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applesontheground · 3 years

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a man of mercy 🕯️

i saw someone on the dash talking about the idea of lester doing something fucked up awhile back, and ever since this idea has been sitting in my head. i finally wrote it out after fighting with the idea for like a week.

not to ramble too much more but i felt like lester was supposed to be a foreshadowing/ominous character in the movie -- the first sinclair brother we meet without realizing it -- but it was hard for me to be scared of him because i sat next to kids like him like every year at my rural ass high school lol. seeing what didn’t make the movie kind of sucks too, imagining what could’ve been with his character, but i digress.

SFW | Word Count: 1,560 | Lester Sinclair x GN Reader

contains: canon typical/violence, implied murder

🎼: x, x, x

"I really shouldn't pick up every dang person I find out here, but you seem fine."

You laughed, realizing you'd been thinking something similar when you climbed into the ratty pickup truck. "Why d’you say that? Do I look dangerous, or something?"

Hearing your amusement, he shot you a sheepish grin back, "Not t'all. I'm just sayin'. In general..."

Although his name was already slipping your mind, you found that the young man who had offered to give you a ride into town had a pretty good sense of humor. Even when you had been standing with your busted car, frowning through your sweat and the broken fanbelt in your hands, he had the gall to walk up to you and whistle, "Well, that ain't gonna go far." Since he'd seen you, he had been cracking grins and teasing with a boyish smile, and you hated to admit you were beginning to see past the first impressions; that was, the ridiculous amount of dirt on his face and the grime on his hands.

Your parents would be smacking you upside the head to see you laughing with him as much as you were, letting the eager disposition rub off on you -- let alone the fact you let him give you a ride and stranding your car for the moment being. You were even forgetting about the fact that he had a dead buck in the bed of his truck, and that he smelled like something you really couldn't put a finger on.

"So, do you live out here?" You asked, trying to see out of the smudged windows. He replied over the sound of various suspended "charms", animal hooves and bones that hung from the ceiling and knocked against the cabin, "Sure do. Just a thirty minute drive outside of town."

"Town, huh? I didn't know there was anything else here besides forest," You admitted, "Besides maybe a gas station if you're lucky."

"Naw, Ambrose's just up the road. It can be a bit hard to find, and even harder to remember." He gave a curt shake of the head, "After the Interstate was put in, no one seems to be able to come through no more." You nodded in understanding, and he went on, "Trudy's House of Wax is out there if you like that sort of thing, too. Maybe if Bo's busy when you first get there."

"Like, a wax museum?"

He nodded and explained, "Trudy Sinclair's livelihood. Spent most of her days out in Ambrose on it. That wax sculpting stuff was what they say was her callin'. Well, and her family, a'course." You nodded thoughtfully and murmured, "Huh. I have a few friends who’re artists. They paint, or write, but wax sculpting? Don't think I've ever met one of those before."

You laughed a little bit, and he smirked. It was more to himself than to you as his eyes fluttered down for a beat before fixing back on the road. You couldn't stop the mirroring, your lips curling gently at him, and you were about to turn to your window again when suddenly his breath hitched, and he slowed the truck with a muddy boot on the brakes. "Shit, hold on-"

You grimaced out of reflex, your hand instinctively going up to seek the handle that usually sat above the passenger seat, but it only brushed a rabbit's foot. Flinching away from it, your palm went to the next best thing, pressing into the window and adding another smudge to the collection as you struggled to keep yourself steady.

"Sorry, sorry!" He winced, squinting at what had made him stop so abruptly as he got the vehicle to slow and pull to the side with a disgruntled rumble. It even sputtered a bit as it finally came to a stop, making him curse under his breath. He gave you an apologetic frown, but with another trying smile you eased, "It's all good, I survived." You tipped your chin up to see over the hood, "Is there something in the way?" You stood up as much as you could, asking with a lighthearted tone. When your eye caught a dark stain on the worn road, and the beginnings of a lone shoe, your brow quickly furrowed.

"Is that a-"

A cold, drawn out noise made the air still in the truck cabin. The sound was coming from the bushes off to the driver’s side, a guttural gargle that gave out at the very end. You two looked at each other again, but you could see that confusion only sat with one of you. You had never heard a deer or a rabbit or any animal for that matter make such an awful noise. Your eyes fell down to the knife on his belt, and any security that you were feeling was slipping fast.

His hand suddenly shot out to the door handle. "Now you just sit tight. Need to take care'a that, then we'll be on our way, alright?" His brow had fallen down and pressed together, a frown jutting out on his face as he got out without a second look back. You swallowed hard, glancing at the road to check for any oncoming cars. When there was nothing except for the noises from the brush, and a desolate stretch of road going over the hazy horizon, your eyes darted back to see him at the truck bed. He moved the carcass to take hold of an old shovel sitting under it.

You tried to catch it through the corner of your eye, not wanting him to see you staring with the look you knew was on your face. He walked off towards the sound, which came at intervals that sounded in tune with someone's breathing. Inhale, silence. Exhale, screaming. One of his hands held to the shovel at one side, the other one rested on the knife at his hip. He stepped over the unsightly rocks and spindly plants with care, going a few paces and starting to get covered by the forest's canopy while the brim of his hat flicked back and forth. Looking.

He stopped at one tree, gazing down at the ground with the same cross expression. The frown deepened, and without another moment of hesitation, he slipped out of your view. A dull slam, almost sounding like rock hitting metal, made you jolt. Your heart clenched to see part of his elbow from behind the tree, the handle of the shovel rising with it.

Your hands shook in your lap as you looked away from the woods, back to the road and trying not to make out the second and third bumps that followed. You felt fortunate that everything was muffled from the cabin of the truck.

There had to be a reason, you reminded yourself. It was most likely some poor animal, and he was just doing what he had to. Mercy kills were necessary, especially if you worked in the business of roadkill. You weren't sure if that was a proper profession, but regardless the man seemed to have some sort of interest in it. Your eye rolled back over your shoulder and to the bed of the truck, what you could see of the buck. Then to the trophies hanging around the cabin... Despite your assurances, your breath was barely escaping from your chest as you started to sweat again. You hadn't even noticed him coming back until you heard the shovel thrown in the back of the truck with a clang, and the door swing open again.

"...What was that? An animal?" You breathed, trying to smile and alleviate the suffocating energy he had brought with him, but you found that you were unable to when you spotted a red stain on his clothes that wasn't there before.

He was silent, save for a half-hearted mumble in vague affirmation, and you wished you could remember his damn name. You tried to find the words that could take his mind off of what he just did, bring back the friendly passerby that had caught you at a bad time with no intention but to help you. He was still that guy, right? You could only hold onto that question because the answer you’d never get made you want to throw yourself out of the truck as quick as you had gotten into it.

All you really had was the hope that it was just a dead animal, and the hope that what he did was just a formality.

Fixating on the window again, the truck started up with a few rough turns of the key. When the silence was too much for him, he asked carefully, almost expectantly, "You're not scared'a me now, are ya?"

You squinted out the window, but finally shrugged. "No, I...don't know what you do, or what that was. I also probably shouldn't get into cars with strangers like I did, but..." You looked at him and forced a smile, echoing, "You seem alright."

He rose his eyebrows at that and looked back at the road a second time. The smile wasn't returning to his face, but you could tell by the way his expression subsided to a more relaxed look of pity that it was the suitable thing to say.

The sentiment seemed to be enough for the both of you.

#lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #✏️#🕯️#tfw you're trying to have a normal encounter with reader but your older brothers left someone out to die in the woods :/

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recallingrealities · 4 years

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Aligned, Chapter 1 (Zelda Spellman x Reader)

Tags + Prompt:

Zelda Spellman x Reader

(possibly Madam Spellman x Reader as well?? This would not be immediate, so we will see)

(there will be NSFW, but each chapter will be tagged separately)

Set Right after the end of Season 3 of CAOS, possible contextual spoilers ahead.

Reader is a young pagan, who covenless, has been practicing magic under the worship in Greendale. Through her times in mediation and contact with the Goddess, Y/N has been mastering the art of “the Sight” making her a seer, with powers of clairvoyance and others, as the Goddess wills it. After direct request of Lilith, she sends you to join the Academy of the Unseen arts, and join a coven where her will and plan may unfold for you.

Chapter 1: So Mote it Be

It had been some time since the pagans had been defeated, and the details of Hell’s management had quieted. After Sabrina’s return, Zelda was happy enough to have some level of normalcy after the array of chaos that had ensued under her rule as Directrix. In all honesty, worshiping Lilith was becoming a whole other avenue of convenience, now that their powers had been re-imagined by the Great Goddess herself. Some believed it to be Hecate, where others enjoyed the inclusiveness of “The Goddess”, or namely, Lilith, which I am sure she didn’t mind. The Goddess had taken many faces, young witches were to learn of the embracing of their own inner Goddess, divine femininity, and what the Directrix and High Priestess referred to as “the Divine self”. This was something that any witch could learn to embody, in engaging the Divine self, it was said to be a source of intimate divine energy, a well of power and trueness to whom, if embraced, one had the capability of being written in history; like those witch ancestors that came before them. Lilith included. The story of her discovering her power, took the refusal to submit to Adam, and her acknowledgement of being his equal. Though this had her cast out of Eden, it resulted in the acknowledgement and the beginning of her harnessing the power of her divine self. There was a power in this new form of worship and study. Once Sabrina had come back, and their powers were restored with new vibrance, and... without the internal conflict and looming will of the Dark Lord over everyone's shoulder, the Academy was bustling with new inspiration from young witches and warlocks alike. Not only was the school blooming with new students, but new branches of study, and faculty as well. Members of the Church of Lilith, were solidifying the young, thriving coven. What had seemed so chaotic before, and what Zelda Spellman couldn’t help but take personally, had now become a beacon of growth, as poised and poignant as their Directrix. New possibilities were budding at what seemed like, every turn.

Today marked the beginning of the Academy’s newest endeavor. The High Priestess was interviewing an inquiring witch for a possible position at the academy. Something, typically arranged upon Ms. Spellman’s inquiry, not vice versa. But at the audacity, Zelda couldn’t help but agree on meeting this ‘Y/N’. Someone with that much gall, could be trouble to the coven, or conversely an extremely valuable asset. The Spellman family, and outside of that, Prudence Blackwood, had made up the boldest members to walk the grounds. Perhaps fresh blood could be what the academy needed to rise up to its full potential, something Miss Spellman found tantalizingly irresistible as a possibility. At that, a firm knock echoed through the doors of the academy. Most who entered had already been members, and the council certainly wouldn’t have knocked. At this resonating echo, the halls of the school were certain to embrace a surge of new energy; at the very least, a wave of fresh gossip regarding whomever was to enter. Ms. Spellman, of course, knew who would be arriving that day, and prepared Ambrose Spellman accordingly, to greet and guide you to her chambers, upon arrival.

As Ambrose opened the large hardwood door, he took a fleeting moment to cock his head and grin pleasantly.

“Ms. Y/N, do come in. The High Priestess has been expecting you.”

You nod simply, noting the young man's polite yet flirtatious quality as you step through the threshold of the large doorway. A sudden whir of images crashes through your mind as both feet have now entered, aligned smoothly on the tile mosaic. You breathe deeply through your nose, taking in the array of premonitions, steadying yourself to prevent any distraction from your newest endeavor.

“Welcome to the Academy of Unseen Arts.”

He hums, turning around to admire the towering statue which lay in the center of the Academy’s main hall. Four women are shown standing, clearly. The Maiden, Mother, and Crone of course, in their traditional positions as marked by many statues. However, this one being customarily different, showing Lilith as its fourth member, honoring who was known as the first and Mother of witches. It seemed to greet and draw the face of whomever enters, in this case being you. Facing you, she kneels below the Mother. Her arms are open, as if to embrace the wisdom of the first imparted knowledge; as the first witch and woman, of humankind. The three faces of the Goddess have a mysterious quality to them, at least by Y/N’s seeing, Lilith’s seems most personable, taking the shape of her young face before she had taken on the Wardwell body. It was as if “The Sight” as you called it, revealed this statue's abilities to show you who was Mother, Maiden, and or the death Crone during a time in which it may be needed, for you alone to see. A thought came to your mind, w wondering if this was the Goddess’s exact intention. You blink hard, before giving a soft smile to admire Lilith. You kneel down on one knee and touch one of Lilith’s hands kindly, before standing again to meet eyes with Ambrose. He felt as if he had just witnessed something quite intimate. He wasn’t sure what had gone through your mind just then, when admiring the statue and woman illicitly. He assumes you had fond ties to the Goddess, and perhaps Lilith herself.

“I presume you enjoy our new statue. The last one didn’t last very long and was incredibly tasteless, but I enjoy this one much better”

He jokes, commenting on the cringey nature of the statue Father Blackwood had posed there temporarily. He gave a shiver before smiling.

“This one definitely has a way of speaking, erm, intimately to some. At the very least it lightens up the room.”

You smile confidently now, more than ever drawn towards the force that had guided you to the Academy in the first place, almost overlooking the awkward comment that left the charming Ambrose’s lips. He touches the back of his neck before speaking again.

“Well, I have no doubt that the Directrix would like to see you immediately, but if you would like I would be more than happy… to give you a tour later”

He turns, before guiding you down the hall, and up the stairs to the High Priestess’s office.

After leading you to the door, Ambrose pauses before you hear the strong, deep voice of Zelda Spellman, who must have known you were standing out front.

“Do come in Ambrose I won’t have you doddling idly.”

At that the door swung open by incantation and he gestures for you to come inside.

“That’ll be all Ambrose.”

