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euovennia · 1 year

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oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 22 days

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Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

#aita #am i the asshole

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lelengerine · 2 months

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now playing... "show and tell"

pairing | basketball varsity!chenle x artist!reader

synopsis | draw a pretty boy and perhaps he'll come to you.

genre | just literal 3 am fluff thoughts, bball player chenle slight brainrot, no specific prns are used (lmk if there's anything i've missed!)

wc | 0.9k

notes | so... i'm back and it's been a long while 😄 kinda forgot about tumblr for a sec but i hope you guys still remember me TT i was pretty much in a slump + acads were crazy, however!!! i am back!!! somewhat!!! likes and feedback are always appreciated (also new post layout yayy)

m.list

the air inside the school’s gymnasium has always felt humid as it clings to your skin like a damp blanket. the place has the distinct scent of sweat — entire buckets of it actually — while the occasional skid of sneakers on the rubber floor sends involuntary shivers down your spine. it’s hardly a place one would choose for peace of mind, yet here you are, perched on the bleachers, busily drawing on your sketchpad all because of a boy.

honestly, you wouldn’t be willingly subjecting yourself to this either if he wasn’t so… pretty. he sported vibrant orange hair that matched him well, the tips sticking together from the sweat on his forehead. his cheeks were flushed from from the heat, but that didn’t bother him one bit as he energetically ran around the court. but it's his smile that captivates you the most, its brightness rivaling that of the sun, his eyes forming playful whiskers as they crinkle into crescents — a sight you've translated onto the pages of your sketchbook more times than you’d like to admit.

how were you supposed to turn down drawing someone like him as an art student? one that’s in an art slump no less.

curse all pretty men, you tell yourself as your pencil scritches over the surface of your sketchbook.

you weren’t even acquainted to him one bit. in fact, you’ve only learned of his name around a week ago? it was zhong chenle if your memory serves you right.

your friend had told you he was the famous ace of your school’s basketball team, mostly for being able to make shots from such large distances. she was shocked you weren’t even aware of the boy when he was usually the talk of the entire student body, especially during the time championship season rolls around.

hell, you don’t even care much for the sport, but he’s making you second guess that too with the way he moves so effortlessly — like he was made to play this sport. perhaps you could understand the infatuation many others harbor for him… just a tiny bit.

you continue your sketch nonetheless, stuck erasing and re-drawing a certain line that doesn’t want to bend in your favor. it seems to have taken all of your focus, as you don’t even register the sound of footsteps approaching you. a tap is placed on your shoulder, and you turn around to find the exact boy you’ve been drawing for the entirety of his varsity practice.

“is that supposed to be me?” his words are laced with intrigue, accompanied by a gentler smile than you're accustomed to, yet just as captivating in its own right — wait. why is he even here talking to you? peeking at your drawings no less?

“nope. it’s not.” you lie through your teeth without an ounce of hesitation, flipping to the cover of your sketchbook faster than he utter out another word.

“please, who else even has orange hair here?”

“who said the person i was drawing was even real? for all you know, he could be an anime character.” you counter, trying to deflect his curiosity.

“yeah, totally explains why you’ve been hanging out here more lately.” he retorts, raising his finger in mock admonishment, his playful smirk betraying his teasing tone. “don’t think i haven’t noticed you, cause i have.”

“what are you? some security guard keeping records of the people who come to the gym?” you muse, meeting his gaze with a hint of amusement.

he leans in a bit closer, voice lowering conspiratorially. “well, maybe I've been keeping an eye out for someone who appreciates my... what should i call it? anime character potential?”

your heart skips a beat at his proximity, but you maintain your playful demeanor. "oh, is that what you're calling it now? i just needed a little inspiration and the confines of the art room weren’t doing it for me.” technically what you said is true, he doesn’t need to know that he’s actually the main reason your artist block has subsided.

his grin widens, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “inspiration, huh? well, i can guarantee you'll be entertained with me around.”

“you don’t need to keep me entertained, i do that already on my own.”

“oh yeah? by watching me?”

