

the order is wrong about this, obviously - not only when it comes to their refusal to accept that harry's right about draco malfoy being marked, but also in the fact that several of the death eaters who are very young at the end of the first war, barty crouch jr. [who is still young enough to be described as a "boy" in 1982 at the earliest], chief among them, must have been taken on by voldemort prior to graduating.

but it seems fair to say that admitting teenagers into his inner circle is unusual for voldemort, especially when those teenagers don't really offer him anything useful. crouch, for example, could be put to work informing on his father's movements. regulus is - as i've said - just ordinary.

and so my view has always been that regulus is marked by voldemort as a favour to bellatrix. i think this partially because i'm bellamort trash, partially because i think it's a nice narrative parallel between regulus and draco [who are very similar] to have bellatrix be responsible for regulus' recruitment when she's canonically vociferously in favour of draco's, and partially because realising that voldemort thinks of him as just some guy who warrants [essentially] a pity dark mark would be a big blow to regulus' conviction that joining the death eaters would make him impressive.

[i also think regulus is recruited before 1978 because i think there has to be a shift in voldemort's modus operandi at about this point, in order for the fact that sirius says that his parents got cold feet about what the dark lord was prepared to do after regulus became a death eater to make sense. my view has always been that voldemort's violence prior to c.1978 overwhelmingly targets state institutions and people connected to them and/or people with known anti-voldemort political views, meaning that ordinary citizens can regard these people being killed or injured as reasonable risks of their jobs and/or behaviour. and then that after c.1978, the dark lord begins targeting civilians - including upper-class pureblood civilians - indiscriminately, which makes his casual supporters start to waver a bit.]

so, let's suppose that regulus leaves hogwarts in june 1979 and finds himself expected to participate as a full death eater, after having been let off all the dirty work by virtue of being at school...

as i've said, regulus has an enormous number of narrative parallels with draco malfoy. and i think that the best way to think about him is to write him as sharing draco's canonical attitude to voldemort's cause - that he believes whole-heartedly in the message of blood-supremacy the dark lord promotes and that he has no problem with people he considers subhuman [mudbloods and blood-traitors] or unimportant [faceless families massacred in their own homes] being subjected to violence in the name of that message, but that he lacks the character traits necessary to perform that violence himself, to see it done to people he likes, or to witness what it actually involves versus the image he has of it in his head.

and so i imagine he starts struggling pretty quickly with the fact that being a death eater isn't quite as easy as he thought it would be when he was making voldemort fancams on tiktok. and that part of the reason he's primed to turn against the dark lord is because of the tension he feels warring within him at the fact that he's still a blood-supremacist, still desperate to be important, and yet growing disenchanted.

i don't however, think this is why he does what he does... so let's get into that:

why does regulus turn against voldemort?

let's be clear about one thing - regulus turning against voldemort has nothing to do with him having some sort of damascene conversion against blood-supremacy.

[or, at least, that's what i think.]

the outline of regulus' defection that we get in canon goes as follows:

voldemort asks someone to lend him a house elf. we know that regulus volunteers kreacher, because he told kreacher so - and so i imagine voldemort mentions at a meeting that he wants to procure an elf [although, of course, he doesn't elaborate on why] and regulus immediately jumps up and says "pick me, my lord" because he sees this as an opportunity to get voldemort to finally notice him.

his assumption must be that voldemort will use kreacher for a purpose which is considered normal in wizarding society - i.e. that he will require him to do something akin to domestic service, perhaps preparing potions ingredients.

it evidently does not occur to him that voldemort would transgress this social boundary and harm kreacher. not - to be clear - because i think that regulus was some kind of abolitionist legend, but because we see several characters express the view in goblet of fire that how barty crouch sr. treats winky is his own business, and that it is impolite for respectable wizards to comment on how anyone else treats his slave. this sort of social behaviour will have a second part - that it is impolite for respectable wizards to treat anyone else's slave in a way which goes beyond what wizarding slaveowners see as normal.

or: that it's fine to be lent a slave to serve you, but very much not fine to nearly kill that slave [someone else's property!] for your own gain.

kreacher informs regulus what voldemort asked of him, which makes regulus suspicious about what the object voldemort deposited in the cave was. regulus then decides to investigate.

kreacher tells us that regulus goes away for an indeterminate period of time and then returns to grimmauld place "disturbed in his mind".

dumbledore claims in half-blood prince that voldemort appears not to wear or display the objects the horcruxes are made from after he turns them into horcruxes. i think we can agree with this or not without it affecting the story - i quite like the idea that voldemort doesn't make the locket until the later 1970s [maybe after the murder of dorcas meadowes, the only person in the first war other than james and lily to have canonically been killed by him personally], but we can also say that he might have worn or displayed it when it was already a horcrux. certainly, regulus must have seen the locket - either on voldemort or somewhere in his lair - and, after kreacher tells him what happened, he goes to see if it's still there.

when he discovers it isn't, he comes to an important conclusion. one which requires a little detour...

how does regulus know what a horcrux is?

i complained at the start of this answer about the black family being portrayed as unusually immersed in the dark arts - rather than some sort of familiarity with the dark arts being perfectly normal for people of their social class.

and i am sure that you might think I'm about to have to eat my words, since i'm not going to try and deny that regulus was able to identify a horcrux all by himself...

but, actually, i'm just chucking malevolently at the opportunity to clamber onto my soapbox and say:

horcruxes are canonically not magic which only a handful of people know about. where voldemort goes beyond the theory of horcruxes which a wizard of regulus' class-background would be familiar with is that he makes seven.

this doesn't mean - to be clear - that i think it was ever common to make a horcrux [i don't think the wizarding world is quite that lawless...], but that it was reasonable to know they exist, in the way that we might have some general understanding of something macabre - like techniques for disposing of a body - which would enable us to suspect if we saw a neighbour behaving strangely while doing one of those things...

after all, slughorn can suggest [even if he doesn't believe this is what he wants to do] that voldemort could justify his interest in horcruxes by using the excuse that he's working on a project for defence against the dark arts.

that harry, ron, and hermione don't know about them is a result of a combination of their own lack of interest in the theory of the dark arts, the information blackout instituted by dumbledore at some point after voldemort graduates [and my theory as to why dumbledore hates horcruxes even in the forties? grindelwald made one - hence why dumbledore is so hopeful at king's cross that the rumours of his repentance might have been true...], and the fact that they don't discuss their mission with anyone [tonks, kingsley, and moody, who literally have to specialise in dark objects as part of their jobs, would one hundo have known what a horcrux was].

[what they would not have known is what voldemort's horcruxes were likely to be made of and where they were likely to be. it's this - rather than the idea that horcruxes are completely unknowable magic - that is why it has to be harry in charge of hunting them down: he's the only person in the series who knows voldemort well enough to realise that, for example, he'd have hidden one in gringotts because of his jealousy at being excluded from this pillar of wizarding normality.]

so, regulus has a little rummage, works out the locket has disappeared, and has no trouble - especially because voldemort mentions in goblet of fire that he'd told his death eaters he couldn't die [which regulus might not have thought was him speaking literally] prior to 1981 - guessing what it's being used for.

and so, regulus turns against voldemort.

and i think that he does this because the horcrux makes it impossible for him to pretend any longer that voldemort's aims are - when the ministry is forced to the negotiating table by his paramilitary activities - an oligarchy in which upper-class pureblood families benefit and muggleborns and blood-traitors become second-class citizens, but which doesn't deviate too much in terms of its overwhelming norms from the way wizarding society functioned at that time. instead, he is confronted with the undeniable fact that voldemort intends to reign forever as an immortal absolute monarch, and that he has never had any intention of elevating regulus and people like him to the positions of importance he so craved.

[we see something similar happen to draco, whose increasing fear of voldemort throughout half-blood prince and deathly hallows is clearly driven by him realising that voldemort isn't joking when he says that he'll kill him and his parents unless he obeys orders, but is joking when he says he'll be considered a valuable servant should he manage to kill dumbledore...]

and so his death - and his threat to destroy the horcrux - is a repudiation of his beliefs. but, specifically, it is a repudiation of his conviction that voldemort was a primarily political figure who would act as a champion of the pureblood class-system. it's him recognising that voldemort would not stop with a takeover of the ministry - he would kill and kill forever, concerned only with how much further he could venture beyond the norms of magic.

[lexsssu]

Divine (Arjuna Alter | Berserker)

TAGS: Arjuna Alter/Dragoness!reader, pining, heats/ruts, pheromones, knotting, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

From the moment he is summoned in Chaldea to assist humanity’s last master, Arjuna ( Alter ), the culmination of the Indian pantheon and former opponent of said master knew what his purpose was.

He is a weapon against evil, nothing more and nothing less.

But…

“I know it’s not the same as back in your country, but I like to think my Japanese-style curry tastes pretty good. I made sure to make it extra spicy for you too!”

The god blinked at the tall pile of steaming curry rice placed in front of him, smelling the various aromatic spices and feeling the heat it gave off thanks to sheer amount of spice. Though he had no need to eat thanks to his divinity and also because he was a servant, the tantalizing aroma of the meal didn’t fail to tease his senses especially as you gazed up at him expectantly with those molten gold orbs of yours that shone and glittered like the finest of jewels. It also didn’t help that you unknowingly bat your lashes up at him as you pleaded with him through your gaze alone, the dark lush crescents emphasizing how even just a pair of eyes could hold unimaginable beauty.

