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scribomaniac · 2 years

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Something Wicca This Way Comes: Chapter Eighteen

I Killian I

A Kieran demon? Unlikely. A Harpy? Perhaps, Killian pondered for a moment before shaking his head. Harpies didn’t have graves. “What about a Banshee?” He asked, looking up from the Book of Shadows and over to Emma. He pointed to a line on the illustrated page when she looked over, “This says they sometimes haunt grave sites.”

Emma frowned, “I think we’re looking for someone who actually has a grave.”

Killian silently agreed, but unfortunately that information left them with practically zero information. He’d been flipping through the Book for what felt like ages now, hoping to find something that would help them, begging an ancestor to intervene and show him something in a new light. So far though, nothing was working. “A witch, then?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Emma said. “But it’s not like we can just dig up the grave of every witch.” Running a hand down her face, she added, “We definitely don’t have time for that.”

Flipping through more of the pages, Killian wished he knew what to say. He could only imagine what she and Liam had gone through in Never Land. Neither of them had talked about it since their return. Not really, anyway. Liam was still recovering in his room, and although Killian had visited him twice now, the older brother had been asleep both times. Emma had given everyone a short summary of what had happened–how Pan had tricked them, how she’d made a deal with the demon to save Liam’s life, how that had been a trick too–but Killian had a feeling there was more to it. Emma had been quiet since her return. Quieter than usual. While Will was attempting to scry for the unknown woman and Killian looked through the Book, Emma merely sat in the corner, turning an athame over in her hands and staring out across the attic.

Killian watched her for a moment longer, then found himself asking, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Emma's eyes flicked over to his and she crossed her arms. It took a minute, but eventually the Savior admitted, “I’ve been running through some female demons in my mind and none of them fit. The only one I can think of is the Seer, since she helped Rumplestiltskin steal the throne but,” she shook her head, “she doesn’t have a grave. What are we missing?”

Brushing through a good chunk of pages, Killian hummed. “We’ll figure something out, Swan.” He shot a cheeky grin her way. “We always do.”

Emma rolled her eyes but didn’t try to hide the smile on her face. “I suppose that’s true, though how I don’t know.”

“Pure talent, love.”

Emma snorted, “Or a whole bunch of luck.”

“Both, perhaps?” Killian’s smirk widened, bordering on a smile, when he heard Emma laugh. He flipped through another set of pages, about to suggest they take a break, when a strong premonition overtook him.

A woman with long dark, curly hair walked hurriedly through a dark park. She clutched at the hand of a young boy, his eyes wide and bright as he looked all around him.

Through a wall of fire, the Source stepped into the woman’s path. With a blood chilling laugh, he mercilessly flung the woman back and grabbed for the boy. The woman screamed, but she could do nothing as the demon and child were engulfed in flame before disappearing.

“Whoa.” Killian’s world tilted and his vision was blurry as he returned to the present.

A warm hand suddenly covered his own. “Killian?” Emma whispered, her brow knitted and her green eyes alight with concern. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, Killian tried to get his heart under control. It pounded against his chest like a wild and vicious thing, trying to escape its cage and reunite with its mate. It was a terribly sappy thought, but it was also terribly true.

“Aye, Swan,” he said after he felt he’d regained control of himself. “It was just a vision.”

“Oh,” Emma said softly. “I’ve never,” she ducked her head away before taking a step back. Killian’s hand twitched at the loss of her own. “I guess I’ve never seen you have one before. A vision I mean.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t know it looked like that.”

“Like what?” Killian was curious. No one had ever said anything like this to him before. As far as he knew his visions took less than a second in real time and only occasionally left him stumbling or gasping for air.

“So what’s the vision?” Will asked, making Killian and Emma jump.

Killian winced. He’d forgotten anyone else was in the attic.

Rubbing a hand down his face, the middle Jones’ brother thought back. “I’m not sure. It was a mother and a child. The Source kidnapped the boy.” Looking up at Emma, he asked, “Sound like anyone you know?”

“No.”

“So helpful, love.”

Emma grimaced, but didn’t add anything else.

“What were you touching?” Will asked, peeking down at the Book of Shadows. “That’s usually a clue.”

Looking down, Killian read aloud the words on the page. “The Sea Hag. The Sea Hag is a malevolent magical being known for tempting mermaids–this can’t be right. Are we supposed to be looking for the grave of a Sea Hag?”