She dismisses him curtly before the gentleman quickly evaded, looking as if he was going to bid adieu, but at the Directrix’s look, decided it would be best to just leave. Giving you a boyish smile and quiet nod, he shuts the door behind him. You were greeted by the back of a handsome woman in a sophisticated leather armchair, whom ringlets of smoke encircled her head.

“You may sit down, if you were waiting for an invitation”

She said flatly, before turning her chair to face you. Her fiery red ringlets were framing her shoulders and face. One whom you hadn’t seen before but felt hauntingly familiar with.

“If you insist, High Priestess”

You retort politely before sitting down with a naturally confident composure, on the black laced love seat across from her and her large dark-wooden desk.

“Thank you for having me, Directrix-”

“Spellman”

She finished the sentence for you, before slipping off a pair of thinly framed glasses. She carefully set down a stack of papers it looked like she had been reading before you entered.

“Tell me, Y/N, what bid you so bold as to inquire to me illicitly for a position at the Academy. Traditionally, one is invited to such a facility as a member of our Coven. To visit, let alone to be employed here to teach the minds of our young Witches, I’d have to say you are the first to inquire in such a bold manner. Indulge me, what talents do you feel are so urgent as to insist upon seeing me?”

You allow her words to hang in the air from her red lips, pulled taut as she awaits your reply. Once she pauses, you set down your purse behind the seat’s clawed foot, not wanting to give her anything less than your undivided attention.

“Lilith herself, sent me.”

She stiffened. At that, Zelda’s attention was officially caught. Her eyes widened slightly, before she leaned over to relite her cigarette, which at that, had blown out.

“You see, High Priestess, I was a pagan witch long before that group of carnies made their way through Greendale. I had been privately practicing and worshiping the triple Goddess, and had felt a specific draw to Lilith as a young girl. It has always been a relationship to me strange, and intimate in the sense that she was unheard of, it felt like outside of Christianity let alone in a town as small as Greendale. In a repugnant, disgracing manner at that. It felt as though she had reached out towards me, not the contrast.I had learned of my abilities and practices, quietly, in the confidence of the Goddess herself”

Though Zelda didn’t overtly expose it, despite what you revealed, she was impressed with the way you formed your words, and maintained composure during her dogging of you.

“So what you are telling me is that you are a witch, with active magic, might I add, that never had her dark baptism?”

She leaned back in her chair.

“Correct, I never signed my name in the Book of the Beast. I never had any sort of baptism, dark or light, and have lived and learned about my powers through Meditation, and constant contact with Lilith, and the many faces of the Goddess alike.”

At that, you and Zelda Spellman were both covered in goosebumps, as if a chill from another plane had run over the both of you. You couldn’t help but feel Zelda’s eyes leer; but in curiosity, not out of disgust or disrespect, as one might have assumed by her hard exterior. It felt unexpected as an undertone to notice, and it was as if the Directrix was catching a whole other level of your attention.

“As far as my talents Miss Spellman,”

You continue,

“I wield whatever the Goddess wills me to. But once I came across the knowledge that your Coven did not psiphon their powers directly from Lilith, but in another manner, I became fully aware of just how intimate a relationship I had with her.”

At this moment, Zelda didn't know whether to be enraged or if her beffalment had sent waves of fear through her. How did she know anything about her Coven, let alone such intimate interactions? Zelda presumed Lilith would not divulge such things to a stranger, no matter how personally dedicated this young witch was. She was feeling not fear in the sense of needing to run, but in shock at the level of intimacy she seemed to infer having, through communion with Lilith herself. Had this been solely apart of the Order of Hecate, and how much was Lilith intertwined with it? Likely, Zelda had a feeling, more than she even knew, She was exasperated to learn the Goddess would or could bestow such a gift on a covenless witch, without any formal study. That which information so intimate of the Coven, outside of herself, only Sabrina might know. This was all information that was discussed under high caliber of protective magic, and confidence on Lilith’s part.

It was then, Zelda remembered the tension that her and Lilith had had in the Academy’s main Rotunda. Though rooted in sexual tension, she witnessed Lilith’s softness, a side she had never witnessed in the woman. She had been ready to bestow - something, in return for their prayer and dedication to her; but that was a flame quickly dampened by Zelda’s own pride. She had decided openly that the Coven would seek its power elsewhere, at least for that moment.

She had no idea that Lilith herself could activate or have the Goddess unearth the powers in a young witchling. Something now, she could see must have had time to season in the young, astute woman before her. You tucked a curl behind your ear before continuing.

“If I am being forward with you High Priestess, the Goddess has sent me here to bestow upon this Church and Academy, my gift of the Sight. I am a Seer by nature in a sense a bit more forward than Tarot or rune reading”

You let a small smile slip between your words.

“Though card magic is something typically a tool of Seers, the realm of capability, if bestowed, can be quite more expansive than that. The Goddess sent me here, though I am not one to try and assume Lilith’s intentions, to have me join your Coven. If you will it, and become a member of your faculty, so that I may teach your students about the powers of intuition, and the unearthing of powers that do not require spellcraft as you know it. If I am to be so bold, it could also act - possibly… as a reward for your returning dedication to Lilith, and newfound dedication towards the triple Goddess”.

At that Zelda was speechless. With such personal information of the Coven's decisions, and her own acclaimed interactions with Lilith, it could be that she was bluffing. However the likelihood of Lilith sending a gift, a clairvoyant… did seem unpredictable, and in that sense, quite her style. The High Priestess let a few moments pass in silence, taking a drag of her cigarette, and slowly releasing the smoke to curl from her nostrils. Though you didn’t show it, you couldn’t help but admire this woman's beauty. Something about the High Priestess's behavior, though a bit callous, felt endearing to you. Powerful like a mother dragon, and more of an embodiment of the Goddess herself than you believed even the Spellman could recognize.

“So what you are telling me is, is that Lilith herself sent you?”

“Yes”

“And that you experience visions, a sight unseen such as premonitions, and clairvoyance, whilst being a witch, not a mortal”

Zelda felt as though the clarification was imperative, a confidant of the Goddess or not.

“That's part of it, yes”

You stated again, with a bit more diction and gentle clarity, now locking eyes with Zelda.

The Directrix was aware of Sabrina’s mortal friend, Roz, and her gift of ‘the cunning’, but if this were as expansive as you were implying, especially in Zelda’s knowledge of ‘The Old Power’… her mind was racing. It was then in your eyes linking, your gaze transfixed hers, exploring the insides of Zelda’s mind. Though you didn’t invade her thoughts directly, it was then, Zelda became unable to speak. She felt almost like the woman across from her, though beautifully composed in this questioning, was looking beneath her soul with her jade blue eyes.

Zelda felt her breathe become quietly labored, as she pulled another drag from her cigarette, unable to break her gaze from you. It was then that you spoke up, releasing it.

“The darkness in a woman is such that, stripped of our sight, we must feel our way through it - we crawl, we enter our circles of Hell until we sympathize with her sorrow, until we learn for her rage." You spoke tepidly.

If Zelda hadn't been completely enthralled in the unexpectancy that was occurring throughout this conversation, this quote would have left her shaking. This was the last quote Zelda had read this morning, by Segovia Amil. It was often rumored in the old texts that a witch could prophesize and view the reflection of her own thoughts through the readings she happened upon. This was something Zelda had been experimenting with through the sifting of her books of poetry, flipping through and randomly selecting a poem each morning to ponder on for the day. It was something fairly easy to experiment with in poems; and this was the quote that the High Priestess had spent her day examining between her more formal tasks. Perhaps a reflection of her complicated ties with Lilith. Maybe a personal prophecy of her own dwellings in growth, but at the moment, it had been the final shock she had needed to hear from Y/N before making her decision. Rather than questioning what you clearly knew, likely with even more to reveal at a moment's notice, she found herself finally able to speak, breaking the long drawl of silence.

"For someone with no formal training, our Academy would be honored to have you, as the will from our Goddess dictates. and the will of my own.”

She was not only impressed with the woman in front of her poise and clear skill beyond what she knew to expect, but also the mysterious aura you seem to embody. It felt to her, that the longer you had been sitting there, maintaining a cool, collected composure, the more Zelda herself felt as if her insides would come undone at any moment.

“We would be more than pleased to not only have you become a member of our Coven-"

She readjusted the papers in front of her, attempting to maintain if not regain her composure

"and teach you any formalities of spellcraft as I am sure you will be teaching us. I will go over the formalities of your time here at the Academy, and if you wish. Most professors live here on campus, within the chambers in accordance to your office. This is not a requirement, however highly recommended and a tradition of those who have taught at this school over the centuries it has stood."

She proceeded.

"Ms. Y/N, If I came off as severely questioning may you note it as respectful, as this Academy is my home, and a safe haven for the Witchdom of Greendale. My atonements for questioning the will of our Goddess, who in a moment of mercy and generosity has bestowed us with your gifts. I do hope that you will accept my apology and know you are... an honored addition to our Academy."

Zelda knew if Ambrose had been outside listening, he would have been shocked to hear Zelda apologizing. It was not in her nature to do so. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had done her best to deal with this situation professionally. She was at least confident that she had kept her composure, mostly. When your Jade blue eyes had locked locked hers, it felt as if you had sift through her memories. It was now that you found Zelda’s eyes drifting from yours to your mouth.

“I would be honored High Priestess”.

You seemed to interrupt her thought before she stood up and moved beyond the desk to take your hand. Outstretched, she took yours in both of hers to shake it. At that, there seemed to be a surge of electricity that shot through you at her immediate touch, as the smallest smile showed on Zelda’s lips. Her gorgeous green eyes were observing your fingers for just a moment as she shook our hand. You did not expect her to look so beautiful, but you were now seeing another side of her, and in closer proximity.

“Welcome to our circle Y/N. In the name of the Goddess, Praise Lilith”

“Praise Lilith” you repeated genuinely, as you had so many times before, in confidence.

You could have sworn your heart was racing with her so close to you, just an inch of kindness in her composure. After she released your hand she seemed to return to her neutrality, behind her desk. She lifted the stack of papers that was before her and placed them in a drawer to her right.

“Well, arrangements will be made to have your office and room prepared for you promptly, and you may convene to move in as soon as you’d like. Classes do not fall into session for a short while, and you should have plenty of time to make yourself comfortable”

As you turned to leave, making your way towards the door, you could’ve sworn you felt her eyes rake over you, a heat rising in yourself that you were not expecting. Was this your intuition, or perhaps the sight molding your perception? You turned to give her a soft smile before exiting, and sure enough her eyes moved upwards from your hips to meet yours in adieu before the door shut crisply behind you.

After you left Zelda felt herself pale, and tired. She poured herself a half inch of bourbon, to help her breathe for a moment at what had just happened.

“Praise Lilith”

She sighed beneath her breath before taking a sip and leaning back in her chair. She felt a reassured faith in the unpredictable Goddess, but had not expected to have her memories probed this afternoon. Not to mention, she found you exquisitely beautiful; and she wasn’t sure what amused her more. Your wit and composure, or just how powerful an inkling of your magic felt to her. It was as if when she touched you, electricity had shot through her entire body, and though she wasn’t sure where it had come from, she was looking forward to having you in the Academy’s walls, and to get to know you further.

#zelda spellman x reader #caos fanfiction #zelda spellman #zelda spellman fanfiction #the chilling adventures of sabrina #chilling adventures of sabrina #self insert #reader insert #miranda otto #Aligned fic #mine #madam spellman

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beyondconfessor · 4 years

Text

Principle Decisions [1/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

She fingered the card, drawing her nail over its edges. It had an entirely over the top design, with a bright red background and black lettering. Despite how over-the-top she felt the graphic design was, Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

As if it had burned her, she dropped the card on her desk. On its back, the card presented the phone number and email address of the woman. Terribly gauche: [email protected].

The business card––if you could even call it that––had been slipped out of the jacket of a new book she’d purchased, and since her discovery of it, Zelda’s eyes had been drawn to it, a strange temptation pulling at her.

She’d only bought the book as a way to offer an olive branch to Hilda. If her sister weren’t so terribly awkward around any mention of sex, she would have wondered if she had been the one to slip the card into the book. No, likely the so-called dominatrix had wandered through the shop and decided that the newest bestseller would be an excellent place to advertise her business.

The sheer gall of the woman.

It had been some time since she’d engaged in any sexual relationship. Since Edward’s passing, Zelda’s world had been entirely taken up with raising Sabrina. Hilda had helped, of course, given that she was the original caretaker of Ambrose––but the bulk of Sabrina’s raising rested on her shoulders. Between that and balancing her work at the Academy, Zelda had little time to date.

And in the few times, she did date she would inevitably end up exhausted by the need to care for someone’s emotional needs on top of her family and usually wound up requesting that they never see each other again.

At least if she engaged with a sex worker, she wouldn’t have that issue.

A knock came at the door of her office, pulling her from her thoughts.

“One moment,” Zelda said, before taking the card and hastily set in the drawer of her desk. She should throw it away into the wastepaper bin, tear it up into pieces, and yet she found herself pushing the drawer shut, feeling a strange temptation dim but not entirely die away. “Come in,” she called.

The door pushed open, and her niece stood in the doorframe, bag slung over her shoulder as she stepped into the room. “How was work?”

“Busy,” Zelda sighed, rising from her chair. “How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Nothing happened, today?” Zelda inquired.

“Well,” Sabrina began, bouncing on the heels of her shoes. “Principle Wardwell did go on a warpath against Coach Craven. That was pretty cool.”

“Wardwell? Isn’t Hawthorne the principle there?”

“No, he left over Summer. It was in the news bulletin.”

Zelda rolled her eyes as if she cared to read that. The PTA and Parent-Teacher nights had always been Hilda’s realm of experience. There were limited choices of schooling in the area, and Baxter High had more students going off college than Riverdale. And like hell, she was sending Sabrina off to some boarding school as her parents had done with her, Edward and Hilda.