“you just want to fuel your ego, don’t you.”

“maybe a little.” his eyes smile, voice taking on a teasing lilt, "what else have you been sketching lately? any other anime characters i should know about?"

you laugh, a nervous pitter patter dancing in your chest at the prospect of sharing more of your work with him. these were your prized possessions after all. "oh, you know, just the usual. random doodles here and there."

he only beams at your response, leaning back slightly as if to better admire your reaction. "well, i’d love to see more of your usual sometime. maybe you could show me what else you've got hidden in that sketchbook of yours."

the invitation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. "uh, sure. yeah, maybe sometime," you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for not sounding more confident in front of him.

but before the conversation can continue, a shrill whistle cuts through the air, signaling the end of chenle’s supposed water break. he glances towards the court, a regretful expression flickering across his face. "looks like i’ve got to go," he says, pushing himself off the bleachers and standing up. "but hey, don't forget about our little art show-and-tell date, okay?”

hold on, did he just call it a date? "hey, wait a moment-" you try calling after him, yet he's already disappeared onto the court. that wasn’t anywhere close to a proper invitation, but your heart flutters at the thought nonetheless.

fine, you conclude to yourself — if it’s a date he wants, then you suppose you could spare some more time for him.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #chenle fluff #zhong chenle fluff #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles

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thenerdykneazle · 6 months

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The Scriptorium

Summary: After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

Ominis Gaunt x GN!MC

A/N: The fact that I haven't written and posted an Ominis one shot before this is a crime, honestly. Almost as much of a crime as it is that after the trauma that is the scriptorium, both boys just walk away at the end of the mission. So, I fixed it. Also, the first 2.4k of this is a description of the scriptorium mission. Most of the events/dialogue are straight from the game. So, feel free to skip ahead to the middle of this (once they're out of the scriptorium) if you don't need the refresher.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talks of child abuse, descriptions of being crucio'd, awkward teenagerness in general, MC is naked for part of it but it's not sexual (they just needed a bath, okay?), Sebastian is a walking red flag in this mission but that's not my fault

Word count: 4880

You wound down the dark staircase, descending into Slytherin’s scriptorium. Sebastian entered in after you.

“Dark ominous corridors. My favourite,” he quipped.

“No comment,” Ominis replied coolly as he followed you both.

“Come on, that was a good one,” Sebastian said jovially.

You held back a snicker.

The ancient corridor at the bottom was littered with shattered stone and ended in a sealed door. You found a note left by Noctua Gaunt. She had been here. You repaired the stone into a relief, which Sebastian pointed out showed a person facing a snake.

Ominis shifted anxiously on his feet. He explained the sinister voice he heard telling him to speak to it. He told you how he was a Parselmouth – someone who could speak to snakes. He was certain that speaking to the door would open it, but he was hesitant.

“I’m hoping you’re having second thoughts,” he admitted.

“I see no reason we should stop now,” you replied, unaware of how much you’d come to regret those words.

Ominis breathed out a defeated sigh. “It’s ironic. When I left home, I vowed to leave the Dark Arts behind. And yet, here I am…Stand back.”

You took several steps backward, and Ominis turned to face the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself.

You stared in awe as a low hissing came from your friend’s lips. The eyes of two of the snakes carved in the door illuminated with green light, and they slithered up around the frame. The door opened.

“It worked!” you said, stunned. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out,” Sebastian whinged light-heartedly.

Ominis’s brows drew together. “Between the two of us?”

“I – never mind,” Sebastian stuttered, realizing his slip.

You weren’t sure yet if you could trust Ominis with your secret. Professor Fig had asked you not to share details with anyone, and you’d already gone against that advice with Sebastian.

You entered into the next room and were met with a locked gate. Next to it was a dial with a statue of a snake atop it. Once you were all inside, the door you’d come through shut behind you. That was the first moment where you thought this might be a mistake. Sebastian pointed out another sealed gate. Ominis suggested inspecting them for clues on how to proceed forward.