Will tsked, then said, “What about what’s on the back?”

Humming, Killian flipped the pages. His jaw dropped as he read, “Baelfire?”

Emma gasped.

Killian looked up, “The Source’s son?”

“The demons you vanquished?” Will asked.

Emma took a moment, then nodded. “The half-demon I vanquished.”

Half-demon? Killian’s mind mulled over the word. If Baelfire was half of a demon, then that would mean the other half was . . . Locking eyes with Emma, Killian knew they’d come to the same conclusion. “The woman!”

Standing up abruptly, Killian wracked his brain as he tried to remember details from the vision. “What do you know about Baelfire’s mother?” He asked Emma.

“Not much. She was mortal. She was an artist. Baelfire didn’t talk about her much–I think her name started with an ‘M’. Mina or Mia–no,” Emma froze as her mind focused on the past. With a snap of her fingers, she told them confidently, “Milah! That was her name.”

Killian flinched. Of all the names in the world, he thought, why’d it have to be that one?

There was a brief pause, and then Will asked, “Any chance you have a last name to go with the first?”

Emma shook her head.

“Any idea when she was alive?”

Again, Emma silently signaled that she didn’t.

Will sighed, then looked to Killian. “And you? Any other details you noticed in the vision?”

“Sorry, mate. It all happened a bit too quickly.”

Offhandedly, Emma said, “Too bad you can’t replay your visions.”

Killian stroked his chin in thought. Why couldn’t he replay his visions? Sure, he’d never done it before, but he’d never really tried, either. This power of his felt like watching the T.V. Maybe, just maybe he could treat it like one, and rewind the tape. Maybe even slow it down so he could get a proper look at all the details.

“I can do it,” Killian said confidently, his blue eyes flicking between his brother and Emma. “I can replay the vision.”

“Since when?” Will asked, incredulous. Placing his hands on his hips and looking altogether too much like some mother hen, Will added, “I don’t remember you having this ability before.”

Shrugging, Killian stared down at the picture of Baelfire. “I never had to do it before, so I never thought to.” He looked back up, “I know I can though. Just–just give me a moment.”

The psychic energy was still there, all Killian had to do was manipulate it into doing his bidding. Theoretically, that is. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Killian placed his hand on Baelfire’s page and closed his eyes.

A moment passed. Then another. And another.

Killian pursed his lips. Come on, he thought, work, dammit! Work!

A woman with long dark, curly hair walked hurriedly through a dark park. She clutched at the hand of a young boy, his eyes wide and bright as he looked all around him.

Killian stared at the woman–Milah–intently this time. Getting as close to her as the vision allowed. This time he noticed something in her other hand. A diary, perhaps, clutched against her chest. Etched into the leathery cover was the name Cassidy.

The wall of fire appeared, and this time when the Source made his entrance, Killian kept his gaze on Milah as she was flung away from her son. The diary flew from her grasp, opening onto a random page. Killian ignored the screams, the laughter, and tried to glean any information from the diary’s pages. Just as the vision began to fade away, he saw it–there. The date in the upper right corner. November 6th, 1888.

With a lung bursting gasp, Kilian was back in the present. “Milah Cassidy,” he said, almost breathlessly. “Her name was Milah Cassidy. She–the vision’s from the eighteen-hundreds. 1888!”

Will took the name and ran with it, bolting back over to his scrying crystal and map, muttering the name Milah Cassidy under his breath on repeat.

“Killian, that was amazing.” Emma’s hands were on his shoulders. Pride shown abundantly in her beautiful green eyes. He was just about to take a step closer to her, perhaps place his hands on her hips, when he felt her press down on his shoulders, guiding him to lean back in his seat. “You’re looking pretty pale though. Why don’t you relax for a few minutes. Let me and Will take it from here.”

“I’m not a baby, Swan,” he said, a tad bit grumpy.

Emma gave him a small, tender smile. “I know. I’m just,” she looked down, then on second thought returned her gaze, “I’m worried about you.”

Killian blinked, not expecting that. Her words got the behavior she wanted from him though–quiet and docile–and she gave his shoulders a firm squeeze before walking over to Will to help him in his search.

I Emma I

Dreading this upcoming interaction, and cursing Tink for orchestrating it, Emma knocked on Liam’s bedroom door. After locating which cemetery Milah was buried in–a local one, thankfully–Emma had gone downstairs to get some water and had run into the white-lighter.

