seen from South Korea
seen from Yemen
seen from France
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Finland
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from Czechia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
If you’re “anti-proship” and genuinely think AO3 is hosting illegal content, why are you still using it? Because you just have to see your OTP? So “protecting kids” matters… until it means giving up a single fanfic site?
People who use AO3 aren’t bad people. But if you’re going to posture about being morally superior to proshippers, you should probably hold yourself to the same standard.
Don’t like it? Don’t use it.
The Disturbing True Origins of Snow White
I loved this! Most interesting history and origins I've ever read. Fascinating!! I want to know more about Grimm Brothers now and the texts of their tale collection.
This game...man I never thought I'd see a puzzle platformer this dark. And yet this good.
Letting you know now that this one is a bit graphic. And I kind of went off a little longer than I initially intended.
The Reader is a Coven Guard. Due to a highly jealous captain, they are subjected to violence that escalated over time. After taking the Reader on an unauthorized "bonding mission" to apologize for his behavior, he leaves the reader for dead and returns to the castle to report it.
Imagine his and Emperor Belos' surprise when you return to the castle.
Warnings: Violence, Impaling, Injuries
Don't know what Yandere is?
Stop. Do not hit "Keep Reading". Go look up what the term is and, if you think you can handle it, then come back. This has some heavy themes that are not suitable for children or the faint of heart.
You let out a hiss when the nurse touched your injured arm and side. As much as you wanted to hold it in place, you had to let her move it to inspect it.
“Easy, dear,” the elderly witch cooed, bandaging anything she thought may have needed it. “I want to do this as painless as possible but there seems to be a lot of bruising.”
“I-I know,” you inhaled through clenched teeth then tried to force a nervous smile. Before she even asked, you wanted to say something that deterred blame from your superior lest you suffered more when left in his presence next time. “I-I guess I need to watch where I’m going better, huh?”
The elderly witch shot you a stern look as if she knew this wasn’t from some accident.
“Strange how you could have an accident like this when out with one of the most ruthless captains the Coven has to offer on a routine training mission,” she raised a brow. “And to come back days after Captain Gress himself returned?”
“Y-Yeah, strange, huh?” you stuttered. She didn’t seem too enthused.
“Hm.”
You averted your eyes as the woman tended to you, staring off at a far wall in thought. It was becoming more apparent that your superior had been beating on you. Ever since you had joined the Emperor’s Coven, the Captain of the Coven Guard had singled you out.
Captain Gress was a hulking brute by all means. His tenacity was something to behold, but his vicious nature was something… else. It made Warden Wrath look like a tame kitten. Everyone in your platoon, in one form or another, suffered from the captain’s rage when things didn’t go his way or he was chided by Kikimora knowing her words came from Emperor Belos himself.
At first, you thought it was just harmless hazing of a new recruit, however, it didn’t stop after the first couple of weeks. The behavior continued, subtle at first. It would be a hard punch to the upper arm or a shove from behind, but it would escalate from there. Maybe it made you think he was trying to toughen you up. However, you began to notice a pattern whenever he did this. It would happen right after the emperor addressed the guards. If the witch even casually glanced in your direction, the Captain took exception to it.
One of the recent beatings you took gave you a bit more insight into why it was happening. For some god-awful reason, the Captain believed you were getting special treatment from the emperor and he hated it. While it was true you were sought out for certain missions, given to you by Kikimora by order of Emperor Belos, you didn’t exactly see it that way. You were sure you had proven yourself. It was the only way one could enter the Emperor’s Coven, by proving you had something you could offer the emperor. Granted, it did look strange that the missions weren’t given to someone of a higher rank since a lot of them were ones that had you removed from more action-heavy missions. You were no Golden Guard. Did all these violent outbursts really just come down to jealousy?
This time was bad. Very bad. Bad enough to put you in the Healing Coven for… who knows how long. You were sure Captain Gress broke something this time. The only thing was, that the mission you were on wasn’t a routine training mission. It was what the Captain called a “Bonding Mission”, which meant it was just you and him going. No one else. At first, you were hesitant about going with a witch that had been beating you senselessly since you joined, but he had convinced you it was to make up for how he had behaved previously. He sounded sincere enough to convince you to agree, though knowing what you did now, you knew you weren’t meant to come back from the knee. Alive, anyway.
You were led out to the Knee, far from any town or form of civilization. The only living beings around were probably a couple of Slitherbeasts and one-eyed bats. If you had only heeded the sound of a thick branch being ripped off of a nearby tree, you may have faired better and gotten away before it had come to this. The only thought you had at the time when you heard it was that he was gathering kindling for a fire as you set up camp. All you remembered seeing was his shadow. You didn’t even have enough time to turn around.
The attack felt like it went on for an eternity. The captain didn’t use magic at all. He just used brute strength, alternating between the branch and his own limbs. At one point, you did blackout, only to wake up alone and buried under an inch and a half of snow in the middle of a storm. Your body was numb from the cold but didn’t mind reminding you of the horrors you endured when you moved wrong. Somehow, someway, you made it to one of the closest towns. You didn’t exactly remember how, but you did it. From there, some kind denizens took you in, bandaged you up, and returned you to the castle.
The look on the Captain’s face when you arrived was hidden by his mask, but you were sure he was horrified. It sounded as if he was regaling some of the other guards about how he “tried to save you” after a horrible encounter with a Slitherbeast but he couldn’t as you and the beast had perished… somehow… and had to report your death to Emperor Belos himself. You weren’t able to catch the details and whoever you spoke to kept changing the story, or at least, Captain Gress had been. You got the gist that the only reason he didn’t use magic was to make it look less like a deliberate attack and more like an accidental death by a beast or whatever.