Collecting her day planner and unmarked essays, she began sliding them into her bag as she asked, “so why did your new Principle go on an alleged war party?”

“Craven said that Theo couldn’t join the men’s football team. So Roz and I complained to Wardwell, and she stormed off and immediately told him off in the middle of try-outs. It was…pretty awesome actually.”

“It’s definitely a way to make enemies,” Zelda said. “Take it from me, Sabrina. Public humiliation may force someone to obey for the moment, but they’ll look for any opportunity to enact their revenge.”

Sabrina’s lips pressed shut, her excitement dying. “I thought it was pretty great, actually. He should be called out for his actions.”

“And the best place to do that is in a formal setting,” Zelda said as she switched off the office light. Stepping into the hall, she drew the door shut and locked the door. “In a position of leadership, especially one so newly forged, it’s better to think about the long term effects of a stable work environment. Sowing discord will only turn the other teachers against her.”

“Well, the students love her,” Sabrina pointed out defiantly, missing the point.

With a sigh, Zelda drew up and rolled her shoulders. Her niece was sixteen, thinking the whole world revolved around her. Students came and went, but the teachers would remain, and if Principle Wardwell wanted to keep her job, it would be in her interest to make friends with the staff.

“How did your classes go?” she asked, deferring to a safe topic as they walked out of the university’s grounds to the parking lot. Sabrina began babbling beside her, discussing her recent marks in English and History, the study group she’d formed and then quietly toeing away from discussion of one particular class.

“Didn’t you have an exam for French today?”

Sabrina flushed, fiddling with her bag. “I…passed.”

Zelda paused, turning to look at her niece directly. “Define a pass.”

“C plus?”

Zelda bit back the flared anger as she pressed her lips together, watching as Sabrina squirmed under her scrutiny. “Perhaps I should switch to speaking French at home, then?”

“No, I hate it when you do that. Look, it barely makes up my grade, I’ll fix it up with the essay at the end of the month, and then I’ll be back to being an A-minus student.”

“Yes, well, unless you want your allowance to drop—“

“Come on! That’s hardly fair. It’s not like we live in France. I don’t even see the point in why I have to take this stupid class. ”

“Language is important, Sabrina. When you travel, you can’t just go around assuming everyone speaks English. By your age, I already spoke Italian and French fluently. By my twenties, I’d learnt Mandarin, German and Latin. Now, there are few languages that I don’t speak in one dialect or another.”

“I know, but…I don’t even know if I want to travel.”

“Of course you do,” Zelda said. “Everyone travels, or you’ll end up like your Aunt Hilda, working in a bookshop with no idea of how the world works.”

Sabrina went quiet as they arrived at the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, drawing her bag into her lap and buckled her seatbelt with a stony face.

Zelda drew in a breath, setting her own bag on the backseat before sitting down into the driver’s seat. Sabrina had always been soft for Hilda, defending her against Zelda any time she made a sniping comment towards her.

Perhaps the comment had been a little harsh. Only last night had the three of them broke out in an argument after Hilda advised that she would be permanently working at Cerberus Books and not just ‘helping out’ as she initially advised. Honestly, a retail assistant? Hilda had as fine an education as she had, and now Zelda was an academic, teaching at Greendale University, and Hilda…worked in a bookshop.

Not to mention the sudden talks of her moving out. Ambrose was still at university, in his final year of his masters, and Sabrina still had another year and a half before she was off, flying around the world before she settled on a college.

Leave? Unlikely. It was an empty threat Hilda proposed to hurt her.

They drove home in silence, with Sabrina’s growing bad mood taking up the space of the car. By the time that they arrived home. Sabrina didn’t even wait for the engine to switch off before she was unbuckling her seatbelt and running up the steps of the house.

Zelda paused, watching her niece push open the front door, likely to remain hidden in her room until summoned for dinner. She considered following up the stairs to Sabrina’s room and advising of how unacceptable her actions were, and yet the day felt heavy on her shoulders. She didn’t want another argument with Sabrina.

She didn’t want another argument. If Hilda would stop being so selfish, they could actually take the time to raise the children.

Stepping out of the car, she pulled out her bag from the backseat and then locked the doors behind her––not that it really mattered, they were so far out from any neighbours that there was a more pressing concern for a bear to get into the car, rather than a burglar.

She passed Ambrose sitting on the veranda, a book of poetry in grip and a glass of wine sitting next to him (in a tumbler, which she did take offence to, they owned perfectly suitable wine glasses).

“Auntie,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How fairs the undergrads?”

“Fine,” she remarked. “I had the pleasure of seeing Prudence today.”

“Oh?” he remarked casually. “I had thought she’d have dropped out by now.”

“She asked about you.”

Ambrose seemed to pause, biting on the inside of his cheek before he gave a strained smile. “And should I go running into her arms again because she inquired as to how I was going?”

Zelda stared at him and watched as his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“Don’t apologise when you don’t mean it, or learn to lie better.” She paused, watching guilt wash over his face. “You should speak to her. At the very least it might bring you the much-needed closure you require to move on.” Before he could say anything further, she brushed past him, entering into the foyer of the home.

A door slammed upstairs, signalling her niece’s growing foul mood. But unlike Ambrose, who often drowned the house with music to signal his moods, a stillness followed the slammed door.

Her eyes drew up to the stairs, a part of her wanted to seek out Sabrina and apologise before she snuffed out the very desire to do so. Instead, she drew to her home office and set her bag down, drawing out her computer and essays, preparing herself for evening work to be completed after dinner.

Drawing into the kitchen, she noticed that Hilda was already at the stove, stirring around what looked to be onion and mince. At the same time, she had an assortment of diced vegetables running on another element beside it.

“Evening, sister.”

“Oh! Zelds. I thought it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” she asked, going to the cupboards to pull out the dishes. Usually, it was Sabrina’s job to set the table for dinner, but she could wash up and dry the dishes after dinner, given her impetuous mood.

“Oh, well…” Hilda spluttered, before turning to look over her shoulder. “So, what did you think of Doctor Cee’s little shop? Quite the business, hm? And the café has been busy of late!”

Zelda bit her tongue to stop the first thoughts she had from coming out. She set down the plates before looking at her sister and catching the hesitation.

“It’s…good that you’re happy,” she said, feeling other words rise in the back of her throat. She swallowed them back and smiled at her sister, hoping it came across genuine enough.

Hilda returned the smile, and it was enough to unknot the growing anxiety in her chest. Perhaps they could make it through dinner without another argument. “And have you given the book a look, yet? It’s flying out of the store lately. A real page-turner.”

Zelda gave a small nod. She’d got as far as the first page before the card had slid out onto her desk.

Swallowing, she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, trying to not think of the words.

Dominatrix. She shivered, remembering what it was like to feel rope twist around her hands.

In her early twenties, she’d engaged in an assortment of different forms of BDSM with different partners, both on the receiving and giving end. And yet something about that embossed lettering brought a flicker to a long lost flame inside of her.

It had been…a long time—at least two years since she’d engaged in anything other than masturbation. The dating pool in Greendale and Riverdale was small enough that, inevitably, everyone knew everyone––and given her position, casual sex would only lead to complications. The last thing she needed was another man at her office, begging for a date.

Or a woman leading insistent voicemails on the landline.

But a dominatrix would be discreet. And it would just be an itch, after all.

A part of her worried. It could be a student she’d taught, trying to make extra money to pay for their education. Or it could be a number of acquaintances––someone from the board?

It could be Shirley. That thought sent a cold feeling down her spine.

“Zelds?”

She looked up, realising her sister had asked her a question. “Pardon?”

“I was just asking if you started the book.”

“Oh, just the first few pages. I’ll get to it on the weekend.”

Hilda squinted at her before stepping forward. “You’re looking a little flushed. You’re not coming down with the flu, are you? You’re always working yourself sick.”

“I’m fine,” she said, stepping away from her sister. “I’ll go tell Ambrose and Sabrina to wash-up, shall I?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose dinner will be made in a moment.”

____________

#zelda spellman #lilith #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic #morgan writes #morgans fics

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ancientechos · 4 years

Text

Avail

FFXIVwrite2020 | Masterlist

Ship: Emet-Selch x Arianna Rowen [WoL]

Expac/Verse: somewhere after ShB probably including 5.3, no real spoilers though except for Emet’s true name

Words: 1009 words

He has absolutely no idea where she’s picked up the accursed automata, but he would sorely like to find out.

“Isn’t he charming?”

Hades is quite aware she is fond of that word; even before everything, she had been taken to calling things she liked charming. And for the most part, he could, to a certain extent, understand why she would choose such a description.

Aster and Ambrose, for instance: balls of veritable fluff with enormous, round eyes, they coo and huddle together as much as they dote upon the hyuran woman. Even he can tell the creations are quite cute. Even charming.

But this?

This carelessly constructed simulacrum of himself, tiny in stature, exaggerated in features, is most certainly not cute in any way he can think of. And yet Arianna can look upon its juvenile face and call it charming.

It can do naught but scurry after her, not even capable of the most basics of communication. Yet she smiles and coos over it once it does no less than collide with one of her legs, picking it up and hugging it to her chest, patting at its artificial hair, even having the gall to kiss it on its forehead.

And he can swear that that automata looks far too pleased with itself to find him glowering at it.

His patience draws thin. Hades can tolerate it no longer. So he finally devises a way to get rid of the thing for once and for all.

“Arianna,” he purrs one afternoon as she discreetly grinds away at some herbs in her mortar, preparing some poultice or another, or perhaps a bag of tea. Sauntering toward her, he hooks fingers beneath her chin to pull her up to look at him so he might kiss her. Soundly ignoring the sensation of something colliding with one of his booted feet, he snaps the automata out of existence.

Though, without the finger snap, that would simply shock the woman, not to mention alert her of his ultimate plan.

To his pleasure, this simple trick seems to be effective in drawing her attention; she does not question the disappearance of the sorry simulacrum that had been mere moments before sitting upon one of her feet. Not even when he tests the waters of her awareness and asks her for a cup of tea.

Though he reflects, sitting at the table with his cup, that, perhaps he shouldn’t have.

“Hmm? Where is the little windup?”

“Not a clue,” he says, smooth as silk, as he takes a sip of his drink. “Wonderful tea, by the way. As always.”

“I hope he didn’t get stuck in anything...”

How annoying. “I’m sure it’s just gone for a walk. It’ll be back before you know it.”

“Truly? I hope he enjoys his walk, then...”

And the creature is not seen again for the rest of the day, nor does Arianna bring it up. For once.

________

Hades shifts into a more comfortable position as he lounges in Arianna’s gardens, the scent of herbs and other flowers wafting about him. Managing to be vaguely comforting, along with the heat of the sun beaming down upon him -- a perfect place for sleep.

Though as he moves, he catches sight of Arianna, returning home.

And for once in his life, he hopes that, perhaps, maybe, he is, in fact, going senile, as the more mulish of the Leveilleur twins likes to put it.

But, alas. Such flights of fancy are not meant to be.

Somehow the thing has found its way back, happily clutched within Arianna’s arms, a basket hooked over her elbow.

He’s on his feet before she’s even breached the gate and shut it behind her. She nearly bumps into him with a startled squeak, not expecting his abrupt approach.

“H-Hades...?!” she stammers in surprise, nearly dropping at least one of her cargo.

“Where did you find that?” he manages to not-quite-demand, nodding to the automata blinking up at him smugly.

“Oh, Emmy?”

Emmy...? Of course she’s given it a name.

“I-I suppose he must have gotten lost on the way home...” Her quiet voice trails off as her brows furrow in consternation. “I found him waiting outside when I left earlier. He looked so sad...”

Of course it did. Why would it not? “I see...what a shame.”

“Y-yes, he must have been so frightened on his own...”

That hadn’t been what he had been referring to, but no matter.

No matter what he does, he cannot seem to get rid of that little travesty. Even when he warps it off to another shard, to no avail: it somehow manages to find its way back, even if it takes a blessed day or two. Which begs the question: by her twelve, who had made such a thing? He can’t think of anyone who would wish to go through the effort to make the automata, nor who could even bestow it such abilities to be so damnably troublesome.

At least he can shut Aster and Ambrose out of the bedroom. This thing simply comes and goes as it pleases, utterly intent to mock and vex him.

Of course, Arianna does not especially care so long as she can dote upon it.

“Do you truly like that thing so much?”

“Of course. I love it.”

Hmph. “Surely it can’t be as scintillating as the real thing.” Perhaps some vague attempt at nursing his pride, or perhaps a jab to see what she’ll say in response. Even he isn’t entirely sure.

“Y-you are both...equally charming, B-but of course...” The way she trails off and stutters tells him what she has to say is most likely interesting, so he deigns to give her his full attention as he blinks calmly down at her. “O-of course I love you more.”

-- Ah, perhaps that accursed thing doesn’t win at everything around her.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #emet selch x wol #emet selch x arianna #emet selch #arianna #arianna rowen #fanfic #w: the dreamer and the architect #my writing #mine #ffxivwrite #avail? perfect word to write something amusing and vaguely crack-y #i think this is hilarious even if no one else does bye

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ambrosewolf · 3 years

Text

Pack Retribution

SUMMARY: Ambrose is attacked by a werewolf with a grudge against the River’s pack bring out a dark secret from the pack’s sortied history

TRIGGERS: murder tw, blood tw, gore tw

WRITTEN WITH: @ofwesvlys, @bullshitwizcrd

Ambrose: Ambie was just closing up his shop ensuring all the animals would be well taken care of for the night. He'd made plans to hang out with John and Wesley which made him more excited then he could possible understand. It had been so long since he'd spent time with Wesley even if it wasn't alone he took great happiness from it. He'd just finished locking up his shop looking through his text seeing that John was going to grab Wes and meet him in the ally. He shot back his reply when he felt eyes on him, he didn't have time to process just who it was when he felt a dagger slash at his arm making him stumble back. "What the Hell??!!" He mused taking a more defense stand.