Then, next thing she knew, a tray of food and tea was in her arms and she was being shoved unceremoniously up the stairs.

Knocking again, this time Emma heard a muffled, “Come in,” and opened the door with one hand, her other balancing the tray.

“Emma,” Liam said, surprised to find the Savior instead of one of his brothers. “What are you–?”

“Tink asked me to bring this up,” Emma answered quickly. Deftly, she placed the tray on the side table next to Liam’s bed. When there was still the look of confusion in Liam’s eyes, she added, “She said she needed to talk with the Elders and Will and Killian were too busy preparing for tonight.”

“Oh,” Liam nodded. He put down the book he’d been reading and reached for the cup of tea. “What’s happening tonight? Anything I can do to help?”

Giving the eldest Jones brother a quick once over, Emma could help but to ask, “You sure you’re in a position to offer help right now?”

To her surprise, Liam laughed. It wasn’t a deep throated one, but it wasn’t a scoff, either. Emma blinked, not sure what to make of the behavior.

“I suppose,” Liam paused and shook his head, “I suppose you have a point.” He took a sip of his tea, then placed the cup to the side. “I should be back in the game soon enough though, thanks to . . . thanks to you, Emma.” He took in a deep breath, then gestured to a chair in the corner of the room. “Please, take a seat.”

Warily, Emma accepted the invitation. Crossing her legs, Emma waited with raised brows. This is not where she thought this interaction would go.

“Being cooped up in here these past few days has given me a chance to reflect.” Liam swallowed audibly.

Emma guessed this wasn’t easy for him. Whatever this was.

“And, well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not listening to you in Never Land. I’m sorry for that stunt I pulled with the Dreamshade–for putting us in danger. And Emma,” Liam made sure she was looking at him when he finished, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’ve had no right to be so hard on you.”

Emma didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if anyone had ever apologized to her. Not like this, with pure intent and sincerity.

Before she had a proper chance to respond, Liam barreled on, “I understand if you never forgive me, but I wanted to get that out there and to try and clear the air. I know how much Killian cares about you–”

Sitting up straighter, Emma’s chest tightened. They did not need to talk about this.

“–and I hope you care about him too, so I just wanted to make sure you knew I wouldn’t be getting in the way, or anything, if the two of you–”

“Okay!” Emma interrupted, getting to her feet. This conversation had begun with more sincerity and emotion than she was used to, and now, with this ‘big brother’ talk, Emma didn’t think she could handle it. It was way too much all at once. She needed time to process.

“I forgive you,” she blurted out. The two witches stared at each other for a quiet moment. Then, worrying he might think she was just trying to pacify him, she continued, “I do. Forgive you, I mean. I know you were just being protective.” She shrugged, “Maybe a bit overprotective, but I get it. If I had a family I’d probably act the same way. So yeah, don’t worry about it and ah–” she waved vaguely at his bed, “get some rest.”

She stepped towards the door, fully intending on making a quick getaway, when Liam said, “You do have a family, Emma.”

Freezing, Emma turned around to look at the eldest Jones.

“Mary Margaret, David,” Liam listed, “Tink–even Killian, Will, and me. We’re family now so don’t forget that, alright?”

Looking down to hide the smile threatening to overtake her face, Emma nodded. “Okay. I won’t.” Peering back up, she said, “I promise.”

They gave each other one last nod before Emma left Liam to his recuperation.

|Killian|

After making plans and gathering the necessary supplies, Killian and Emma waited until the sun had set before heading out on their mission.

The night was dark and cool as the two witches snuck into the graveyard. It was one of the oldest in the city and no longer took new residents. Killian wondered how long it had been since the place had a proper caretaker looking after it. The further back into the cemetery they went, back towards the oldest of the graves, the more wild the foliage became. Blades of grass reached above his knees, weeds ran amok, and the graves themselves looked like they’d seen their fair share of storms.

Some of the tombstones–old, thin slabs of stone–had broken in one way or another, or else the engravings detailing the owner’s life had all but disappeared due to time and the elements.

Aiming his flashlight over one particularly miserable looking stone, Killian grimaced, “How the bloody hell are we supposed to find Milah’s grave in all this mess?”

Emma shrugged, “Think scrying could help?”