You are breathtaking.

And that honestly scared him.

He, who had shed his mortal shell to embody almost every god in his respective pantheon, who had dedicated his existence to purging the world of evil, and now who’d found himself a servant to a master much more powerful than he or any servant was.

Though servants being attracted to their masters and relationships before formed between the two wasn’t anything new, Arjuna ( Alter ) of all servants felt that he himself would never be so imbecilic as to fall for his master…

And yet here he is.

Leaning forward as you’d taken it upon yourself to scoop up a spoonful of curry rice and feed it to him since he’d frozen up like a deer in headlights the moment you’d placed the treat in front of him.

“So...how does it taste? Is it spicy enough for you? Or maybe it needs more flavor? Or…?”

Normally you always wore a look of complete serenity, as if everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen was simply all part of your grand plan that no one is privy to aside from yourself...At least that’s how it looked to Arjuna and everyone else within Chaldea considering the inconceivable feats you so easily make into reality.

But now you’re gazing up at him, seemingly as harmless as a little lamb despite your ability to destroy entire worlds according to one of the other servants, Tathamet, who’d apparently been a blessed witness to all your feats before arriving in Chaldea. The primordial revered you as much as he feared you despite apparently being ‘ The Prime Evil, ’ further proof of your power.   

Despite his understanding of mortal behavior having been eradicated when he decided to ascend, there is no denying the heat that seems to engulf his whole body as you sit so close to him, serving him as if he weren’t the servant within this relationship.

“...Good. It’s...perfect…” Though an invisible lump seems to have formed in his throat, the former Lost-Belt King manages to utter the words you’ve been waiting for so patiently.

He swallows when his eyes take notice of how visibly you perk up, the ear to ear grin and the slight wagging of the glittering silver tail behind you making his own deep blue tail move ever so slowly in response to your reactions.

“Great! I was afraid that you wouldn’t like it since it’s not really the same as what you’re used to but I tried my best…” 

The bashful grin you grace him with only worsens the Berserker’s condition, his dark chocolate complexion seemingly gaining a reddish hue as he did his best to understand these confusing feelings you elicited from him.

Was this another facet of your limitless power? Or perhaps...was his body simply too weak to handle your sheer might even by just being in close proximity to you?

With the both of you off in your own world, most of the servants seem to have their gazes glued to the pair you made. Not that it was surprising, considering you were their venerated master and pretty much every servant and everyone else within Chaldea was sure you were some sort of eldritch being that came into existence and power long before any of the known gods and primordial entities did.

At this moment however, Arjuna’s thoughts have moved on from your undeniable strength and towards uncharted territory.

Namely...the reactions his physical body seems to be making in response to you.

Perhaps he should consult with someone more...adept with human emotions? Maybe it was about time he paid a visit to his brother, Karna...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! KNOT ME! ”

 This...was the last scenario he’d expected after consulting with Karna about the emotions you made him feel.

“ PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! ” 

He simply knocked at your door some days later after he’d digested his brother’s words, understanding for himself what his feelings meant before he made a move. So caught up in his own affairs, he didn’t notice how your natural scent seemed to become...spicier and almost cloyingly sweet until he’d fully entered your room only to be hit with your raw pheromones.

It all becomes a blur at that point, because the next thing Arjuna knows is that he’s pinning you down upon your bed in a full mating press, the entire length of his cock forcing your lower lips open as he sought to pour every drop of his potent seed into your fertile womb.

Though in human form, you were both very much in tune with your baser instincts and like any animal, there were certain times where your bodies went against your minds. 

The combined scent of your sweat and other bodily fluids made the former god purr from his chest, especially as your body secreted pheromones that told him how happy you were for him to be the one mating you. How you looked forward to the brood you’ll bear for him once his seed takes root within your belly.

“Good mate…” He rasps, ragged breaths hitting the shell of your ear when he shoved every last inch of his cock inside, the heavy knot at the base slipping easily inside your velvety depths as he began painting your hungry cunt with rivulets of white.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I just can't get the idea of Lorcan with a soft wife. Like she gardens and bakes and nobody understands how the dynamic works so well but it just does

Sweet peas

Well, don't they say that opposites attract? Sounds cliché but in all reality, it's just how it is. It's so obvious looking at the two of you that nature requires balance.

Lorcan is the embodiment of dark, lethal power. He's someone who people don't even dare to take a second glance at. Lowering their heads. Moving further away from the streets. Praying to the gods they believe in hopes that they would save them if Lorcan appeared on their doorstep. Especially when he's the god of death himself.

So to say that people gasped with fear when they saw you standing so close to him the first couple of times would be an understatement. "What a poor beautiful girl, hope the death is quick", "What could have she possibly done to upset him", and "What a cruel way to go, for such a delicate creature".

Just the funny thing is that it's quite the opposite. It's Lorcan who has been captivated by you. Trailing by you like a true dark shadow. And it's as if he finally understood what it's like to feel the warmth that radiates from the sky. How pleasant the summer breeze can be. That chirping bird wasn't all that annoying. And all of that is because of you.

The first time you met he was rushing back home. Annoyed over the fact that the whole day was shit. Cutting corners so that he would return to the comfort of his home as soon as possible. In all of his anger, he didn't notice the patch of only springing flowers, his big boots stomping on them. The gasp that echoed behind him made him jerk back.

And there you were. Two braids falling over your chest, a light green dress with puffy sleeves, and a dirty airport that you without a doubt used to wipe your hands at. At first, he thought that the gasp was the usual reaction to you simply seeing him. That's how everyone always reacted. But no.

You weren't looking at him. Eyes fixed on the crushed stems beneath Lorcan's feet. His own eyes darted down. "My sweet peas...", you stepped closer, pushing at Lorcan's chest as if he wasn't the biggest predator in town. "No, no...", you muttered, kneeling, gently trying to pull any of the potential survivors up. And it felt as if that dead flower was exactly how Lorcan's heartfelt now watching you. The way your soft fingers touched the still-closed petals that will never get to bloom.

"I...", Lorcan starts but you're shaking your head, picking up your watering jug as you pierce him with what Lorcan assumed was your angry face but he could tell that it wasn't a usual emotion you portrayed.

But he can't stop thinking about those sweet peas. All evening. All night. All morning. And he's so grumpy. So unimaginably grumpy because why the hell is he thinking about some flowers? And the teasing from the boys doesn't help because when he finally snaps and says, "I don't know where to get sweet peas that are in bloom, okay?!", the whole room dies down. Fenrys throws Gavriel a look and the older male silently forbids the pup from commenting. Rowan has one eyebrow raised. It's Aelin who clocks onto what's going on. She knows you. Had seen you last evening, and listened to how upset you were that your favorite flowers got stomped on by some sulking brood. "I know where to and plenty of them", she says softly and Lorcan's hopeful eyes meet hers.

It's not long after that he's knocking on your cottage door. Hands firmly holding six pots with sweet peas in different colors. The sugary smell twirls all around Lorcan and it hits him that they almost smell like you. The door cracks open and here you are. Once again right in front of him and he's so starstruck that he forgets how to speak for a moment. Then he just pushes the pots closer to you, "Bought you what I destroyed". You tried to scold him with your eyes but Lorcan could see the happy softness there. "Want to help me replant them?", you asked softly and that was his last undoing. Shrugging off his jacket, Lorcan pushed the sleeves of his shirt over his elbows. Getting ready for the best day of his life that opened the door to happily ever after.

[boabel]

the ballad of songbirds and snakes in the tua universe — basic info for season 1.

this is a little au i thought up with the help of the lovely @softie-rain and @diiwata !!

before i get into the character descriptions, the characters don't necessarily have the same relationships and personalities as they do in tua canon, just ones reminiscent of them (minus the allison/luther incest, which doesn't exist at all in this au because WEIRDD. no incest welcome here. yuck.)

okayy onto the info now!

the siblings —

panlo as number one / spaceboy -> his power being super-strength makes sense to me considering that i headcanon panlo to do the heavy lifting in his industry. i also believe him to be a good, albeit difficult leader. he's dedicated to being "number one" because its all he's ever known. staying up on the moon alone for four years broke him in ways unimaginable – he truly craves company. unfortunately, his unwavering loyalty to his mother (gaul) can make him do the wrong thing for the "greater good", and blinds him to the blatant abuse that both he and his siblings face. however, at his core, panlo is a good person. his loyalty to gaul falters and he finally realises that he is his own person beyond the academy. he's fiercely protective of his siblings and finally starts doing actual good – outside of the realms of gaul's controlling regime.

brandy as number two / the kraken -> district ten's industry involving knives was the reason brandy was my pick for the trajectory manipulation power – also the fact that she kills arachne with that very weapon. brandy has always been rebellious, killing her mentor is such a diego move. she does not stand for the abuse she faces and she's quick to call out gaul on their mistreatment. however, she has a soft spot for who she regards as their "real mother" – a robot built by gaul to tend to the children's emotional needs and care, dr. kay. brandy is a soul yearning for affection and real friendship with her siblings hidden under a cold vigilante exterior. immensely distrusting and skeptical at first but a great, caring person once she comes out of her shell.