You ducked through a half-opened gate and found another note from Noctua. Her description of feeling unwelcome in the scriptorium didn’t inspire confidence in you. Nearby was another dial. You lit the torch beside it and turned one of the large metal discs. A hissing emitted from the statue as it began to rotate. You flicked through the dial, studying the symbols. Both discs had the same pattern.

In a flash, the snake lunged at you, biting your jaw as you stumbled backwards.

“That didn’t sound good,” Ominis said.

“It’s fine,” you asserted, frustration edging into your voice as you wiped the blood from your face with your sleeve. You really should’ve expected something like that.

“Salazar Slytherin didn’t make this easy,” Sebastian observed.

Obviously, you thought as you rolled your eyes. You’d be more than happy to let him take a stab at the dial.

You returned to the other dial. The gate next to it had symbols carved into it, as well. You illuminated your wand and saw that they matched some from the dial. You wished you’d noted that earlier.

“I think matching the dial to the symbols on the gate will open it,” you said.

“It seems Slytherin liked to play games,” Ominis said thoughtfully.

“Must run in the family,” Sebastian quipped.

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian,” Ominis replied irritably.

You quickly aligned the symbols on the dial to the ones sealing the doorway next to it. The serpents on the metal gate shifted, and it raised automatically.

“Matching the symbols did open it,” you said, relieved. You had half expected to be bitten again.

“Was about to do that myself, but you got to it first,” Sebastian said.

You just shot him a waspish look.

He coughed awkwardly. “Nice work,” he said.

You shook your head before continuing forward. In a pit at the end of the corridor, you found a third dial along with another note from Noctua.

I failed the dial, and it struck my face as if it were a real serpent, she started. You scoffed to yourself. Yeah, thanks for the warning, you thought sarcastically as you dabbed at your stinging jaw. She continued on in her letter to decry the way their family forced dark magic on their children.

“Ominis, your aunt wanted to change your family’s traditions,” you said.

“She did,” he confirmed in a wistful voice. “And she was my favourite person in the world for it.”

You felt a pang of sorrow for your friend. He’d lost the only member of his family that had ever been decent to him. You hoped for his sake that this adventure would provide answers as to what happened to her.

You went back to the main room, checking the symbols on the other gate that was still sealed. You went back to the dial that’d bitten you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you shifted the discs. There were two dials and only one door. You couldn’t be certain which went with it. You were relieved when you heard the metal clanking of the gate opening, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“That sounded promising,” Ominis said.

“Another dial solved,” you replied gleefully as you searched for another door.

“Impressive. Nice work,” Ominis’s silky voice called out almost reverently from the dark.

You chuckled at how similar yet distinct the two Slytherins were, complimenting you with the same words but in entirely different ways.

You entered the newly opened archway. You read yet another note left behind by Noctua, warning of painful challenges but telling of rewards, as well. You relayed the information to your companions.

“Painful – that’s the part I’m wary of,” Ominis said, sounding nervous.

“All I heard was rewards. Keep going,” Sebastian replied with a flippant fort of confidence.

Sure enough, there was another gate at the back of the new room. You wound your way back to the remaining dial and shifted it to match the final gate. Once you aligned the discs, the gate opened with a hiss. You downed a wiggenweld to heal your gashed chin now that you weren’t likely to be bitten again. Hopefully.

“Excellent work,” Sebastian said brightly. “We’re another step closer to the scriptorium.”

Sebastian was just outside the archway when you made it back. “I spotted something ahead,” he said, fear edging into his voice for the first time. “Looks troubling.”

“This whole place is troubling, but, for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now,” Ominis replied.

You noted privately that you couldn’t really stop even if you had wanted to. Having only one way forward, the three of you crept into the newly revealed corridor. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach as you stepped inside.

Curiously, the torches lining the space were already lit. More clanking rang out behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian said in a panicked tone. “I think we’re locked in. Again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis said dismally.

You were inclined to agree. You couldn’t help but think that Noctua’s optimism about the Hogwarts founder was misplaced. You approached the door at the end of the corridor, feeling a cold wash over you like walking through a ghost.