Killian thought about it, but in the end shook his head. “We’d need a map of the cemetery for starters, and even then it’d still be too inaccurate. We’d need something of Milah’s to pinpoint it.”

"Let's try splitting up." At Killian's facial response, Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine, spread out then. So we can cover more ground but keep in each other's sight."

That, Killian could agree to. Emma walked further North while he went South. Weeds, weeds, and more weeds, he mentally sighed as he had to push some foliage away to try and read the degraded inscription on the bit of stone before him.

It wasn't until Killian had given up on reading his seventeenth tombstone when Emma called, “Hey, look at this."

Her light was focused on a large tombstone that was somehow still perfectly preserved. It had been placed far back in the lot, but it had clearly been taken care of over the years.

Killian frowned at the sight of it. “Milah Cassidy, 1859 to 1888. It looks brand new.” The stone itself matched those around it. Curved, thin, a testament to its time. But the stone looked freshly carved, the grass around it neatly cut. There were even wild flowers growing near the tombstone’s base and candles tucked away to the side. “Obviously someone’s been here.”

Emma kneeled down and touched one of the flowers. “Baelfire,” she said quietly.

“Baelfire?” Killian practically spat. “You’re sure?”

Emma nodded, saying nothing more. Standing back up, she held out her hand for a shovel. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Aye,” Killian said, feeling uneasy about this next part. Thrusting his shovel into the firm earth, he added, “The sooner the better.”

It took time–uncovering six feet worth of soil was no small task– and by the time they were three feet deep both were covered in a fine layer of sweat and panting lightly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Killian looked up, seeing Emma’s eyes connect with his, but then quickly flit away. He raised a brow, this would be something personal then. “Of course,” he answered easily enough.

Stopping her digging, Emma stood up straight and asked, “Why do you flinch whenever her name is brought up?” She gestured to the tombstone, Milah’s name highlighted in the light of the flashlight right behind him.

Grimacing, Killian hadn’t realized he’d been doing that. He took a moment, trying to think about the best way to go about explaining, but in the end decided to just lay it all out there. “I knew a Milah once, back in the Navy.” He leaned back against the side of the hole he’d been digging and looked down at the shovel in his hands. “Milah Fredman. We were in the same unit from day one. We were friends.” He looked up at Emma and gave her a small smile, “Nothing more, of course.”

They could have been, though. If they’d had the time. If they’d had the freedom.

“What happened to her?” Emma asked, her brows knitted with concern.

Killian took a moment. He hadn’t spoken about Milah to anyone in years. Not since he’d left the Navy. “We had an officer, Commander Robert Gold.” Here he had to pause again. It’d been a long time since he’d thought of the man, and anger quickly rose up from the depth of Killian’s heart. “He became obsessed with her. Wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace. He’d terrorize her when she was alone, play mind games with her, practically tortured her, and no one did anything.”

He still remembered the night he found her curled up on the floor of the kitchen, what was once soapy water had dried and crusted around her. The bucket of soapy water was across the room, a scrub brush beside it. Killian had asked her what happened, but when he saw her bruised cheek, her red hands with the skin practically rubbed raw, and the name Gold on her lips, his vision turned red.

Sighing, Killian tried to subdue his anger, to douse the fire that began to rage within himself. It was a long time ago, he reminded himself. All that was in the past. He’d moved on.

Finishing his story, he continued, “So one day, I did the most honorable thing I’ve ever done in my life.” Letting out a bitter laugh, he admitted, “I beat him to a bloody pulp. Next thing I knew I was being tossed out with a dishonorable discharge.”

“And Milah?” Emma asked.

“Milah,” Killian sighed, then nodded. “She got out not long after that. It was hard, but she managed it. Last I heard from her, she was in Florida. We haven’t kept in touch.”

She’d written him one letter. Just the one. To explain that she was safe, that she had escaped Gold and the Navy and she was doing well, but she asked he not look for her. She said he would just bring up painful memories for her, and she just needed to start over somewhere new, with new people. The letter had come from Florida, but Killian suspected she’d left the state as soon as the envelope was in the mail.

“Enough about my Milah, though,” Hook said, standing back up and returning to his shoveling. “We have a much more important Milah requiring our attention.”