However, though you knew he had just tried to kill you, you weren’t sure who would believe you. Oh, the other guards definitely would have known how ruthless their captain was, but it wouldn’t have done anything. To save their own skins, they would turn a blind eye to it. For anyone higher than him, it was your word against a decorated captain, so you just went with whatever he told the others in a bid to keep him from coming after you in this condition. You wouldn’t survive another attack now. Only someone above the captain had to take action if they wanted to stop it from happening.
So far, the census is that “you fell” off a cliff while getting away from the beast. Again, like the rest of the story, a lot of it was lost in translation like a sick game of telephone.
Sudden pain in your arm drew you out of your thought process and made you scream loud enough to echo off the walls.
“Oh! I’m so sorry dear! Looks like your arm really is broken. As well as several of your ribs and the opposite hip is out of place, and-” the Healing Coven witch sighed in frustration. “A lot more, I’m afraid. This is going to take a lot of magic to heal. It looks like you aren’t going to be moving for a while. You may not be able to return to your duties as a Coven Guard when you do heal though.”
You stared at the woman in horror.
“What?! No!” you gasped and tried to sit up, which caused you to scream again in pain. The elderly woman threw her hands out to stop you.
“Don’t! You’ll make it worse!”
“I can’t-! No! I can’t lose my position-!” you pleaded, tears welling in your eyes from the immense pain that surged through your body. “I worked so hard to get here-!”
“I know but-!”
“Your position is secured,” a soft, prim voice chirped from across the room. Glancing up, you were greeted by the small stature of the demon, Kikimora. Emperor Belos’ assistant. She crossed the room with her hands behind her back, her eyes locked on you. “The Emperor is relieved that you have been returned safe, Y/N. As is Captain Gress. An investigation has been launched to find the beast that attacked you and execute it.”
“An investigation?” you breathed, staring down at the assistant.
“Of course. It is absolute treason against the emperor to attack a Coven guard,” she said, matter-of-factly. Your heart was somewhere between racing and falling into the pit of your stomach. On one hand, the captain would be found out for all the abuse he had put you and countless other guards though with attempted murder being his final nail the the coffin. On the other, he could snap and come to end you sooner, afraid that you’d spill everything despite evidence pointing at him regardless of your testimony, especially if execution was on the line. On the other other hand, he could try to use his past service to get a lighter sentence. “Emperor Belos will be along momentarily.”
Your eyes widened and body tensed up, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Say what now?!”
“The emperor? Here?” the elderly healer gasped excitedly.
“Yes. He wants a word with our survivor,” Kikimora motioned toward you.
“W-Why?” you forced out.
“Why? Well, why not? You survived such a horrific ordeal. This is an extraordinary situation that he personally wishes to handle it himself.”
Biting your lip, you turned your attention to the sheets balled up in your fists. You were torn. Would the emperor believe you if you straight up told him that it was Captain Gress who attacked you without evidence? Or were you better off keeping to the story in case the evidence wasn’t strong enough to convict Gress of anything and leave you opened to more possible torment that could lead to your death?
The sound of heavier footsteps entering the room made everyone look up to see the tall, intimidating figure of Emperor Belos in the doorway. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his gaze settled on you. Upon seeing him, the healer immediately kneeled with her head down. You would have done the same if given the chance but… yeah.
“Sire!” Kikimora started, rushing up to meet him. “The guard is awake and alert enough to-”
“Everyone leave. Now,” his annoyed voice echoed from behind his mask as he strode forward. “I wish to speak with them alone.”
The elderly witch and the assistant exchanged glances and the elderly witch bowed and followed orders. Before she left, she subtly motioned to your side and made a circle on her own while making eye contact with him, silently instructing him without your knowledge. Kikimora, however, tried to interject but was given a cold glare which caused her to backtrack and obey.
When the room was finally cleared, you turned your attention to the towering figure that was standing near your bed and you quickly averted your gaze. Now you were alone with him.
“I have heard several stories so far about what has happened to you, Y/N,” his voice softened. “Yet none of them make any sense. First, I’m told by your superior that you were killed on an unauthorized training mission to the Knee. Days later, you appear here badly injured but alive after a full scale search was initiated to find your body. Now I am told that you had survived a run in with a vicious beast with various iterations of what had actually transpired out there in such a remote area.”
The sound of the chair nearby being pulled up beside the bed followed by it creaking indicating that the witch had sat down made you flinch but you refused to make eye contact with him.
“I don’t…” you started but your voice failed you half way through and the rest was just air.
“I would like to hear it again. This time, from you. How did this happen?”
You tensed up to the point of pain, earning him a hiss. It was enough for you to clench your arm to your side.
“I don’t know-” you tried again, accidentally glancing at him but then immediately snapped your attention away from him. That blue stare against the black sockets was unnerving. “I can’t remember much…”
The emperor fell quiet a moment, noting your reaction. He let out a hum and the soft clatter of metal against the wood of the table next to you made you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.
“I agree, the mask tends to add a bit of intimidation. Is this better?” he spoke softly, giving you the gentlest of smiles. Your eyes slowly widened as you turned your head to him. He let out a warm chuckle. “I take that as a yes.” Belos grabbed each side of his chair and lifted up slightly just to pull it closer to the bed. “I would like you to tell me what happened when you were on this “Bonding Mission” with Captain Gress.”
It took you a moment to gather your thoughts. Your mind was still drinking in what Belos really looked like under his mask. His brilliant blue eyes had dark circles under them, as if he had gone a few nights without any sleep. Your eyes swept over the green scar across his face as you thought back to hearing the tales of wild magic destroying his family and harming him. His long, blondish gray hair hung loosely over his shoulders, something you did not see coming. When picturing what Emperor Belos actually looked like, you weren’t expecting long hair.