Your heart dropped as you spotted the bones lying in front of the door, right next to the word ‘crucio’ in glowing letters. On the other side of the skeleton, you found another note. With shaking hands, you reread how to proceed. You looked again at the remains of Ominis’s aunt. You felt like you were about to be sick.

“Ominis. A skeleton…And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse,” you said, unable to bring yourself to put it more directly.

Ominis looked shattered. “This…is where she died,” he said in disbelief. He began pacing in anger. “This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you.”

His words struck harder than you would’ve expected.

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt,” Sebastian said. “But, I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.”

You raised an eyebrow at the brunet. You discussed the matter with him. He voiced aloud what you already knew. The only way out was casting the cruciatus curse. Something only one of you had done before. Sebastian implored you to talk to Ominis.

You had already convinced him to go into this despicable place. You couldn’t ask him to cast an unforgivable, too. Sebastian steeled himself to confront him.

“Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do–” Sebastian started.

“Yes! It is! I thought you knew me better!” Ominis spat back.

“But this is different,” Sebastian insisted. “Whoever you cast it upon will have agreed to it first. It wouldn’t be an innocent ‘victim.’ We have to open the door.”

“The spell won’t work unless you mean it,” Ominis said. “That’s true of all unforgivables. If it must be done, then one of you must cast it.”

“What do we do now?” you asked Sebastian. “Ominis is not going to cast the cruciatus curse again.”

“Ridiculous!” Sebastian groused. “As if dying in here is a better option than casting a damned spell.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s up to us. I can teach you crucio, or I can cast it on you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait – you didn’t say you knew how to cast crucio,” you said.

Sebastian pursed his lips. “Because I’m not sure I do,” he replied. “Ominis knows that, yet he’s left us no choice. I don’t yearn to follow in Noctua Gaunt’s footsteps.” He glanced down at the remains. “I think I can cast it if I have to.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of casting the curse. The hatred required. “I don’t want to learn the curse, but I can handle the pain,” you said more confidently than you felt. “It’s fine. Cast it on me.”

“I shan’t forget this,” Sebastian vowed. He swallowed thickly. “Ready?”

You nodded. “I’m ready,” you said, though your trembling voice betrayed how untrue that was. How could you be ready for such a thing?

Sebastian raised his wand. “Crucio!” he said quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

A red bolt erupted from his wand and struck you. You crumpled to the floor as blinding pain flooded through your whole body. You cried out. It was like molten shrapnel had exploded out from within you, shredding your muscles, tearing apart your organs, and splintering your bones.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian asked, his voice was scared and distant.

You could barely make sense of the words as your senses were overtaken. The red jet arced from you to the door, and it melted away. Jolts of pain still crackled through you as you pushed yourself onto your feet. You struggled to pull air into your lungs.

“A-are you all right?” Ominis asked, clearly shaken.

“That pain,” you groaned. You looked at Ominis’s horrified expression and felt guilt stab into you at the trauma he must be relieving. You couldn’t imagine going through that so young. “It was excruciating, but I’ll survive. Let’s keep moving.”

You just wanted out of there.

Sebastian was enraptured as he entered the room – as if it were sodding Honeydukes and not the lair of a dark wizard. Ominis edged cautiously inside, as well. For once, the door didn’t slam behind you.

You found an old tome and informed Sebastian and Ominis.

“You found something?” Sebastian asked excitedly.

“You two go ahead – let me know what’s in it,” Ominis said, voice still quavering. “I’ll wander around a bit.”

You were about to check on him, but Sebastian appeared at your side. “May I have a look?” he asked, gesturing to the book in your grasp. You handed it over.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“Looks like a spellbook of some kind,” Sebastian replied eagerly. “This is incredible! A Hogwarts founder’s possession – what an honour.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe Ominis never told me about his aunt and what she found.”

You could. In fact, you wished he’d never brought it up – and that you’d never pushed him on it. “What will you do with Slytherin’s spellbook?” you asked, aiming for a casual tone. Really, you were nervous about his intentions.