treech as number three / the rumour -> treech is well-regarded in the fandom as a theatre kid performer, which is exactly why i chose him to have this power. he can persuade anyone just by using the phrase "i heard a rumour" but at what cost? what of his life is real anymore, who would he be without it? he's got everything he had ever wanted, a family of his own, his dream career; the whole world is mouldable in the palm of his hand. deep down, he knows it's wrong. he thought he had escaped the childhood fantasy of the umbrella academy, now he is back to square one. like allison, he's constantly trying to be a better sibling, to right the wrongs of gaul, but it isn't his job. he just needs some rest.

coral as number four / the seancé -> i chose coral to have the power of seeing the dead because of her relationship with mizzen. imagine this, mizzen dying at the age of sixteen, never to be seen again by any of his family except for her. the ghosts take a toll, and she falls into drugs and alcohol to hold them at bay – just the right kind of numbness to keep the pain of everything (mizzen's death especially) at arms length. she's uncaring of people's opinion toward her and unafraid to speak up about something if she believes it's wrong. her childhood fucked her up big time, that trauma combined with being tortured (by ghosts and commission agents) and losing her one true love (mags flanagan) in the vietnam war is enough for her to start trying to turn her life around. no more drugs, she wants answers from gaul on why the children were treated this way.

bobbin as number five / the boy -> bobbin is tiny & capable in the tbosas book – literal embodiment of number five. jokes aside - i chose bobbin to be the five of the story because he seems to be ready to do anything to get home – this is very reminiscent of five murdering a boardroom full of people to get his family safely back to 2019. they are both determined, always scheming and intelligent. bobbin knows what it's like to lose people – he's lost his whole family once over, he's never letting that happen again, come hell or high water, his family are making it out alive. also the idea of bobbin being able to blink (spacial jump) is cool as fuck.

mizzen as number six / the horror -> mizzen died young, we all know that. he died after losing his innocence, being forced to kill and being branded as a monster for it. this is reminiscent of ben's story, being forced to use the horror as a weapon and being the same as it in gaul's mind. they are both kind young boys who wanted to be something more than their situation. mizzen feels trapped whilst being a ghost – constantly trying to regulate coral's bad decisions, standing powerless, helpless on the sidelines. nowhere to go, no way to change (direct quote from ben that i thought fitted him.) he just wants to be seen, to be loved. to be able to experience, rather than endure. also the tentacle thing made me think of district four.

sheaf as number seven / the white violin -> sheaf, like viktor, is always underestimated. both small and "powerless", their whole lives they've been told constantly of how disappointing they are. how weak, how ordinary. sheaf is tired and angry and lost. she knows how everyone views her, and she's sick of it. she's sick of seeing everyone belong apart from her. a spare part. she falls for any kind of attention at all, even from somebody she doesn't truly like. androcles anderson manipulates her to unlock the powers that she has always had and she loses control. everything leading up to that point made her snap. she slits treech's throat by mistake, kills androcles and ends the entire world as we know it. good for her /j. in all seriousness, sheaf learning to accept her powers with her family is a big thing for her and feeling love, real love, helps her understand that neither her or her siblings were ever the problem, gaul was.

other characters —

dr. gaul as reggie / mr(s) monocle -> this one is pretty self-explanatory, she's the main antagonist in tbosas and has an obvious dislike for children. she has an interest in science and is able to invent new species using her knowledge in biology – much like reggie creating pogo.

dr. kay as grace / mom -> i like to think, like reggie knew the human grace, gaul once knew the human dr. kay and became fascinated by her. kay, like grace, is a scientist who develops too much of an attachment to her experiments – grace with pogo, kay with the jabberjays. i believe, once the human kay dies, gaul would remake her into a robot, seeing her motherly care towards her experiments as the same as motherly care towards real children.

harlow the monkey as pogo -> gaul would 100% be able to create a talking, humanlike monkey. the amazing @felixravinstills suggested that the monkey should be called harlow (as in the harlow's cloth vs wire experiment.)

pup as hazel -> he's definitely soft under a hard exterior. after all of those years of killing with vip, he yearns for normalcy. he also really likes donuts.

vipsania as cha-cha -> i love evil women!!! they're both competitive, vindictive and fight dirty. good for them!

io as agnes -> uhhh this was originally meant to be apollo, but i have other plans for both him and diana (wait till i post my lil s2 info thing!) but yeah i think io fits. she's silly + smart! she works in a donut shop! she birdwatches! she's in love with a man who's a time-travelling assasin! the usual!

sol as patch -> they just have those vibes of striving to help people no matter what. they're still in love with that one person who got them but didn't follow the rules.

juno as patrick -> uhh this was originally meant to be coriolanus but i have a different character that he fits. juno gives salty ex vibes. honestly makes sense. also i couldn't think of anyone to fill this role lol.

androcles as leonard -> serial killer vibes. some kind of connection to sheaf. all that.

mags as dave -> uhhhhh i want an excuse to write tragic coralmags sorryyyyy!!!

fabricia whatnot as the handler -> fashion icons who are terrible, horrible people. five & the handler's relationship is somewhat reminiscent of tigris & fabricia's.

—

chapter one of this fic is coming out soon!! the characters featured in season two/three and who they correspond to will be revealed once s1 is finished (it'll probably be a chapter an episode!)

this fic IS canon divergent, so expect some changes from tua canon. that's all, thank you for reading!

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 1x2 - Shock and Delight (Part 2)

Hi! Welcome back to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

In Part Two I will be doing a deep dive analysis on the structural arc of Daphne and Simon's Courtship No, I'm kidding, but unfortunately, I won't be talking about a whole lot of Pen or Colin either.... At least lack of screen time gets us to better things quicker ;)

Cake

Okay, so we pick up with Penelope bringing Marina a few treats - because Marina is staying home due to her 'condition'. And here's my thing... Penelope is so happy to be coming to see Marina. Even after Colin has been courting her a little, Penelope is fine with Marina. And this is the one unfortunate side effect of this whole plot line, because I think Penelope and Marina could have been friends.

Marina is generally nice to Penelope -- I'm assuming that she hasn't made fun of Penelope, hasn't made snide little comments, and has noticed Pen as an actual person, and it seems as no one other than Eloise and Colin has done this for Penelope. Plus, she's someone new and someone who isn't seemingly a terrible person, so of course Pen is excited to sneak up to see her.

Plus -- all of the pregnancy stuff is terrible exciting for her. Not because of the Lady Whistledown, gossip of it all -- no, because stuff like this doesn't happen in her world. And she's incredibly curious about all of it. She wants to know to understand her world better. And Marina offers her a view of the outside world that she never gets to see.

So, we learn that Marina will be sticking around and Penelope takes a moment to inquire how the pregnancy happened - since clearly she and Eloise still haven't found anyone to give them answers. (I wonder why they didn't go find a servant and ask them, anyway, I digress...)

Marina, amused, answers that cake is the reason for her condition.

And I love how Penelope is so confused... and hesitant about eating the piece of cake in her hand. But I mean, girl... my dear, sweet, summer child Penelope, listen up because cake is gonna be how you end up pregnant, too ;)

*ah-hem* I'm sorry, what was I saying? Oh, right back to Season 1...

So we get a really long boring explanation that Marina fell in love with a dude named George Crane and they fucked around and found out and then George Crane went to fight in the army and Marina was shipped off to be with her unimaginably mean spirited cousins.

And, look, I may not be into this story but Penelope totally is. Because it's a love story. It's about two people just finding their way, and doing sweet, little things for each other, and just falling in love with each other. And Penelope is eating this right up. This girl has the biggest, most romantic soul, and it's endearing to her on every level.

Marina reveals that she and George have been writing, and Penelope is both scandalized and titillated. And I mean, unmarried men and women who were not related to each other weren't really supposed to be writing letters -- let alone love letters -- to each other. This is a BIG FUCKING DEAL, and Penelope just loves it. But I mean, it also speaks to her -- it speaks to her as a writer, and a romantic, and this idea that two people fall in more in love through writing is just... something that's going to be a part of her own story, so this is a very meaningful thing, here.

The last beat of this is a little funny to me, because even though Pen is so invested in this love story, Marina is still being vague, so Pen asks straight up -- how did you get pregnant? And Marina just simply replies... love. And I mean, it's an incredibly sweet moment -- and I love that it's punctuated by Penelope holding a letter -- because, again, the written word will be so powerful in her story but also...

She's just dumbfounded because -- love? Love got you pregnant? Thanks, Marina, I was hoping for a mechanical break down of how that works, because no one will actually give me details on that, but I suppose a metaphor will work...

Meanwhile...

Wondering what Colin is up to? Not a whole lot, hanging out with his mother and brother, being very good at not really being in this scene. BUT I'M TRYING TO BE THOROUGH!

Picnic

No, okay, but here's my thing. We have this whole picnic thing going on the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons are around. And the Bridgerton siblings are all kind of playing around, and honestly, I love this little moment of them all playing this hoop game. I mean, Anthony is there, sure. But I think it's important showing Colin fooling around with Gregory and Hyacinth in this game -- it kind of a nice visual reminder of how young Colin is. And a nice complement to the next scene where Pen asks if she can go 'play' with Eloise.

And, I mean, I love this moment. Penelope and Eloise have been 'playing' for a long time, and it's another reminder that Penelope is also incredibly young here. She may have been pushed out into the world sooner than she wanted to, but she is still childish at heart, too.

And, as an aside I should note -- Nicola Coughlan was 32 when she filmed this. 32!! And she makes Penelope seem so, so, so young. Coughlan also has talked about how she used a much higher voice when doing Season 1 Penelope to help give the illusion that Penelope is still a young girl. It's such a cool acting choice. I'm glad Coughlan is really beginning to get the recognition she deserves.