With another soft chuckle and his smile widening slightly, Belos waved a hand in front of your face to snap you out of your stare, causing you to jump and look away quickly, somewhat embarrassed for staring.
“I-I’m sorry…It’s just-”
“No one has seen my face before, I know. However, I believe this needs to be an exception,” he moved a finger to his lips with a wink. “So let’s just keep this our little secret.”
You found yourself nodding immediately.
“Of c-course, Sire! I shan’t breathe a word of it!”
“Excellent! Now, I would like you to do as I asked and tell me what happened. Who did this?” he leaned closer, his arms folded on the edge of the bed. His eyes bored into you, causing you to take great interest in the blanket and sheets covering you. After a calming inhale, you parroted what the other guards have been told by Captain Gress, leaving some of the details vague by saying you blacked out at some point and only woke up at the bottom of an embankment before finding your way back to the nearest town. Once you were finished, Belos scoffed. “Is that so?”
Steeling yourself, you nodded. You could imagine the look on his face being skeptical. Honestly, you didn’t expect anyone to buy it. There were too many inconsistencies and holes you could pick out. But hey, no one said Captain Gress was the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to lying.
An awkward silence fell between the two of you before Belos let out a sigh.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”
“Resort to… what?” you side-glanced him.
“Excuse me.”
Upon hearing this, you assumed the emperor would have stood to leave. Instead, he grabbed the side of your blanket and lifted it just enough to see your bare, injured side, causing you to gasp and try to pull the blanket out of his tight grip out of instinct. He refused to let go.
“What are you-?!”
“It’ll only be a moment,” he muttered. What you hadn’t realized was the bruised area over your ribs that hadn’t been wrapped was in the perfect shape of a boot print. The cold metal of his gauntlet touching it made you jump and yelp in surprise then moan in pain from jerking in a way that really hurt. “Sorry… Can’t be helped.”
A flurry of confusing emotions soared through you. Your face felt so hot, you began to feel dizzy. Was this actually happening or were you still laying in the freezing snow, suffering from hypothermia? You sobered up immediately when Belos’ glowing blue eyes shifted to you and narrowed, causing you to look away to try to process what was going on. He exhaled hard but kept his composure as he covered your side back up.
“Hm. If the recent survey the scouts did of the area where your camp was found is correct, there shouldn’t have been any embankments that caused you to fall as you said you did,” he hummed. “Nothing deep enough to do this sort of damage was found and there wasn’t any indication you wandered anywhere away from the camp besides the main trail. Are you certain that you only “fell”?”
Chills rushed up your spine. So there was evidence at the scene, but how strong was it? Could Captain Gress explain it away somehow? Your fists tightened on the sheets and began to tremble as you turned your head away, missing the slight eye twitch the witch gave as he stared down at them. You opted to play it safe.
“I-I… must have been a lot clumsier th-than I realized…”
“This looks like someone stomped on you.”
Your shoulders flinched upward slightly as a vivid memory of the Gress stomping down on you before you lost consciousness was shoved front and center. Silence fell but you could still feel the witch’s stare on you. The seat groaned, indicating that he had gotten up.
“... I see. Well, then I’ll have no choice but to remove you from Captain Gress’ command until the investigation is complete.”
“W-What?” you snapped your head in his direction.
“You will be moved to the main part of the castle to continue your healing by the hands of the Head of the Healing Coven. It will… also be for your own protection in the case that what you’ve told me isn’t what actually happened.”
The cornflower blue gaze was stained with disappointment, making you feel guilty over the fact that you had blatantly lied to him. A shred of it made you feel like he would have believed you if you told him but again, would he? Captain Gress was one of his most loyal, most ruthless followers, someone who would be extremely valuable to a leader. Would he throw that away over what had happened to you? You were almost convinced he would not.
“I will make preparations for your move and have security abominations stationed outside your door at all times.”
“Abominations?” you murmured.
“Considering there is an investigation going on, no one living will be allowed near you unless given clearance by myself. Abominations will have an easier time obeying my orders than any scout or guard that can be intimidated,” Belos explained as he placed his mask on his face and stood before making his way toward the door. “I assure you, your safety is of the utmost importance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some scouts I have to meet.”
Then, the day came. The day you had been anticipating ever since you returned to the castle. Judgment. It took place in the throne room and consisted of Emperor Belos in full garb, Kikimora, all nine coven heads, Lilith, Captain Gress, several other captains, and you. Your body was still in a deteriorated state so you had to be wheeled in by an abomination posing as a makeshift wheelchair. You were placed at Belos’ right hand. The head of the Healing Coven stood by you, casting a bright blue aura over you to keep you as pain-free as possible so you could focus.
Captain Gress was already kneeling with his head down low and propping himself up by a fist.
Once everyone was present, Kikimora read off the charges as well as presented evidence of Gress’ guilt of his crime of assault and treason.
“Your plea?” Kikimora glanced up from her scroll.
“... … … Guilty…” the accused grunted.
“You do understand that a guilty plea carries the sentence of execution?” Kikimora narrowed her eyes at the captain.
“I am aware. Though I would like to remind the emperor of my decades of dedicated service and loyalty,” Gress lifted his head to look Belos in the eye. “And hope that it may be taken into consideration for a pardon from execution and show of mercy-”
This got a chuckle from a handful of the coven heads.
“As if,” you heard the Abomination coven head scoff under his breath. His tone was accompanied by an eye roll.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Belos leaned his head against his fist, catching Gress off guard with his bluntness. “Attacking one of my guards entrusted to you and lying about it? How do I expect them to trust you if I can’t trust you to do what is expected?”