Jo: She had watched him for days now, trying to figure out who he was and what his connection to John was. She knew he was a wolf. That had been pretty obvious from the start. Which pack he came from, that was her real worry. Her fears were all but confirmed when she spotted the crest of the Rivers Pack on his arm. A bolt of fear had gripped her at the revelation but that was soon overtaken by anger and the need to protect what she had left. So she waited for him to be alone, watched all the employees leave and the wolf close the door to the pet shop. Faster than any human she moved, slashing at at arm with the knife she kept on her. She didn't say a word as she kicked him into the alleyway beside the building and out of sight of any nosy humans who might interfere. She growled low, her eyes flashing with anger as she advanced.

Ambrose: He didn't know this women, no not women, a werewolf that stalked him in the alleyway, he let out a grunt as she kicked him further from view loosing his phone in the process. He could feel the blood running down his arm covering his Pack Crest as he tried to think of a plan. He felt himself crawl away from the wolf, he never liked hurting people it just wasn't in him but he wasn't just going to lay down at take it either. Choosing not to show all his cards he chose first brute strength over his magic, looking around he noticed the trash can he'd been all but kicked into grabbing the lid he hit the knife out of her hand growling back before pushing and pinning her to the wall. "I'll ask again What the Hell do you think your doing?"

Jo: She felt the knife fall from her hand and went with her claws instead. He was strong. She could feel it as he held her against the wall but she strong too and she was angry. As he yelled at her that anger only grew. He wore that crest and had the gall to ask her why she was attacking him? She took hold of his arms and let her body weight drop only to swing both of her legs up and slammed her boots into his chest. She followed after him slashing again and again as her eyes blazed with fury. "I'm doing what I someone should have done years ago. I'm putting you down. You and the rest of your pack of savages!" Where there was one there was others and it was only a mattered of time before the rest of the Rivers Pack found her and finished the job they started. Only this time John would be a target too and she couldn't let that happen.

Ambrose: He felt her claws trying to scratch at him but he held her in place for a moment before he felt her strength as she kicked him in the chest sending him against the brick wall. He could tell she'd bruised his rib without even trying which allowed his brain to work in almost fast motions as he thought about who this was. In that moment he realized two things, She was a born werewolf much like Wesley, meaning his strength was nothing compared to hers and second it was his pack that caused so much trouble. He had no idea what she was talking about his pack was far from Savages as Wesley came to mind, he remembered the other was coming for him along with John he just had to hold out long enough. He grunted feeling her slash across his chest making more blood pour from his form before he yelled "KCAB FFO!" The spell propelled Jo back knocking her into the walls making her head bleed. "I'm not a savage and neither is my pack!" To survive he was going to need to use his gift even if it made the fight a bit unfair.

Jo: She had expected a fight but she hadn't expected, whatever it was that the other did. Her head hit the wall hard and she felt a vague fuzzy sensation trying to cloud her mind but her anger cut through that like a knife through butter as she shook it off. Whatever trick he used only meant he was that much more of a danger. She had to finish this. She strode toward him, cracking her neck as she felt her bones begin to shift under her skin. "No?" crack "What would you call call a group of wolves that slaughter others for no reason?" c-crack "I don't care what you call yourselves. It won't matter when you're all DEAD!" She lowered herself and her form shifted completely. She snarled baring her fangs as she charged at him.

Ambrose: He eyed the women he always forgot how powerful spells were, he felt a bit of guilt at hurting her but he couldn't allow her close to him with the amount of blood he'd loose. Her anger was too much he needed to think of a way to hold her so they could chat while he was lost in his thoughts he heard her bone shifting into her wolf form something he couldn't do. "I don't know what your talking about! I only joined them five years ago after they saved my life!" He tried to explain but it seemed a lost cause he was going to have to put her down but he could sense the hurt and pain coming off her in waves that when she shifted he moved with slightly enhanced speed out of her way so she ran into a another trash can. "Please Stop, I don't want to hurt you, especially given how much pain you are in now!"

Jo: In wolf form her human side took a back seat as she let her animal instincts take over. Like this his words didn't matter as much as things like his body language and emotions. She knew he was still fighting and when she hit the trashcan she used her momentum and the brick wall of the alley to get airborne. She leapt at him ready to tear him to bits. She hadn't heard him say he wasn't there when they killed her family. It didn't register that he was a fairly new turn. All that matter was he was them and she had to stop him before he called them and history repeated itself. She timed her strike perfectly as she felt her teeth sink into his arm and she bit down hard.

Ambrose: Knew that John and Wes were on their way he only had to hold out a little while longer and he could get their help in restraining this girl. Hopefully with Wesley came knowledge of what she was talking about he knew Shumani was quite an ass at the best of times always pulling the strongest of their pack to intimidate others but he never saw then out right kill anyone before unless an attack was coming from the other side. He didn't have time to utter a spell when he felt the wolf sink her teeth into his arm making him scream out in complete pain. The Teeth pulled as if trying to tear his skin from his bones when he heard the voices. Wesley and John had found his cracked phone and heard his scream of pain knowing that he had to get away from her less he arm be destroyed he mutter two things "I'm sorry, Diffindo" His Spell sent a thousand tiny blades to slice into the wolf hitting her side. When she howled he was able to get his arm out. He quickly moved away from her before sending another blasting spell sending her away from him. "JOHN!, WESLEY! HELP" He screamed feeling some of his blood loss in that moment.

JOHN: It was meant to be a quiet night with the boys. He'd promised Zatanna he'd stay out of trouble because she didn't want Ambrose to fall into anything and jeopardize his job and any sense of future. Blah blah blah. He heard that song a dozen times, but he kept his promise and tried not to drag the kid through the pits. With his hands in his pockets and the collar of his trench coat propped up to keep the bitter cold out of his bones, he walked down the sidewalk path with Wesley toward Ambrose's shop. They were meeting the young wolf there before heading to a dive bar not too far from the shop. John froze, cigarette still in his mouth, when he heard the kid yell for him. The sound was coming from an alley way next to the shop so John sprinted in that direction. He slid to a halt long enough to see the two wolves scrapping with each other. "Bloody hell!" He held out a hand, muttering a quick spell to keep both of them rooted in place so they wouldn't jump at each other again. The lighting in the alley was dim and dreadful, but he could make out the shape of Johanna. She was bleeding now almost as much as Ambrose was. "What in the seven hells is going on here?"

WESLEY: he was looking forward to the night out with john and ambrose. he hadn't gotten to do things like this a lot back at home, having too much fun would only make shumani mad, so he was gonna enjoy the normalcy of it. he'd been in the middle of cracking an admittedly bad joke when he heard the snarls and ambrose's shout for help. wes quickly took off after john, his enhanced speed allowed him to get to the alley first and once he saw the wolf with it's teeth in ambrose all he could see was red. with a running start he leapt at the wolf, shifting in mid air, putting himself between them. his teeth bared and hackles raised, growling deeply at the stranger almost daring them to try again.

Jo: Another wolf joined the fray and it was almost enough to make her back down. Fighting 1 on 1 was ok. But fighting 2 at once and with the one having whatever strange abilities, that was another thing. But John was there and surely he'd back her up right? Not that she wanted him to. Wolves fought hard and she didn't want the only human she ever trusted getting hurt. An idea came to her and without hesitation she acted on it. She felt whatever forced was holding her still flicker slightly and in that moment she broke free and charged the larger wolf. At the last second when her momentum was at it's highest she shifted back to human form and slid right under him. She scoped up the knife and had it at the young turned wolf's throat before anyone realized what was happening. But what the hell was she supposed to do now? "John go away! I'll handle them."

Ambrose: He watched Wesley turn full Wolf when he noticed the attack it had been years since seeing the male take on his wolf form which was always a sight that took his breath away. He could feel his blood puddling under him as he casted a small healing spell to keep his wits about him. "She attacked me claiming I killed her family...Well that my pack did" He mused slightly unnerved by that last part, how could someone as kind and sweet as Wesley kill someone's pack. He should've known better then to let his guard down when he felt the cold steel against his throat and the women behind him urging him to move less his throat get slit. When she spoke to John his gaze moved from one of fear to hurt, had John keep something from him about his new pack...or worse was he going to allow her to hurt him and Wesley? "John you know her?"

JOHN: "Ah for fucks sake," he sighed as Wesley joined the fray. It appeared John was the only one with brain cells today. That was dangerous in and of itself. "Johanna, put the knife down and Wesley put the bloody fangs away," he griped. Leave it to John to get involved in a fucking werewolf turf war. "I'm not going anywhere, luv," he assured Jo as he held out his hand for the knife. "Come on. These two are mates of mine and we don't hurt mates. Let's talk about this like rational, two legged beings yeah?" God he needed a drink. "Mate, don't look like I peed in your morning cereal," he replied when he saw Ambrose's hurt and accusatory eyes. "I know all three of yous so how about some introductions, yeah?" He placed a hand on his chest. "John Constantine, tired and not nearly inebriated enough for this mage. Then we have Ambrose Graves, my almost brother-in-law: it's complicated. Wesley Rivers, clearly in love with Ambrose. And here we have Johanna Pierce, a wolf pup I found after her pack was demolished. Now that we're all acquainted, we can't kill each other. So," he patted his pockets, looking for his smokes. "What the bloody hell is this about a pack attack? What's your involvement in it?" he asked, eyes turning to Ambrose and Wesley for answers.

WESLEY: the wolf was a stranger to wes, usually he recognized whoever it was that had a problem with the pack but not this girl... what was odd though was that her scent was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it at this distance. hearing john's complaints had him distracted at the moment when she went for the knife. seeing her with a knife to ambrose's throat only agitated both wes and his wolf even more... but her movements had let him get a better whiff of her scent, that tied in with john's introduction sparked a memory. years back when his brother started taking out packs, wes had followed the group and took a very fiesty pup to safety. he had tried to save more but he couldn't do much without drawing attention to himself. at this point wes knew there were two ways to keep ambrose from getting killed. one: john somehow summons zatanna's ability to get people to do what they want... which had a low probability of happening. two: wes gives himself up in ambie's place. that one had the highest probability of working even if it wouldn't turn out well for wesley. ignoring the protests from his wolf, wes shifted back to his human form and held his hands up in surrender "look, the pup had nuthin' to do with what happened back then." he glanced over at john before sighing "it's part of why i left. shumani wanted ta' expand the pack and he was bloody 'bout it. i've been trying to get him to stop but he won't listen ta' me anymore." he shifted his gaze to ambrose, giving him a look that hopefully said everything will be alright before looking back at the girl "johanna right? look, i was there that night your issue is with me."

Jo: Now that she was in human form again and there seemed to be a pause in the action her head was clearer. The rage she had felt had cooled now in favor of surviving this encounter. When the wolf changed back to a human and seemed to yield she was even more confused. "Pup? This one?" He glanced at her hostage, the knife still at his throat. The rest of the explanation came and a realization hit her. John hadn't run from them. He had arrived at the same time as the older wolf. The older wolf who she now knew also belonged to that pack. Did he know this whole time that they were there in the city?

Then the older wolf said her name and a flash of memory hit her just as she finally caught his scent. 'I was there' he'd said. Yes he was. She remembered. She remembered a wolf she didn't know taking her away from the fight. Away from her parents and hiding her. Leaving her alone to face the destruction his pack had wrought until John came. Without realizing it she lowered the knife as her legs shook. A tiny whimper came from her and if she was in her right mind she would have punched herself for such weakness. He was the one that hid her that night but, why? It didn't make sense. She wanted to run. She wanted to protect John. She wanted to tear the answers from that wolf's hide. In the end she could do none of those things and just stood there as that old fear gripped her heart in it's iron claws.

Ambrose: Ambrose took in everything around him, John's explanations along with Wesley's He'd knew That Shumani was quite the aggressor which left Wesley cleaning up whatever messes he could. Part of him ached for Wesley and the things he'd seen simply because he felt the need to protect his brother. "Its what he calls me, during my time with the pack I spent it with Wes as my trainer" He mused softly as he looked between the three it was obvious they all needed to talk especially Jo and Wes but part of him feared her reaction to him.

He felt Jo lower the knife as Wesley shot him a look saying everything would be alright but he felt his wolf growl at the idea of getting hurt in his place. He shot a look back that said You will not pay your brothers price before he slowly moved so he could look at Jo, he keep himself still close if she wanted to stab him but firmly placed himself between Jo and Wesley's forms. "I'm sorry Shumani did that to you, I had no idea about the past, All I know is Wesley's kindness is the reason I'm alive today. I can't begin to understand what you went through or how much this has changed you but if you are willing to put the knife away and listen calmly we can both get the whole story." He paused looking at John for a moment before returning his gaze back to Jo. "Please Johanna, let us help you"

JOHN: He sighed, running his hands over his face as Wes offered up a sacrifice play. They weren't kidding when they said love made ya absolutely fucking stupid sometimes. He noticed the small change in Johanna as Wes pleaded to switch places with Ambrose. Jo didn't remember much about that night and John didn't push her, but he could see a flicker of remembrance cross her face. And from the small sound that escaped her lips, she was remembering that night. "Johanna, love," He cautiously approached her and held out his hand for the knife. "I'm willing to vouch for these two. They're idiots, but they aren't monsters." Neither Wesley nor Ambrose would hurt someone intentionally. They were honestly probably better men then John because sometimes he couldn't say the same for himself. "I pulled you out that day and I made you a promise that you would be safe." It was dumb and he shouldn't have made a promise he couldn't keep, but he did. "You're safe with these people but you have to trust me on it."