Penelope fills Eloise in on the gossip that 'love' was what got Marina pregnant, and they are both still confused. I kind of love that Penelope is more so confused because her own mother had three children and clearly that didn't happen because her parents' loved each other. I mean, it's wise of Penelope to acknowledge that, but also kind of sad, too. It's one reason she gravitates towards the Bridgertons so hard - their family love is something she doesn't have.

Eloise wants to know if the 'maid' is frightened, but Penelope lights up because she is caught up in the love story of it all. Marina has told her she's going to run away to the country side and get married. To Penelope, this is the best possible outcome -- a woman finding love and starting her family based out of that love. I'm sure it's happened in the books she loves to read, and getting a front seat to it all is even more exciting.

Eloise, of course, does not share her view, and we get another instance of the two of them not being on the same page. Eloise exclaims that it's terrible and frightening that this is all happening -- because marriage is the worst option. It means succumbing to the will of man and society yet again, and Eloise just cannot have it.

There's a little moment towards the end where Eloise is slightly forceful with Penelope -- in a way where Eloise is trying to shake the silly love story out of Penelope's head and remind her what's actually at stake -- the poor 'maid's freedom. And I can only imagine that Eloise has spent a good amount of time reminding Penelope that she shouldn't want to be married and that the two of them are going to go off being great, single dames with many adventures.

(But also - as an aside - one reason Eloise is so afraid is that she still remembers her mother going into labor after her father died, and that has made a profound impact on her. She doesn't want to go through that nightmare herself. It's just something I wanted to note, because Eloise is a pretty complex and interesting character, even if I'm only tangentially hitting on her character in these posts.)

Back at the Bridgerton camp, Lord Berbrooke is causing a stir as he's trying to stake a claim on Daphne.

And I mean, the thing about Colin in the background is that he's taking this all very seriously. Berbrooke is scandalizing his sister and making a mockery of the Bridgerton name and Colin really isn't about to let anyone do either of those things. But, this isn't his story, and Anthony is handling it so he's just on guard and waiting...

I also think it's kind of funny that Lady Whistledown was named checked during this scene. Whatever would happen if she knew what was going on?? Meanwhile, Lady Whistledown is busy asking her mother if she could go play with her bff and trying to figure out how babies are made. The fact that LW carries so much weight already and yet, Penelope really doesn't know what power she has yet.

Gossip

The next sequence I actually really like. It's been hammered into us these first couple of episodes how little power that women have. So, since they can't go duel people, they can do what they do best -- talk. And talk they do. And the gossip is spread about how Berbrooke got a maid pregnant and sent her off to the country side and the rumors start to swirl.

It's very intentional that they showed a clip of Varley, Portia's hand maid (and right hand man) getting the news. Because this is undoubtedly how Penelope finds out about it.

But here's the thing. Here's the thing I really, really, really want to stress. You know what saves Daphne from having to marry this asshat? You know what stops Anthony from having to punch the dude or Simon from taking measures into his hands or something much worse happening? Lady Whistledown. Lady. Fucking. Whistledown.

Penelope, when it comes down to it, always protects the Bridgertons. Always. She may make some questionable choices at times, and may not always be kind to them in her writing, but she will always protect them when she can. She may not know or fully understand her full power, but it's no doubt that the Queen will eventually think it's a Bridgerton writing it -- because they are always, ultimately, shielded in column.

And I mean, look at the look in her eyes as she watches her mother gossip with other women. Look at her pretending to read what she, herself, has written. She knows the gossip is working. And she delights that her own handiwork is at play.

It's a great little moment in an otherwise brilliant sequence.

However... that's all we get in this episode. Stay tuned for Episode 3 where... even less happens! :D Thanks for reading! :)

[secretsandwriting]

Prologue

The Edutzal.

A species known for their ruthlessness and destruction. With an unimaginable amount of strength and power they were a species you didn't want the attention of, so why were there three of them spotted on Earth.

Preview -- Masterlist -- Next

"How much you wanna bet this so-called Justice League is panicking right now?" Alistair questioned from his spot in the kitchen. "I mean they have at least a few different species that would know of us Edutzal. Kryptonians, Martians, Tamaraneans and probably a few others I'm missing? I didn't pay much attention to the paperwork." He pulled another mug out of the box he was unpacking. "So who knows what stories they're spreading about us."

"Probably about Mhadaek the bearer of doomsday. After all, he holds the record for most planets destroyed at 239,592,826,625. I have never met another Edutzal who has understood why or how he destroyed that many planets in such a short time. Wasn't he averaging like 4 planets every day?" 

"Or Hwidia the dreaded Empress, she did take over 503,283,293 planets and make them follow her weird ass rules."

"I'll never get over how terrified people are of them, and yet those are the titles they gave them. Bearer of Doomsday? Cheesy as hell. The Dreaded Empress? Just sounds like a bitch." Sounds of agreement floated through the air while the three went back to unpacking.

"So did we ever decide how were going to stay here?" Ry asked. "I know we talked about laying low and only resurfacing if another Edutzal shows up but we also talked about claiming the earth and letting the citizens know we were basically taking over the earth. Did we ever fully decide which one we were going with?" 

"I mean it would be nice to not have to deal with any of that and just stay low, but then if anyone else tried to come claim or destroy the earth, the laws of Engoth state we would have to prove our ownership of the planet or fight it out but if we claim it all the inhabitants will know and then we'll have to deal with whatever the Justice League decides to try and do." You sighed as you put another book on the shelf. "Either way, both are a lot of work." 

"Well, it might just be easier to claim it now. Because then we can deal with the Justice League sooner and not have to worry about dealing with them while trying to prove our claim." Alistar shrugged, "it's not ideal but it might be the best option."

"True. Besides, if we go through it now, maybe we can get to the point where the Justice League trusts us enough to listen to us when we say, 'Don't fight them or you'll die!' and they'll back off onto a target they're capable of fighting. Actually they probably wouldn't listen to us, they're a bit too... Optimistic..?"

"You mean stupid?"

"I was trying to be nice."

"Well, we all seem to be leaning towards claiming the earth, so do we want to do it before or after we finish unpacking?"

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

"People of Earth." The Justice League staired in horror as their meeting was interrupted by the very subject of it. A hologram of three figures appeared in the room. Pitch black hair, black scleras, gray irises, white pupils. Black cracks seemed to be coming from their lips like their skin was broken porcelain, chips falling and revealing a black nothingness underneath "We are Edutzal from Engoth, a planet in a solar system quite far from here. A planet known for its danger and inability to all but the things already on it. Our people are known as The Destroyers due to our ability and willingness to reduce planets to nothing but stone and dust." 

The hologram flickered, showing previously destroyed planets. Some they had known about, others were new. Planets they had recently seen, heard of or been too now reduced to nothing. 

"The Edutzal have also been known to claim planets. Taking it as their own and turning the planet into their own kingdom until they grow tired of it. Creating rules and laws as they see fit... We have decided to claim Earth as our own." The male spoke this time and his words brought a new sense of fear.

"However, we have no desire to change everything," The other woman spoke. "We have resided on this earth for the past three months. Changes will be made but we will not be your rulers."

"In the next few weeks or months, we will be changing what we deem necessary. Once we are satisfied, you will not see much of us unless something else needs to be fixed. We will not be your dictators or your heroes. This first week we will be laying our claim for other Edutzal to see so they will not disturb the earth. This is all." The hologram flickered off.

The room was silent as all the Justice League processed what they had heard.

"What are the necessary changes?" Tim asked the silent room. No one had any answers.

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

The necessary changes? All things the Justice League didn't disagree on, except for Batman because people were killed and he didn't believe in killing.

All the changes brought a better quality of life to the world. It wasn't perfect and there were still problems but some of the biggest ones had been removed from the equation. There was even a note left in their headquarters telling them to keep up the good work and how to contact them if they saw another Edutzal or some other thing they couldn't beat.

It still left people wondering, was this really all they were going to do?

[insomniac-jay]

Wait hold on what happened with Jacnel and Sun-hwa I need to know

Toxic lesbian situationship is what happened. A few important things to know before I get into the lore of their relationship

There's a 5 year age gap between them. Jacnel is currently 26 and Sun-hwa is 21.

Jacnel isn't polyphobic by any means, it just isn't for her. She prefers having one partner and one partner only.

Sun-hwa is poly and ends up getting into a polycule with their girlfriends/teammates post breakup

Sun-hwa has an older sister named Gyuri who has a daughter named Hyun-mi. As I mentioned before, Jacnel is fond of children despite not wanting any herself and her ex's niece is no different

With that outta the way, here's the lore behind their relationship

They met at an afterparty for a tournament. Jacnel was in the middle of her career as a duelist while Sun-hwa was just beginning. At the time, Sun-hwa didn't have a lot of relationship experience while Jacnel had recently broken things off with her previous girlfriend. Already there are two different power imbalances here.

Sun-hwa had developed a crush on Jacnel mainly because she was their type (tall, long dark hair, favorite color is red) and decided to act on it by asking her out at the party. Having just gotten out of a relationship, Jacnel wasn't really looking for anything or anyone else at the moment; so you can imagine her shock and annoyance when a younger person comes up to her and asks her if she'd like to go out with them.