Silence followed before the captain spoke up.
“I am appalled at my behavior. I assure you, it will not happen again, your highness.”
Your fists clenched against your legs and it didn’t go unnoticed. Belos stared down at them out of his peripherals. You couldn’t help but glare at the man before you. Tears of rage streaked silently down your face, unable to be held back anymore. Not only was he trying to use his rank to lessen his sentence but he was doing everything he did to get you to trust him. It was the same excuse he gave you before going out on the trip, in the same tone that made you fall for it. This witch was the reason you couldn’t go back to being a guard any time soon. Belos suddenly standing and stepping forward made you flinch. His voice dropped to a dangerous tone, one dripping with venom.
“You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
What happened next would give you nightmares for the rest of your life. Where you had believed that if found guilty, Gress would be turned to stone like how wild witches were. Instead, when Belos waved his hand, several dark red spikes shot out from the ground under Captain Gress, impaling him in several different places. You let out a startled scream which you tried to stifle with your good hand. Your scream was added to the collection of gasps, grunts, and yelps of the people around you. The manner of execution and how quickly it was done seemed to shock everyone in the room. Even Kikimora stared in horror, both hands crossed over where her mouth would be, at the state of the body. This wasn’t a normal execution. This felt… personal for the emperor.
One of the spikes pierced through the left side of his chest. A handful of others through his stomach at different angles. His feet were raised a couple of feet off the ground from the force. His hands grabbed onto the spikes and tried to push himself off one spike only to be impaled by another. The more he struggled, the more blood dripped down each spike. His whimpers and groans echoed off the walls. The final spike came from behind and pierced through the darkness under Gress’ hood and mask. Moments later, his limbs went limp at his side.
“Go. Tell those in high positions what you’ve seen here today,” Emperor Belos turned to his small audience. “Treasonous behavior will not be tolerated among the ranks. Our guards and scouts are to be treated with respect. This is not to happen again.”
You stared at the dangling body, reminded of the line one of the senior guards had told you when you first started. “The Emperor is not a merciful man”. All this time you were afraid that he would let Gress live due to his decorated past yet Belos held true to that title.
No one said a word. One by one, the coven heads departed and you felt your chair moving away from the scene.
Once outside, a conversation perked your ears.
“That was horrible…” the Illusion coven head groaned. “Hmph. What did you expect? The witch did the one thing that would have resulted in immediate execution,” the Abomination coven head scoffed. “Lied about it too to cover his tracks. I would be furious too if I found out that a superior was beating on one of my most prized guards.”
“Prized guards?...” you murmured under your breath. You knew you were good, just not that good.
“Are they that good?”
“Must be if Belos kept singling them out to represent his coven each time. Besides, did you see how he reacted to being told that Y/N had been killed on a “Bonding Mission”? He was beside himself. I thought he would have killed Gress right there just for delivering the news.”
You stared off as you were wheeled off toward your room. It was true that a lot of your missions were for face value. Rarely were you ever put in a dangerous position. It was a bit irritating in a way, not seeing action despite being one of the stronger witches in the Emperor’s Coven.
“Here we are!” the head of the Healing coven chirped. When you glanced up, you found yourself back in your room. You muttered a thanks but a voice rang out that stopped the coven head from helping you out of your chair and onto a softer surface. Your head snapped in the direction of the voice to see Emperor Belos standing at the window with hair down, indicating his mask had been removed and his arms folded behind his back. You had to double take. You were sure he wasn’t there when you entered.
“Don’t move them,” Emperor Belos turned his head slightly. “Leave us.”
“O-Oh! Of course, Emperor Belos!” the witch gasped then scurried out of the room. When the door shut, you felt your heart fall into the pit of your stomach.
“You lied to me,” Belos murmured softly, causing you to bow your head. “I asked you to tell me who did this so I could handle it.”
“I-I know. I’m sorry. I… didn’t-”
“You were afraid of the consequences if Gress got off lightly, hm?”
Hesitatingly, you nodded.
“I wasn’t sure who I could trust…”
A hand cupped your chin and raised it to meet the emperor’s hardened gaze. You didn’t even hear him move away from the window.
“I have a good mind to remove you from the Emperor’s Coven entirely for that…” he growled. Your eyes widened.
“Sire, please-”
His gaze softened, as did his voice.
“But I do understand. You had no allies supporting you in this, did you? I can hardly blame you for following the crowd.”
A wave of relief crashed over you and you sighed.
“Thank you-”
“Did you enjoy your revenge?”
“W-What?”
“Did you enjoy seeing the witch who hurt you over and over again get impaled as many times as it took to end him?”
You stared up at the man in disbelief at what you were being asked. He wore a slight smirk with a wild look in his eyes as he spoke. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he took some sort of sick pleasure out of this.
“R-Revenge? I-I thought he was going t-to be petrified-”
“He deserved to suffer more for what he did to you and for lying on top of it. And to believe I would let him live after finding everything out that contradicted his testimony, the gall…”
The hand on your chin moved to your cheek as his gaze turned into a tired one.
“You do not know how much stress and hurt he caused by doing that. When I heard of your death, I nearly went mad.”
All you could do was listen to him as you tried to figure out why you, of all people. The way he was going on about it made it seem like he was… You shook that thought out of your head. He was not in love with you. You were just some Coven guard. He may have favored you for… whatever reason, but…
“For that, I’ve decided that you won’t be going back to work as a Coven guard. I will not have this happen again,” was the point where you pulled out of your thoughts. Panic filled your chest.
“Emperor Belos-!” you tried to plea but he put his free hand up.