Sebastian gave you a playful grin. “What I do with every book – read it! Having professors as parents ingrained that habit early on,” he said lightly. “But I can do that later. For now, I say we explore this room. It’s breathtaking.”

You didn’t feel the same eagerness Sebastian showed – perhaps because he wasn’t the one who had just been tortured. Still, it was a bit shocking to see him so chipper after casting an unforgivable on you mere minutes ago.

“I’ve been getting an uneasy feeling about this place,” Ominis called anxiously up to you both. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s find a way out, please.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I don’t want to leave, but I owe you – both of you,” he said. “Without both of you, we’d never have made it this far.”

“We were lucky – we could have died!” Ominis said seriously. “We must swear never to do this again.”

You saw Sebastian roll his eyes. You picked up a note lying on the desk as you tried to shove down your irritation with the boy.

“I see a way out!” Sebastian announced.

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Ominis replied, breathing a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs.

You all exited through the hidden doorway.

“Ominis, about your aunt–” Sebastian started as he emerged from the wall back into the dungeon corridor.

“Please, Sebastian,” Ominis cut him off. “I meant what I said before. We swear right now never to engage in anything to do with dark magic again!”

“Understood,” Sebastian replied immediately, much to your surprise. “I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis.”

“I suppose, after all this, I am grateful to know what happened to her,” he said quietly. He turned to you. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Sebastian hurried off, probably to go delve into the book. Ominis leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he tried to process the night’s events.

You chewed your lip. “Ominis, I’m so sorry I dragged you down there. I hadn’t imagined we’d end up trapped like that,” you said sincerely.

He pushed off the wall, stepping toward you. “Salazar Slytherin did,” he replied darkly. “He’s to blame for many unimaginable things.”

You felt a new wave of fear at Sebastian having his spellbook.

“I’m just glad we made it out of there,” he continued. “How are you doing? The cruciatus curse is pure torture – I would know.”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young,” you said. “Sounds as if you had no choice.”

Ominis sighed. “Should’ve known he would’ve told you,” he muttered. “And one always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Like I said, unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain, and for that I shall never forgive myself. I will regret casting it forever.”

You flinched as you thought of the pain that had surged through you less than half an hour ago. Sebastian had wanted you to feel it. You couldn’t imagine feeling that way toward him or Ominis, especially now that you knew what it was like.

Warm fingers slipped into your hand, and you looked up to see Ominis’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve insisted we found another way out. Really, I shouldn’t have told Sebastian about the scriptorium in the first place. I am glad to know what happened to my aunt, but…not at your expense.”

You swallow thickly as you stared up at his kind face. “I’m all right, really,” you said.

He arched a brow at you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. “I can feel your hand shaking.”

You realized he was right. Your muscles were twitching with aftershocks from the curse. You suspected they had been since Sebastian’s curse released. You were just so out of sorts that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh,” you said dimly.

Ominis laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s get you some tea and a blanket. You must be freezing,” he said.

You were freezing, you realized. Ominis led you into the Slytherin common room. You just followed him numbly. It was like your body had reacted to the pain by shutting off your senses. Your mind had been overwhelmed. You felt like you were moving through fog now.

Before you knew it, you had a hot cup of tea in your hands and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Ominis rubbed slow circles on your back. His touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping into the recesses of your mind.

“Is this how you felt after?” you asked, turning your glazed eyes toward Ominis.

He stiffened, his hand freezing in place, as his features contorted in a grimace. You could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ominis shook his head. “I expect so,” he said thoughtfully, answering your question. “I would have a tremor and feel a numbing cold. One of our elves tended to me after the first time. My mother locked me in my room, and he brought me tea and tucked me into bed with extra blankets even though she’d instructed them to leave me alone. He…He also knew how it felt.” His jaw tensed. “My family distributes their cruelty quite generously.” He spat out the last sentence like venom.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “I’m sorry you both went through that,” you said.

He just nodded.

