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#sebastian's demise
jacklyn-flynn · 2 years
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Isabela decides to leave an illustrated erotic book around each of her companions just to see what their reactions are. 
Merrill helpfully returns it to Aveline by leaving it on her desk. Because she’s married so it has to be hers, right? She swears she didn’t look at it. That would be rude. 
Aveline shoves it into a desk drawer, muttering about Donnic, and then pretends she didn’t see anything. 
Varric: “Oh, research!”
Fenris burns it. 
Sebastian spontaneously bursts into flames in the middle of the Chantry. 
Hawke very casually picks it up and puts it on their bookshelf. 
Anders pretends to be disgusted but looks at a few pages when he thinks no one is looking.
Bethany leaves it in the Tower library on one of the tables for the same reason Isabela left it. Later, they share the results. 
Carver rips out a few pages and then leaves it exactly where he found it.  
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weirdraccoon · 10 months
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Poppy: Hey, Natty. Have you seen MC?
Natsai: MC and Garreth have been in potions lab 3 experimenting for the last three hours or so.
Poppy: Oh. Then, Sebastian?
Natsai: Sebastian and Ominis have been in the library planning Garreth's murder for two hours now.
Poppy *crestfallen then perking up, eyeing Natsai*: And would you be interested in raiding a poacher camp?
Natsai: Have I just become your third choice? Nevermind, I'm in.
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forgottenronan · 2 months
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OOC | Ronan & Sebastian
ok so copy & paste [ what i said to edmund ] except minus the battle of m stuff -- sebastian literally did NOTHING to ronan, but ronan wants him dead anyway. he says this is for logic reasons (the civil war etc etc etc) and it is, but also he doesn't think he'll ever be able to trust that anyone he loves is safe as long as a varmont is alive bc he literally thinks they're all evil -- ciara has shifted some of his opinions on this, but roderick's spawn have got to go, and ronan frankly looks forward to killing them so!! that is definitely fun times and i apologize in advance lkajsdffdslkafj
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ivettel · 2 years
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here are some indigenous activists and groups to check out so you can keep being engaged after this gp!
indigenous climate action
indigenous environmental network
assembly of first nations
winona laduke
âpihtawikosisân
jesse wente
dallas goldtooth
native women's association of canada
aptn news and cbc indigenous (for news)
definitely have missed people but these are the main ones i keep up with, feel free to add!
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not-poignant · 1 year
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Stardew Valley - 12 - A Stain that Won’t Dissolve - Alex/Sebastian
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Title: A Stain that Won’t Dissolve Rating: Explicit Pairing: Alex/Sebastian Tags: Hurt/comfort, aged-up characters (mid 20s), minor character death, angst, injury, grief, miscommunication, bullying, enemies to lovers, dubious consent, internalised homophobia, closeted character, past child abuse, dyslexia, antagonist farmer, unrequited love, pining, acceptance, top!Sebastian, bottom!Alex, power dynamics, happy ending.
Summary: Alex hates Sebastian – which is great because Sebastian more than returns the favour – and what starts out as revenge fantasy turns into unironic lust, which evolves into unrequited love. Alex gets a job, Sebastian marries the farmer, and both of them lose almost everything before finding each other again. A story of two mutual bullies who learn how to messily grow up.
A Stain that Won’t Dissolve (Alex/Sebastian) - Chapter 12 - You're Craving Your Karma
In which Haley calls Alex, wanting to know why he avoided telling her about the new job, and then talks frankly about her concerns regarding Sebastian. After that, Alex gathers the courage to quite the delivery job, but Mayor Lewis might turn out to be as much of a bastard as Alex imagines him to be...
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korkiekenobiconfirmed · 6 months
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titans made a bold (horrible) decision making the ultimate big bad of season 4 be An Insufferable White Man. they were dabbling in all crazy kinds of magic that season, they could've made the villain anyone or anything and they really just went with Insufferable White Man.
I'm not against human(ish) villains. Deathstroke was Just Some Human Guy but he was still an incredible antagonist who scared me in a way sebastian never did. slade had a truly menacing presence, but Mr. Apple IT Technician is just some whiny, easily-manipulated mama's boy who gets handed crazy powers like he's the main character of a ya fantasy novel
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annafromuni · 7 months
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Interesting Premise, Lacklustre Delivery?
An Artless Demise is the seventh book in Anna Lee Huber’s Lady Darby Mystery Series. The premise is engaging and hooked me in right away; Kiera’s past comes back to haunt her as a new case of bodysnatchers-turned-killers breaks out, throwing London into a frenzy. Not only will she be thrown back into the horrors of the public’s preconceptions about her involvement in her late husband’s trade, but…
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disneyprincemuke · 1 month
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i forgot that you existed * sv5
you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader
trope: fake amnesia
wc: 1.4k
(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)
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you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.
an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.
because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.
it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.
in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.
all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.
he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.
you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.
the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.
you were a mess.
so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.
and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.
now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.
you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.
it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.
you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.
sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.
you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.
you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.
ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.
but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”
do i know you? where the hell did that come from?
sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”
you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.
yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”
you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”
good friends. men really are liars.
“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”
you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.
because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.
you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”
sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”
you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.
you should really just start running back to your car now.
“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.
“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”
“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”
he grins, “it’s sebastian.”
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gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification
series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv
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endemise · 4 months
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DEMO
→ Latest Update: Prologue — 3 February 2024
17+ The Fall of House Black — A gothic, supernatural, mystery interactive fiction story. Lightly inspired by The Fall of the House of Usher and Frankenstein media. (Work in Progress)
Synopsis has mentions of death and suicide. See extended content warnings below.
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The fall of House Black, your house, was an imminent thing. A name had never been so cursed that all it could do was bring about death.
First, your younger sister in a swimming accident, then your older brother in a case of mistaken identity. As the rest of your family sought to grieve and bring justice to your brother, your older sister was killed in a hunting accident at the end of your father’s bow.
The three of you, mother, father, and child, became inconsolable. Broken beyond repair. Your mother unable to bear the weight of life any longer took her own while your father disappeared, gone into the night. When you remain the sole survivor of House Black, you know you must leave, and on the night of your decision, your home goes up in flames with you inside.
Then, you awake, dazed with no recollection of anything, and when you look down at your body, you scream. It is wrong. So wrong.
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Play as a reanimated, customizable character.
Learn how to be a person again.
Try to survive in a society that fears the unknown.
Develop relationships. (4 ROs: All gender-selectable + 1 secret RO)
Aid in the investigation of your family’s untimely deaths.
Learn about your family’s curse.
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Aesop/Almira Hammond | Detective | 36 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
A is an observant and clever person, stoic in nature. They put their all into their work, striving to find the truth in every case. They take on the case of your family’s sudden deaths despite pushback from others. It was an occurrence of events all too strange, and they are determined to figure it out.
Cyprian/Cecilia Atterton | Writer | 28 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
C is an imaginative and creative person, quiet in nature. They write not only from their own experiences, but the experiences of others as well. They are interviewing people about House Black, intending on writing a book about your family’s ill fate and eventual demise.
Sebastian/Sabina Farwell | Doctor | 34 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
S is an intelligent and kind person, caring in nature. They are a most trusted doctor, hardworking and honest. They were the young doctor that tried to help your father and sister. They helped without question, never calling your family cursed as you so often were.
Elias/Elosia Osborne | Coroner | 30 Years Old | RO
[Profile] [Portrait]
E is an empathetic and hardworking person, cheerful in nature. They put their heart into their work, aiming to bring closure to people as swiftly as possible. They are the one who investigated and confirmed the death of your elder sister. They never could for you though.
Unknown | ??? | ??? | RO
A secret. Who knows when they will appear.
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SUBJECT TO CHANGE
Mentions of death, child death, suicide, violence, blood, injury, burning alive, body horror, mutilation, slight gore, amnesia
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asks are welcomed!
DISCLAIMER
this is a demo/work in progress. everything is subject to change until the final version. it is by no means a finished or polished work.
LINKS
→ demo | same one, just another link
→ itch.io | my creator page
→ @ethersic | my main, art, etc. blog
INFO
word count w/o code: 6.3k
next update: tbd
written with twine (tweego)/sugarcube
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tabibitto · 1 year
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Always Yours | Sebastian Michaelis
m.list
cw: fluff, smut, angst, toxic relationship, butler x master, oneshot, gender neutral, main character death
A/N: should i make a mini series about something like this?
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Upon a summon, a demon negotiates a price, and a deal. What to give and take.
As a creature of sin, he of course, tries to make the best bargain for himself. With you, it was different. The first of contracts in over 500 years where the terms were of equal measure, in your gaze and his.
Sebastian, as you named him. Promised three things to you: Pleasure, Protection and Absolute Service. In service, he swore honesty, he swore loyalty, as both a butler and a lover. He swore to "care" for you.
Whether you looked at it as genuine kindness or the simple task of taking care of a lesser animal was up to you.
In this Loom of Fate, where you had no real future. No heirs for your earldom, where your work in your manor and buisness was for naught, you still worked hard and gave it your utmost devotion.
It amused him—watching as you worked and packed your schedule for seemingly no reason. In a hundred years you would be forgotten, but the demon supposed that this was another little quirk of the complex nature of humans.
Sebastian often pondered weather you did this to feign a sense of normality, or weather it made the perfect excuse for him to...destress you.
He teased you about it before, that there was no need to work so hard for his cock and attention. In response you had slapped him, and rode him harder that night. It was never brought up again.
You never did answer his question as to why pretend to be normal. Then again, he didn't say anything when you asked why he would pretend to love you. And unlike your usual stubbornness, you dared not to press when the chatty demon suddenly grew quiet whilst he washed your hair.
You never learned whether his silence was an answer in itself, or because...he didn't know either.
Sebastian took care to remember everything you mentioned you liked and hated, without your orders to do or not do. He insisted he always take care of your hair and body. Never allowing you to lift a finger when he was around. Sebastian always had a new excuse
Chivalry, Duty, Honor. Trivial ideals that mattered not to him.
How Sebastian took gentle care to prep you and love you the first time you urged him into your bed.
How you insisted he was the only one who could, because he was your loyal slave who would never open his mouth and boast nor gossip of his Lady in bed, to which he agreed
Sebastian would not dare, contract or not to allow another man nor woman know of your pretty moans and expressions, how you quivered around him and uttered i love yous and stay with mes that nearly convinced him of your affection.
In return, he uttered the same sweet nothings to you.
He tore apart anyone you wished dead, brought you their heads and tongues like a proud pet when you requested.
Sebastian knew it was not distrust that made you ask for proof of death. You were just as twisted as he and it made him crave your own demise even more.
Deep down, where his heart was supposed to be. Sebastian knew he loved you, he was obsessed with you and would do anything for you. His own addiction made him nurture and love your soul even more, each time he kissed you, he could faintly taste the delicacy he has cultivated for years, and would fuck you hard to satiate his thirst for your soul.
he fed you, bathed you, fucked you, loved you
he gave you everything you never had
In return, you fullfilled your own end of the contract.
you were a loyal lover to him. Never pleased nor been pleased by another man or woman then Sebastian himself. Turned down every marriage proposal and attempt to court you. Danced with no one unless absolutely needed
Never smoked nor did drugs to preserve your soul's taste, though you did enjoy wine and liquor.
You called him when in danger or if someone tried to force themselves on you, and he protected you, held you as cried and trembled, Comforted you as you wanted.
Making gentle love to you, kissing you, hugs, cuddles. Watching over you while you beat and tortured men to death. Brought you whatever parts you wanted, mailed the rest to their homes as a warning.