“Lilith Clawthorne will take your place. She will become the actual face of the coven and take over the missions I gave you. Your position as a coven guard is too dangerous. I can’t allow another superior to do what Gress did. I’ll find a new position for you within the castle that will keep you closer to me once you are healed. Do not fret, I will see to it that no one will lay a hand on you again without answering to me.”
This… was a lot to take in. You were the face of the Coven? Even if you wore a mask and hood? Those missions were given to you on purpose to keep you out of harms way? What did he mean “closer to him”? Your head spun with these revelations and questions.
Movement made you look up to see Belos kneeling before your chair.
“All I ask is that you report anyone who does hurt you to me without delay. I have earned that trust, haven’t I?”
You opened your mouth to speak but your voice failed you, resulting in a nod instead. A smile graced his face and his chuckle returned.
“Good. You will never understand how important that is to me,” he stood and walked around your chair to take the handles. You felt yourself being wheeled around toward the door. “Now, how about we go for a walk around the castle? Maybe getting to better know one another will help me find the best place for you…”
“O-Okay…”
I LOVE the remus x narcissa story and am so curious about the darker subtext stuff you mentioned. I think I got a good idea, but would you mind elucidating on some of subtext? It's such a lovely, poetic but nuanced and complex story that I don't want to miss anything. Remus & Sirius were lovers, right? There was r*pe implied. Narcissa was a double agent? Were we supposed to know how Narcissa ended up with a bloody arm?
CW: brief discussion of Death Eater violence
So! This is great. I’m sorry if Asylum Seekers was a frustrating read for anyone. I know the spare prose stuff can be a little less satisfying for some people, and clearly I don’t always hit my marks LOL. 😑
1)It’s intentionally ambiguous about Remus x Sirius. I think when you love someone who’s the opposite sex, socially and culturally it’s an easier leap to be like, this is romantic love. I want to have sex with you. The current is really at your back on that one. But what if you feel an intense bond with and magnetic attraction to someone of the same sex, and it’s not clear that it’s sexual? Or not sexual? It’s not just sexual orientation, it’s this complicated question about the nature of love and attraction, and how I think you can really passionately want to be with someone, like, all the time, but that’s not always a sex thing. I see Remus and Sirius in this story occupying that zone.
2)Answer about sexual dynamics under the cut.
3)Narcissa turns for the Order and spies for them. I wouldn’t call her a double agent; I view her role in the Death Eaters as being very passive and sort of ornamental. She hosts parties. She keeps everyone fed. She makes the Manor look nice. She, herself, is expected to look nice, and eventually to have nice-looking Pureblood children with slick hair and pointy chins.
4)Bloody arm is intentionally ambiguous. In canon Voldemort kills and tortures Muggles and blood traitors, and it’s implied that he takes pleasure in it. Personally, I think no way the Manor isn’t a literal horror show in the 70s. None of it is her blood.
CW under the cut: discussion of psychosexual exploitation in cults
2)Hello. Welcome to today’s episode of Overthinking It with PacificRimbaud.
If I start thinking about a fully fleshed universe with Voldemort that includes adult elements, I think about the way that sexuality is used as a tool for social control within cults. My understanding is that it’s very common for cults to expect/demand sexual availability, specifically from women. Tom is the “Dark Lord,” the Death Eaters seem pretty excited to serve him and be viewed as a favorite, etc. etc. A case could be made for him fracturing and warping himself so much he doesn’t care about sex any more, but I think he would, or at least he would understand its value as a tool for control. Narcissa is probably a true believer at first. But in this little story, she’s experienced some kind of event (or more likely an escalating series of events) so traumatic that she goes running to her estranged sister in the middle of the night. And after that, I can’t imagine she’s opening her bedroom door for Tom or Dolohov or Nott or whoever for any purpose beyond self-protection, influence and information gathering. Her sexual relationship with Remus is one of passion, comfort, and safety—and very quickly, love—which is both beautiful and very sad. There’s a ton of real world information about this topic that’s frankly really upsetting, so this is definitely my last comment on this, and probably my best explanation for why I wouldn’t write a fully-fleshed dark fic. I can promise that no one wants my version of all that.
Gone - Part Six
Present
Everything was fuzzy around the edges. Castiel was groggy, his head pounding, his body aching. He could hear talking, but it sounded distant, far away. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't. It was all too much. His fingers felt heavy and his hand stung.
“Really? Fuck, yeah give me a second. Uh huh. Yeah. Wait, slow down. Uh huh. Demon blood? Like, from Hell? Shit. No, it’s no smack. You’re right about that.”
Dean?
Castiel forced open his heavy lids to look for Dean. They were in a hospital, he gathered from the beeping machines, wires, and tubes sticking out of his skin. Dean looked like hell. He was wearing a gray t-shirt with a pair of jeans. Only one of his boots was laced. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and talking into his phone urgently, his other hand tapping a pen against a notepad as he tried to scribble down whatever was being said to him over the phone. He seemed so far away, somewhere stuck in the haze.
He dropped his hand from his face and his eyes flickered, meeting Castiel’s. A small smile tugged at Dean’s mouth and he whispered, “Gotta call you back.” He hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Gave us quite the scare back there.”
“What happened?” Castiel asked, his voice hoarse, raw, and quiet.
Dean’s smile faded from his face, and he walked to Cas sitting on the edge of the bed he took Cas’ hand in his and smiled weakly. “You had a seizure, man.”
“What?”
“It's a side effect of withdrawal. You must’ve got something when you went into work… I don’t think I wanted to believe it, but you were fucked up, Cas. When you left you were fucked up, and I wanted to believe it was something else. It was the circumstances, you hadn’t eaten enough… whatever. You went into the morgue to look for evidence and you were doing drugs.” Dean’s eyes flickered away, hurt.