Like I said before, 5 year age gap. At the time, Sun-hwa was 20 and Jacnel was 25.

Taking their age difference into consideration, Jacnel initially was going to turn them down but accepted simply because she wanted to see how it would play out. Plus it'd be good entertainment for her.

The day of the first date arrives. The amount of effort Sun-hwa put into it was unimaginable. The best restaurant in Shanghai (where Jacnel lives) with them paying for all the food, hired her favorite singer to perform for them, and more all to impress her.

Jacnel liked this. Not only was Sun-hwa a lovestruck fool, they were one she could use for her own convenience. As long she put in the minimal amount of effort, they'd stay regardless of whether she liked them or not (which she didn't).

So the relationship goes on for a few months. Sun-hwa immediately became attached to Jacnel within their first week of "dating" meanwhile she put very little emotional connection or intimacy into anything.

Even when Sun-hwa wanted to get intimate with her, Jacnel would always blow them off or put no effort into it. Part of her was glad that she wasn't wasting any of her monies on dates and gifts for someone she didn't even notice until they came up to her.

The first rift in their relationship begins as soon as Sun-hwa brings up the topic of polyamory. They want more partners. Jacnel is not on board with this because a) it would mean she has to put in effort for someone she isn't even interested in and b) she would rather die than ever have to share her partner's attention with someone else. This leads to them having an argument where Jacnel lowkey gaslights Sun-hwa by telling them to "get real".

It's also during this time that Jacnel begins talking to other women and hooking up with them behind Sun-hwa's back (or it didn't matter since she wasn't official with them if you ask her).

Eventually the "couple" go to Korea together to meet Sun-hwa's family. By this time, Gyuri has returned from Japan (which is a whole different story) and is raising Hyun-mi on her own as a single mother while also attending law school. During the visit, Jacnel becomes very fond of Hyun-mi and is more emotionally connected to her than to her own partner. Sun-hwa begins to notice this and slowly begins to have an epiphany over the week they're in Korea.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when Jacnel started wearing the bracelet Hyun-mi made for her. On the way back to their hotel, they get into an argument. That's where Jacnel lays out everything about how she never loved Sun-hwa and they were "bad entertainment" if anything.

Sun-hwa breaks down, cusses her out, and tells her that they're done and they never want to see her again. Jacnel, being the mean girl she is, tells them, "It's your fault for being dumb and lovestruck. Maybe learn to get some standards for once and stop falling for aesthetics."

Mind you, all takes place within the span of 5 months.

But here's where things get a little messy: in the beginning of their new relationship, Sun-hwa was actually still messaging her and even flew to Shanghai to meet up with her behind their new partners' backs only to get left high and dry because Jacnel was in a different country with her new girlfriend of the week.

[elinoracia]

🐍 Wounded 🐍 // Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

"Hi everyone! First of all thank you so much for the support for my last fanfiction! It means a lot. I know for some people, the amount of responses I got is not a lot but omgggggggg I was so excited. And this fanfiction is from the vote I published in my fanfic "Yule ball". My first language isn't english and this is slightly proofread. Also, I take requests! You can ask me anything. And this fanfic is way shorter than my last one, tell me what you prefer."

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

Warnings : Angst, fluff, mention of death and swearing. Total of words : 715

Important informations : - All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more. (7th year of Hogwarts) - Y/N = "Your name" - Y/L/N = "Your last name" - Y/E/C = "Your eye color" - Y/H/C = "Your hair color" - Includes a very quick illustration of Sebastian made by me! (related to the story) it's the first time I draw Sebastian so I know it's not perfect. T^T

° Since you defeated Ranrock 2 years ago, your life at Hogwarts had become calmer.

But, even if you were not in danger anymore, you still felt a lack of adventure and thrilling duels. To fill this need, you sometimes went to fight trolls or poachers with Sebastian.

Yet, it is possible that you have been too accustomed to simple duels without difficulties... this may have some consequences. °

With Sebastian, you had decided to go to a poachers' hideout. Apparently they had captured unicorns. You fought until no enemy was left standing.

Sebastian: Good job Y/N! Your spell sequences are truly incredible. Y/N: Thank you so much! I spent the last few weeks training in the Undercroft. And you're not too bad yourself Sallow. Sebastian: Coming from you, it means a lot. Y/N: Don't be silly, you became really str-

You see from afar an enemy move suddenly and raise his wand in Sebastian's direction. You barely had time to react and you put yourself between the spell and him. You raised your wand to try to counter the spell but the spell was not what you expected.

Poacher/Ennemy: AVADA KEDAVRA! Sebastian: Y/N NO!!!

You had to use your ancient magic to try and counter the spell. You used Repulso on Sebastian to move him out of the way. And the duel began.

The pure strenght of the death spell was making your body shiver. You knew your magic was stronger. But as you were duelling, you felt another dangerous presence behind you. Not even Sebastian saw him because he was using the Disillusionment Charm.

Poacher/Ennemy 2: Crucio! Sebastian: Confringo!

But it was too late. The Cruciatus Curse hits you and you fall on your knees, still holding your wand and trying to counter the Avada Kedevra spell. The pain was unimaginable, unbearable.

You were about to lose the duel. You felt weaker and weaker. Your eyes filled with tears, the sounds began to become more distant and muffled. You closed your eyes in a last attempt to give your last stenght. Behind your already closed eyelids, you felt a powerful light then, you heard Sebastian calling your name, a scream and then nothing. The last thing you heard was Sebastian talking to you.

Sebastian: Please don't die, I love you Y/N. Please I need you more than anything. Talk to me Y/N. Open your eyes please!

It was only silence until you opened your eyes again.

Y/N: Where... where am I?

It looked like your were back at Hogwarts. You were laying in a bed in the Hospital Wing. You couldn't remember how you got here and what happened during the fight.

The nurse turned abruplty to you with wide open eyes the moment she heard you.

Nurse: Oh Merlin, you're finally awake. Let me auscultate you very quickly my dear. Don't move. Y/N: Where is Sebastian?

Your voice seemed very weak. But you were worried sick for Sebastian. What if he got hurt? What if they did the same to him?

You waited until the nurse was finished and then she left. You were about to try and get out of your bed that suddently you heard someone coming towards you.

It was Sebastian and Ominis.

Sebastian: Y/N! You're finally awake! I..I'm... Ominis: Keep your calm Sebastian. She obviously still is very weak. Sebastian: Y/N I am so sorry... I should have... I...

Sebastian was holding flowers. Now that you awake, you notice a buch of flowers already there around your bed. He then puts them next to you. When you looked back at Sebastian moments later, he was standing in front of you with a face twisted with worry and his eyes quickly filled with tears.

You get up to sit in your bed.

Y/N: Sebastian... I am so sorry. Please don't cry, I am fine. I am always fine. We have been through much worse. Sebastian: YOU'RE NOT FINE! IT'S NOT FINE! Ominis: Stop it Sebastian! Sebastian: But it's true Ominis! She is always the one saving us! Saving everyone! I could never save her and I tried! You were not there Ominis! You didn't see what I saw! Ominis: Sebastian... Y/N: Please Sebastian... I am here. Look at me, I am alive and well. And it's probably thanks to you.

Sebastian looked at you, tears were rolling over his freckles. He took a step closer to you and kneeled in front of your bed. He then took your hand to bring it close to his face.

Sebastian: I am not worth it. I am not worth your sacrifice Y/N... I cannot live without you. Y/N: Sebastian, do not say that. You are the most precious thing in my life. You and Ominis truly changed my life. Sebastian: I thought you were dead Y/N... I really thought... Ominis: But what happened after Y/N collapsed? Sebastian: She used her ancient magic. It was such a powerful blast that I was blinded. Then, she fainted. But at that moment, it looked like the Death spell hit her. Your body was so cold and lifeless. So I... Y/N: It's okay Sebastian. Take your time. Ominis: I am not sure I want to hear the rest of this. I'll come back later Y/N.

As Ominis left, you started to understand what happened. Sebastian was looking at you, his eyes were staring into yours.

Sebastian: I killed them Y/N. Y/N: Sebastian don't worry, you did the right thing. They also tried to kill us. And I- Sebastian: I used Avada Kedavra.

You felt your stomach drop. He used it again... The last time he used the killing curse was 2 years ago. You tired your best to keep a neutral face.

Sebatian: I had no other choice, he was about to use it against me. And no spell can counter Avada Kedavra other than ancient magic and... this same spell. Y/N: I know Sebastian... you did your best. And you saved me. You saved us. Sebastian: I had no ill intent. I did it for you... I am not a monster Y/N... I changed... Y/N: Sebastian, nobody thinks you're a monster. You're a hero! You're my hero! You saved me when I couldn't save you or even myself. Sebastian: Don't tell Ominis... Y/N: I won't. After all, I owe you. Sebastian: *chuckles* I like having friends who are in my debt. But you have to promise me one thing. Y/N: Anything. Sebastian: Don't try to sacrifice yourself to save me ever again. You have to promise me that.

He looked so serious and yet so beautiful. He became so handsome, even if you always found him attractive you just couldn't help but notice how much he changed. Your heart was so full of love for him, so much that you would do anything to make him happy. But yet, you couldn't promise such a thing.