Sebastian would never dare himself say he loved you. He would never think it possible. Demons and Angels could not love nor hate. The divine and damned existed for a sole purpose, to carry out the word of the lord, or bring damnation to humanity. He was the latter, nothing more or less.
With you he could pretend he was someone, someone more. Someone who could come home, who could love and live. He would lay awake at night, and pretend you meant your words. Your confessions. Allow himself to feel
What Sebastian would say, is that he was simply possesive and obsessed with you. And if he had to call it love for your sake...and his. So be it.
Until the day when he would please you one last time before tearing you apart as he came. Relishing in your screams and cries, as much as it destroyed him to do such a vile thing. He would enjoy you. Every inch, every drop of you was his.
Sebastian Michaelis would love every inch of you until then. And bury himself into starvation with your body, to love and be loyal to you, his mistress. Until the end of time.
Because there was no one like you, would be no one like you. You were everything he wanted and would ever need.
Even if his stomach ached for even a cheap soul, he would ride it out until death. As punishment for making you suffer, and to keep his promise to you.
usque ad mortem im tua
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ravenelyx · 1 year
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I love you in every timeline - Prologue: In Search of Lost Time
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader
Words: 1.9k
Chapter Warnings: angst if you squint, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance (not even y/n dw), some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader (I know I know but I promise it makes sense for the story)
Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).
A/N: this is the first english fic I've written, so I'm terrified. Anyway, Trimetravel! AU with Sebastian Sallow. Some background info: Reader is not MC; Reader is a Gryffindor, MC was a Slytherin; MC was a Pureblood, Reader is a Muggle Born. Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, I deeply apologise. Not proof-read (for obvious reasons).
→ Find the rest of the fanfiction here on AO3 :)
"For we are not as faithful to the being we have most loved as we are to ourselves and sooner or later we forget her — since that is one of our characteristics — so as to start loving another." - Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
If a chasm had opened under Sebastian's feet and swallowed him all the way to the depths of hell, he would have gladly accepted his demise there and then.
Unfortunately, its mercy seemed to be out of business that day — or any other day in his life, really.
Sebastian paced the corridors, a frown adorning his face; he had just come out of the Headmaster's office due to the absolute disaster that had occurred to him just a few hours prior.
After weeks of research, he had finally found something that could help him, a breakthrough with which he could finally achieve his goal. An artefact so powerful that it could break the fabric of time and space, something that could help his poor sister live a happy and healthy life again. He did not care that they were not on speaking terms at the moment: he would find a way to talk to her so that she would take this last chance. He would force her if he had to. It was his last hope, and Merlin knows he had tried everything.
If he had known about the artefact's effects earlier, he would have thought twice before using it.
"So, Mr Sallow, could you be so kind as to tell us how you came to be in our time?" the Headmaster, who had earlier introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, had asked him.
Truth was that not having stopped dwelling with the Dark Arts in search of a cure for Anne had led him to find himself in another timeline instead. His face twitched: in terms of unlikelihood, the scales seemed pretty unbalanced.
It had been a brief conversation, really, with Sebastian omitting some details (like his friendship with an Ancient Magic wielder or the murder of his uncle, for which he bore full responsibility) and grimacing against his own will when the Headmaster had looked at him through his half-moon shaped glasses as if asking him, 'Why are you lying to me?'
He had pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they had come: it wasn't like he could read his mind... or could he?
Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief when the Headmaster had dismissed him after giving him specific instructions on how to behave until they found a way to return him to his timeline — one of which was, "Please don't inform anyone of your condition unless it's absolutely necessary." That had seemed quite reasonable to him, so he nodded.
The artefact was damaged, as expected, and unlikely to work again unless a powerful form of magic came into contact with it and repaired it: something like Ancient Magic, perhaps, or a miracle.
"I see you're still causing trouble everywhere you fare, aren't you, Mr Sallow?" the familiar voice of Phineas Nigellus Black had mocked from his portrait, effectively startling him. Sebastian had looked up and into the eyes of his old Headmaster, his mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked old, weary, and angrier somehow — yet, in a way, he had brought Sebastian some form of comfort, almost. A sense of familiarity.
Before he could have said anything, Black had disappeared, and a woman with severe blue eyes and long robes had escorted him out of the office.
-
Sebastian looked around at his familiar surroundings, which would have been almost comforting if not for the nameless faces looking at him with curiosity: Hogwarts students tended to recognise each other effortlessly, and anyone who didn't fit into that bundle of familiarity was to be ostracised. He remembered all too well when he was the one helping the new fifth-year find her way around those same corridors, except he didn't need guidance: this was his home, after all.
But he did have a guide, and she wasn't as charming a student as he was either.
The Head of the Gryffindor House walked right next to him, a stern expression on her face made even more prominent by the shadow of her large witch hat. The woman Sebastian had come to know as Minerva McGonagall was also the Transfiguration teacher and Deputy Headmistress, at least it seemed that way, which was no doubt why she was accompanying him rather than the Head of his own House.
Sebastian decided not to ask himself any questions and do what the Headmaster told him to: attend class, fit in, and pretend to be either a transfer student or someone with a complex background — he hadn't decided which story to tell yet (and both, in a way or another, would be true).
The clacking of Professor McGonagall's shoes stopped so abruptly that he almost would have missed it if she hadn't started speaking.
"You're about to meet two of your new classmates. Prefects of the Gryffindor House." She raised her left arm in their direction, and his eyes followed it to two red and gold robes leading into warm faces.
"I am pleased to introduce you to Ms Hermione Granger—" she gestured to the girl with curly hair to her left, who wore a friendly smile all while maintaining a serious and clean look, "—and Mr Ronald Weasley." Sebastian's eyes shot to the boy to his right when he heard the familiar name, and to be honest, he might not have needed an introduction at all: the red-haired boy gave him a wry smile, his freckles standing out even more in the natural light. He would have recognised those features anywhere.
Finally, Sebastian noticed their uniforms. He didn't pay much attention to the boy's — he himself also wore a very similar one, uncomfortable and informal as it seemed to him — for his eyes were fixed on the girl's. She was wearing a grey cardigan with red and gold trim, the colours of her House, and her skirt was much shorter than he remembered, with black denier tights covering the rest of her legs. Sebastian felt himself blushing slightly and averted his eyes.
He wondered why the Slytherin prefects were unsuited to the situation: at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin, too. Sebastian didn't undergo the Sorting again — the Professors didn't seem to deem it necessary, not to mention the Hat had recognised him from his shelf, too. He didn’t forget easily.
McGonagall turned back to Sebastian and briefly adjusted his robes, her face softening slightly, "For the time being, it is best if you don't draw attention to yourself. We will find a solution," she straightened her posture and nodded at him, "Welcome to Hogwarts." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him with the two Gryffindors.
He studied their faces for a moment, searching for the right words to say, deciding on which story to tell, but the only thing he could muster was: "How come you're Gryffindors?"
The two students stared at him, appalled, and he mentally slapped himself. He wanted to correct his statement and explain his intention, but the girl stopped him before he could even form a coherent thought.
"You're wondering why they asked us to guide you and not the Slytherin Prefects, am I right?"
Either his question wasn't that unclear, or the girl had excellent deduction skills, and judging by the epiphany on the other boy's face when he understood the meaning of her words, it was most likely the latter.
Sebastian sighed inwardly and nodded, mentally promising not to stumble over his words again.
The boy — Ronald, Sebastian recalled — chimed in: "Because otherwise you'd have to deal with Malfoy, and he's an idio—" the girl slapped him on the arm and gave him a warning look before turning back to Sebastian.
Malfoy, Sebastian thought. A family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was clear why a Weasley would want nothing to do with him.
Sebastian wondered if they still held the same values as in his day: if the Malfoys were still blood maniacs, and so was the person they spoke of, or if he wanted to distance himself from his family as Ominis did. Judging by Ronald's opinion of him, Sebastian did not think that was possible, but then again, he did not know the fellow. Maybe, Sebastian thought, things had moved on after a century: no blood wars, discrimination or superiority complexes. Perhaps this was all just a simple rivalry between two students from different Houses.
"Professor Dumbledore thought us to be best suited for this difficult situation. No other student but us knows about your... misadventure," said Hermione.
To call it a "misadventure" would be an understatement , Sebastian wanted to say. As it turned out, however, he didn't need a story to tell. He didn't know whether to feel betrayed by the Professors who had decided to disclose that information or relieved that he didn't have to go through it all alone. A beat of silence followed, in which Sebastian could only nod at the girl's words, and then it was interrupted abruptly.
"Where have you been?" called a voice from the end of the corridor, directly behind Sebastian.
He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him.
He definitely didn't have to go through it all alone because there she was. Standing a few feet away from him, looking straight at him, was the person who had accompanied him on all his adventures.
She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.
He felt his lips twist into a grin, and he beamed at the sight of her. Had she been looking for him?
He frowned a little as he noticed her expression: she seemed annoyed, almost angry. Perhaps she had no intention of following him and had just ended up here for no reason? Were the two of them connected on a deeper level than he thought? Or perhaps she was just worried for him and angry he didn't look for her too?
The girl started to walk towards them, and his smile widened even more the closer she got.
She was almost there when he realised she wasn't sparing him a glance.
Instead, her eyes were focused on the red-haired boy next to him, who was staring at her in horror, looking completely terrified.
Sebastian looked back at the girl, finally noticing the red and gold tie around her neck where a green and silver one usually belonged, a crease in her eyebrows that wasn't there before, and her eyes were a different colour than he remembered.
What the hell is going on here?  he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.
"Ron, for God's sake, I've been looking all over for you! Do you intend to give me back my book before class starts, or should I pull a new one out of a hat because you can't use your own?" she threw her hands in the air disapprovingly.
Ron stuttered briefly before hesitantly pointing at the Slytherin boy next to him, "I've just had too much to do. Prefect stuff, you know."
The girl scowled at him before turning to the said boy, her eyes softening slightly. "Oh! You're the new fifth-year!"
Sebastian's eye twitched. How bloody ironic.
"I'm Sebastian Sallow," he replied feebly, body stock-still like marble.
"Nice to meet you," she smiled politely.
And then she introduced herself.
His breath caught in his throat. Sebastian could have recognised that surname anywhere, but her name fell completely deaf on his ears.
You weren't her.
--
→ Chapter 1
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saulocept · 1 year
Text
come pour yourself all over me
pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]
rating: g
summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.
notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance. 
also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it! 
You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.
You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.
You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.
In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.
You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.
The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.
It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.
It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.
At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.
You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?
Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.
The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.
Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.
You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”
Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”
Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”
“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”
He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”
You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.
Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.
“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”
“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”
Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”
There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.
“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.
“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.
This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”
“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”
This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”
It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”
“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”
You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”
“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.
“There,” he says after a moment.  He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”
“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.
“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”
Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.
“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”
Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”
“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.
He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”
You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -
It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.
“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”
You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”
He only smirks at you in return.
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sorrowsofsilence · 5 months
Text
Burning Out • 1
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader
I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.
Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.
Words: 7.3K
Warnings: 18+, explicit language, Alcohol consumption, devils lettuce consumption, violence, mentions of murder, panic attacks/ anxiety
Authors note: Chapter One: The Apparition - This story was a request by an anon! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the prompt (prompt is here). I am excited to see where this goes! Let me know any thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged leave a comment :3 (ps. Listen to the apparition by sleep token hehe)
THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <;3
Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking
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NOAH
The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.
Yet, within this lifetime, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy either.
Perhaps there was a chance for me, someday or somehow within another universe.
For now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead. Destruction, Crime, Greed.