WESLEY: this god damn reckless pup i swear every god out there is testing me wesley thought to himself as he bit back a growl after watching ambrose put himself in between himself and the girl. he didn't really want to get stabbed but ambrose had nothing to do with what happened... and yes, neither did wes but he could have tried harder to stop his brother... he could have challenged him. looking over at john he rolled his eyes "wow, thanks so much john." idiots. like he's one to talk. he scoffed before looking back to the girl "i know this is a lot to process, why don't we all just take a breath and we can talk this through." carefully, wes stepped up to stand by ambrose in case she tried to attack again.

Jo: There was too many emotions. Too many thoughts running through her head. So many revelations in one moment, it was overwhelming. Her brain battled with her instincts and her memories as she tried to make sense of all of this. John reached out his hand. Another memory. That same hand reaching for her as she growled at him as a pup, trying to protect her parents. Flash forward to a different memory of that same hand giving her food after days of eating nothing. A blanket when she was cold. The words of the others sat on the surface of her mind but John said they were safe. She held on to that like a life raft and nodded minutely. "I...I trust you. John." Hesitantly, she placed the knife in John's hand and stepped back from the other two wolves. Her arms automatically wrapped around herself, more or less as a form of security than to stave off the cold night air against her skin. They might have been safe and they might have said they wanted to help, but what help could they offer her now? Did she even want it from them? These thoughts were too complicated to tackle at the moment so instead she stepped closer to John and let the other two wolves return to each other.

Ambrose: He could tell that they were slowly getting through to her, part of him wondered what his pack was like before he'd joined and he knew with Joanna's arrival they could find out together. He could still feel the sting of her attack on his bones and the blood that now ruined his clothes. Feeling a naked Wesley directly behind him did little to focus his brain on the task at hand but he knew they couldn't very well walk around naked like this wolves or not. "I'm going to cast a clothing spell, while I'm sure this is beyond normal for you both I'd rather not see us all in jail for indecent exposure" He mused muttered a simply spell giving Johanna and Wesley their clothes back opening his chest wound again. "Fuck...okay where can we go to have this talk cause I need to focus on healing and some bandages" He mused moving to lean against Wesley's legs feeling slightly weaker then he meant to. He still needed to close the slash marks on his body if didn't want to sleep into a blood loss coma. "are you okay?" He whispered looking up at the older wolf hopefully he was alright.

JOHN: His gentle but focused eyes watched Johanna process the scene. It was a lot to take in. Had he known Wesley and Ambrose's pack was the one that ambushed hers, he would've helped them come to terms with this in a safer manner, but that was null and void now. "That's my girl," he smiled when she handed him the knife. John placed it safely in his pockets as Jo stepped off to the side, allowing the other two room to check on each other's wellbeing. John began to take off his trench coat to give it to Jo when Ambrose muttered a healing spell. "Mate!" John called out to him. He shouldn't have done that. He was already injured enough without performing additional magic. "The church is a couple blocks away, we can go there." He suggested. Zatanna's magic shop was closer but he didn't want to bring that up as an option. Not with her brother this injured. Zee would find out sooner or later what happened in the alley tonight, but he'd rather she find out once they were all patched up

WESLEY: seeing her give john the knife, wes relaxed slightly and turned his focus towards ambrose. he knew that he had to be in pretty rough shape already and doing more spells wasn't helping him any. "damnit pup, what did i tell ya' about over doing it?" there was a slight edge to his tone, but one look at wes you could see concern written all over him. "of course i'm fine, nuthin' happened to me." he wrapped an arm around ambrose's waist when he felt the younger wolf's weight on him "stop with the spells 'brose, if ya' wanted me to carry ya' around you can just ask." he grumbled before bending down to pick ambrose up "no need to make yourself pass out." wes looked over at john, nodding at the suggestion "i'll follow you and keep him from doin' any more spells."

Jo: Once again Jo was surprised when the younger of the two wolves did some sort of magic and suddenly she had clothes on. Truth be told she would have preferred the familiar trench coat John was about to hand to her rather than these strange things but she made no comment. She let the other wolves do their thing, the interaction between them was odd to her but she had other thoughts occupying her mind. There was no glance spared at them but she paused when she was close enough to John to speak softly while the other two were distracted. "I trust you. But if you knew they were here and said nothing..." Honestly she didn't know what she would do but she was sure his imagination could fill in the blanks. More than angry she felt hurt by all of this. He knew better than anyone what she had lived through, what the attack did to her and what it was still doing to her. To see him so at ease with them felt like a betrayal but she desperately wanted to believe it wasn't. She needed answers and she needed them now. Without waiting she stepped quickly and made her way to the church.

Ambrose: He felt himself glad that John had been able to get the knife away from Jo, he wanted to learn more about this story and if there was a way they could help her heal. He never would've thought that his pack had such a dark past. Wesley always made him feel welcome and like he belonged but to completely kill another simply over power and land was something he'd never stand by. "I know I see my mistake but they couldn't just stay naked!" He groaned before looking up at Wesley smiling softly as the male lifted him up "I'm not a pup, and you hardly ever give me what i want, But I promise no more magic tricks" He pouted rather cutely before snuggling closer to the male. He felt weak but his heart ached at Jo's words about John knowing something, John of course knew they were in town long before Christmas would their involvement ruin whatever relationship John had with Jo? He most certainly didn't want that. "So you'd rather take punishment from your Priest then my sister? That's rather smart seeing how quick she'd blame all of this you" He teased the other letting the other lead the way resting a bit.

JOHN: "I've known Ambie," he gestured toward Amborse, "since he was a teenybopper, Jo. I dated his sister. He only just became a wolf himself like five years ago. There's really no way I could've known the pack Ambrose joined was the same one that hurt your family. I never laid eyes on 'em," he pointed out. John himself had only been a little shit of 17 when he found Jo. John looked over his shoulder at the two lovers. "What's Jesse gonna punish me for, mate?" he shrugged. "I ain't done nothing wrong." Zatanna would see reason too, but he preferred not to drag this to her doorstep. Especially given that Jo was the one that threw the punches. "Come on, love," he crouched down, putting one of Jo's arms around his shoulder so that he could help the young injured wolf limp her way toward the church where they could both be cleaned and healed.

WESLEY: the wolf followed behind john, grumbling in spanish about how ambrose wouldn't just listen. he'd end up with grey hair because of it, wes knew it deep down but he also couldn't deny that he enjoyed every second of it. "oh ya' not a pup? my mistake." wesley smirked at ambrose "i'll make sure ta' not call ya' that no more. would hate ta' call ya' sumthin' ya not." no matter what ambrose says he'd always be a pup in wes' eyes, the younger wolf brought out a protective nature in him that he didn't fully understand... wes had never felt that way before. when they would end up reaching the church, wesley knew he'd have a lot to explain and answer for. while he may have been a kid himself at the time, he knew that what shumani was doing was wrong and he should have been more adamant against his decision of attacking jo's pack. he let out a small sigh before looking back down at ambrose "i hope ya' won't hate me too much after all this."

Jo: Jo listened as John explained his reasoning. It was all very sound logic and made perfect sense but the instincts in her still felt riled and tense. All of this was a lot to take in and she felt like her brain was splitting in two trying to wrap her head around it. She hesitated for only a moment before giving a small nod and putting her arm around John. His scent alone was comforting and she subtly leaned into his touch without really thinking about it. As they walked she watched the other two, wary but now more confused then anything. They made no sign to signal their pack, far too caught up in each other for that. Maybe...maybe she'd made a mistake. A dangerous one at that. She looked down feeling guilty and sore and tired. "I'm sorry. I thought they'd found us. M' sorry."

Ambrose: "I don't know you seem like the type with a punishment kink" He smirked listened to John's explanation before relaxing in Wesley's hold he had to admit if he wasn't in complete and utter pain he would've loved this show of protection and doting he was receiving at the moment. He had to admit his heart went out to Jo the girl seemed lost and broken but then who wouldn't be when their family was taken from them. "Well lets not get to hasty, Only you can call me pup no one else" he pouts cute trying to use puppy dog eyes at the older wolf giving him his full attention. He didn't even know how to explain how easily Wesley had stolen his heart but he had to stop and wonder just what type of things did Shumani really get Wes into. The male when he'd returned to the pack had placed him back in Wesley's care but at times he'd almost manipulation him when Wes voiced his disagreement towards something the alpha wanted. He could feel the hesitation and almost a hint of fear coming off Wesley as he moved to nuzzle his head under Wesley's chin "I could never hate you Wesley, I'm alive because of you...I shall listen to this story but I don't have much to stand on judging you. I've seen first hand how Shumani acted towards you and towards me when you disagreed with him." He replied softly meaning every word.

JOHN: "Ay, that's for the bedroom, not for daily living," he fired back playfully at Ambrose. He couldn't yet determine whether all of the affection between Ambie and the older wolf was disgustingly cute or just too much but he let them be as they walked toward the church. They'd been through enough, he'd reserve judgement for now. He could practically feel the self-hatred and loathing rolling off of Jo as she questioned her decisions. Jumping to violence had been extreme, but she was reacting on instinct and fear. Ambrose and Wesley would see that and they would forgive her. Each and every one of them had been in a position like this at least once in their lives. As they arrived at the church, John pulled out a spare key from under one of the hollowed out rocks and unlocked the door for them. It was late now and Jesse was likely asleep. He wasn't going to disturb him, but he would explain what he could in the morning. "Come on, in you go. Let's get you all out of the cold and healed up."

WESLEY: he let out a quiet grunt, more of a laugh really, but a gruff laugh... whatever the noise he made was called he made it at the quick backtracking that ambrose was making. wes was quiet the rest of the way to the church, partly lost in his thoughts and partly lost in his memories of that night. he had hoped that the actual pup would have been too young to remember the carnage that the night had turned into, hell he wished that he could forget all the carnage that his brother had brought... but life didn't always work out nicely. at the mention of shumani wes was pulled from his thoughts, a look of almost disbelief on his face from ambrose's words "sweet thing" he sighed lightly "shu' is so much worse than ya' know... zatanna scared 'im pretty good so he didn't try much when you was there..." he trailed off as the entered the church. wesley moved inside and gently set ambrose down on one of the benches, inspecting his wounds as best he could. "jo... i'll uh, i'll answer any questions you have. whatever ya' want to know just say tha' word and i'll start talkin'." his dark eyes glanced over towards jo and john for a moment before turning his gaze back to ambie.

Jo: Johanna wasn't religious in any sense of the word, even if maybe she should have been given her association with John Constantine. Still she felt somewhat safer stepping inside the church and out of the cold. The whole encounter just made her feel drained and tired, emotionally and physically. She discreetly hunkered down into a seat somewhere away from the other two but still close to John just in case. Her mind was in a whirl the entire way there and even though things had calmed down it still took her a second to realize the older wolf was now talking to her and not to his pup. Her brow furrowed and she looked away, unsure of what exactly she was supposed to say or think about all this. "What's there to ask when I already know the answers. Your pack destroyed mine on the orders of your alpha. It's not the first times wolves have fought and killed each other for no reason." They might all look human at the moment but in the end this was nature. "Kill or be killed. Isn't that just how things go?" Deep down what she didn't understand was why he or John had bothered to save her in the first place. Hell did she even want to know? The damage was already done and there was no undoing it. She'd become as much of a monster as their alpha and she'd hurt people because of it. Quietly she glanced at the young one she had attacked, guilt weighing on her like a shroud. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I guess an apology doesn't seem like much but...it's all I can offer you right now."

Ambrose: Ambie chuckled at John's words "That is so much more about your sex life I didn't need to know, though I will admit Jesse has the nicest hands" He teased back before looking at Wesley, he could sense how much this tore him up inside and it hurt him to see one he loved so in pain. He may not have been part of the pack back then but Shumani wasn't the most thoughtful person. He still remember the one time during his training he'd almost lost Wes to Hunters. He felt himself nuzzle the elder's neck for a couple more moments after he called him sweet thing, he liked the names Wesley came up with when he was speaking about him. "Of course she did, if there is one thing My sister knows how to do well, its cut a man down with a single glare. I know i joke and mess around but it doesn't mean I don't notice certain dynamics or feelings around me." He replied softly glad to be near the church. He could heal but it would take a lot out of him and he wanted to hear the story about what happened. He sat up groaning at the movement before looking for something to clean his chest wound with before he heard Jo speak. "You were scared, when you saw my crest, while I don't condone the violent way you handle this situation I can understand why you did it. Just know that during those five years I traveled with them...they didn't murder anyone, I...didn't murder anyone" He replied softly looking up at Wesley moving to hold his hand.

JOHN: He was useless in these matters so he let the other two wolves take the lead in explaining themselves as he busied himself getting clean rags and water (Jesse was going to kill him for tainting the supply of holy water again but it was the closest body of water around) to clean up some of their wounds so they could be properly healed. He knew enough about wolf packs to know they were territorial and violent on occasion like Jo had mentioned, but that wasn't the pack he and Zee sent Ambrose to. Zatanna had vetted the bastards pretty hard. She wouldn't have willingly let Ambrose travel with a murder pack. "He's right," John agreed as he began to tend to some of Ambrose's wounds. "My ex is pretty fucking terrifying. She must've scared the bejesus out of Shumani..." Enough to make sure Shumani never involved Ambrose in his murder business. John wasn't concerned Shumani would be making his way into town anytime soon. Zatanna was now flanked by an army of angels which made her twice as dangerous. But he was worried that Johanna might go off looking for him. He would need to keep an eye on her over the next few weeks. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, this was a fragile time for her and she was almost as irrational and reckless as John himself even on her good days.