Y/N: I'm sorry Sebastian but I can't. I need you by my side and I will do what it takes to protect you. And I think you would do the same for me. Sebastian: I know. But I wouldn't do it for the same reasons as you. Y/N: Oh? And what are my reasons? Why do you think I did that? And don't you dare think I would do that for anyone. Sebastian: Well, I am not sure. Y/N: I did it because I love you Sebastian. And I don't quite fancy anyone as much as you. Sebastian: I love you too. I would kill for you Y/N. You are my only weakness. Y/N: And I would die for you. Litteraly. Sebastian: Y/N! Don't joke about that while you're still in a hospital bed! Y/N: *giggles* I apologize. But look at the bright side! Sebastian: And what is the bright side for that situation exactly ?

You lean forwards and kiss Sebastian's lips. It was soft and you heard a small gasp and Sebastian's breathing quicken. When you gently pulled out of the kiss, you looked at Sebastian. His face flushed bright red and he looked almost shocked.

Sebastian: Well... You definitely, definitely charmed me. *he grins* Y/N: I thought my feelings for you were always kind of...obvious. *you giggle* I have been in love with you since my 5th year at Hogwarts. I did not know how to tell you because you always seemed troubled by Anne's condition. I did not want my feelings for you to be another burden. Sebastian: W-what? I always felt the same about you! I guess I just never really had the courage to tell you. I didn't want to lose our friendship after everything we went through. *he gently smiles at you* But my heart is, and always will be yours Y/N. Y/N: I love you Sebastian.

The End

[krikeymate]

I feel like ‘Light’ by sleeping at last perfectly represents the carpenter sisters. It feels like it’s from the perspective of sam, like it just fits so well.

Ok so like. I'm so sorry it took me 5 and a half months to answer this because HOLY SHIT??? You're so fucking right my friend.

May these words be the first / To find your ears / The world is brighter than the sun / Now that you're here / Though your eyes will need some time to adjust / To the overwhelming light surrounding us -> This is just, from the moment Tara is born, Sam is enamoured. Her life begins at five and a half.

I'll give you everything I have / I'll teach you everything I know / I promise I'll do better / I will always hold you close -> The past...

But I will learn to let you go / I promise I'll do better / I will soften every edge / I'll hold the world to its best / And I'll do better / With every heartbeat I have left / I will defend your every breath / And I'll do better -> Meets the future. Sam has made mistakes, she's broken promises she made - to herself, to her sister, to the world. But she'll do better, she needs to do better.

'Сause you are loved / You are loved more than you know / I hereby pledge all of my days / To prove it so / Though your heart is far too young to realize / The unimaginable light you hold inside -> Tara has no knowledge, no understanding, of just how much power she has over Sam.

This is a love song from Sam to Tara. It was made for this purpose.

[nocturnesmoon]

I was an adventurer like you

Mhm you know what time it is? It's time for more of my random thoughts piled together into something I hope is coherent.

Today we are taking our lovely couple consisting of Simon and johnny and catapulting them into Faerun along with you.

Despite it's supposed glamour in the bigger cities, the realm of Faerun is quite the brutal one. Different species at war, the overlap between realms, the creatures and monsters that roam. It's quite the chaotic place to be, full of dangers and mysteries.

By the natural order of things, it's no surprise the number of adventurers that exist within these lands. There's rarely a shortage of them, as they seem to pop up everywhere, with new ideals, goals, and incredible powers. The young and aspiring adventurers quickly ends up taking the place the older retired ones.

Simon and Johnny were once such young and aspiring folk, a smile on their faces, excitement in their hearts as they went on unimaginable adventures. They fought creatures they'd never imagine; they fought devils, slayed dragons, and laid waste to goblin hoards.

They became quite renowned in their time under the aliases of Ghost and Soap. Songs and tales were written about them, big inns knew them well, and they became quite the role model for the younger adventurers.

That was a long time ago now, feels almost like an eternity ago. Though the circumstances of their retirement came unexpected to Simon, it eventually became clear it was a good decision for them both. Especially since Johnny took an arrow to the knee and was ready to settle, Simon saw it wouldn't be quite the same without his partner out there on the road.

Though they aren't active adventurers anymore they're still quite known, the young might not recognize them anymore but the older still hold their images in their heart. And though they are no longer out felling demons, they have their own way of getting by.

It was originally Simon's idea, but one that Johnny quickly took over. They opened a small potions shop just outside of a small town. Simon wanted somewhere with peace and quiet, and Johnny still wanted to hone his absurdly good craft of creating things. The compromise was quite easy to make from then on.

The shop became a trademark of the town, though business wasn't always through the roof, they made enough to get by. Anything between potions, ingredients, food, and general supplies could be bought there, making it a good pitstop for adventurers.

They managed to make quite a comfortable life here for themselves, even if they had to retire early by Simon's standards. Johnny tends to the shop and does most of the social bit, selling and buying, the whole lot. While Simon takes care of the garden out back and the miscellaneous maintenance around the house that's bound to occur with Johnny's experimenting.

It has become a weekly occurrence that something tends to blow up spectacularly, and while Simon is used to the sudden twists and turns of an adventure, these minor explosions might give him too many white hairs too early.

Despite the hiccups along the way, it's a quiet life that they're able to live out in peace. At least it was quiet until that fated day where you crossed their path.

It's nearing the evening, closing time for the shop and around the time where Johnny tidies the front desk up while Simon sits down with a cup of tea, and they talk. The door is almost thrown off its hinges as its being barged in, startling them both into action.

When you stumble in it's clear you won't make much of a threat even if you wanted to. You looked beyond drunk, stumbling in, knocking one of Simon's precious flowers over and shattering the bowl. Your sword was drawn but not to antagonize, merely so you had a support as you looked up at them with droopy eyes, pleading for help.

Simon is the first to recognize the familiarity in your face. He remembers you from all those years ago, a battle against a horde of goblins, back when you were all young and bright eyed, with that spark for adventure that kept you alive. Though you didn't adventure together for long, you fought alongside each other well.

You had fought bravely, even taken a hit that was meant for Simon. He suddenly remembered he never got to thank you. Though with the dark no-nonsense presence he gave off back then he doesn't think you expected a thank you if you even remember.

You liked them both quite a lot back then, if his memory doesn’t betray him, though sadly you weren't able to join them on future adventures, and they hadn't seen you since. Simon would be lying if he didn't occasionally think about you, Johnny would be too. They both knew there could've been something special there if they had let it grow before taking off.

He wonders what in the world happened to you, during all those years. Clearly you kept your career as an adventurer alive, a lot of battle scars littering your body and face that he doesn't believe you had back then.

Johnny doesn't seem to recognize you as quickly, not that there's much to see when you fall face down on their wooden floor. "Ach c'mon I just washed the flooring," Johnny exclaims as you topple over, your bloodied sword scattering off next to you and creating a splatter.

They both look at you cautiously, as if to see whether or not you were gonna get back up. When you don't move Johnny takes a few steps forward, crouching down next to you as if to see whether you were even alive.

"How much did ye drink," Johnny scoffs and carefully rolls you over to see if you were awake and faking. "Bloody idiot-" he cuts himself off when he sees the wound in your side and the pooling blood beneath your body.

All it takes is one look between them before Simon springs into action, walking over to a medicine cabinet they keep in the shop's storage area. Johnny carefully hoists you up, hooking an arm under your knees and one on your back to pick you up.

He takes a moment to take in your actual state, you looked pale, sickly so. You'd likely been wearing armor once upon a time, but your breastplate had been ripped clean off, only leaving the leather binding underneath. Your clothes were torn and dirtied with either blood or mud. It wasn't an unusual look for the adventurers that came in to shop, but admittedly they normally didn't collapse on the floor either.

Johnny carries you out of the shop area and into the back where the rest of their house is. He gently gets you situated on the couch as Simon comes with different sets of supplies, they needed to stabilize you. While Johnny went to work on your wound, Simon went back out to the shop.

He had intended to clean up the flooring, so Johnny didn't need to bother, but was promptly interrupted when he realized the shop wasn't empty like they left it. An Orc was bustling about, tall enough to barely fit in there with the lower ceiling.

Simon held back a string of curses that wanted to bubble up, he had nothing against the orcs, but they were closed and had a bleeding out person in the back, this was too much. "Excuse me" his voice sounded out and caught the attention of the orc, "We're closed."

The orc grumbles something incoherent glancing back outside briefly before fully turning their attention on Simon. He noticed the several other orcs waiting outside the shop, it made him grit his teeth. If they brought trouble here it wouldn't be good, even if he was quite skilled once it's been a while since he picked up an axe or a sword.

"We're looking for someone that came through here," the orc grumbles again, Simon starts to realize it's just their speech making them harder to understand, some sort of accent. "They're likely injured," the orc continues "And we need to take them with us."

They then proceed to give him a long description of the features on the person they're pursuing, and it doesn't take a genius to realize it's you. It makes Simon really start to wonder what in the hell you were up to, and whether or not you were really worth the trouble.

"Ain't seen anybody," Simon grumbles back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks the Orc up and down. If it came down to it, he could reach for the knife on his belt and spin it into the orcs uncovered neck, then make a beeline for better equipment.

"Don't kid us" the orc starts to sound irritated, "we're not dumb we see the blood on your floor, just hand them over and this will go fine."

They didn't seem to want to go easy, but Simon wasn't about to get violent just yet if he didn't have to. "I don't know what you're on about, that's fluids from a broken potion, i was just about to clean it up," Simon rides it off, keeping himself stoic to pass off the lie.