“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo pulled at my wrist in desperation. My arm remained still, resisting his force.
The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.
My heart raced, and I stood frozen in place.
“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.
I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.
“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.
I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.
I’ll be even more of a fuck up if she rats on us.
You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?
My eyes snapped open, leathered finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat. The woman's eyes turned away in fear as if watching her own demise would kill her. Ironic.
Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is this who I am? I am nothing more.
The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.
“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door as forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.
I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.
“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rearview mirror. I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.
“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.
I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?
+++++
Y/N
Wrapping the grey apron around my waist, I clocked into work and tightened my low bun, tucking the loose strands of my H/C bangs behind my ear. Another shift, another day that felt wasted away, confiding into the capitalist abyss. 
Overall, I enjoyed my new job working in the coffee shop. The city was busy, something I definitely wasn’t used to, but the cafe was a comforting environment filled with tasty pastries, and an unlimited amount of caffeine to fulfill any heart's desire.
I did appreciate having a solid routine, and a stable job that paid me well, however, I envied those with freedom. Those with spontaneous adventures and the ability to travel; those who got to spend their days making memories. You never know when a day is going to be your last; and at this rate, my soul was going to linger within this fucking place forever. 
I sighed as I checked on the coffee pots, organizing them before neaty lining the glass display with more cakes and croissants. Stocking up the cups and lids, I hummed to myself, letting my mind wander into my corporate daydream distractions.
Why are you never real?
Whenever you appear
You leave me with that grace
I am trembling with fear
But I know that you will disappear
“How’s it going Y/N?” My coworker asked, smiling, pulling me out of my trance.
Annika; I have grown quite fond of her, even though I’ve only known her a week.
“Good,” I smiled, pulling a sanitized cloth out of a bucket and wiping down the counters, “yourself?”
“Oh you know, same old same old.” She said, sighing with a sad smile. I matched her as we shared a moment of familiarity, before concentrating again on wiping the surface, the cold cloth running along the faux marble. 
The seating area was already busy; friends chatting, students studying, and business meetings occurring. I enjoyed watching the bustle of life that everyone brought inside. I smiled as I watched our regular elderly couple I’ve seen each morning this week wave goodbye.
“See you Lauren, bye Ray,” I gave them a nod, before wandering over to empty tables, giving them a wipe. The door dinged as more people came in, but I didn’t bother glancing up, letting myself work. 
I hummed again, singing ever so quietly as I walked back to the counter and began to daydream, thinking of things I’d love to write about, and places I’d love to go. It’s only been three weeks since I left my old life behind, and this was just the beginning of my freedom.
So let's make trouble in the dream world
Hijack heaven with another memory now
I make the most of the turning tide
It just split what's left of the burning silence
“Sleep token?” a man's voice asked, pulling me out of my trance. 
My head immediately spiralled, flushing with embarrassment as I realized Annika was off helping someone else, and I completely ignored the customer in front of me.
“Oh- sorry.” I avoided eye contact, throwing the cloth back into the bucket and scrambling my way back to the till.
“What can I get for you?” I asked as I stared at the buttons in front, preparing myself to hit stay or go, before looking up at the man in front of me. As soon as I met his deep brown eyes, I was lost in a certain intensity, the mysterious depths beckoning me towards him.
My lips parted as I stared at him, my cheeks immediately warming from infatuation. His chocolate eyes were paired with a head of long brunette hair that flowed in all the right places, just below his collarbone. A variety of coloured tattoos covered his arms and neck, and when he smiled, I just about felt weak in the knees; the crinkle of his eyes and the fold of his smile lines left me captivated. However, another story lingered behind his gaze, my mind trying to peel the layers to reveal whatever it may be.
He too watched my face, eyes trailing over every detail as a light tint of blush trailed down his ears to the top of his cheekbones.
“Uh- is it to stay? Or to go?” I stuttered as I looked away, realizing I was staring for too long. My ears felt hot and I eyed the counter intensely, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 
“To go please,” he said; and my god his voice, the slight Virginian accent that danced off his tongue held me in a chokehold. 
“What could I get for you today?” I asked, glancing up shyly. I've met plenty of attractive customers in my years of retail and serving, but I never had anyone caught my eye the way he did. The unknown puzzle he appeared to be was leaving me captivated.
“I'd like a coffee please, black?” he said slowly, as if it was a question.
I let out a small laugh, “Did you want cream or sugar? Or we have a variety of syrups-” I watched as he smiled, before shaking his head, eyes remaining fixated.
“No, just black is okay…” he said. Something about his October eyes tantalized me, pulling me towards him as if invisible strings were being woven between us as the seconds ticked by. His body was a magnet, and I was being tugged. 
“Sure thing,” I nodded, averting my eyes from his gaze in embarrassment, “that's everything for you?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, fiddling with his wallet before pulling out cash. 
“Can I grab a name?” I asked shyly, looking back at him again, my eyes searching his entire face for answers as if his name would reveal all the mysteries he was hiding.
I extended my hand to grab his money, and he hesitated for a moment as if scared to touch me. He placed the bill gently in my palm, the tip of his tattooed fingers brushing across my skin. My hand burned as butterflies churned in my stomach.
“Noah,“ he said, giving a slight nod and tight smile.
“Noah,” I echoed, giving him his change, the cool silver coin radiating the heat off of his palm.
“I’ll have that ready for you shortly,” I smiled up at him, and he returned it, stepping back with his hands in his pockets. With shaky hands, I turned around and walked to the coffee pot, grabbing a cup and filling it with a warm drink.
Annika slithered next to me, bumping my shoulder gently, “That’s Noah, a regular. He hasn’t been here in a while, but he’s always so glum.”
I looked at her, nodding slowly, unsure what to say.
“He also always grabs cream and sugar, so I’m surprised he’s changing it up.” Annika turned around, eying the boy for a moment before leaning into me again, “must be because he’s so distracted, checking you out.”
Blush tinted my cheeks as I scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” I exhaled with doubt but took a quick glance at the brunette. Sure enough, he was watching from behind the counter, averting his eyes as soon as we made contact. 
“You should give him your number, maybe that’ll cheer him up,” Annika whispered, giving me a wink before walking away to help another customer.
I laughed lowly as I put on the lid, sliding a sleeve up the cup. Grabbing the sharpie I opened it, and my fingers hesitated- what if I did?
I shook my head gently, shaking away the thought before scribbling Noah’s name across the top of the lid.
“Noah,” I said, his name passed off my lips as if he breathed it from me. 
His inked fingers wrapped around the cup, “You were singing the apparition earlier,” He said, and I watched him curiously, “fascinating, the line about the past.”
Every word felt like it was being taken from my body as we watched each other. Both of us seemed to hesitate, waiting for the other to say something.
He spoke first, eyes gazing upon me for a moment as he turned towards the door, “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new around here.”
I wanted to respond, but I felt frozen; so I watched every step he took towards the door, the black hoodie he wore lingering in my memory. 
“Welcome to the neighborhood, Have a good day,” He nodded, before walking through the door, the bell signalling his dismissal as he left.
Well, I believe,
Somewhere in the past,
Something was between,
You and I, My dear
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Perhaps it was infatuation or complete adoration; but regardless my heart yearned, regretting the way I held myself. Thoughts churned throughout my mind as I replayed the way he looked at me. I don’t think I've ever been looked at with so much intensity. 
Fuck, why didn’t I get his number? I internally groaned, scolding myself, turning around to fix another pot of coffee. A few minutes went by as my mind raced with thoughts before I heard the door open again.
I instantly turned around, surprised to see the same long-haired brunette standing at the till once again, his locks tousled messily, but still cascading down to his collar bones elegantly.
“Hi,” He said, out of breath, as if he had been running. With parted lips and quick exhales, he smiled. 
“Hi,” I said confused, my heart picking up pace once again.
“I think, I forgot cream and sugar,” He said, holding out the cup. His fingers shook as his cheek blushed. 
My head tilted slightly as he eyed me, and I grabbed the cup from him gently, “How many of each would you like?”
“One and one.” He smiled, face flushed.
I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I turned around to pour the sugar and cream, mixing it in his still-hot coffee.
“One cream and one sugar,” I watched as our hands touched as we passed the beverage, fingers grazing, tingles sparking through my appendages.
Noah looked at me, our eyes searching each other for any other form of communication, but he spoke first, the question bluntly leaving his mouth, “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
I gave him a dumbfounded look, eyebrows turned inwards in shock. My lips slowly upturned into a smile of disbelief, his questions catching me completely off guard. I tilted my head to look at him as a laugh escaped me, and he too joined in, his own laugh shy and reclused.
“I- I think you should walk by again,” I watched him, coming up with a quick witty response, “But only so I can get another look as to what you’d look like walking towards me on a date.” 
I cringed at my own words, laughing, and Noah’s smile widened at the banter.
“So, I’ve gathered that we are both really terrible at flirting,” He said, taking a sip of his coffee and licking his lips once he pulled the cup away.
I hummed in agreement, “I think that can be a safe deduction from this one-minute conversation,” my eyes following his fingers that now ran through his long chestnut hair, eyes trailing over the flower on the back of his hand, “maybe, you’d like to see how bad a longer conversation could be?” 
Noah’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, giving me a look, “Do you want to risk it all right now?”
I smiled as my heart began to race, the glint in his eyes only excited me more. I grabbed the sharpie that was initially filled with regret earlier, wrote my number on top of a napkin, and handed it to him. “I’m off at 5, and I don’t work my next job till 9”
Noah licked his lips again, “I’ll see you then.”
---
I stood outside the coffee shop with my earbuds in, awaiting my bad decision. Pulling my hair out of my bun, I attempted to run my fingers through my hair to make it look even a little flattering. Would he show up? Was I delusional? Was this whole idea absolutely insane? Who does this with a complete stranger?
“Hey.”
I recognized the upbeat of his voice, and my ears immediately shifted colours. I pulled out an earphone as he strode towards me, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. The way his hair flew behind his shoulders left me watching him in complete adoration. He was beautiful. 
“Let me guess,” Noah bit the inside of his cheek as he approached me, “Same song?”
Don’t wait, ‘cause this could be the last time
You turn up in the reveries of my mind
I wake up to a suicide frenzy
Loaded dreams still leave me empty
“Possibly,” I smiled.
“I think you’d really like this song by Deftones,” He began as we started walking down the street aimlessly without a plan.
“Can I guess?” I asked, looking up at him. Noah towered over me, inches above in height. I felt so small against his frame, despite his own lanky figure, and my heart began to race at our proximity. Every step he took it felt like I had to take three, his Dior cologne radiating through my senses.
Why are you never real?
The shifting states you follow me through
Unrevealed
Just let me go or take me with you
“Is it sex tape?” I asked, and Noah gave me a toothy grin, clearly impressed.
“I don’t know how you guessed the exact song,” He said, squinting at me quizzically.
“What can I say,” I shrugged, “Good at reading pretty boys’ minds. Plus, it’s a good song, similar vibe.” 
He eyed me playfully as we stopped at the crosswalk, “So you think I’m pretty?”
I watched the other side of the street, smiling as I faced forward and hummed, “Well, I don’t think I’d spontaneously go out with just anyone.”
He turned to face me, looking down at me with amusement. “Fair enough.”
“For the record, 100 percent my type,” I said, looking at him through my lashes.
Noah’s face flushed again, “What is that type? Just so I can scope them out for you, ya know?”
I thought a moment, chewing on my lip, “Oh you know, hot long-haired brunettes, brown eyes,” my eyes trailed down his body to scope his hands, before trailing back up to see the snake poking above his hoodie collar, “with tattoos,in a variety of places.”