WESLEY: he was hesitant to back away from ambrose when he was injured, the mere thought of it put all of his nerves on edge, but he had john there he'll be okay... wes told himself as he stood and sat across from jo "we weren't always like that... we'd never been like that." he sighed, hands clasped in his lap and his eyes down towards the floor "when shumani stepped into the position he kind of got drunk on power, i should have challenged him but i wasn't interested in the responsibility that came with being the alpha. he somehow got it in his head that the pack wasn't strong enough, that we could be bigger than we were, and he decided to make it happen through bloodshed." wesley looked up at jo, his eyes full of regret and a bit of shame "when he decided that he wanted to attack your pack i tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen to reason so i followed him hoping that i could try and save as many as i could... i should have stopped him and for that i'm sorry."

Jo: Johanna knew she'd messed things up for most of the people here she'd attacked an innocent and become just the Rivers pack who destroyed her family so long ago. She should've known that if John was find with the two of them they weren't a threat but the fear ate away at her from the moment she'd seen the crest on Ambrose's arm. She'd promised to listen with an open mind as she looked at Wesley as he spoke of the worse part of her life. She could feel the regret coming off him in waves as he explained how and why his pack came to their back in the day. "While I can't give you the forgiveness I'm sure you seek right now, I can understand how you tried to stop him, I wouldn't even be alive without John's and your help even as I fought you, you didn't abandon me." She replied looking at Wesley, she couldn't forgive him for the part he played yet it was too much happening at once but she could promise that she wouldn't attack what looked to be his mate any more. "I'm sorry for attack Ambrose in retaliation," She offered Wesley patting hand hand for a moment before turning her eyes to John before slipping to the hurt pup he'd been looking after she felt the ping of guilt at the pain she'd caused him and she still had the idea to be kind and understanding he was nothing like this Shumani she'd heard about yet at the same time she didn't think she could stay here, knowing the truth was one thing but she still felt such rage in her heart at the man who'd taken her family away. She would leave New York tonight and allow what few Rivers pack members a chance at the happiness she'd been denied.

Ambrose: Ambie was grateful for John getting him so nice clean rags though did note that he'd dipped them in the holy water which made him laugh at the fact that his wounds would at least be blessed. He took the rags from John carefully taking off his shirt so he could properly get to his wounds as he moved to clean the cuts on his chest he listened to Wesley's story, he knew how hard it was getting Shumani to see reason and how hard they fought when the alpha got an idea in his head. So part of him wasn't even shocked that Shumani had killed another pack over something as stupid as territory. but Wesley ever the kind heart moved to save anyone he could, part of him was glad that Wesley's involvement wasn't as bad as Jo had made it. He was also glad to hear that Jo had taken the truth from Wesley and not out right attacked him as she did himself. He let out a light hiss at one part of his cut seemed to sting which seemed to have gotten deeper then he first thought. "I'm aright, just going to take a bit longer to heal that last swipe it definitely went deeper then i thought, I also want so many shots after we are done here, it isn't even funny" He mused.

#Pack Retribution #«Write it on the bottom of your shoes for the devil to read» ☾ «Replies»#«We all have our secrets I won't tell them if you don’t» ☾ «John»#«You don't love someone because they're perfect you love them in spite of the fact that they're not» ☾ «Wesley»#discord chat

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chloefranco · 5 years

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You’re it

Nicholas Scratch x Reader

Requested by @cxxl-gall:”Idk if you do requests but you should do a reader x nick from season 2 sabrina where he gets jealous over Harvey constantly making a point on how they used to date because i was living for that “Harry” “It’s Harvey” shit lol”

Based off season 2 but I changed a few things, I hope that’s okay. Don’t come for me lol

You were all helping your cousin Sabrina with her problem with the Dark Lord. Word got out that the Dark Lord has returned in his angelic form. And that he wants Sabrina to be his Queen. Your stomach churned as you took in the news Ambrose told you all. Your Aunties were obviously against it and vowed to do everything it takes to protect Sabrina as well as you and Ambrose. Your boyfriend Nick offered to help and came to your house pretty quickly.

“We’ll built a protection around the house.” Auntie Zee said holding her cigarette.”Chop chop. Nicholas, you can put those strapping shoulders of yours to good use and help.”

Nick squeezed your hand before joining Ambrose at the front yard. You watched anxiously as they built a protection. “(Y/N), we need to find out where in Greendale the Dark Lord is.” Nick said, touching your shoulder. “The more we know, the more prepared we’ll be.”

“Okay, I’ll tell Sabrina.” You said.

“(Y/N)!” Harvey called out as he got out of his truck alongside Theo and Roz.

“Harvey! Guys.”

“Harry.” Nick said with an unamused look.

“It’s Harvey.”

“You guys, what are you doing here? It’s not safe.” Sabrina said coming forward.

“Are you the real Sabrina?” Harvey said taking cautious steps forward.

“What do you mean?”

“Or are you the Sabrina that tried to kill us and turn us into vegetables?” Roz said.

“Yeah, but don’t worry I killed her.” Theo said.

“Oh no, that was someone else, that was something else.” Sabrina assured them.

“What the hell is going on?” Harvey asked you.

“The Dark Lord is in Greendale and he wants to jumpstart the Apocalyspe by opening the gates of hell which are apparently also in Greendale.” You explained. You probably sound crazy but at least your friends believe you now.

“Shit.” Theo said in disbelief.

“I think it’s in the mines.”

“If it’s in the mines. then I think we can help.” Harvey said.

“No offense, farmboy. But you’re gonna wanna sit this one out.” Nick said annoyed at Harvey already.

“Yeah, i wasn’t really talking to you Nick, I was talking to (Y/N).” He said his comeback. “Let us help, let us find the gates of hell. At least.”

“(Y/N), they’re mortals.” Nick tried to make you change your mind.

“It’s okay, Nick. Harvey’s got this. And so does Roz and Theo.” You said.

“If you can find the gates, that would be great. If you can find a way to keep it from opening, that would be even better.” Sabrina said.

“Sabrina! (Y/N)! Get inside the house.” Auntie Zee yelled.

“Be careful and stay in touch.” You hugged Harvey, unknowingly Nick was glaring at Harvey. Then you hugged Roz and Theo. And Sabrina did the same before they all left in Harvey’s truck.

“What about me?” Nick turns to you and caressed the side of your face.

“You be careful too. Stick by the shadows. Please be careful.” You said before leaning up to kiss him.

“I will return to you, Spellman.” He said as he watched you leave.

Two hours later, Nick returned to your house. He was at the kitchen table, reading up on some things from the Demonomicon that might be useful for later. You didn’t even know he was here. You just got out of the bath and put your robes on about to go get a glass of water when you saw your boyfriend.

“Nick. When did you get here?” You said in surprise.

“Not long ago.” He said quietly, still reading the book.

You came up from behind him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed his cheek and he leaned into your head on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re sad.” You said as you can tell people’s emotions with your abilities.

“I just can’t believe you sent Harry to find the gates of Hell. Don’t you trust me to do it?” He said as he rubbed your hand.

“It’s Harvey. And of course I trust you. I just, thought that Harvey knew those mines better than anyone else.”

When he didn’t say anything, you decided to tease him. “You don’t have to be jealous, Nick.” The moment you said that, he pulled you over so that you sat on his lap. Your arms, still wrapped around his neck. He had a tight grip around your waist as he looked into your eyes. You felt your heart race as he kissed your nose.

“It’s clear that he still loves you.” Nick said softly, pushing away a strand of hair from your face. “He used to always think about how he’s better for you than me. His head is full of thoughts of you whenever you’re around him. And it just makes me pissed. That farmboy doesn’t know his boundaries.”

“Was he thinking of me earlier?”

“No.” Nick said, realizing Harvey hasn’t thought about you for days lately.

“That’s cause he likes Roz. Harvey and I, we’re done. There’s no reason he should think about me anymore. Oh and maybe stop reading his mind.” You said, stroking his cheek. “We’re over. I still have love for him but that’s only because I care for him. He’s my friend. Anyway, he’s with Roz now. He loves her and I love you. I love you so much. No one can ever make me change my mind about you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m such a dick. I love you more than anything else in this world, baby.” Nick leaned his head against yours.

“You’re it, Nick. You’ll always be it for me.” You said as you kissed his lips and he leaned into it.

“God, I’m so in love with you, (Y/N) Spellman. I’m so lucky to love you and to have you.” He said kissing your face everywhere, making you laugh.

“Okay, enough, enough. We need to go stop the gates of hell from opening, remember?” You laughed.

“Hell can wait.” He murmured against your lips.

You weren’t sure about Nick in the beginning. But as time goes on, you noticed that he truly does love you. He’s protected you from harm many times and helped you when you were struggling, even got expelled for you and now he’s even helping your cousin Sabrina fight the Dark Lord. He’s it. You can’t see yourself with anybody else. Not even Harvey. Harvey will always be apart of your life but he’s the past. You didn’t think it was possible to love someone else but then Nick showed up in your life. And he opened up new doors in your life. He showed you what love is. And you are so lucky to love him too.

omg...was this good? i’m not sure hahaha i did my best. Sorry if it’s not good haha I hope you like it.

#CAOS #CAOS IMAGINES #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #sabrina the teenage witch #the chilling tales of sabrina #the chilling adventures of sabrina imagines #Gavin leatherwood #Gavin Leatherwood x reader #gavin leatherwood imagine #Nicholas Scratch #nicholas scratch imagine #nicholas scratch x reader #Nick Scratch #Nick Scratch x reader #Nick Scratch imagine #sabrina spellman #Netflix #Witches

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years

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September 15 - Today is the feast day of Our Lady of Sorrows. Ora pro nobis.

Stabat mater dolorosa iuxta crucem lacrimosa, dum pendebat filius.

(At the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last.) Jacopone da Todi (1230-1306)

We pray today to Our Blessed Mother, that through our joining with her sorrows, we may find the joy of eternal salvation with Jesus Christ, Our Lord. We look to Mary as a model of forbearance and endurance, obedience and meekness, love, patience, and joyful suffering.

OUR LADY OF SORROWS Fr. Francis Cuthbert Doyle, 1896

I. One of the Wise Man's most pathetic exhortations is, that a son should never forget the travailing and the sorrows of his mother. In order, therefore, that we may bear in mind the bitter anguish which lacerated our Lady's heart, we must reflect today upon that scene of woe in which her seven-fold sorrow culminated, in which the waters rose up around her, and closed over her head in a sea of anguish, such as never before flooded the heart of mortal man.

Jesus hung on the Cross, the outcast of His nation–a mark at which the vile rabble, and their still viler leaders, hurled their bitter taunts, and aimed their clumsy scorn. A galling wreath of thorns circled His head; His eyes were filled with blood; His hands and feet nailed tightly down to the cruel wood. The wickedness of a sinful world pressed heavily upon Him, and its ponderous weight well-nigh crushed Him Who upholds the universe. During His death agony, men scoffed and jeered at Him, taunting Him with impotence, and blaspheming Him most vilely; and all the while there stood by that death-bed of shame, Mary His Mother! He was Her Child; her blood flowed in His veins; her heart beat in unison with His. Those sacred features, now so sadly bruised and disfigured, were the exact counterpart of her own. That head, now crowned with thorns, had often nestled in her bosom. That tongue which now and then spoke through the darkness, had been taught by her to lisp its first accents. Between Him and her there had passed all that interchange of fond affection and tender love which takes place between a mother and the child of her bosom. Add to this the intense love with which she loved Him as her God, and we may truly say, there never could be love between mortal man and God greater than the love which existed between Jesus and Mary.

If, then, the natural effect of love is union, and if the greater the love the closer the union, we may form some idea of the agony which the sufferings of Jesus caused her heart. The thorns which made His temples throb with acute pain were as a circle of fire upon her brow. The nails which pierced His hands and feet fastened her also to His Cross. The foul language, the revilings, the scoffings, the blasphemies uttered against Him, were as a hail of fire upon her heart. Verily she was filled with His reproaches, and the revilings of them that reproached Him fell upon her. To what shall we compare her, or to what shall we liken the sorrow of this Virgin daughter of Sion? It is great as the sea. Who shall heal it? ‘O! all you that pass by the way, attend and see if there be sorrow like unto her sorrow.'

II. As we look at that ocean of sorrow, the bitter waters of which inundate her soul, we are forced to acknowledge that human words are but faint and inadequate symbols by which to indicate its depth and its breadth. Yet, though we may not be able to do this, we may at least turn our eyes with compassionate tenderness upon her, as she stands beneath the Cross, to see how she bears herself under its crushing weight, that so we also may learn how to suffer.

There are some to whom misfortune deals a blow so terrific that they are stunned and dazed by it. The insensibility which its violence produces, shields them from feeling the poignancy of the pain. It was not so with Mary. Though the magnitude of her grief surpassed all other human sorrows, yet she did not allow it so to master her as to make her swoon away, and thus be unable to feel the keenness of the sword which wounded and tortured her. Her grief, being calm and self-possessed, was on that very account all the more terrible, all the more bitter, because her mind fully adverted to all the circumstances which aggravated and brought it home more closely to her heart. Not one circumstance of those three cruel hours, during which the Saviour of the world slowly died before her eyes upon His Cross of shame, escaped her notice. Her chalice was indeed a deep and bitter one, but she drained it to the very dregs. She stood beneath that Cross!

Yet she was neither hard nor insensible. She sighed and wept, and would not be comforted; but her grief did not overwhelm her. Strong men had fled away from that spectacle. Some had turned away their eyes, that they might not witness the terrible anguish which that mutilated Victim endured. But Mary stood by Him to the end, and her tearful eyes looked up into His pallid face as it sank in death upon His breast.