Castiel’s chest cracked open. “It’s not like that,” he choked out.
“I want to believe you, buddy. I really do.”
“Think I’m fallin’ for you, Cas.”
Castiel touched his head, wincing as the missing time bounced around inside of his skull. “Then believe me.”
“Can’t. It’s bigger than just my feelings here. You’ve gotta know that. You’re not safe like this.”
He stood up, and Castiel grabbed for him, catching the edge of his shirt in his fist. “Don’t leave Dean.” He couldn’t be alone, and he knew in his gut if Dean walked out that door he would never see him again. “Please don’t leave me.”
“It ain’t about leaving you, Cas. I don’t want to leave you. I have to.” He pried Castiel’s fingers from his shirt. “I’ve got a lead to follow. I’ll visit you later, okay?”
Take me with you, he wanted to say. He wanted to cry, to beg, to scream, but he didn’t. He just nodded, his fingers twisted in his sheets, as he watched Dean grab his coat and notepad before walking out the door.
Before
Dean
Cas stumbled out of the building, looking pale as hell, which was saying something considering how pale he always looked. “Hey,” Dean said, hopping out of the car. He jogged to meet Cas, who just about fell into his arms. “You good?”
“‘M good,” Cas mumbled against his shoulder.
“Let’s get you into the car.” Dean helped him into the passenger seat clasping the buckle. Castiel turned to him with heavy lidded eyes. “I don’t have any answers, Dean.”
“It’s okay, buddy,” Dean said softly. “Was a long shot anyway.”
“Long shot,” he repeated.
“You feelin’ okay?” Dean asked again, looking at him intently.
Cas nodded slowly. “I’m just a little dizzy.”
“You haven’t eaten anything today but coffee.” He offered Cas a supportive smile. “Let’s try lunch.”
“Lunch,” Cas repeated quietly.
Dean nodded to him before closing the door and walking around to get into the driver's seat. It was no secret that Castiel Novak was a little off. He knew that the moment he saw him. It made him interesting though. He was complex. He was a 50 year old scotch. There were some things in life that were just worth it, but more than anything, he believed Dean. Cas believed him when no one else did, and that meant something to him. So even though Cas didn’t seem okay, Dean started the car and backed out of the driveway anyway.
In Dean’s world, food and beer could fix anything. Any wrong doing could be erased by a cheeseburger with extra bacon. He was a simple man, but there were worse things to be. He wasn’t a fool, he knew things weren’t good. He knew it was going to be that simple, but he at least had to try. So he drove to his favorite dive bar, The Roadhouse, the one that had the best burgers in town, hands down.
“Where are we?” Cas asked, squinting out the window. He looked a little better already, Dean thought. Maybe it wasn’t being stuck in the morgue for an hour under screaming fluorescents. He needed some sunlight. Did the body good.
“Food,” Dean said with a soft smile. “We’re getting burgers.”
Cas made a face like he didn’t like that idea, his eyebrows coming together and his lips turning up in distaste.
Dean laughed in response, the chuckle bubbling up in his stomach, tugging his mouth into a smile. “Don’t give me that dirty diaper look. Sammy does the same thing.”
“Sammy?”
“Maybe after a beer or two,” Dean said with a soft compromise. He opened the door and got out of the car, heading inside. He grabbed a high-top at the back of the bar and settled in on the stool. He handed Cas a menu that was tucked behind the condiments against the wall. “You can look, but the best thing is the bacon cheeseburger hands down.”
Castiel stared at the menu, his eyebrows knitted, his blue eyes seeming to glow against his pale skin. “I don’t usually have cheeseburgers.”
“Please tell me you aren’t a salad guy,” Dean said, deadpanned. That could be a deal breaker. Dean was what he liked to call a meat man . He didn’t eat rabbit food. No dice.
“I often forget to eat,” Cas admitted almost shyly, and he was so damn cute with his shaggy hair and big blue eyes that it made Dean’s stomach flip.
“Shouldn’t do that, Cas.”
“I know.”
Dean wasn’t sure he believed him.
The waitress came over to them, her blonde curls falling down her back, and her jeans resting low on her hips. “What can I get you boys?”
“Jo,” he grinned.
“Dean,” she said back, unimpressed.
He shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Two of the regular.”
“And what about for blue eyes over here?” She asked teasingly, her eyes challenging.
“Ha-ha.”
Jo grinned back at him before sliding the menus off the table. “That’ll be right up, boys.”
They were just about the only customers in The Roadhouse, except for an old drunk drowning in his whiskey, slumped on the stool, and a woman focused on her crossword puzzle on the other side of the bartop. “Want to talk about what happened?”
“Nothing to tell,” Cas said absentmindedly as he picked at the peeling edge of the coaster in front of him.
“You were gone for almost an hour.”
“It was my boss,” he confessed. “She caught me rifling through my desk.”
“Shit,” Dean said, leaning forward. “Is everything okay? You in trouble?”
Cas was quiet for a moment, those eyebrows back together, his forehead wrinkling. “No. She just seemed worried about me. She really wants me to take time off.”
Relief flooded his chest as Dean let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. Thank fucking god.
“That’s good, Cas. that’s real fucking good.”
Jo came over with a couple of pint glasses, placing one in front of both of the men along with a bottle of ketchup between them. “Thanks,” Dean said as he grabbed his glass. He pressed his lips to the edge and took a satisfying sip. The hops bit at the back of his tongue and he hummed at the satisfying pine flavor that tingled his taste buds. “The best,” he mused. “Try it.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be drinking…”
“You’ve gotta get out more, Cas,” Dean laughed, sliding Castiel his beer.