“Well,” Noah’s cheeks tinted deeper, “I do have tattoos all over my body if you ever feel the need to explore them all.”
I laughed, watching him. We stared at each other for a moment longer, my heart pounding, as his eyes devoured me before the beeping of the sidewalk timer pulled my attention away from him.
“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed and shook my head as I laughed in disbelief.
“What?” Noah asked, hands in his jeans pockets as he gazed between me and the path ahead.
“Going out with someone I know nothing about,” I began, “for all I know you could be a serial killer,” I teased.
Noah chuckled, “Fair. I suppose this was the last thing I thought I’d be doing this fine Tuesday evening- but I do find a dash of danger titillating.” 
I smiled widely, “so, you’re not a serial killer?”
“Not that I’m aware of, I can’t say it’s something I would get much from,” Noah laughed, but I noticed he looked away, eyes becoming distant.
“So who are you then?” I asked, Noah and I follow each other down the park path towards the neighbourhood. I pulled out my earbuds, shoving them back into my pocket. The wind was picking up slightly, causing me to shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands, fingers intertwining together in my hoodie pouch. We were walking along a path by the inner city river, the leaves of the birch trees swaying as they danced along to nature’s beat.
As I strolled next to Noah I felt an odd sense of comfort, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the man beside me. I watched him, his hair flying behind him, his eyes squinting through the wind.
“I don’t really know who I am,” He said, staring out at the water. The river flowed rapidly, the water washing over the memories of the city, carrying them through the ground in a prophesied path. I walked along with him quietly, waiting for Noah to continue speaking.
“I’m just a lost soul, I guess,” He spoke softly, eyes glazing over slightly as his mind pulled him inwards.
I nodded in understanding, “I suppose that I am too.”
Noah chuckled lowly, “Nah, there’s much more to your story,” he pried, pulling himself out of his trance.
“I mean, of course. Everyone has a past,” I looked at him curiously.
“What’s yours?” Noah watched me intently, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to block the wind from blowing his hair into his face, “You’re not from around here.”
“How do you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Accent,” He said, “And I’ve never seen you around. I know these parts pretty well.”
“Hm. Fair enough.” I nodded, smiling, “I just moved here, from Canada.”
“To the shit hole city of Los Angeles?” Noah scoffed, surprised, “You had the whole world, and you chose LA?”
“City of dreams, they say,” I shrugged, my gaze falling upon the leaves again, “and I needed to get as far as I could.”
Noah was quiet for a moment, pondering. We walked in silence again, heading towards the houses.
“Running from something?” He asked, barely forming a whisper. Noah’s eyes met mine as they searched for an answer, attempting to read through me.
I sighed, tilting my head to give him a small smile, “Always.”
“Who?” Noah asked after another pause, sitting forward in interest.
“Ghosts and demons,” I laughed, lightening the mood, “Oh, and people too.”
We laughed together, our voices creating a harmony that I wanted to listen to forever.
“I left behind everything—everything I ever knew,” I began, turning to avoid Noah’s eyes.
“My parents were murdered,” I said. I expected him to immediately bombard me with apologies, as people always did when dropping a bomb like that; but he was silent, letting me continue. “I was thirteen. Lived in and out of different foster care homes- no one wants to ever take in a teenager.”
Noah hummed, prompting me to continue. We walked down the sidewalk along the street of houses; nearing my own. Staring at it as we walked by, I turned my attention forward.
“Unfortunately got in with the wrong crowd and some really bad people who only loved and wanted me when I could provide them with things.” I stifled a laugh, suddenly feeling insecure and small, “Basically I worked my ass off to get out, and I’ve finally made it and bought my own place.”
I looked over at him now, giving him a smile, “So still running, but a lot closer to my destination.” I felt an immense amount of appreciation for his ability to listen.
Noah smiled back, giving me a knowing glance; almost as if he understood. Turning his attention toward the houses he scanned them, watching each one intensely as we walked by.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I just trauma-dumped on a stranger,” I gave an uncomfortable chuckle.
“Nah, we aren’t strangers now,” He said, “Definitely more like acquaintances.”
I smiled at his reassurance, “And you? You’re quite mysterious.”
Noah was quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and thought as we enjoyed each other’s company, his eyes darting rapidly over the grass as if he were filtering through memories. I watched his lip run between his teeth before he turned to me, giving me a curt smile.
“I’m just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that.
+++++
NOAH
“Where the fuck were you?” Jolly yelled, “We’ve been waiting for hours.”
I slammed the motel door, the place we called home, glaring at him, “nowhere mom, it's not like you need to know.”
“You’re right,” Jolly said, stepping forward, pushing himself towards me so our chests were almost touching.
“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing, who you were doing, or whatever- But you know what time you need to be back, and you’re late.” Jolly’s finger pressed into my chest as he scolded me. We stared at each other, eye to eye, his gaze furious. I pushed against his chest, making space between us as I furrowed my brows.
“Whatever, sorry, I got carried away,” I mumbled, throwing myself onto the cot that rested on the floor I sighed, my cheek smashing into the musky-scented pillow. Staring at the 80’s retro carpet splayed on the floor, I analyzed the faint outline of the blood stain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open from a previous job.
“It’s your turn, Noah.” Nick Folio slapped the backpack onto the table as he sat back in the chair, crossing his legs on top of the wooden surface. The joint was lit between his lips as the smoke trailed through his teeth.
“I fucking hate doing this shit,” I protested, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back, letting myself close my eyes momentarily. Ruffilo tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest. I groaned angrily as I sat up. I pulled the black leather gloves over my fingers to cover my tattoos. Standing up I shoved the black ski mask into my hoodie pocket, before throwing my phone into my cargo pants.
“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.
“How many more fucking weeks, huh? It’s been years. I’m sick of this shit.” I snapped, and Nicholas, being the glue of this group, placed his hands on my shoulders.
“I know,” he said, watching me cautiously.
A bitter laugh escaped Jolly’s lips, “What else are we going to do Noah? Magically pull a million bucks out of our asses?”
I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.
Jolly sat back in the wooden chair next to Folio, “You know the drill. It’s nothing new. We do what we gotta do to survive; how else are we going to pay back D?”
I shrugged Nicholas’ hand off my shoulder, muttering to myself in annoyance as I grabbed my combat boots, kicking my black vans underneath the cot. I tied up the laces, knotting together the memories of previous jobs, the back of my mind replaying years of regret.
Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before mumbling, “Don’t forget you’re the whole reason we are in this mess in the first place.”
My head snapped up immediately, eyes locking onto his, ears burning a deep red as my face heated, “Yeah? Why don’t you say that again you fucking prick?”
Jolly raised his voice, sitting forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he leered into me, “I’m sick and tired of hearing it, Noah. Do you think we enjoy doing this too? Do you think we want this? Don’t complain about the work when you fucked us over first.”
My chest heaved as I grew irritated, eyes glaring as his words stabbed me, “I was fourteen!” I shouted, spit flying from my mouth, “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me to in the first place!”
Nicholas reached for me again, pushing against my chest to hold me back. I aggressively hit his hand away, grabbing my backpack vigorously and throwing it over my shoulder.
“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Jolly growled, watching me as my fists clenched, muscles tightening.
“You’re the one I’m supposed to look up to!” I yelled.
“It’s not my fault your parents died,” Jolly said, and both Nicks immediately turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.
“Don’t you fucking bring them into this!”I screamed, seething, ready to lunge at the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I squirmed against him, closing my eyes in anger as I fought the tears that brimmed them.
An hour ago I was sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. I’ve never done anything as risky as spending time with someone I just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle… so worthy. How someone could captivate me within mere moments, left me baffled. I knew I was in complete infatuation, and I already felt myself craving to see her again. I have gotten a coffee from that cafe almost every day for a year; it’s the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same. The coffee, the customers, the servers, everything. Everything but Y/N. Seeing her threw me off, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that felt like she was placed there as if maybe she was just for me. She seemed like a breath of fresh air in my stale, grey, lifeless world. Something about the way she spoke, how she seemed so mysterious, her wit and her beautiful fucking eyes.
Now here I was, being reminded that I was unworthy of anyone.
“Do you know where you’re going to go?” Nick asked me, pulling me from my thoughts. He handed me the joint, a way to divert from the tension,
I nodded, “I walked around a neighbourhood I’ve been eying lately, the one close to the coffee shop.” Wrapping my lips around the joint I inhaled, letting the smoke fill my throat and lungs. I coughed as I handed it back to Folio.
“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “we spend enough time around there.”
I shrugged, “I scoped some places earlier. Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide. Seems like most of the owners are elderly, it's an old neighbourhood.”
Nick took a final puff of the joint, before blowing out the smoke through open lips, placing the bud in the tray beside him, “Elderly is good. Lots of nice shit; if you sort through the useless junk. Bring the gun for the scare factor.”
“Yeah, I was planning on it,” I said as Nick held out the weapon, my finger grazing across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.
What am I even doing?
Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.
“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.
I walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building. As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.
I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:30 am, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies.
I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.
I placed an earpod in my ear, scrolling through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her. As they say, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.
And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade
+++++
Y/N
I clocked out of work, sighing through the exhaustion of my 12-hour day. Thankfully my bar shift was only four hours, but I was tired regardless, knowing I had about 8 hours till I had to be back at the cafe, to do it all over again. I reapplied my red lipstick in an attempt to hydrate my lips, the crisp 1 am air biting at my cheeks. Thankfully home was only a ten-minute walk away, and the only motivation carrying me was that my warm, comfortable bed was waiting for me; and my cat.
I also couldn’t help but still feel giddy about meeting Noah earlier today. My heart yearned as I reminisced about his smile and mysterious aura. My stomach churned with butterflies from the exhilaration. Was this just a one-time thing? Never in a million years would I have thought I’d go on a ‘date’ with someone I just met; but It’s not like I do much other than work. My life needed that little bit of excitement.
I sang to myself, letting the incitement of possibly receiving a text from him in the morning carry me through the dread of working tomorrow. I let my thoughts wander to ridiculous daydreams as I reached the front door of my townhouse. I put the key in, twisting it; realizing I locked the door.
Shit, did I leave it unlocked this morning? I know I was tired…but I’m pretty good at remembering that.
With furrowed brows I opened the door, closing it and double checking it was locked. My orange cat, Juice, was not sitting by the door in his usual spot. Every time he heard the door he was always right there, waiting. None of the lights were on, which usually never worried me; but I knew that I kept the living room lamp on so it wouldn’t be dark when I got home. Maybe the power went out.
“Juice?” I called out, my stomach beginning to churn with a dreadful feeling. Something wasn’t right. The house was eerily silent as I walked quietly toward the kitchen.
“Juju baby? Where are you?” I yelled, turning on the kitchen light. I placed my bag on the counter, listening intensely for his meow.
The floor creaked above me in what sounded like a pattern of footsteps, and I froze in place. That was too loud to be a cat.
There was rustling above the stairs and my breath hitched in my throat as my heart raced. I felt my pulse radiate through my ears as I reached for the biggest kitchen knife from the block. The adrenaline rushed through me as I slinked towards the stairs from the kitchen.
I peered up the stairs into the darkness, the only source of light coming from the windows, illuminating the crevasses of the doors upstairs. Another creek sounded and I watched the shadow dance along the wall as the door to my bedroom opened. With shallow breaths I carried myself up the stairs, tiptoeing, barely allowing myself to exhale in fear I would be too loud.
This is how people get murdered in horror movies you dumb bitch.