"Then where's the glass," The orc asks again dumbfounded, seemingly questioning their own judgement now that Simon brought up a different possibility.

"I…cleaned that up already…" Simon answers, looking on to see if the orc buys his lie, no matter how flimsy it might seem it is still believable.

"Hmf alright…if you see them come find us…" the orc says it's final and then leaves the shop once more. Only when the door closes, and the orcs are well on their way does Simons shoulders relax again.

He lets out a sigh and continues his work of getting the floor cleaned of your blood before it soaks into the wood. Luckily there wasn't a lot to clean, and he took the courtesy to wipe off your blade as well, putting it off to the side so you could take it back later.

By the time he's all done and joins Johnny again, you're all patched up and snoring away. Your wound wasn't severe but would likely still need weeks of rest before you could do any adventuring again.

They let you rest, discussing amongst themselves what to do with you while they make dinner together. It's only later that night when you wake up again, Simon had almost fallen asleep sitting in a different chair, Johnny sitting on the floor next to the couch they had placed you on.

Johnny was quick to assure you of your safety, explaining how you ended up here as far as they know, and that they got you patched up. You thank them profusely, feeling rather embarrassed at the whole deal.

They let you stay the night, getting you filled up on water and food and making sure to tend to the wound as it needs. The night ends up quite entertaining for the three of you even with the rather grim start of it. You all catch up on each of your adventures, they find out what you've been doing since all those years ago and what accomplishments you've gotten.

They're very impressed as well, even if they had seen the potential in you, so many with good potential die young. To see how far you've gotten, only a few years younger than themselves, and still going, it's something to be proud of.

Neither of them mentions it, but part of them regrets not making a longer friend of you all those years ago. You were easy to talk to, excitable, and eager you would've made a good companion when they were still adventuring themselves.

They're once again reminded of what brought the three of you together in the first place, what kept you guys talking even once the battle was over. You couldn't lie to yourself either, you had missed a connection like that, a thing you hadn't found anywhere else, with anyone else.

After you've gone to sleep on the couch again, and they've retrieved themselves to their bedroom, they find themselves unashamedly scheming on ways to have you stay. They saw something in you they haven't seen in anybody else, something sweet and caring, while still adventurous and wild.

Maybe they could have you come back at least if you didn't want to stay.

The next morning however you awake in agonizing pain, having Johnny absolutely panic that his remedy wasn't working, and immediately getting to work on a new one. Meanwhile Simon does his best to soothe you, moving you into their bed instead of the uncomfortable couch.

They close shop for the day, spending most of it tending to you, trying to get you stabilized again. Worst case scenario they'd have to go find a healer of some kind, there was a cleric that would sometime pass through town, and they could ask around.

By the end of the day things are looking up once again, the pain isn't as bad and one of Johnny's remedies seems to have worked for you. They insist you stay the night again, so they're sure you're healing okay.

They end up falling into bed with you, though it's soon you seem to not mind it. Having them on either side of you to make sure you didn't roll around on your wound, and to protect you should you need it, found itself to be quite comforting in your state.

From then on you don't really make any incentive to leave during the healing process. It's slow and grueling, with a few setbacks it felt too long at times, but it eventually got better. Once you did, you slowly started helping around the shop, trying to repay a debt you insisted on owing them despite how much they assured you it was fine.

You helped clean up after Johnny's experiments, restocking the shelves, and even assisting Simon in the garden when it wasn't a lot of physical labor. You enjoyed the mindless activities, being able to make conversation with them while doing it was usually the best part.

You enjoyed Johnny's quips, and excitement over his passion for potions and remedies. In contrast to the quieter time spent in the garden with Simon, you enjoyed his jokes and his insightfulness when it came to the plants. To see him have a gentle touch with them, much the same how he handles his partner (and you in turn), it was heartwarming to see for how brutal he used to be in your eyes.

It took quite a while for you to get back to your full strength, and by the time you did you had found a place with them. A place where you could explore the connection that attracted you in their direction, what made you so good for each other.

Even as you started up smaller adventures to get yourself back on track, you were never gone for long. The once pitstop, became a full stop for you, a new home with them that slowly developed into something beautiful, that you couldn't stay away from.

Mmhm the things i'd do to see these two fight dragons...too much

I kinda have some more ideas for this, in a fantasy dnd kind of setting, but i dont know if im gonna make it into anything.

I'm also working on a different actual series that i hope to share the first chapter of soonish, if i can get myself to actually plan it out and fully finish the first chapter. Exciting things :))

(I read through this a few times but i have an urging feeling i missed a mistake somewhere so if you find it i apologize)

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

Draco x non-house-specific she/her!reader

Avada Kedavra

The walls of the Malfoy Manor used to be a safe haven for you, it was once home to your second family, belonging initially to the love of your life: Draco Malfoy. However, being trapped inside these walls now, suddenly every room you’re dragged through is more daunting than the last. Temporary relief floods through you as Bellatrix LeStrange releases her firm grip on your hair and flings you onto the dark oak floor, where your crumbled form seeks a brief moment of rest. Using the little strength you have left, you lift your head from the ground just enough to gaze over the family that loved you once upon a time. Lucius and Narcissa share the same vacant expression in the presence of Bellatrix, but the sadness in their eyes is something they cant hide from you. When your eyes land on Draco, your heart leaps with an unimaginable and unrealistic hope. His countenance reads as one of sadness and sympathy, but not for the right reasons. He doesnt recognise you enough for this to pain him anymore than seeing a wounded stranger, and you are so, so glad of that.

“Where did you find her?” Narcissa questions her sister Bellatrix, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

Given the sacrifices you made for their son, both Narcissa and Lucius tried to help you hide from this fate, but they knew as well as you did that they were just putting off the inevitable. They felt it was the least they could do after what you did for Draco; if they had done anymore for you, which they offered to do, they would have been killed themselves, and you couldnt let that happen.

“Stupid girl was out looking for food! She was covered in mud and leaves, like the disgusting creature that she is, but I followed her back to the cave she’d been hiding away in! What do you think Draco?” Bellatrix teases.

Draco frowns at her. “What am I supposed to think? You’ve tortured a seemingly innocent girl and brought her here, for what reason?”

Bellatrix cackles in response, twiddling her wand in her hands. “The Dark Lord wants you to prove your devotion, all you have to do is kill her.”

Draco’s eyes widen, and he holds your gaze for a moment. “Why do I have to kill her, out of every other student I attended school with?”

Lucius places a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Now, Draco, you shouldnt question the Dark Lord.”

Although that is true for Draco and his family, you know that isnt the reason Lucius interjected. The less Draco questions, the less he knows. He’s trying to protect his son, just like you are.

~

Your knees bounced beneath your interlocked hands as you sat on a chair, directly opposite Lucius Malfoy.

“You did that…for the sake of my son? Even knowing what your own fate will be, regardless?” Lucius questioned in disbelief.

You nodded. “It was the least I could do. I dont wish to make any foolish efforts to save myself, but I will do everything in my power to save him.”

Lucius leant forward to take ahold of your hand. “Thank you, thank you so much. I cannot tell you what this sacrifice means to both Narcissa and I.”

You managed a weak smile. “Please, dont thank me. What I’ve done doesnt deserve any form of gratitude. Draco can never find out what happened tonight, promise me you wont tell him.”

Lucius nodded firmly. “I promise you, he will remain naïve of your brave efforts to protect him.”

Narcissa entered the room then, after tending to the unconscious Draco for a few minutes since you arrived with him. Lucius stood to his feet and approached his wife, leaning close to her to whisper in her ear, and you watched tears fill Narcissa’s eyes as she stared at you.

“But (Y/N), you made our son so happy, he was the happiest we had ever seen him whenever he was with you!” She pleaded.

Lucius wrapped an arm around her waist. “It’s to protect him, Narcissa, she did the impossible to keep him safe.”

And with that, you rose to a standing position, not wanting to dwell on the explanation of your actions any longer. “The sleeping charm I cast on him will wear off soon enough, I’ll be making my leave now.”

Before you left, Narcissa pulled you into a wordless embrace. Words werent needed for you to know you were feeling the same agony of the loss of the boy you had come to know.

~

“Who else would match the devotion of killing your darling?” Bellatrix snickers, spitting the petname he frequently called you.

In response, Draco raises an eyebrow, almost cockily. “I dont have a darling, Bellatrix, I havent the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

No, no, dont try to outsmart her, dont! You plead with him inside your head, and attempt to use your eyes to beg him not to take this further, but he simply winks at you. He thinks he’s found a loophole, a way to control this situation, but the panic on both Narcissa’s and Lucius’ faces as they stand behind him says otherwise.

“Dont play dumb with me, boy, you’ve been all over this girl for the past four years! Acting like you dont know her, gosh, that really is cruel, how could you do that to her?” Bellatrix sneers.

Draco laughs at her, and you want to clamp your hand over his mouth to prevent him from ruining everything, but you dont even have the strength to pull yourself to your feet.

“I can assure you, if this girl had any involvement with me, I would not shy away from admitting that. This girl, I think her name is (Y/N), and all I know of her is that we had potions class together, and occasionally spoke when we were partnered by Snape, but I have no further knowledge of who she is, none whatsoever. Killing her would mean nothing to me.” Although Draco only said that last sentence to protect you, in the hopes of Bellatrix realising she’d made a mistake and then releasing you and finding another soul to subject to Draco’s mission instead, his words hurt, and that is your own fault.