“This isn’t exactly the time for pleasantries, Dean,” Cas said dryly, but he took the beer anyway. Watching Cas’ face as he sipped the beer, his lips turning downward in a frown made Dean a little giddy inside.
“Yeah, we’ve gotta work, but we’ve gotta eat, too. And you’ve gotta relax. You look a little wound up.”
“I take offense to that.”
“You shouldn’t.” Dean snorted with a smirk. “Just means I’m going to have to unwind you.”
Cas looked up at Dean from over his glass, his eyes challenging. “I look forward to seeing you try.” He seemed better even still. Maybe it was being away from all of the chemicals, or maybe it was just he and Dean being together that made Cas relax just a hitch.
“Buddy you’ve got a deal.”
Present
Dean
Walking away from Cas in the hospital was one of the hardest things that Dean ever had to do, but he had to do it. He had a lead on the drug that Meg had in her system. Demon Blood was what they were calling it. It was dangerous and secret. It was a miracle that he got tipped off on it in the first place.
He walked to his car, the Impala parked under a tree on the side of the parking lot. There was still so much that he didn’t know. He was so preoccupied, wrapped up and twisted inside of his own thoughts that he almost missed the paper stuck under his wiper on his windshield.
He reached forward, plucking the folded page. He leaned against the car and unfolded it carefully. It didn’t seem like a parking ticket, and he knew all about those. It was handwritten in red, messy scrawl on printer paper.
Let it go, or let go of Sammy.
He read the line about a thousand times before his stomach twisted in on itself. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. He had to go see his brother.
Dean got in the car and turned the radio up to block out his thoughts, his fears that were bouncing around inside of his skull. He hadn’t told Cas, fuck he hadn’t told anyone where Sammy was. What had happened to his brother after Sam’s fiancee died in that fire. He’d gone off the deep end. It started slow, drinking and pot. He wanted to be fucked up and stay fucked up so he wouldn’t have to face the reality of everything. It just about killed Dean watching his brother disappear in front of him. He wanted to give his little brother the space he needed, but the space almost ruined everything. He’d found Sammy in the bathtub, the shower running, and a needle still stuck in his arm. His lips were blue.
The Winchester brothers had tumbled to rock bottom together, as they’d done everything together.
Sam was in a rehab facility up state, and Dean hadn’t gotten up the nerve to go and see him. He couldn’t look his brother in the face without so much regret that he thought he’d be sick. He couldn’t get the image of his tall, strong brother looking so goddamn small, soaking wet, and dead in front of him. He called 911 and did chest compressions until the ambulance arrived. He pushed and pushed on his brother’s chest until his arms screamed out in pain, and then he pushed again. He’d never forget the sound and feeling of his brother's chest cracking under the pressure of his hands.
Sam had been in rehab for six months, and the closer Dean got to the facility the more his stomach twisted. He felt sick and anxious. Especially since his denial had allowed the same shit to happen to Cas, right under his nose. He knew better. He just didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to have to say goodbye again. It was too damn hard.
But he guessed that he didn’t have much of a choice anymore, especially with the threat scribbled on a piece of paper curled in his fist and pressed against the steering wheel. If Sammy was getting threatened that meant that Dean and Cas were closing in on the answer. He couldn’t let anything happen to his brother, but he couldn’t let this go either. It was too damn fragile. Two were dead already, maybe more. Dean was a detective, an officer of the law. He couldn’t just sit on it. It wasn’t in him.
He pulled up to the facility and parked out front. Rows of dead flowers were stark against the white, clinical exterior of the building. Part of him desperately wanted to turn back, to tuck tail and run, but he was so close to Sammy that he felt the pull in his chest. He missed his baby brother. He missed Sam more than his own fear that pulled at him. More than anything.
Dean pressed the red button by the front door, a ringing sound coming through the speaker. “Can I help you?” A female voice purred through the static.
“Here to see Sam Winchester. Uh, I’m visiting,” he said awkwardly, leaning into the speaker like an idiot.
“Come on in,” she said, before a buzzing sound erupted, the lock on the door audibly clicking.
He opened the door and stepped into the lobby. It smelled clean like Clorox and over-sprayed Febreeze. Cotton fresh my ass, Dean thought grumpily. He scribbled his name on the check-in sheet and headed straight to Sam’s room. After four months of sobriety Sam got a more relaxed schedule. He had to go to group twice a day, therapies, exercise, but other than that he could go where he pleased within the facility. Dean just hoped that Sam was napping instead of off swimming or playing tennis or whatever the fuck they did for fun around there.
He stood in front of Sam’s door, his fist hovering, preparing to knock, but he couldn’t find the strength. He couldn’t shake the image of Sam’s blue lips from his mind. He closed his eyes and counted to three. He had to man up. There were bigger things at work than this. Than his own fear. He had to--
“Dean?”
He hadn’t heard the door open. He was too wrapped up in his own mind. His eyes focused on his brother, three inches taller than him, his hair combed back, and his cheeks pink. He looked good. He looked healthy and strong. “Sammy,” Dean said with an exhale. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I just…” He didn’t know how much he should disclose. He didn’t know what was safe… but looking at his brother, his best friend, it was hard not to just immediately spill everything. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up immediately, probably reading Dean like a book. “Sure. Let’s go to the gardens.”
The Winchester brothers walked side by side in a comfortable silence. There was so much to say, but no words to say it. The gardens turned out to be a hedge maze that went about to Dean’s shoulders. He followed Sam silently through two rights and a left before settling into the center of the maze. There was a large fountain in the center that had no water in it, drained for the cold weather, surrounded by benches. A chill ran up his spine in response to the eeriness surrounding the cold stones and moss covered angel statue in the center.