As my heart pounded heavily underneath my rib cage, I made it to the top of the stairs, turning on the light to the hallway.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and I screamed, deep from my diaphram; but the only thing appearing was my cat; wide-eyed and meowing.
“Jesus Christ cat!” I yelled, falling onto my knees as I scooped him into my arms, running his orange fur through my fingers.
“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” I let out a breathy laugh, mocking myself for being so silly, before kissing the top of his head. Juice wriggled in my arms, letting out a meow to be put down. I placed him on the floor and he ran into my room. Shaking my head I placed the knife on the bannister, following Juice.
He sat on my bed, meowing towards my mirrored closet as I entered. Turning on the lamp next to my bed, I pet him, “What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is literally full.”
I pulled off my sweater, throwing it into the laundry hamper. Juice began hissing and I stared at him confused.
“What the hell is-”
A hand covered my mouth before I finished my sentence, and I immediately screamed into it, my sounds muffled into the gloved appendage. Another arm wrapped around my torso as my eyes widened with fear, and I froze in place, held tightly against the captor’s chest.
I felt the pace of their heart match my own, their chest heaving up and down heavily.
They turned our bodies towards the mirror and I stared at the reflection, tears beginning to fall from the terror I felt.
The man behind me towered over me, his grip never loosening from my body. Everything was covered except his eyes and mouth, peeking through a black ski mask.
I whimpered against his hand my stomach sinking at the sight of the gun that poked through his black cargo pants, but the most terrifying thing of all was the scent of Dior cologne.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said, accent burning into my memory, and I watched him in the mirror. It was him. Noah. I knew his voice, this had to be his cologne.
A wave of dread filled my body and I began shaking, crying into his hand. He followed me home, I never should have gone out with a stranger. How could I be so fucking stupid?
“I’m going to leave, and you’re going to let me. Understood?” I nodded, tears drying on my cheeks as I watched his every move. He closed his eyes, as if in regret before he took a deep breath. I don’t think he knows I know who he is, but there was no way in hell I was going to get killed being a crying little bitch. I’m going to harm this motherfucker and get his ass thrown into jail.
“Please don’t scream,” He said, his grip loosening on my body, and when he fully let go I swung around, kicking him forcefully in the family jewels. Noah fell onto his knees, a deep guttural groan emanating from his throat as he held himself in agony. I scrambled into the hallway, grabbing the knife off the bannister and pointing it towards my door.
“You fucking followed me you creep!” I screamed, anger seeping through me, “You’re a fucking lowlife, get out of my house or I’m calling the cops, Noah.” His name crawled off my tongue while dripping with complete disgust, the syllables sickening. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers shaking as I typed in 9-1-1.
“I swear to god I had no idea this was your house,” He said pained as he crouched out of my bedroom, “please Y/N, don’t call the cops.”
“Why shouldn’t I call the cops!” I yelled. Noah’s eyes darted between the phone and me, following my thumb as it hovered over the green call button.
“Just don’t,” Noah said, holding himself against the door. I pressed the button, holding it up to my ear as it dialled.
Noah immediately looked frantic, before his hand reached for the gun placed in his waistline, pulling it out and pointing it at me. Immediately I froze, and the voice of the 9-1-1 operator was dampened by the drowning ringing of panic.
“Hang up,” Noah whispered, the gun shaking in his hands through his demand.
“Hello? Are you there?” The lady on the phone said.
“Y/N, hang up, please.”
Time felt frozen as I stared at the gun, memories flooding back from the murder of my parents. My bottom lip trembled, the phone falling from my hands, onto the carpeted floor. My body was stiff, completely locked in place.
“Hello?”
Noah’s other hand reached out gently, palm open and inviting; countering the symbolism of the weapon present in his other hand. He reached down towards the phone, ending the call.
He let out a sigh of relief, hanging his head in guilt. Throwing the gun to the floor, he kicked it towards the bathroom, before pulling the mask off, revealing the face I yearned for earlier.
He looked broken, and torn, as he watched me completely crumble before him, the panic attack rising in my lungs.
“I- I didn't mean to scare you I- I” Noah began to stutter frantically, moving towards me, “I can’t have the cops come- I can’t leave my brothers.”
I fell to the floor, holding my knees to my chest as I stared at the gun by the bathroom, terror taking over. My breathing became erratic as I began to hyperventilate.
“I swear to god I’m not going to hurt you,” Noah leaned down, sitting in front of me as he held my wrists.
I tried to take in breaths, I tried to pull myself away from him but I couldn’t move. I gasped for air, suffocating myself, unable to exhale.
“Breathe,” Noah’s hands now grabbed either side of my face, “please Y/N breathe!”
His eyes ran across my entire face, holding me, “Count back from 100 in 3’s with me, ok?”
“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah began, and I followed.
“85, 82, 79…” I choked out, and Noah’s grip on my face loosened, and he moved his hands to hold my own.
I wanted to run away so badly, I was terrified, but at the same time I was scared I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.
Noah counted with me, demonstrating a stable breathing pattern and my chest followed his own, mimicking him, “58, 55, 52, 49…”
Finally, we reached zero, and my breathing was normal. I retracted my hands from his own violently, pulling them into my chest as I scooted away from him as if he were the most vile thing in the world.
“I don’t know whether to say fuck off,” I said, glaring, “or thank you.”
Noah watched me with worry before he ran his gloved hand over his face. Realizing they were still on he groaned in frustration, peeling off the leather angrily and tossing them to the side, his tattooed hands now exposed.
I watched as his fingers shook, my eyes following the outline of the flower once again.
“I’m sure you don’t believe me but I swear I didn’t know this was your house.” He began, holding his hands up in surrender. His eyes looked at me, pleading.
He looked so genuine, so sincere, he had to be telling the truth; but fuck that.
“You’re right, I don’t,” I snarled, “But what the hell were you doing in someone else’s house anyway?” I wiped my mouth, the lipstick I put on earlier smudged across my skin. I probably looked like a complete mess right now. Noah watched, eyes tracing my lips.
“I- I swear If I could tell you I would,” Noah rambled again, looking at the carpeted floor, “but I-”
A loud triple-knock at the door interrupted his sentence, and he stared at me with wide eyes, the colour draining from his face.
“This is LAPD!”A loud voice boomed from the other side of the door, the doorknob turning, attempting to open.
“Shit,” Noah mumbled, looking around the hallway frantically. He stood up, searching for something before he stared down at me, an idea clicking in his mind. Noah tore his sweater off, along with his black tank top underneath, leaving him shirtless before me.
“What the hell are you doing!” I whisper-yelled, looking up at him with furrowed brows.
“Kiss me,” He said, kneeling in front of me again, complete distress and fear glazing over his eyes.
“Excuse me?” I now yelled, a little too loud as the door below us rattled again.
“LAPD! Open up!”
“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah’s eyes bore into my own as he begged, “Trust me, just this once, please Y/N.”
I analyzed Noah’s features, his deep October eyes imploring.
Call me crazy, but somehow I obliged, leaning in with permission. Noah’s hands gripped the back of my head, fingers tangled through my hair as he pulled me onto him, kissing me with complete desperation.
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Holy shit this was a really long chapter I am so sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it! I am excited to continue!! <3
Chapter two
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legacygirlingreen · 6 months
Text
Drenched in Magic // Sebastian Sallow x MC One shot
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A/N: this was a wonderful colab with @darch7995 ! I simply wrote the story for her idea and HERE is the audio she did! Seriously check out her page sometime bc her audios are INCREDIBLE
All screenshot is by @silverxstardust - she’s got great work as well!
Warnings: nudity, skinny dipping, kissing, flirting, etc
Word count: 4k
The burning in her thighs was almost distracting from her current plight. Almost. Not only had Sebastian sallow drug her from the warmth of the castle right before dinner for a brief treasure hunt in the highlands, but he’d gotten more than either of them bargained for when they’d stumbled upon a camp of dark wizards. Unfortunately, one of Rookwood’s men recognized her as the one who’d lead to their boss's demise, quickly alerting others in the camp to her and the slytherins presence, and thus the unforgivables being hurled around them had started.
Sebastian, wanting to make good on his promise to never cast one again, immediately took off running, pushing her ahead of him to do the same. And they had continued running at top speed, using whatever spells could come to mind to protect them as many of the wizards turned into various animagus forms, running beside them as vile creatures like dark mongrels.
She was thankful for the massive amounts of walking, stair climbing and often running required by the average hogwarts student - the castle was large and avoiding detentions meant frequently breaking out into a sprint in the corridors. Slowly but surely Sebastian was able to pause every now and again, firing confringo and various spells at the opponents, reducing the number of wizards chasing them with time.
“Glacius!” Sebastian shouted as he hurled the spell out over his shoulder before carefully pulling her body into his. She initially went to protest his move as he pulled her along, seeing no point for him wrenching her into his side, but as the lime green ball of light flew past her body, the place she’d previously been standing, she realized why he had done so.
Having no time to focus on that, she turned around, seeing the enemy frozen in place by Sebastian, and deciding that given the man had attempted to use Avada Kadavra on her, then she was justified in using extreme force…
“Diffindo!” She shouted, turning back around to the difficult to see path in front of them as they continued to run. Pushing ahead of Sebastian, who was slowly starting to waiver with his pace, yet she could still feel him on her heels as they ran.
“Have I ever told you that I really like those trousers ? Like really like them” Sebastian said as they pressed on.
“We are running for our lives, and all you can focus on is my wardrobe Sallow? I never knew you were such an observer of fabrics. Perhaps you should fill that open position at Gladrags now that Mr. Hill’s assistant eloped!” She retorted, annoyed he could find time to flirt with her despite their situation.
“Hard pass. It’s less about the trousers, and more about what’s in them that I find so appealing” he responded and she didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking.
“Perhaps wait until we are no longer in danger to make comments on my-“ she coughed and although hilariously timed it was mostly from the exertion to her lungs. “Assets?” He asked mischievously, accentuating the former part of the word.
It was at that exact moment she felt a firm smack against the same area she could feel his eyes staring despite running in the nearly pitch Black Forest.
Quickly tossing a side eye over her shoulder as they ran she frowned, realizing that even when their lives were at stake, he was still going to behave like a pig. Figures. Before she could even open her mouth to question him further he responded cheekily.
“I believe it’s called multitasking darling, you should try it someti- Incarcerous!” He shouted, and she heard the thud of yet another body drop to the ground as she turned to see a man tied to the ground. Feeling Sebastian’s hand grabbing at hers, she didn’t question when he thrust his non-dominant hand into her own and began to yard her along.
“Multitasking?” She whispered under her breath rhetorically but Sebastian only chuckled at her stunned reaction.
“Multitasking. Like saving your ass, while also staring at or ” Sebastian trailed off, once again reaching down and this time grabbing a firm handful of her bottom as she yelped, not expecting him to have done something so untoward with their lives on the line.
“What in Merlin's name?!” She cried out, and just as she went to yell at him for his behavior, she saw movement out of the corner of her eyes shouting “Bombarda!” Watching how the witch who’d meant to attack them, flew back against a tree with a sickening smack.
“Now what did that witch do to you to deserve such excessive force darling? Could it be you’re reacting this way because you’re riled up?” He teased her, deciding they should make a stand against the few wizards closing in on them. Sebastian knew that deep down if angered enough or truly threatened, the girl would unleash unforeseen magic that would reduce enemies to shreds.
“Riled up? Riled up?! Why on earth would I be riled up Sallow?!” She asked him frustrated at his behavior while the exhaustion burned in her lungs. She was so angry at the boy for continually making passes at her then backing away. He was such a horrendous flirt in private yet when questioned by Ominis, Poppy or any of their other classmates he seemed less than interested in her. The constant confusion grew more and more frustrating to her, as with time, she’d come to really like the boy.