They dug the rest of the way in silence, eventually hearing the dull thunk of metal hitting something hard. Not long after that they could see the mahogany casket containing Milah’s corpse. It was gruesome, this task of theirs, and even though Killian knew it had to be done, he couldn’t quite bring himself to reach down and open the casket.

Emma, either sensing his unease or perhaps just impatient, gave him a nudge. “Why don’t you keep look out? I’ll do the dirty work.”

She would, too. Killian could see it in her eyes, this didn’t bother her as much as it did him. He wondered if that had to do with her upbringing in the Underworld–surely she had done worse things than rob a grave–or maybe she was just better at masking her feelings. Both were certainly plausible.

“No, it’s fine.” He shook his head roughly. In case Emma really was just putting up an act then he couldn’t let her complete this task on her own. “We’ll do it together.”

The statement seemed to surprise her, with her brows raising and her eyes widening a bit. Looking away, she grabbed something from her jacket pocket, “Take this, then.”

She handed him a surgical mask.

“We don’t want to catch anything.”

Taking the mask and putting it on, Killian nodded, “Right. Thanks, love.”

Once Emma’s own mask was secured, Killian reached down and pried open the upper lid of the coffin. Finally giving way with a hiss and some dust, Killian found himself practically face to face with a skeleton.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. Quickly looking away, he searched for any signs of the dagger. And then, he saw it. “It can’t be that easy,” he said, feeling Emma peering over his shoulder.

But it was. In between Milah’s skeletal hands lay a silver dagger. It was unlike any dagger he’d ever seen. The blade was distinctive with its wavy edges; small, intricate designs had been carved along the blade, and along the flat edge was written Rumplestiltskin.

Grabbing what was probably the most dangerous weapon in the world, Killian tucked it away inside his jacket and closed the casket’s lid. “Let’s go,” he said to Emma over his shoulder.

Climbing out of the grave, the two witches made quick work of replacing the soil. Once that was done, Killian headed for the exit, but Emma hesitated. “Swan?” He asked, worried about what was slowing her down.

“Just,” she looked at him, then back to the disturbed grave, “just give me a second.” She took a step back towards Milah’s grave. Taking a deep breath, Emma chanted, “Personal loss should not be mine. Restore this grave, and make it fine.”

The brown soil shook, then glimmered with a white light as the grass they’d destroyed sprouted up again and the flowers they’d killed returned in full bloom.

Turning back around, Emma opened her mouth, then closed it. For a moment, Killian thought she wasn’t going to answer his unasked question, but then, very quietly, she said, “It didn’t feel right, leaving it like that.”

Something tightened inside Killian’s chest. So she was affected by all this after all, he thought.

Over an hour later, they arrived back at the manor to find Will and Liam seated in the kitchen. "Feeling better, then?" Killian asked his older brother.

Liam grinned, "Practically as good as new."

Humming, Will repeated, "Practically." Then, looking between Emma and Killian, he asked, "So? Did you find it?"

Grinning, Killian reached into his jacket and pulled out the dagger. "Aye, that we did." He placed it onto the kitchen table.

"Cool," Will nodded. "Now what?"

Liam leaned forward and grabbed the dagger, inspecting it closely. "I assume we stab him with it." He looked up at Emma, then offered the weapon to her, "Or, more accurately, you'll stab him."

Emma snorted and took the dagger, "Because I'm sure it'll be that easy."

"Good instincts, Emma!" Tink's voice echoed around the room as she orbed into the kitchen. Once she had fully reformed, she pointed to the dagger. "I've been up there researching that thing for an eternity and I've got some bad news. It's cursed."

With what could only be described as the final groan of a dying man, Will looked utterly done with the world as he said, "Of course it is."

#charmed #ouat #au #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #milah #liam jones #liam jones ii #aka will #tinkerbell #something wicca

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thetimelordbatgirl · 2 years

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Among the various random alternate universes by me and my friend, @disneyfan50 , is a Ultimate Spiderman inspired alternate universe with a mixture of OCs and takes on canon characters, with the title of this alternate universe being Ultimate Emerald Wicca.

Summary: “Locket Larsen has been Emerald Wicca for one year. She has saved lives and fought supervillains, but she is still in the process of learning how to be a superhero. Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. offers Locket the chance to train to be a real superhero and become ‘The Ultimate Emerald Wicca’. However, Locket will first have to learn how to work with a team of four fellow teenage superheroes: Stardust, Dragon Ranger, Olympian Archer and Golden Armor.”