O broken-hearted Mother! by the grief which then wrung thy maternal heart, by the fidelity which made thee stand by the Cross of Jesus, and bravely associate thyself with Him in His hour of ignominy and of pain, pray for us to God, that our hearts may be torn with true contrition for our sins. Mayest thou stand by us in the last hour of our life, and give us courage to pass through the portals of death to the feet of Our Judge.

III. From the sorrows of the most holy Mother of God, learn that all sorrow is the effect of sin. The first tears that ever dropped from the eyes of man were wrung from him by the bitter loss which he sustained on account of sin; and every tear that has since fallen, and gone to swell the tide of human woe, has had its origin in sin. Mary had never been guilty of sin. But sin seized upon and murdered her only Child; and therefore sin made her weep, we might almost say, tears of blood, upon the place dyed with the blood which she had given to Jesus Christ.

Look back at your life, and call to mind the numberless times in which you have sinned against your Lord. Each of these sins had its share in causing Mary's bitter tears. They helped to strike down that thorny wreath upon the brow of Jesus; to wield the cruel scourge; to dig through the delicate hands and feet; to murder Him upon the Cross. They gave nerve to the executioner's arm, and malice to the hypocritical Scribe, and words of scorn to the rabble that screamed and yelled around the Cross.

When, therefore, you contemplate the sorrows of our dearest Mother, fall upon your knees before her, look up into the face of your Saviour, smite your breast, ask pardon for having been the cause of His and of her sufferings; and promise that by resisting evil for the future, and by living a holy life, you will endeavour to blot out the evil of the past. If the merciful but just hand of God should chastise you for your sins by sending you sorrow to wring your heart with anguish, and to draw bitter tears from your eyes–Oh! lift up those eyes to the Cross on which Jesus hangs, beneath which Mary stands, and learn patiently to bear the trial. Weep with her over the work which your hands have done. Those tears are a sweet balsam to the wounds of Jesus; they are a consolation to the heart of His Mother; they are a health-giving fountain which will wash away the filth of sin, ‘and heal the stroke of its wound.'

The Seven Dolours

Different sorrows of Mary have been honored in the Church’s history, but since the 14th century these seven have commonly been regarded as the seven dolours (sorrows) of the Blessed Virgin Mary:

The prophecy of Simeon The flight into Egypt The loss of the child Jesus for three days Meeting Jesus on the way to Calvary The crucifixion and death of Jesus Jesus being taken down from the cross Jesus being laid in the tomb. Manual of Devotions Translated by Fr. Ambrose St. John , 1861

Devotion to the Sorrows of our Blessed Lady dates from Calvary. The Apostolic Church clung round her whom Jesus had given to be its Mother, and ever remembered that it was amid the pains, the Blood, and the agonies of the Passion, that it had become the child of Mary–literally “the child of her Sorrows.” The chief characteristic, then, of the Church's first love to our Lady was a deep, tender, loving, and child-like devotion to her Sorrows, and the Apostolic age bequeathed this exquisite feeling to succeeding times. But it was reserved for the thirteenth century, in many respects the grandest period in the history of religion, to develop this intuitive aflection, by giving it, as it were, a form, and uniting those most attached to this devotion in a confraternity, strongly recommended by the Church, and richly endowed with indulgences, and other favours by the Supreme Pontiffs.

It was in the year 1234. that seven holy men of Florence, retiring from that city into the cloister founded a religious Order, under the name of the Servites, or Servants of Mary, whose especial object was to honour the Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin; nor was it long before Heaven miraculously proved that our Blessed Lord, the Man of Sorrows, was well pleased with this afifectionate devotion to her who had the most nearly and bitterly shared in His Passion.

This tender sympathy, and the consequent graces richly bestowed by Jesus and Mary, were however not to be confined to the cloister. A lay affiliation of the Servites of Mary was soon established; the habit, or scapular of our Lady of Sorrows, enriched with numerous indulgences, was eagerly sought after by thousands of all ranks. The Crown or Rosary of the “Sorrows” began to emulate the Dominican Rosary; in short, the Confraternity of the “Sorrows,” like the great Society of Mount Carmel, spread through Christendom, was in like manner encouraged by holy Popes, and in like manner drew down the favours of God, and the blessings of Mary, on untold thousands of rich and poor.

The great object of this Society is to nourish a loving sympathy with our Blessed Mother in her sufferings, and with her, and through her, to unite ourselves with Jesus bleeding and dying for us.

Those who wish to practise this devotion may be divided into two classes:

1st–Those who wear the black Scapular and receive her Crown or Rosary, and join from time to time in the Offices and devotions of her Sorrows.

2nd–Those who, in addition to the above, become enrolled members of the confraternity, with a good intention of regularly observing its rules.

It is with sincere pleasure, and heartfelt gratitude, that we have seen this beautiful devotion established in this country. It has lately been regularly organized as a canonical Confraternity at St. Patrick's, Soho, London, where the first Feast of the Seven Sorrows has been solemnly kept. Of this we are certain, that in proportion as we, the Servants of Mary, compassionate her sufferings and meditate on her great Sorrows, while thus our love for her grows daily “more and more,” so also will our love for Jesus crucified still more continually increase. Private devotions will multiply, public Offices will be more regularly and more devoutly attended, and, as we confidently believe, Mary will show us a grateful love, and, with her own most marvellous blessing, will bless those who, by compassionating her Sorrows, show themselves the most truly to be her children, and give the sweetest consolation to her afilicted heart.

#our lady of sorrows

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orthodoxydaily · 4 years

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Saints&Reading: Fri. Aug. 14, 2020

The Procession (Carrying-forth) of the Venerable Wood of the Life-Creating Cross of the Lord

Commemorated on August 1 ( old “Julian” calendar)

In the Greek Chasoslov (Orologion) of 1897 is explained thus the derivation of this feast: "By reason of the sicknesses, often everywhere occurring in August, from of old customarily it was done at Constantinople to carry out the Venerable Wood of the Cross along the roads and streets for the sanctifying of places and for the driving away of sicknesses. On the eve (31 July), carrying it out from the imperial treasury, they placed it upon the holy table of the Great Church (in honour of Saint Sophia – the Wisdom of God). From this feastday up to the Dormition of the Most Holy Mother of God, making litia throughout all the city, they then placed it forth for all the people to venerate. This also is the Issuing-forth of the Venerable Cross". In the Russian Church this feast is combined also with a remembrance of the Baptism of Rus', on 1 August 988. In the "Account about the making of services in the holy catholic and apostolic great church of the Uspenie-Dormition", compiled in 1627 by order of the Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus' Philaret, there is provided suchlike an explanation of the feast: "And on the day of the procession of the Venerable Cross there occurs a church-procession for the sanctification of water and for the enlightenment of the people, throughout all the towns and places". Knowledge of the day of the actual Baptism of Rus' was preserved in the Chronicles of the XVI Century: "The Baptism of Great-prince Vladimir of Kiev and all Rus' was on August 1". In the practice now of the Russian Church, the service of the Lesser Sanctification of Water on 1 August is done either before or after Liturgy. Together with the Blessing of Waters, there is made a Blessing of Honey (i.e. first-honey for the Saviour: "Saviour of the Water", "Saviour Moisture" [apparently in place of the vinegar and gall offered Him on the Cross?]). And from this day the newly harvested honey is blessed and tasted.

The Seven Holy Maccabean Martyrs: Habim, Antonin, Guriah, Eleazar, Eusebon, Hadim (Halim) and Marcellus, their mother Solomonia and their teacher Eleazar suffered in the year 166 before the Birth of Christ.

The seven holy Maccabee martyrs Abim, Antonius, Gurias, Eleazar, Eusebonus, Alimus and Marcellus, their mother Solomonia and their teacher Eleazar suffered in the year 166 before Christ under the impious Syrian king Antiochus IV Epiphanes. This foolish ruler loved pagan and Hellenistic customs, and held Jewish customs in contempt. He did everything possible to turn people from the Law of Moses and from their covenant with God. He desecrated the Temple of the Lord, placed a statue of the pagan god Zeus there, and forced the Jews to worship it. Many people abandoned the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but there were also those who continued to believe that the Savior would come.

A ninety-year-old elder, the scribe and teacher Eleazar, was brought to trial for his faithfulness to the Mosaic Law. He suffered tortures and died at Jerusalem.

The disciples of Saint Eleazar, the seven Maccabee brothers and their mother Solomonia, also displayed great courage. They were brought to trial in Antioch by King Antiochus Epiphanes. They fearlessly acknowledged themselves as followers of the True God, and refused to eat pig’s flesh, which was forbidden by the Law.

The eldest brother acted as spokesmen for the rest, saying that they preferred to die rather than break the Law. He was subjected to fierce tortures in sight of his brothers and their mother. His tongue was cut out, he was scalped, and his hands and feet were cut off. Then a cauldron and a large frying pan were heated, and the first brother was thrown into the frying pan, and he died.

The next five brothers were tortured one after the other. The seventh and youngest brother was the last one left alive. Antiochus suggested to Saint Solomonia to persuade the boy to obey him, so that her last son at least would be spared. Instead, the brave mother told him to imitate the courage of his brothers.

The child upbraided the king and was tortured even more cruelly than his brothers had been. After all her seven children had died, Saint Solomonia, stood over their bodies, raised up her hands in prayer to God and died.

The martyric death of the Maccabee brothers inspired Judas Maccabeus, and he led a revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes. With God’s help, he gained the victory, and then purified the Temple at Jerusalem. He also threw down the altars which the pagans had set up in the streets. All these events are related in the Second Book of Maccabees (Ch. 8-10).

Various Fathers of the Church preached sermons on the seven Maccabees, including Saint Cyprian of Carthage, Saint Ambrose of Milan, Saint Gregory Nazianzus and Saint John Chrysostom.

Source Orthodox Church of America

1 Corinthians 1:18-24

18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

19 For it is written:

20 Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?

21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe.

22 For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom;

23 but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks foolishness,

24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

John 19:6-11; 13-20; 25-28; 30-35 (Gospel, Cross)

6 Therefore, when the chief priests and officers saw Him, they cried out, saying, "Crucify Him, crucify Him!" Pilate said to them, "You take Him and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him."

7 The Jews answered him, "We have a law, and according to our law He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God."

8 Therefore, when Pilate heard that saying, he was the more afraid,

9 and went again into the Praetorium, and said to Jesus, "Where are You from?" But Jesus gave him no answer.

10 Then Pilate said to Him, "Are You not speaking to me? Do You not know that I have power to crucify You, and power to release You?"

11 Jesus answered, "You could have no power at all against Me unless it had been given you from above. Therefore the one who delivered Me to you has the greater sin."

13 When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he brought Jesus out and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called The Pavement, but in Hebrew, Gabbatha.

14 Now it was the Preparation Day of the Passover, and about the sixth hour. And he said to the Jews, "Behold your King!"

15 But they cried out, "Away with Him, away with Him! Crucify Him!" Pilate said to them, "Shall I crucify your King?" The chief priests answered, "We have no king but Caesar!"

16 Then he delivered Him to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus and led Him away.

17 And He, bearing His cross, went out to a place called the Place of a Skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha,

18 where they crucified Him, and two others with Him, one on either side, and Jesus in the center.

19 Now Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross. And the writing was: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS.

20 Then many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin.

25 Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.

26 When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, "Woman, behold your son!"

27 Then He said to the disciple, "Behold your mother!" And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.

28 After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, "I thirst!"

30 So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, "It is finished!" And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.

31 Therefore, because it was the Preparation Day, that the bodies should not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away.

32 Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who was crucified with Him.

33 But when they came to Jesus and saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs.

34 But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out.

35 And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe.

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristian #ancientfaith #wisdom #gospel #christ #spirituality

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valiantbeingsmoved · 7 years

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mike had already gone back to the hotel for the night and it wasn’t like he’d n o t i c e that she wasn’t with him anyway, he never did. maryse went down to the same bar that everyone else had from the show. though, as soon as she made herself comfortable with a drink, she began watching dean over at the bar with the brunette who was nearly hanging ALL OVER him and her blood began to boil like bubbling lava. it shouldn’t have because dean wasn’t doing anything to encourage her ridiculously drunk and cringe-worthy activities, but then again, he wasn’t s t o p p i n g it either. but when that dimpled smile and charm began to seep out, she knew he was definitely not stopping her and that’s when she felt something of a sharp pain in her chest. it was such an odd feeling and maryse was unaware of what exactly it was. then it dawned on her, it smacked her like a ton of bricks—–her heart was BREAKING.

time passed by, she sat at her table alone with thoughts filling her head and her heart continuing to bust off tiny pieces little by little. after a while, the brunette was gone and dean found his way back to her, but maryse couldn’t say a n y t h i n g to him but that she couldn’t believe she trusted him. that’s where everything went wrong though. jabs were thrown left and right verbally. all he could bring up was that he wasn’t HERS and that she was still married to mike, so why was she with so-called trash like him? if it was possible, she felt her heart break even more. and then he insinuated that she couldn’t even s p e a k on trust considering she was cheating on her husband with dean. that was where she broke, a tear streaming down her face. dean knew EXACTLY why she was with him and not happily with mike. he essentially rescued her from that situation and now he had the gall to sit here and insult her for it.