He was tall - much taller than he had been in 5th year - and had only grown more handsome as he’d aged. His wild brown hair had only gotten more unruly. His smile, still charming and full of light. His shoulders, more broad and his frame filled out with more muscles than she’d have expected. Gone was every trace of baby fat, however still the boyish appearance she grew to love had remained somehow. I’m his dimples, in his eyes and in his playfulness. Sebastian sallow was by far the most handsome man she’d laid eyes on.
Giving her that charming Sallow smile he lightly pulled her body behind his own as he cast protego and a red beam from the bushes beside them cast off his forcefield as she gasp. She needed to stop allowing herself to become distracted during dangerous scenarios, as he was capable of flirting and fighting apparently but she couldn’t hold her own when he was standing so close.
Trying to separate from him once more, he pulled her against his body tighter, casting her a warning gaze downward as he continued the onslaught of teasing by saying “not yet princess” just before another beam bounced off his forcefield.
It frustrated her that he continued to harass her. It frustrated her that he was so damn good at fighting while also riling her up. It frustrated her to know that he was so calm under pressure all the while she was dying within his hold. She was frustrated he held her that way and still he refused to make a move unless under life or death scenarios. It frustrated her the way his thumb stroked against the skin of her thigh gently…
As soon as he deflected the charm, he dropped the protego. And she’d had enough between him and the dark wizards after them both. Feeling the electricity so frequently in her veins charging the air, she decided that now was as good a time as any to let it go. Pointing her want to the sky, she saw the remaining three enemies closing in, pulling down a lightning bolt from the heavens as she reduced the last three of their enemies to ash.
“Wow. It still amazes me how incredible you look when you pull that magic out of thin air. A thing of dreams truly” he said as he continued to hold her against him by the hand he’d moved from her thigh to her waist, and cast down a sly grin with a small wink.
At that she huffed, pushing him away and brushing herself off. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair, realizing that her braid had mostly come undone and recognized soon she’d likely have to redo it. Finally able to catch her breath she walked forward, seeing that one of the fallen wizards had dropped a small coin purse ahead of her, and just as she reached down to grab it she heard Sebastian call out for her.
“MC look out!” She didn’t have much time to react before he hurled himself towards her, tackling her into some bushes as a loud whooshing sound and an animalistic growl filled the air.
“Falling hard for me now aren’t you MC?” He asked with a chuckle as he held her cradled against his chest , ignoring the fact that a River troll had already spotted and charged at them.
Rolling off of him and onto her back, she quickly picked herself up and moved out of the way. Unfortunately Sebastian moved the other direction, as the troll moved between them, cornering her back against its den. Continuing to swing its large staff at her, she continued to dodge and deflect while whatever spells Sebastian hurled seemed to do little damage to it.
Concentrating, she used her ancient magic, spurring herself past the beast and landing herself next to Sebastian, at least she attempted to do so, but miscalculated the distance, crashing into him and sending them both flying backwards. As they did so, she could feel his arms once again snaking around her to cushion her fall.
Immediately all she could feel was warmth. Sticky, warmth and the most foul odor she’d ever smelt. Troll boogies.
“Oh that’s downright foul… and here I was having a good hair day” Sebastian chided out before he rolled out of the barreling troll's way.
As the beast reached its staff up to swing at her, she lifted her wand, using ancient magic once more and catching its weapon mid air, flinging it back into the trolls face, disrupting it before once again calling down the lightning to finally defeat it.
Looking over she saw Sebastian staring up at her from the ground with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t.” She warned him as she examined the absolutely filthy state they found themselves in. Covered in dirt, sweat, blood and now troll boogies.
“What?” He asked feigning innocence as she rolled her eyes
“You know what.” Her tone was threatening but Sebastian hardly seemed to mind as he continued to mess with her.
“You know, I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look sexy while covered in troll boogies but here you are, proov-“ Sebastian was interrupted by a loud howl.
“You have got to be kidding me!” She replied, annoyed at the now incoming mongrels. Deciding she was done fighting for the time being she reached a hand out to Sebastian, and with him distracted she decided to use her newly acquired skills in apparition to get as far away as she could with a location she knew well in her mind…
“Wha-“ Sebastian looked slightly green at the sudden transportation but quickly regained composure before adding “if you wanted me alone darling all you had to do was say so”
Instead of reacting, she simply swatted him away, heading out from the entrance of the cave. Hoping to leave before Sebastian asked too many questions, she knew that the small borough of bainburgh was nearby, and there they could access the floo flame to get home.
“What is this place?” Sebastian asked, seeing the large carving of the graphorn above them, and she sighed seeing he had firmly planted himself at the entrance to the last keeper trial - the one she had gone in only a few years before.
“This is the entrance to the last keeper trial. I uh, had to tame a graphorn and it opened the door” she exclaimed casually as she continued to hope that he would shuffle away and drop the conversation.
“You what? There’s, but you, how?” He asked, still in shock at what she had told him. She simply shrugged asking “can we leave” while gesturing to the mouth of the gorge as he gave in and followed her.
“Why did you never tell me?” Sebastian asked softly.
“It happened around the same time as the catacomb. You were grieving. I didn’t want to bother you with all the keeper stuff. Then Fig- we don’t need to talk about it.” She explained and he relented, knowing that she often bottled up her emotions, as he did.
“Where are we heading?” Sebastian asked, allowing a change in subject.
“Bainburgh is not a far walk from here, we can take the floo -“ she started but he interrupted.
“It’s past curfew so the floo is shut off to the castle. That and I uh… dropped my bag of powder back when I knocked you to the ground” he exclaimed sheepishly.
“Wonderful. I just want to get these troll boogies off me.” She said rolling her eyes as they came to the beginnings of the forge, seeing jobberknols flying overhead before landing above a waterfall.
Sebastian seemed to have noticed the small pool of water at the base of the cliff as well bc he looked to her, wiggling his eyebrows as he pulled her towards the water.
“Well then Princess, your wish is my command. I’ll have those boogies off you in no time” he exclaimed as he marched the pair of them over to the water's edge.
“Sebastian that water is likely freezing, besides I can assure you, the extent of the grime I want off my body goes much further than what you can see” she nearly whined out, desperately wishing she’d stayed at the castle. She would’ve been bathed and in her night dressing, long asleep if he hadn’t convinced her. But one look into those puppy dog eyes and she'd been a goner.
“Warming charms exist for a reason. And as for the rest… I won’t look if you don’t” he teased, dropping her hand to start working off his plaid school jacket and starting to unbutton his waist coast.
“You can’t be serious” she deadpanned
“Deadly. Besides I heard that once dried, troll boogies are nearly impossible to get off your skin and hair-“ she started to explain and the fear alone of being caked in the vile substance was enough to have her started to undo the latches on her corset style vest.
“Fine. But I’m serious Sallow, no peaking” she warned and he turned out. As he did so, she faced the waters edge, knowing he’d given her the privacy of going into the cool water first. Slowly she removed layer after layer until she was bare, undoing the already messy braid, before wading into the cool water until it covered her from the neck down. In the moonlight she realized how difficult it would be for him to actually see anything, a comfort that allowed her to call to him.
“Alright, I’m facing the wall if you want to come in now” she exclaimed and she had anticipated him to slowly walk into the water as she had, but at the final piece of fabric she heard hit the ground, she soon was sprayed with the large splash his body made as he dived into the water.
Coming up for air he chuckled, expertly swimming towards her, while maintaining a respectable distance as she felt the cool water against her nipples.
“Damn, forgot the warming charm” he reminded her and she sighed realizing they’d be cold until they got out.
“I can go get my wand if you promise not to look-“ she tried to reason but he only swam closer, stopping just shy of her before standing up. While she was covered almost entirely, the tops of his shoulders and chest came into view. Seeing the patch of hair covering the center of his chest her words faltered on her tongue.
“See something you like darling?” He asked at her fish out of water expression.
“I - I’ll get my wand. Excuse me” she went to move but he reached forward, grabbing a shoulder to stop her, keeping his body at a slight distance.
“You know there’s other ways to keep warm right” he teased and she’d finally had enough.
“Would you stop it sallow!” She demanded with a frustrating sigh, pulling free of his grasp as she ducked completely underneath the water to rinse the last of the grime from her hair before breaking the surface.
“Stop what?” He asked, and if he hadn't moved closer while she was under the water, she wouldn’t have been able to see his genuine confusion, not just the fake innocence he loved to tease her with.
“Stop flirting with me when you have no intention of actually following through with anything” she warned and he quirked an eyebrow at her, continuing to close in on her as she moved back.
“What do you mean ‘no intention of following through’?” He asked, quoting her and she shrugged.
“I know you only flirt with me for fun or to see me get frustrated. It’s all some game to you, I know it’s not real” she replied somewhat sadly as she stilled her movements, sinking into the water some more, leaning her head back to see the stars as she felt the cool highland air nip her nose.
“That’s quite a bold assumption to make.” He replied, somewhat defensively but also slightly upset that she would assume something so poorly of him.
“Is it? You never have made a genuine attempt at courting me. Only making obscene comments every now and again or teasing me just to see me blush, then laughing at how red my face gets. How could I not assume it’s some game to you?” She replied, not looking at him as she continued to stare at the stars while soaking in the water.
“Have you perhaps considered that I am just bad at expressing my emotions. That it’s easier to make lighthearted jokes at the things that scare me” he asked her and she pulled her head back up, water drops sliding down her face and neck as she pushed all her hair back.
“I scare you?” She asked confused.
“MC, you terrify the shit out of me” he exclaimed with a distant look in his eye and for once she decided that perhaps she should be the one to tease him instead. Moving closer to him, she stopped just shy of his body, pushing him down so he was covered more by water and level with her.
“You said that troll boogies are hard to remove once they dry” she claimed, pointing to his hair which he has still yet to properly scrub.
“I mostly said that to get you naked.” He admitted bluntly
“Well you got me naked and now I’m offering to make sure all the grime is out of your hair. Can you just shut up and let me help you” she replied and he could only bring himself to nod as she moved behind him, and he dipped his head back as she had previously.
She brought her chilled fingers up to his soaked locks, feeling how silky his hair felt when wet and separating the strands from the sticky substance they had both fallen into earlier. Eventually she worked his hair until she was certain it would be salvageable with a real bath. Noticing the serene expression he wore as he had closed his eyes she commented “you really like having people touching your hair, don’t you”
“Only if by ‘people’ you mean the most beautiful witch I know then yes, I do enjoy it” he replied, looking at her before he pulled his head back free from the water and turned his body to her.
“Do you have an off switch somewhere I’m not aware of?”
“I do, but I’m not quite sure you want to put your hand on my cock and -“
“Sebastian!” She interrupted as he chuckled.
“Sorry, you sort of walked into that one” he gave her a toothy grin before noticing her mild shaking. In the brief amount of time they’d been in the water she was already cold.
“Here I can see you are freezing” he said holding out a hand and she shook her head.
“You think I’m just going to let you feel me up because I’m cold?” She asked and he shook his head with a curious grin.
“I didn’t realize that was on the table, perhaps that’s a better idea than what I had in mind-“ he teased only to feel her smack the exposed skin of his back.
“Feisty. I was going to try wandless magic but I wanted you to be behind me in case we have another confringo style disaster. As lovely as you are, I’d hate to see you without those eyebrows that are so often furrowed at me” he explained and she realized he was simply moving his body in front of hers and she accepted his hand, trying to ignore the way her thigh brushed against his leg as she moved around him in the water. Even the briefest skin to skin contact sent shivers up her spine.