“The numbness wears off after a while,” he said as he resumed the languid circles on back. “Then it’s like…your senses are frayed. Everything is just…too much. Noise. Scents. Everywhere is too hot or too cold. Even clothes are…Well, you get the idea.”

His cheeks were coloured pink.

“How long until that starts?” you asked. It sounded dreadful.

“Maybe an hour from now?” he said. He cleared his throat. “I found that a warm bath in a quiet room helps. Not hot but body temperature. It’s almost like floating in nothing. I expect you’d want the room dark, as well, but I really wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, as well. You sipped your tea, and you felt yourself relax slightly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. A shiver ran through you, and you tucked into Ominis’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

He was caught by surprise, but he quickly wrapped his arm around you, holding you tightly to himself. He even rested his head on top of yours.

You stayed like that for a long time. Ominis traced his wand down a schoolbook with the hand not holding you. He checked in every once in a while to make sure you hadn’t run out of tea, casting a charm to refill your cup when needed. Slowly, your tremor subsided and your body warmed. The cold nothingness that had enveloped you was eventually replaced by a sort of static. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew more and more grating. You felt stifled between the fire, blanket, and Ominis’s warm body next to you. You had to set your tea down because it was scalding. Your uniform scratched like sandpaper over every inch of your skin. The crackling of the flames and students speaking in low voices grew louder until the noises pounded in your ears. The dim common room seemed blindingly bright. Even the usually calming scent of Ominis’s cologne was an attack on your senses.

You groaned as you curled into yourself. Ominis scooted away from you, and you felt a pang of guilt at the relief it gave you.

“Let’s get you that bath,” Ominis said quietly as he tucked his book into his bag.

He grabbed your sleeve and tugged you to the lavatory. You cast a charm to block the windows. Only the faintest light filtered through. You sagged against one of the sinks, holding your frazzled head in your hands. Ominis filled a tub with a water-making charm, knowing the rush from the taps would be deafening. He heated the water with another spell, dipping his hand it to ensure it was the right temperature. He even set out a towel for you.

“All set,” he said gently. “I’ll relock the door on my way out so no one disturbs you.”

“Could you…stay?” you asked sheepishly.

You could just make out Ominis’s eyes as they widened. “Oh,” he squeaked. “Erm, yes, I suppose so. Are you sure you want me to?”

“I’d rather not be alone,” you admitted, wincing at your own voice as it seemed to boom out from you. “And, well, it’s not like you can see anything…right?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re correct,” he whispered.

He moved to a window seat on the far wall, and you slipped out of your robes. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, your cheeks flushed as you stood naked in a room with Ominis in it. The cold air was like ice on your skin. You quickly climbed into the bath. It was like applying a balm to a sunburn. You really did feel wrapped in nothing as you were surrounded by water exactly the same temperature as you. You closed your eyes, shutting out the last bit of light.

You felt the tension that had been mounting melt out of your body. The only sensations aside from the cool air on your face were the sound of your own breathing and occasional turn of a page as Ominis read. You couldn’t even hear his breaths from where he sat.

With time, your breathing stopped seeming so loud and you stopped noticing the temperature of the room as much. The water in your tub was exactly as warm as it’d been when you slipped inside. You realized Ominis must’ve charmed it to stay that way. He was quite a talented wizard.

You sat up a bit in the tub, leaning your head back on the edge of it, but you kept your eyes closed. You weren’t ready to take in visual stimuli again just yet. “Ominis?” you asked, pleased when the word didn’t ring in your ears.

“Yes, MC?” he replied quietly.

“Thank you. For helping me. It…it would’ve been awful to go through this alone,” you said.

There was a pause before he answered. “I’m sorry you have to go through it at all.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. “It’s not your fault,” you said. You turned, hooking your elbow over the side of the tub as you faced him. “I’m the one who convinced you to go down there.”

“Yes, but I should’ve known better,” he said sadly. “I just…I was so consumed by the need to know what happened to my aunt. I went against my better judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“Same here. I have no interest in investigating anything to do with Slytherin again,” you replied. “I hope Sebastian meant it when he said he’s done.”