Sam took a seat on one of the benches. The entire maze seemed to be empty, void of sound apart from the breeze dancing through the hedges. Sam rested his arms on his thighs and clasped his hands together. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for months,” Sam admitted. His eyebrows were together, furrowed, concerned.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I hate you!” Sam screamed as Dean walked away, buzzing out of the facility.
“I blame me,” Dean said, his eyes meeting his brothers. He lowered himself onto the stone edge of the fountain across from his brother.
“I wanted to thank you. For saving my life and for getting me into this program.”
“Don’t have to thank me, Sammy.”
“Sure I do. You could’ve given up and left me for dead. You didn’t. That means something. I also wanted to say I’m sorry…”
“Stop.” Dean put up his hand. He couldn’t take it. Not when there was a killer on the loose. It was too much. There was only so much a man could take, afterall.
“Dean just let me apologize. It’s a part of my recovery to make amends.”
“Sam that isn’t why I’m here,” Dean said seriously, not trying to scare him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been working this case,” he said, his voice hushed. “A woman was killed. It looked like an overdose, but I think she was murdered.”
Sam frowned a little deeper, wringing his hands.
Maybe Dean shouldn’t have mentioned it. It couldn’t be good for Sam’s recovery. He sucked in his breath, looking at his baby brother. “I think it’s connected with a new street drug… they’re calling it Demon Blood.” A look of recognition flashed across Sam’s face, which made Dean sit up a little straighter. “You’ve heard of it?”
“Who was the girl?” Sam asked tightly. “Can you tell me that?”
Dean eyed his brother suspiciously, but he folded quickly at the softness of his brothers expression, the wetness along his eyes, and all the pain that accompanied it. “Her name was Meg Masters.”
All of the color drained from Sam’s face almost immediately. He looked ill. “Fuck I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered, covering his mouth.
“Deep breaths, hey, Sam? Look at me,” Dean instructed, and his brother followed suit. Dean held his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “What’s going on? Did you know her?”
Sam nodded slowly, and he let his little brother get his composure before squeezing his shoulders supportively as if he was saying it’s okay, I’m here. You can tell me. “She was a resident here. A friend. She left a month ago… but Dean she was clean. She worked the program hard. She didn’t want… she didn’t want to use anymore.” Pain flashed across Sam’s face again and Dean wasn’t sure if it was from the loss of a friend, or from the knowledge that he could backslide hard. Rock bottom wasn’t always something that a guy can come back from.
“I’m not too convinced that she was using.” His eyes locked on Sam. If they knew each other then Sam could be in danger anyway, even without his connection to Dean. He may already be connected to the case. “Do you know if she had any enemies? Anyone that would want to hurt her?”
Sam shook his head and took a few deep breaths. “There was this woman who visited her a lot, she had long dark hair… she was short, hell almost a foot shorter than me. Their relationship seemed intense. Meg was always quiet when she left.”
“Do you know her name?”
Sam squinted at his hands, deep in thought. “Don’t know a last name, but I’m pretty sure her name was Ruby.”
No. Dean stood up, digging around his pockets for his phone. No no no.
“What’s going on? Dean?”
It couldn’t be! It had to be a coincidence. His hands shook as he brought up some photos that he’d taken at the department Christmas party. “Sammy, is this Ruby?” He asked, handing his brother the phone as he lowered himself back into a seated position. “Do any of those women look familiar.”
Sam nodded slowly as he examined the picture. “Yeah, that’s Ruby… and I’ve seen that other woman as well,” he said, pointing to the background. Dean’s stomach dropped again as he looked at the beautiful blue eyes, even blurred and from so far away, of Cas. He looked unbelievably awkward, and Dean was kicking himself for not noticing him then. They would’ve had so much more time. His chest ached at the thought.
Then his eyes scanned to the woman that Cas was talking to. It was his boss, Naomi. “She was here?”
Sam nodded, looking at Dean. “Only once, but Meg almost slipped when she was here. It wasn’t good, Dean.”
He stood up instantly. That’s all he needed to know. “Ruby works in my office. She’s on the narcotics team.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck is right,” Dean said tightly. His head was spinning, and he could hardly get a handle on it. “I’m checking you out of this place. I’ll make a call. I’ve got somewhere you can go.”
“Dean, wait. I can’t go…”
“They threatened you, Sammy,” Dean said, grabbing his brother's biceps to make him look at Dean. “They know you’re here and they know I’m close to cracking this. I have to crack it wide open… and I…” He sighed. “I forgive you, Sam. you know that, right? I forgave you the day you were born.”
Sam seemed to examine his brother's face, searching for something before he nodded. “Yeah, okay. Where are we going?”
“Her name is Sheriff Jody Mills, and she’s gonna take good care of you.”
+++
Part Seven
Masterlist
What if in the day of Unity, instead of Luz branding Belos to try and get him to stop the spell, Reader branded themself, essentially using themself as a hostage against him?
He'd most likely yell at you, revealing that he can't stop it, he doesn't have the power to do that and you're just going to suffer what the rest are. The only one who could stop it was dropped into the pit below the bridge and was probably shattered.
You literally put yourself in a position that he can't reverse without the Collector. He solemnly tells you that you've practically killed yourself in front of Luz because both you and Luz thought it was something it wasn't.
Is he heartbroken? Well, you have to have a heart to break, to begin with. He's probably angrier than anything at this to the point he's about to have a mental break and Luz needs to get away from him. He knows after what he did to the Collector, the child-god would only mock him and refuse to reverse it to watch him suffer for his betrayal.
Senn - Dark Material