Carefully using wandless magic he was able to slightly raise the temperature of the water around them until it was no longer freezing but it was still by no means pleasant.
“There, don’t want to get too crazy and turn us into a caldron but that’s an improvement… are you feeling alright?” He asked her sudden concern and if she had to guess it was over her distant expression which has resulted from the brief touch under the water.
“Never better.” She said bluntly as she looked at the way the moonlight reflected off his dark eyes or his soaked brown hair clung to his forehead instead of the fringe’s usual place of being pushed off his face.
“Are you sure?” He continued to step towards her with concern.
“Positive” she replied, stepping back, only to find herself up against a rock in the water as he kept coming forward. eventually planting himself directly in front of her, to the point she could feel the occasional brush of his legs against hers as the water lapped around them and the most from the waterfall fell around them.
As Sebastian looked at her with her flushed cheeks, she looked down embarrassed to have been caught in this position with him, but as she did so she realized that the faintest outline of her breasts would be visible through the surface of the water. Looking up at him, she saw his vision trained on exactly what she’d noticed.
She couldn’t find it in herself to reply as his eyes snapped back to her own. Instead she let him take the lead, pushing his hand out and planting himself against the rock behind her as he scooted closer.
“Are you as scared of me, as I am of you MC, because I gotta tell you: dark wizards, mongrel and trolls don’t scare me, but this terrifies me” he admitted while looking at her through downcast eyelids. She didn’t say a word, only flickering her gaze down to his lips as he continued to press his body closer. Bringing a hand up she laid it on his chest , but didn’t push him away, simply holding it there. Underneath her palm she could feel his heart pounding. The feeling of his heartbeat and the nervous shakiness in his breath told her he wasn’t lying.
Finally finding the last bit of courage she pressed off the rock and slowly brought an arm up to loop around his neck, her body floating in the water as she gently tread. At first he seemed surprised but quickly wrapped an arm around her bare waist, feeling her soft skin with the other.
“Positively terrified Sallow… are you too frightened to kiss me or..?” She teased and he leaned in pausing only briefly as he hovered his mouth over hers to ask
“You know there’s no going back to the way things were before if we do this?” He asked and she nodded, tipping her face up and closing the gap to answer his question.
He groaned at the feeling of her lips on his and the gentle way she clung to his body for support as he could stand in the water while she was too short. Hoisting her up slightly, he moved a hand down to grope her curves under the water's surface as they kissed.
Breaking away he remarked “Merlin you’re so beautiful” he said sincerely as he rested his forehead on hers.
She giggled at his compliment, kissing his nose before responding “easy for you to say when you’ve already gotten me naked and we haven’t even been on a proper date”
“You don’t think slaying trolls isn’t a wonderful date actively?”
“Certainly not traditional”
“Have either of us ever been traditional?”
“No I suppose not” she replied once again chuckling.
“Come here, how often do we find ourselves truly alone… I’m not wasting a second of tasting those sweet lips of yours” he demanded, pulling her close as they kissed under the moonlight, entranced in the pool together
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pelicanfarmer · 7 months
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My Dragon’s Lair.
Made this for Sebastian and the farmer for all those DnD campaigns on the weekends.
Sam and Abi are a given, they usually show up with food ever since they found out the Farmer made her own brew. Their flower mead’s especially popular. Abi always fascinated with the farmer’s recounting of the caves with Seb occasionally chiming in when he’s joined Farmer on quests.
Elliot and Leah are a welcome addition to the DnD campaigns. Eli once overheard the group talking about a new story they were working on and wanted to observe. Leah was there for the vibes but pretty soon got into it as their resident chaotic blacksmith.
Emily, the Farmer’s bestie, dragged Shane over once with the promise of good mead. Em likes going and the group loves having her there because of her eccentric ideas and plot twists. Shane becomes their resident voice of reason often saving the group from demise and also surprisingly lucky with his Nat20s. Haley sometimes comes, warming up to the group, they discover she has a real knack for changing voices and giving her characters life.
The group was most surprised though when the Farmer managed to drag Marlon into one campaign and all his very (scarily) realistic battle strategies.
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gunraekae · 3 months
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having an off day
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Ophelia by Friedrich Heyser
>ikemen vampire
>mansion residents x reader
>a/n: so sorry for the weird formatting in advance. i hope it makes sense. enjoy! 
You woke up with the weight of an oppressive dread. A black hole in you seemed to suck the vitality out of you. Usually your spirit was at least alive and willing to get you out of bed, but this morning, it was only dead static in your chest. You could chalk it up to feeling homesick or hopelessness with your predicament, but nonetheless, you were not up to it at all today. 
Still, you willed yourself out of bed, afraid to let Sebastian and the residents down (though you knew they wouldn’t fault you for being off, you still felt the obligation because Le Comte is letting you stay for free, after all.)
On that note, the residents would fs feel a disturbance in the force if you weren’t out in the mansion today. You not being there would set off a chain reaction and have them be grumpy and having off days too. 
While setting up breakfast with Sebastian, you asked for the cleaning tasks for the rest of the day. You loved the residents but unfortunately could muster up no energy to talk to anyone today. Sebastian's obviously the first to catch on, and as the mansion’s biggest gossip, will spread this notion to any and every vampire he encounters. Thankfully, he didn't question it and hesitantly granted you permission. He usually doesn’t give you the heavier tasks like cleaning, but seeing your dour mood, he caught on that you wanted the solitude. 
While passing out breakfast for the morning vampires (Arthur, Vincent, Theo, Dazai, Isaac, Mozart, Comte) you were unusually quiet. Usually, you would bashfully respond to Arthur’s flirty remarks or retaliate to Theo’s teasing, but today you only acknowledged everyone with a slight (and very forced) smile.
Dazai Osamu
I'm of the belief that Dazai has a sadness antenna that catches on to everyone’s emotions as soon as they feel them. So best believe that as soon as you woke up, he could already sense a disturbance in the force. 
So when you very quietly poured tea for him, he placed a gentle hand on your arm and gave you a silent “are you ok?” look. He could tell that you didn’t want to bring attention to yourself, but also didn’t want to leave you like this. 
The deal he made with you when you first arrived came to mind. He proposed that whenever you felt even the slightest inclination of sadness, that you came to him to confide in (because you know he gets it fs). 
You acknowledged it with a solemn nod, wanting to communicate that you remembered the promise but couldn’t do it just yet. Dazai pursed his lips in quiet uncertainty, but allowed you to continue your chores. 
Later in the afternoon, while tending to the gardens outside, Dazai nonchalantly sat by your working figure. He settled for watching you work before piping up, “how fortunate the flowers are to be cared for by you.” You may have jumped a little bit, having been lost in your thoughts. 
Dazai’s gentle smile seemed more genuine this time; not quite the clownish mask he usually wore. “Unfortunately for you, I may be the only one who understands your predicament the most.” He walked next to you, a serene silence in the air.  
You confess as much of your melancholy as you could put into words while Dazai remained contemplative and respectfully quiet. Whether it was your mental wellness being disturbed, thoughts of home, or even just a broad exhaustion, Dazai will listen and understand. Sometime during your tirade, tears seeped out from your eyes unnoticed, except by his golden eyes. He softly cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away; his touch never more than gentle. 
At that moment, Dazai touched your face as if it was a delicate flower petal about to fall to its demise. His heart clenched in both tender affection at your vulnerability around him, and deep anguish that it was you who suffered and he couldn’t take that burden instead. How was it that a beautiful angel like you was tormented at this moment and not him, the sinful monster who was deserving of your burden and more. Still, he kept those demeaning thoughts quiet and yearned that his love could be felt in his gentle touches to your cheek. 
Dazai is the most sensitive to others’ emotions and will be the first to catch on to any of your mood changes. He'd rather die than leave you toiling in your own sadness, so he’ll follow you around until you confide in him. As tragic as it is, it’s his responsibility to make sure no one else, and especially not someone he cares about so deeply like you, feels the same torture he does. 
Arthur Conan Doyle
The writers are perceptive and sensitive to people’s emotions and characters, and usually you love them for that. Today, it made you the slightest bit frustrated. With only a meek “thank you” to Arthur’s compliment of, “your beautiful face is the perfect start to this day, love” he knew something was wrong. 
You poured his coffee quietly, hoping no one would pay attention to you. Arthur placed a soft hand against your back and asked lowly, “are you alright? Did something happen?” you shook your head and gave him an appreciative smile. 
You moved to pour Theo’s drink next, but Arthur’s arm wrapped around your waist. He motioned for you to come closer and so you leaned down.
“I've got to run errands in town today, but I'll find you once I get back. Do you think you can talk to me then?” he whispered. 
“I'm not sure.”
“I hate to leave you like this, love, really. At least promise me you can hold out until later and you can take all your frustration out on me, yes?” you find yourself laughing a little at his suggestion. He smiled in victory and gave your waist a small squeeze before letting you go.
Once Arthur returns from his errands, it’s just nearing lunch. True to his word, he finds you in the mansion (good luck evading his genius mind) and vows to take you out for a meal. You can refuse all you want, but it truly does wound him seeing you the slightest bit upset. Maybe his past influences that, but nonetheless, he wants to make you happy. 
He’ll do everything in his power to make you laugh, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll try and pester you so that you take your anger out on him. 
He treats you like a princess during the date, hooking his arm under yours, pushing your chair in, paying for everything, and if you were up to it, taking you shopping afterwards. 
He’ll try and seek out a case nearby as those tend to cheer you up and serve as a welcome distraction. 
Whether you choose to confide in him or not, he might have already caught on to what made you upset and will subtly offer a word of advice or comfort, depending on whichever you needed. And he’s perceptive enough to catch on to what you need. 
Nevertheless, the author’s darling attempts of alleviating your mood will likely be a success. Arthur is one of the tragic ones who would rather suffer than even endure the thought of his cared ones being upset. And you’re the one who brought new light into his revived life, so admittedly, he enjoys being there for you. If you allow him past your walls, Arthur would do just about everything to prove it was worth doing so. His care may be hidden under layers of deceptive and cliché flirtation, but a little unravelling shows just how tenderly he cares for you. So while his attempts do reflect that playboy life, the warm hand on your back proves there is no one in this new life he treasures more than yourself. 
Theodorus van Gogh
Still feeling Arthur’s and Dazai’s worried looks on your back, you moved on to Theo, who was unfortunately, less perceptive than the two. 
“Took you long enough, hondje. Dogs aren’t known to be so slow.” he huffed, having already placed a generous amount of sugar in his cup. You could barely register the small, “sche uit, Theo,” from Vincent. Still, his comment served to sour your mood even further, a sinking feeling in your heart suddenly blurring your eyes. 
Your spatial awareness being off, you almost overfilled Theo’s cup. This time, he took notice of your shaky and meek manner. He was about to complain, but when you turned to him to apologise, he saw your teary eyes.
“You hurt? What happened? Who hurt you?” Theo immediately asked in concern. You shook your head in alarm. His handsome face scrunched in concern, and he reached out to seize your arm to steady its shaking. He set down the coffee pot and checked if your arm got burnt. 
he gruffly passed the coffee pot to his brother, and when he was faced with questioning looks from the rest of the table he simply said, “you pour your own damn coffee.” He motioned for you to leave, wanting to relieve you of your duties for this morning as a small mercy. 
Theo is unfortunately one of the busier men of the mansion, so he can’t do much until the evening when he returns. So despite the tense morning, there’s no resolution until after supper. what his words can’t deliver though, his actions do. 
Regardless of how many residents have comforted you, you remained silent and thoughtful. Their efforts were greatly appreciated, but your energy was still depleted. 