“He’s never lied to me before,” Ominis said confidently. “But…if he does mention anything to you, tell me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. To be honest, you felt like you could tell Ominis anything.

“Good,” Ominis said with a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you said truthfully. “Is there another phase after this?”

Ominis pressed his mouth into a thin line. Even when upset, his features were as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair. “No, but this one tends to linger. You’ll feel on edge for a few days. Maybe a week, even. It tends to last longer the more times you’ve been cursed, so hopefully it’s just a few days for you,” he said, forcing a hopeful smile onto his lips.

You blinked rapidly as a thought struck you. “Did your family curse you multiple times?” you asked, aghast.

He turned his face back toward his book as he schooled his features. “Yes,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Ominis, that’s awful!” you said. You wished you could give him a hug, but as you were naked and sopping wet, it wasn’t exactly an opportune time.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s the Gaunts for you. We specialize in ‘awful.’”

“Not all of you,” you argued. “Not your aunt. Not you.”

“Recent evidence would suggest otherwise,” he said. He hung his head. “Not to mention my past mistakes.”

“But that’s just it. It was a mistake. It doesn’t define you, Ominis,” you insisted. “Do you think the rest of your family would’ve cared enough to help me?”

He scoffed. “Certainly not.”

You just waited, letting him consider the facts for himself.

He sighed as he turned back toward you. “I suppose you have a point.”

You smiled. “I know I do.”

Ominis chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound – if a bit loud at the moment.

You decided you’d soaked long enough and got out of the bath. You cringed as you patted yourself dry. The towel wasn’t quite sandpaper like your clothes had been before, but your skin still felt raw. “How long until clothes feel normal again?” you asked, hoping the answer was soon.

“It all progresses together, so it’ll take a few days,” Ominis said with an apologetic grimace.

You let out a groan. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

He held out his hand. “Here. Give me your clothes.”

You wrapped the towel around yourself before scooping up your uniform and padding over to him. You set the outfit in his open hand.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. Standing so close now, you could see the blush spread over his cheeks.

Your face flushed, too, when you realized you could’ve just levitated the clothes over. You cringed again, but at yourself this time.

Ominis waved his wand as he uttered an unfamiliar incantation. He handed your outfit back to you. It was silky smooth against your skin. It took what was left of your good sense not to drop your scratchy towel and change immediately. You shuffled off to the other side of the room to get dressed.

“That’s so much better!” you gushed once you’d donned the silk ensembled. “Thank you, Ominis.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m happy to help you with anything. I mean, anytime! I’m happy to help anytime.”

As you walked back over to his window seat, you could tell he was still blushing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll help you with anything, too,” you replied.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

You chewed your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you looked down at him. You raised a hand to cup his cheek, and his chin tilted up slightly as his eyes drifted shut. You leaned down, brushing your lips softly against his. In your current state, his lips felt a bit rough but pleasantly warm on yours. Nevertheless, the tender kiss sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Yeah,” you replied.

His tongue flicked out over his lips, and he smirked up at you.

The door rattled as someone tried to enter the locked lavatory. The sudden noise made you jump back.

“Ugh! This is the second time this week!” a muffled but clearly frustrated voice grumbled from the other side.

“Come one, let’s use the one upstairs,” another, much more defeated, voice replied.

“We should probably get moving,” you said, unable to stop the grin that graced your lips.

Ominis chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed.

You both made your way toward the door. Ominis was much more graceful in the dim lighting than you were, and you almost stumbled right into one of the empty tubs. Fortunately, Ominis either didn’t notice or politely pretended not to. He turned to you right in front of the door, his fingers resting on the handle. He shifted nervously between his feet.

“Once you’re feeling like yourself again, would you like to get dinner with me at the Three Broomsticks?” he asked with an endearingly anxious expression.

You beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”

He grinned as he pulled the door open for you. “It’s a date, then.”

Of all the things you’d thought you might find in Slytherin’s Scriptorium, a budding romance hadn’t been one of them. Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

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