‘ you came to me when i needed someone da most. when my p a t h e t i c excuse for a ‘usband was treating me like garbage and still does, but i ‘ave someone like you to make me remember dat i’m not as wort’less as ‘e says i am. so don’t you dare sit ‘ere and call yourself trash in front of me. because you know dat’s bullshit, dean ambrose... ’ her bottom lip quivered as she spoke, a few more tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘ you know better dan anyone else ‘ow much i would be ELATED to divorce ‘im. but you also know dat da moment ‘e and i are over... i lose my job. what use am i wit’out being ‘is valet? point is, dean... exclusive or not, i feel for you a lot more dan you know so don’t you d a r e assume otherwise. ’

*:･ﾟ✧ — @tragicbreeds // continued — ✧ !!

#tragicbreeds #embrvcechaos #( ✧ –—– MO: REPLIES ! )#( ✧ –—– ❛ OTP: YOU STITCHED MY HEART BACK ON MY SLEEVE. ❜ MO: EMBRVCECHAOS ! )#( ✧ –—– ❛ I PUT MY HIGH HEELS ON SO I'M CLOSER TO GOD. ❜ MO: V002 ! )

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liveonlinematches · 6 years

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Shehan Madushanka stunned many along with his inclusion within the squad for the Bangladesh Tri-Country sequence finals. In the end, he had performed simplest 6 home suits throughout codecs. Madushanka justified his variety by means of changing into the fourth Sri Lankan to take a hat-trick in ODIs and the primary Sri Lankan to take hat-trick on debut. He completed with three for 26 in his 6.1 overs. Madushanka took the necessary wickets of Mashrafe Mortaza, Mahmudullah and Rubel Hossain.

Sri Lanka controlled to submit a complete of 221 after opting to bat. On the other hand, they controlled to finally end up Bangladesh’s innings by means of 142 profitable their first trophy in 2018 after a coarse closing yr. Here’s a record of hat-tricks in ODI’s.

Bowler Group In opposition to Venue Date Wickets Debut With out fielder Global Cup Notes Jalal-ud-Din Pakistan Australia Hyderabad (Pakistan) 20.nine.82. Rod Marsh bowled Bruce Yardley stuck Wasim Bari Geoff Lawson bowled Bruce Reid Australia New Zealand SCG 29.1.86. Bruce Blair stuck Greg Matthews Ervin McSweeney stuck Allan Border Stu Gillespie bowled Chetan Sharma India New Zealand Nagpur 31.10.87. Ken Rutherford bowled Sure Sure Ian Smith bowled Ewen Chatfield bowled Wasim Akram Pakistan West Indies Sharjah 14.10.89. Jeff Dujon bowled Sure Malcolm Marshall bowled Curtly Ambrose bowled Wasim Akram Pakistan Australia Sharjah four.five.90. Merv Hughes bowled Sure Carl Rackemann bowled Terry Alderman bowled Kapil Dev India Sri Lanka Eden Gardens four.1.91. Roshan Mahanama stuck Kiran Extra Rumesh Ratnayake LBW Sanath Jayasuriya stuck Sanjay Manjrekar Aaqib Javed Pakistan India Sharjah 25.10.91. Ravi Shastri LBW Sure Mohammad Azharuddin LBW Sachin Tendulkar LBW Danny Morrison New Zealand India Napier 25.three.94. Kapil Dev bowled Sure Salil Ankola bowled Nayan Mongia bowled Waqar Younis Pakistan New Zealand East London 19.12.94. Chris Harris bowled Sure Chris Pringle bowled Richard de Groen bowled Saqlain Mushtaq Pakistan Zimbabwe Peshawar three.11.96. Grant Flower stuck Moin Khan WWW.W John Rennie stuck Moin Khan Andy Whittall stuck Saleem Malik Eddo Brandes Zimbabwe England Harare three.1.97. Nick Knight stuck Andy Flower John Crawley LBW Nasser Hussain stuck Andy Flower Anthony Stuart Australia Pakistan MCG 16.1.97. Ijaz Ahmed stuck Ian Healy Mohammad Wasim stuck Ian Healy Moin Khan stuck Mark Taylor Saqlain Mushtaq Pakistan Zimbabwe The Oval 11.6.99. Henry Olonga stumped Moin Khan Sure Adam Huckle stumped Moin Khan Mpumelelo Mbangwa LBW Chaminda Vaas Sri Lanka Zimbabwe SSC eight.12.01. Stuart Carlisle stuck Suresh Perera Craig Wishart LBW Tatenda Taibu LBW Mohammad Sami Pakistan West Indies Sharjah 15.2.02. Ridley Jacobs LBW Sure Corey Collymore bowled Cameron Cuffy bowled Chaminda Vaas Sri Lanka Bangladesh Pietermaritzburg 14.2.03. Hannan Sarkar bowled Sure WWW.W (first five balls of fit) Mohammad Ashraful stuck and bowled Ehsanul Haque stuck Mahela Jayawardene Brett Lee Australia Kenya Kingsmead 15.three.03. Kennedy Otieno bowled Sure Brijal Patel stuck Ricky Ponting David Obuya bowled James Anderson England Pakistan The Oval 20.6.03. Abdul Razzaq stuck Marcus Trescothick Shoaib Akhtar stuck Chris Learn Mohammad Sami bowled Steve Harmison England India Trent Bridge 1.nine.04. Mohammad Kaif stuck Geraint Jones Lakshmipathy Balaji stuck Andrew Flintoff Ashish Nehra stuck and bowled Charl Langeveldt South Africa West Indies Kensington Oval 11.five.05. Ian Bradshaw bowled Sure Daren Powell bowled Corey Collymore LBW Shahadat Hossain Bangladesh Zimbabwe Harare 2.eight.06. Tafadzwa Mufambisi stuck Khaled Mashud Elton Chigumbura LBW Prosper Utseya stuck Khaled Mashud Jerome Taylor West Indies Australia Brabourne 18.10.06. Michael Hussey bowled Sure Brett Lee LBW Brad Hogg bowled Shane Bond New Zealand Australia Bellerive 14.1.07. Cameron White stuck Craig McMillan Andrew Symonds stuck Brendon McCullum Nathan Bracken bowled Lasith Malinga Sri Lanka South Africa Bourda 28.three.07. Shaun Pollock bowled Sure four in four Andrew Corridor stuck Upul Tharanga Jacques Kallis stuck Kumar Sangakkara Makhaya Ntini bowled Andrew Flintoff England West Indies St Lucia three.four.09. Denesh Ramdin bowled Sure Ravi Rampaul LBW Sulieman Benn bowled Farveez Maharoof Sri Lanka India Dambulla 22.6.10. Ravindra Jadeja LBW Praveen Kumar bowled Zaheer Khan stuck Kumar Sangakkara Abdur Razzak Bangladesh Zimbabwe Mirpur three.12.10. Prosper Utseya stuck Naeem Islam Ray Value LBW Christopher Mpofu LBW Kemar Roach West Indies Netherlands Kotla 28.2.11. Pieter Seelaar LBW Sure Sure Bernard Loots LBW Berend Westdijk bowled Lasith Malinga Sri Lanka Kenya Premadasa 1.three.11. Tanmay Mishra LBW Sure Sure Peter Ongondo bowled Shem Ngoche bowled Lasith Malinga Sri Lanka Australia Premadasa 22.eight.11. Mitchell Johnson bowled Sure John Hastings LBW Xavier Doherty bowled Dan Christian Australia Sri Lanka MCG 2.three.12. Thisara Perera stuck Michael Hussey Sachithra Senanayake LBW Nuwan Kulasekara LBW Thisara Perera Sri Lanka Pakistan Premadasa 16.6.12. Younis Khan stuck Kumar Sangakkara Shahid Afridi stuck Dinesh Chandimal Sarfraz Ahmed stuck Mahela Jayawardene Clint McKay Australia England Cardiff 14.nine.13. Kevin Pietersen LBW Jonathan Trott stuck Aaron Finch Joe Root stuck Shane Watson Rubel Hossain Bangladesh New Zealand Mirpur 29.10.13. Corey Anderson bowled Brendon McCullum stuck Shamsur Rahman Jimmy Neesham stuck Mushfiqur Rahim Prosper Utseya Zimbabwe South Africa Harare 29.eight.14. Quinton de Kock stuck Tendai Chatara Rilee Rossouw stuck John Nyumbu David Miller LBW Taijul Islam Bangladesh Zimbabwe Mirpur 1.12.14. Tendai Chatara bowled Sure Sure John Nyumbu LBW Tinashe Panyangara bowled Steven Finn England Australia MCG 14.2.15. Brad Haddin stuck Stuart Wide Sure Glenn Maxwell stuck Joe Root Mitchell Johnson stuck James Anderson JP Duminy South Africa Sri Lanka SCG 18.three.15. Angelo Mathews stuck Faf du Plessis Sure Nuwan Kulasekara stuck Quinton de Kock Tharindu Kaushal LBW Kagiso Rabada South Africa Bangladesh Mirpur 10.7.15. Tamim Iqbal bowled Sure Litton Das stuck Farhaan Behardien Mahmudullah LBW James Faulkner Australia Sri Lanka Premadasa 24.1.16. Kusal Perera LBW Angelo Mathews stuck Moises Henriques Thisara Perera bowled Taskin Ahmed Bangladesh Sri Lanka Dambulla 28.three.17 Asela Gunaratne stuck Soumya Sarkar Suranga Lakmal stuck Mustafizur Rahman Nuwan Pradeep bowled Wanidu Hasaranga Sri Lanka Zimbabwe Galle 2.7.17. Malcolm Waller bowled Sure Sure Donald Tiripano LBW Tendai Chatara bowled Kuldeep Yadav India Australia Eden Gardens 21.nine.17. Matthew Wade bowled Ashton Agar LBW Pat Cummins stuck MS Dhoni Shehan Madushanka Sri Lanka Bangladesh Mirpur 27.1.18. Mashrafe Mortaza stuck Kusal Mendis Sure Rubel Hossain bowled Mahmudullah stuck Upul Tharanga

Madushanka had simplest 6 home suits sooner than making debut for Sri Lanka. In his brief profession of three First-Magnificence suits he controlled to pick out up eight wickets with best possible figures of three for 25. On the other hand, this has been an excessively certain get started for Sri Lanka as they’ve bounced again strongly after dropping the primary two video games of the event.

Editorial group of CricketCountry.

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http://ift.tt/2Gqf3O4 Cricket News

#liveonlinematches #Cricket #Football

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ashen-crest · 3 years

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Rival Potion Shops Drabble: Ambrose & Dawn

Okay, last exploratory drabble for today before I start drawing. This is Ambrose and his only friend since childhood, Dawn!

TW: Food

They sat in their usual spot- a cramped little table in the back of their favorite gnome-run cafe.

They drank their usual tea- mint for Ambrose, lemon ginger for Dawn. A cinnamon cookie for each of them.

They did not, however, trade their usual gossip.

“Can you believe the gall of that man?” Ambrose said. Normally, it was Dawn providing the updates- but Dawn had barely gotten a how are you out of her mouth before he found himself launching into the tale. “Went right up to one of my customers and said, oh no, that potion isn’t going to be right for you, not for that part of the Trapping Sea. And then-“

Dawn slurped her tea.

“Mhm.”

“And then- they went over to his store! Bought one of his,” Ambrose twirled his long fingers in the general direction of Rosemond Street, “I don’t know, gut-punch potions-“

“Sucker-punch potions.”

“Whatever,” he snapped and lifted his teacup. “The audacity…”

Dawn drained her cup and grinned at him.

“So, you got a crush on him or what?”

Ambrose choked on his tea. Several gnomes in the shop shot him perturbed glares.

“Excuse you!”

“Excuse you!” Dawn leaned back in her chair, a sea of pink fabric, gold jewelry, and smug looks. “Ames, this is literally the longest you’ve spoken about anything ever, and I’m including that time you got into a debate about dried lavender last month.” She tilted her head as she reached for her cookie. “It’s an awful lot of energy to spend on someone you don’t like.”

Ambrose took his cookie and tossed it onto her plate.

“He opened a potions shop directly across from mine, Dawn. Of course I’m going to spend energy thinking about him and his-“

“His…?”

Dawn waggled her eyebrows, then burst into laughter. Ambrose fiddled with his sleeve, his cheeks flaring with heat.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I hate you, and you’re paying for the tea this time.”

RPS Taglist: @nikkywrites, @chayscribbles, @cecilsstorycorner, @theramwrites, @akindofmagictoo, @pheita

#rival potion shops #ambrose beake #dawn kerighin #my wip #side drabble

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pamphletstoinspire · 5 years

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OUR LADY OF SORROWS September 15

Today is the feast day of Our Lady of Sorrows. Ora pro nobis.

Stabat mater dolorosa iuxta crucem lacrimosa, dum pendebat filius.

(At the cross her station keeping, stood the mournful mother weeping, close to Jesus to the last.) Jacopone da Todi (1230-1306)

OUR LADY OF SORROWS Fr. Francis Cuthbert Doyle, 1896

The Seven Dolours

Different sorrows of Mary have been honored in the Church’s history, but since the 14th century these seven have commonly been regarded as the seven dolours (sorrows) of the Blessed Virgin Mary:

1. The prophecy of Simeon 2. The flight into Egypt 3. The loss of the child Jesus for three days 4. Meeting Jesus on the way to Calvary 5. The crucifixion and death of Jesus 6. Jesus being taken down from the cross 7. Jesus being laid in the tomb.

Manual of Devotions Translated by Fr. Ambrose St. John , 1861

The great object of this Society is to nourish a loving sympathy with our Blessed Mother in her sufferings, and with her, and through her, to unite ourselves with Jesus bleeding and dying for us.

Those who wish to practise this devotion may be divided into two classes:

1st–Those who wear the black Scapular and receive her Crown or Rosary, and join from time to time in the Offices and devotions of her Sorrows.

2nd–Those who, in addition to the above, become enrolled members of the confraternity, with a good intention of regularly observing its rules.

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

#our lady of sorrows

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