Theo catches you right after cleaning up with Sebastian. He hid a large box behind his broad back, strangely timid from his usual bold character. He cleared his throat, “hondje, I brought you something home from work. you told me you liked this last time I took you out for a walk.” 
He stepped aside to show you the large and very sweetly decorated cake in the box. you knew how expensive it was, and for a man like Theo, who was quite savvy with money, you felt a tinge of guilt for making him waste money on you. 
“Theo, thank you. I don't know what to say, you really didn’t have to.”
“Hush hondje. A master’s supposed to take care of his puppy. And you’ve been working hard lately—you deserve a little treat.” 
Of course, Theo indulges in the dessert with you, he may have bought it partly for himself too. But when he saw you enjoying something he gave you, it warmed his heart. Perhaps your smile is sweeter than any dessert he’s had before—and he’s got quite a sweet tooth. 
Theo can be brash, and not nearly as emotionally perceptive as the others. So initially, he’ll be his usual gruff and teasing self. But he’s a good man (savannah), and will always serve you, regardless of the master-puppy dynamic he’s got going on. He’s weak to you, and would hand you the world just to get a glimpse of your sweet smile again. He can’t have his pretty girl sad, that makes him a terrible master. 
Vincent van Gogh
You shook your head, insisting that you stay to help Sebastian. Theo disapprovingly shook his head and tried to stop you from doing more work, but you’d already moved to Vincent’s side. 
Vincent already caught on as soon as Theo asked if you were okay. He poured his coffee himself, so you passed him the small bowl of butter and served a plate of sliced fruit to help. Vincent gently stroked your back, “Schatje, we’re just fine here, you can sit down. Have you had breakfast yourself yet?” knowing you never liked to put yourself first. 
“I'm just fine, Vincent. thank you.” you stuttered out. He hummed in concern, “Sebas told me you were doing laundry outside today. I'll come help you, if that’s alright?” you shook your head, touched at his kind offer, but dreadful over having a companion. As sweet as Vincent was, you were afraid of being too brash with him, with how short your patience was today. 
“We don't have to talk or anything, I'm offering because I want to, mc. please?” Vincent’s pleading eyes were too precious, so you gave him a hesitant nod. 
Vincent brightened up, his angelic smile lifting your spirits up slightly. with a warm day like today, he usually painted outside anyway. at least you wouldn’t have to be with him the whole time. 
He gave your arm an appreciative squeeze before you left. you weren’t sure how to thank him exactly. 
True to his word, the moment you stepped foot outside, you were greeted with his “could heal any and every problem in the world” smile. He was extra handsome wearing his simple, white, button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up. 
You gave him an appreciative nod, a bit flustered with having someone help you with such a simple task. Still, Vincent pleasantly hummed with no complaints, hanging the clothes you washed. 
It’s true that his hands were blessed by god, but his somewhat clumsy work with clipping the clothes on the line was a contrast to his paintings. Still, his determined expression dispelled any frustration you had, with how hardworking and adorable he was. 
With Vincent’s help (and the soft melody of Mozart's distant piano playing), the laundry was hung in sufficient time. other than having tea with Comte, you really didn’t have much left to do this early afternoon. Vincent cutely tilted his head in curiosity at your zoned out face. 
When he giggled, you snapped out of your stupor and glanced questioningly at him. “sorry! you’re just so cute staring into space like that.” Flustered, you faced away from him. 
“Don’t just say things like that Vincent. you’ll give me the wrong idea.”
“I mean it though. you’re adorable even just breathing.” He was doing that thing where he innocently compliments you, but just like his brother, actually wants to see you flustered. 
“Vincent!”
“and now you’re even lovelier when you’re all embarrassed!” Vincent chuckled, finally relenting when your hands fully covered your burning face. 
“Sorry for teasing you. I was just hoping I could make you smile. I know I'm not nearly as funny as Napoleon, or as dependable as Leonardo, but it hurts me to see you in pain, mc.” Vincent gently pried your hands away, holding them in his bigger and warmer ones. He stroked your palms in gentle circles. 
Really, he wanted to just wrap you in an embrace and hoped that you would let out your emotions to him. But he knew you needed time and patience before confiding in him. If you allowed it, he would stay all-day with you, just comforting and listening to any of your vulnerable confessions you chose to indulge him to. 
Eventually, you did relent to receiving a warm hug from him. you couldn’t see his face, but he was overjoyed you felt safe enough with him to do so. 
Angelic Vincent wishes he could take any and every pain you feel and take it all himself. It truly breaks his heart seeing your usually bright spirit so down, so he’ll do everything he can to comfort you. He’s patient and gentle; never crossing any of your boundaries and allowing you to take whatever you need and however long it takes you to find that out. He’ll help you with your work, sing you to sleep, feed you treats (that you hope he didn’t make), and give you as much or as little as you need. He cares about you deeply and only hopes he can be enough to cure at least a little bit of the pain you feel. 
Comte de Saint-Germain
Comte's face was already scrunched in worry from the moment you entered the dining hall. his calm and elegant demeanour belied it, but he was eager to finally talk to you. Once you reached his side, you swore you could almost hear the sigh of relief. 
“I speak for everyone when I say that no one can start their day right without seeing your face, chérie.” Ever the romantic, Comte wants to reassure you that you’re wanted (needed actually), and that he appreciates your being there. 
You’d be hard-pressed not to feel flustered by his words. “You’re exaggerating, Comte, but thank you.” Your usual routine consisted of having tea with Comte in the early afternoon, but you weren’t sure you’d make good company. “about later today comte—“
“I'll have the tea and desserts set up. i’ve found this new patisserie in the city—“
“comte, i’m really sorry—“
“You don’t have to do any work, mc. I want you to take a break.” He was clearly well-intentioned and the break did sound tempting. so with much hesitation, you relented to comte’s demands. 
Perhaps a little part of you dreaded it, knowing how protective Comte was over you. He’ll pry, and if he found out that it was another person’s doing that caused your mood, he’ll cause a riot (gracefully and elegantly, mind you). He was already waiting at the garden’s gazebo, a spread of various sweet pastries and steaming tea set up for you. 
He perked up upon seeing you, pushing your chair in as you sat down. He poured you tea and placed one of each pastry on your plate while you hopelessly tried to stop him. 
“I'm simply ecstatic you could join me today, ma chérie.” he hummed, sipping his tea. 
“It's not anyone’s fault, it’s just me.” You wanted to clear up what you knew he was itching to find out. his shoulders sagged down in relief for a brief moment before settling back into his perfect posture. 
“That's a relief, but I still want to make sure you’re okay, mc. Come, have some tea.” 
You could feel Comte’s golden eyes watching your every move, but otherwise, the tea was excellent and he was certainly generous with all the pastries. 
The real surprise was later in the night, after dinner, when comte asked you to meet him in his office. He was on the balcony, gazing out to the Parisian landscape (he would have been smoking then, but he tries not to). 
“You called for me, comte?” 
“Ah yes. mc.” The way he said your name was admittedly a bit seductive when accompanied by his golden eyes. he had this excited air about him, unknown if it was for innocent or more sinful reasons. He motioned towards a concerningly large box on his table. you opened it, and to your surprise (not really let’s bfr), there was a beautiful silk dress in your favourite colour. 
Comte moved close from behind you, and with a quiet “may i?” he delicately  put a necklace on your neck, the light brush of his fingers dizzying. 
He trailed his hands down to your shoulders and squeezed them, before descending to your arms. “ma chérie, i want to make you feel better. how can i do that for you?” he rubbed your arms up and down before wrapping around your body altogether. 
In this position, you could cry in peace, ramble in frustration, or be silent and enjoy his embrace without fear of judgement. He couldn’t see your expression, to save any embarrassment on your end, but he’s still there. 
Comte will definitely be protective and try and figure out if it was anyone made you upset. He would commit a murder to whoever did, but if there wasn’t anyone, he’d focus on making you feel better. His love language is gifts, quite obviously, but I also like to believe that he’s an acts of service guy who’d want to make things at least a little easier for you, like giving you a break. He'd want to reward you with gifts, expensive, but the kind that he knows you like. and if that doesn’t show you he cares about you, he’ll stay long enough to help you recover; in a way, he feels proudly possessive, knowing you could show your vulnerability to only him. 
Napoleon Bonaparte
As one of the late risers, you were tasked with waking him up in the morning. you did your usual routine of ripping the blankets off him and blocking his kiss with your hand. this time though, you left the former emperor be, once you caught sight of his half-opened eyes. 
He took a minute to catch on to your disappearance (forgive him, he’s half-awake) but as soon as it registered in his sleepy brain, he zoomed out of his room to catch your retreating figure. 
You knew he was one of the persistent men of the mansion, unable to leave you alone even when you weren’t upset. so this time around, he was hellbent on following you until you’d answer his inquiries. 
“Nunuche? what’s gotten into you?” he would quickly catch up to you and grip your arm until you show him your teary face. And only then would he relent and hold your hand instead.
You could confide in him and tell him about all your problems, because after all, he was the man who saved you and vowed to protect you all this time. However, even if you didn’t at that moment, nothing would stop Napoleon from making you feel better. 
He would briefly venture into town to absolve him of any of his guard duties so he could remain at your side the entire day. Perhaps a bit of an overreaction on his part, but owing his new life to you, he wanted to prioritise you above all else. 
Unlike a certain lazy Italian, this Italian will politely request that you be relieved of your tasks, and though you insisted on at least completing the laundry with Vincent and having tea with Comte, you relented to his demands. 
His usual routine was to take you to the stables and run as far as you can on his horse. It was often what helped him dispel the ghosts from his past; the coolness of the afternoon wind was a soothing balm to your face that was drenched with hot tears. He would childishly ignite a race between the two of you through the vast woods surrounding Comte’s mansion, if only to ease your heavy mind with a far less laborious task. 
He’d lead you to a small meadow on the outskirts of the fields, far from prying eyes and ears. There you can let any emotion out: whether that was a yell of frustration, a scream of rage, or harsh sobs, Napoleon will do it first, if it removes any embarrassment on your end. 
Whether you choose to confide in him or not, (which you likely would, considering how unyieldingly supportive and protective Napoleon had been for you thus far) Napoleon will willingly listen to anything you say. You could wax cheesy poetry, ponder about the origins of the universe, or just recall mundane moments in the mansion, but Napoleon will respond in kind to any silly statement you make. 
Napoleon of all people wouldn’t be opposed to having a nap on the soft, dewy grass, under the blanket of the warm setting sun. Once it gets cold though, he’d take you back to the mansion. 
If you still felt overwhelmed, he would bring you up to the attic that overlooked the Paris skyline. 
Napoleon, as he hopes that you consider him one of your closest companions, would do everything in his power to ease your pain. He’d begin by alleviating your work for the day, and whether that entailed him undertaking those chores or simply helping you with them, he’d do anything. Then, he might try what works best for him when he has his off days, usually in regard to the past, but allow you to dictate what he can or can’t do. Really, he hopes that whatever he does dispels those clouds of anguish and replaces it with some good old Napoleon humour. As the evening closes in, he’d take you to the attic. With only the stars and the moon as your witness, Napoleon would do everything in his power to bring you comfort. 
sorry that i wasn't able to write for everyone in this post, but I'll feature the rest (Leonardo, Isaac, Mozart, Jean, and a few bonus characters) on the next post. i just wanted to get some content out now.
if you made it this far, thank you so much for spending your time on my writing. lmk if you enjoyed it (or didn't, but pls be nice abt it I'm sensitive). have a great day, my dear <3
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