~

“Darling, please, talk to me! What’s made you cry like this!?!” You pleaded with Draco as you held his broken form in your arms, his body heaving with dry, painful sobs as you two laid on your bed.

“He’s going to make me kill you, (Y/N), I cant do it, I cant! I cant live without you!” Draco cried, his arms tightening around you as he buried his face further into the crook of your neck.

Your fate should be inevitable, but it hangs in the balance. Either your death will completely destroy Draco, or he wont be able to kill you, and he’ll be murdered as punishment. It was in that moment, you realised that you had to save Draco from this horrible fate altogether.

~

“Draco, stop it!” Narcissa hisses.

“No, Mother, I wont! Bellatrix appears to be under the impression that there is someone outside of my family who actually means something to me, for that she is a fool, and deserves to be made aware of it.” Draco scolds his aunt.

Bellatrix suddenly points her wand at Draco, and performs a charm that you recognise to be a truth-telling charm.

“Now tell me, Draco, do you know this girl?” Her eyebrow is raised as she continues to hold her wand, pointed at her nephew.

“How many times do I have to say this before you get it through your head? I barely know her!” Draco retorts in annoyance, and Bellatrix lowers her wand, releasing him from the hold of the charm.

For a few moments which, in your head, equal the length of a lifetime, Bellatrix paces the floor behind you, before shoving you onto your back and snatching your wand.

“Let’s have a look at the last spells this filthy mudblood performed.” Bellatrix giggles to herself as she examines your wand.

You lay silent on the floor, your eyes staring off into nothing as tears begin to blur your vision, but you dont speak a word. Some desperate part of your mind is so sure that if you dont give yourself away, Bellatrix will never find out the truth.

A shriek erupts from Bellatrix, causing your body to jolt in shock before her boot makes harsh contact with your stomach.

“This disgusting wretch used obliviate on Draco! How pathetic!” She cackles menacingly, and your eyes close in a pained blink.

“Im sorry.” You manage to utter to the Malfoys, your split lip bleeding with your attempts to speak.

“What!?!” Draco barks, eyes wide in shock as he stares own at you.

“Well, we’d better do a simple reverse spell with her wand to make things right, or this wont be any fun at all!” Bellatrix concludes.

“No!” You cry out, your composure gone as you launch yourself in front of Draco, hoping to deflect the spell, but Bellatrix grabs you and locks an arm around your neck, holding you in place as she aims your wand at her nephew.

Draco’s gaze flickers between his parents and you, beyond confused as to what is happening around him. The memory of the last time you saw confusion so deeply set in his eyes haunts you as your body is rigid under Bellatrix’s grasp.

~

“I love you, Draco, and I am so, so sorry.” You whispered into his hair as he continued to sob in your arms.

“I-I love you too.” Draco uttered in reply, and you closed your eyes tightly, fighting back tears as you realised this would be the last time you heard him say those words to you.

As discretely as you could manage, you lifted your wand, and with Draco’s face hidden in your neck, he was completely unaware of what was about to happen to him. You sniffled, and Draco’s arms tightened around yours.

“Hey, dont cry, i-it’s alright, w-we’ll figure something out, like we always do!” Draco tried to ease your nerves, but little did he know his efforts were in vain.

With shaking hands, you pointed your wand to Draco’s head, and muttered the most destructive word you had ever heard yourself say.

“Obliviate.”

Silence fell as Draco’s sobs came to an abrupt halt. You sat up, and forced Draco to do the same. He was in a daze, and the confused expression on his face with tears still staining his cheeks was a sight that fractured your heart completely. Lifting your wand once more, you cast a sleeping charm, before you allowed yourself to burst into tears, clutching his unconscious body close to yours for the last time.

~

“No! Dont hurt him like this, please!” You scream with everything you have, desperately thrashing your body, kicking against Bellatrix until she lets you go, and you stumble over to Draco, collapsing against his form.

You wrap your arms around him protectively, squinting your eyes shut and bracing for impact, hoping the spell will somehow miraculously hit you instead, willing to believe that just you holding him will be enough to protect him. Draco grabs your arms and gently pushes you away from him, holding you at arms length to stare into your eyes, a frown set deep on his face.

“What’s going on, (Y/N)?” He asks you, an almost begging tone to his voice as he searches your eyes for an explanation.

Your lips part, but before you can utter a word, Draco’s body stumbles backwards as the memories of the last four years of his life spent with you come crashing down on him like a tonne of bricks, almost sending him to the floor if it werent for his parents holding him steady. Looking over your shoulder, you see Bellatrix with a dark smirk on her face.

“(Y/N)?”

Goosebumps ripple all over your skin at the sound of him saying your name, with the endearing tone he always used whenever speaking to you, the tone that he had forgotten existed until now. You turn back to him, and the look in his eyes tears you apart. There’s so much love, an endless amount of almost child-like joy at him finally being able to see you as more than the classmate you were to him mere moments ago. He approaches you, his hand slowly reaching for your face as his body towers over you, and when his delicate touch meets your bruised cheek, tears begin to cascade down your face. Draco’s eyes soften, and he pulls you into his warm, all-too-familiar embrace, one that you wish you could reject, but there’s no possible way you ever could.

“Why did you do it?” Draco asks you in a hushed voice, pulling away from you slightly so that he can read your face.

You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “To save you. I knew that my death would either destroy you, or you wouldnt be able to do it, and that would cause your death. The only thing I could do was erase every memory of us from your mind, so that you could end my life, without it killing you. And if you hadnt been your usual smug self, it would have worked.“

Draco chuckles as tears prick his eyes. “Well, for once Im actually proud of being a smug arsehole.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Why?“

Draco smiles down at you, his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. “Because in whatever sense it may be, a life without you by my side is not a life worth living.”

You sniffle and shake your head at him. “Dont, please, dont ever say that.”

Draco’s expression hardens. “It’s the truth.” He suddenly pushes you behind him, his eyes fixed on Bellatrix as he pulls out his wand. “Either we both live, or we both die, which will it be?“

"Draco!!” His parents shout in outrage, but Bellatrix giggles in response to his words, and paces in front of him menacingly.

“You’d rather die for that filthy mudblood than live to serve the Dark Lord?” She presses, almost as though she wants him to reiterate his point, just to be sure.

“The only way I’ll serve him is if (Y/N) remains alive and by my side, if that cant happen, then kill me.” Draco explains.

Without hesitation, you take ahold of his hand and stand beside him, looking up at him with fire in your eyes.

“Kill both of us, or neither.” You add, a fierce expression as your eyes lock on the evil witch herself.

Bellatrix cackles so hard that she throws her head back, but she regains her composure to shrug at the two of you. “Well, that’s quite alright, as killing one of you will kill the other anyway!“

Yours and Draco’s eyes widen in alarm as Bellatrix lifts her wand one final time.

"Avada Kedavra!”

Shoving Draco to the side, expecting her to aim the curse at you, you close your eyes and brace for impact. But when nothing hits you, and a devilish shriek fills the room as Bellatrix disapparates out of the room, you open your eyes to see Draco lying on the floor beside you, colour rapidly draining from his face as his parents kneel at his side.

“No, NO!” You scream, falling beside him and kissing his face, grabbing his hands, clinging to him desperately.

Without thinking it through, you grab his wand, and try to perform healing spells on him, but Draco wraps his hands around yours.

“It’s alright darling, you cant stop this.” His expression contorts in pain, and it becomes clear to you that holding on for as long as he has after that spell, is agony for him.

“No, you cant die, no, please, dont go! I cant lose you again, please!” Your sobs wrack through your body, your mind spinning as your heart pounds inside your chest.

With eyes wide like a deer in headlights, you turn to Lucius. “Is it possible for a wizard to perform the killing curse on themselves?”

Lucius frowns at you sadly. “In some extreme cases, it has been proven possible, but the spell requires more than just a desire to kill, there has to be a strong feeling behind it.“

You look back down at Draco. “That wont be a problem.”

Draco holds your hand as you lift his wand to your temple. “(Y/N), dont.”

You shake your head. “You said it yourself, we both live, or we both die. Im about as prepared to live in a world without you as you would be to live in one without me: which is not prepared at all.”

Draco nods, accepting defeat, one of his hands still clinging to yours with the small amount of life he has left.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispers to you with his last breath.

You lean down to kiss his lips softly. “See you soon, my angel.”

Sitting up, you stare at his grief stricken parents, and give them a kind smile.

Lucius struggles to hold back his tears. “You saved our son, without you, he wouldnt have had the strength to resist the way he did for so many years of his life. Thank you.“

Narcissa sniffles. "We love you, (Y/N), and we’re proud to call you a Malfoy.”

Your smile widens at their kind words. “I love you both, too. Thank you for everything. Goodbye.“

Narcissa falls against Lucius’ chest. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

Averting your eyes, your gaze drifts back to Draco, and you smile gently at him as you lift his wand to your temple. You know that, when this spell is used, it is most commonly out of hatred, meaning that it is shouted out of anger. However, your death is not going to be out of anger, it is out of love, which is a feeling more powerful than hate could ever be, and for that reason, you can make this unforgivable curse, peaceful. Closing your eyes, with a smile still on your face and your free hand holding Draco’s, you carefully whisper the words that you once feared, but now welcome with open arms. And as soon as the words fall from your lips, the lonely world around you falls, too, into a blissful darkness, until it ceases to be.