Characters under read more.

*Emerald Wicca/Locket Larsen, the witch hero of New York, Locket has been trying to balance civilian life and hero life ever since she got her witchy powers a year ago due to radiation exposure on a field trip (she still has yet to understand how magic comes from radiation but weirder things have happened, really), but it’s a slow process for her in learning how to be a good superhero and that’s when Nick Fury comes in, offering her a chance to train to be exactly that alongside four other young heroes. *Olympian Archer/Helena ‘Haley’ Olympia, she comes from a distant, hidden home where she was trained to be a fierce warrior. Wielding her mother's Olympian Bow, she has returned to the city of her birth to act as a protector and defender - and secretly hoped to reunite with the other half of her family. *Stardust/Reese Hawkins, a young hero from Space who claims to be an Etherial who got lost during her adventures in space, Reese joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in hopes of at least being able to help the people on this planet with her powers but she and Locket instantly butt heads when the witch hero joins the team, leaving their team annoyed a-lot when the two do this during superhero stuff. *Dragon Ranger/Kiara Wilson, being from an academy that no one, not even SHIELD, has heard off, Kiara left the academy for reasons she doesn’t like to discuss as she tries to focus on training to be a hero, possessing a dragon spirit that helps her with that...when she’s got it under control, anyway, but she is often seen as the smart one of the team, both in hero and civilian forms. *Golden Armor/Erian Atliu, also trained as a warrior by his father, a Solasarian refugee. Erian hopes to put his skills to use to protect the city he calls home. *Nick Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. who between running the organization and responding to situations that need their help, mentors the young hero team as they taught all they need to know to become the best heroes they can be. *Phil Coulson, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. who works close with Nick Fury, Phil helps not only train the team but also keep an eye on them when working as their schools new principle. *Cassia Larsen, the twin sister of Locket, Cassia shows no real powers, which comes as a surprise - but Cassia is sneakier than you might think. *Jayla Graves, Locket’s best friend ever since Jayla and Jayla’s father gave Locket a lift home, Jayla doesn’t really care about being rich or popular, just wanting time with her dad really but that almost seems impossible nowadays with him always being busy. *Amanda Williams, the school jock, Amanda can often come off as the stereotypical bully a-lot, especially to Locket, which is ironic, given Amanda is a huge fan in comparison of Emerald Wicca. *Drew Larsen, Drew Larsen is the mother of Locket and Cassia, and she loves her children dearly, even if she has hidden the truth of their father's identity from them. *Henry Graves, Henry Graves is one of the most powerful men in the city, and the proud father of Jayla. Despite being absent often for so-called business trips, he has grand aspirations for her, himself, and all of his family, and naturally that may lead to some clashes with the heroes. *Doctor Octopus/Olivia Octavious, a sciencetist that works for Henry in a secret laboratory that he provided for her, Olivia makes everything that Henry asks her to make but when Henry wants Olivia to somehow get a-hold of Emerald Wicca for plans involving her powers, that proves to be difficult. *J.Jonah Jameson, the main reporter for the Daily Bugle Communications, J.Jonah is known for his hatred for masked vigilantes, especially Emerald Wicca as no matter what she does, he always finds a way to twist it against her in his broadcasts.

#ultimate emerald wicca au #alternate universes #megan's fanfiction #dani's fanfiction #megan's aesthetics #(honestly dont ask why locks fc is different looking here)#(i cant make my mind up with her fc alot in AUs so)

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retmodbranding · 2 months

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

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you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

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It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #percy jackson #percy series #percy pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson tv show

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steddieunderdogfics · 8 days

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Crossroads by Penny00Dreadful

@penny00dreadful

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

6,537 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Character Death, but it's a reincarnation au so they come back!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Funerals, funeral homes, Discussions of death, Neo-Paganism, Wicca, witch burnings, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Pansexual Eddie Munson, Religious Content, Sickness, Blasphemy, Requited Love, Hurt Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Protective Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson, War, Blood and Injury, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Queer Eddie Munson

Summary:

Steve has loved Eddie for centuries. For millennia. In every lifetime Steve remembers. And in every lifetime Eddie doesn't. OR The reincarnation fic where Steve drags himself through millennia just for one more chance to be by Eddie's side.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @penny00dreadful . Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #writers on tumblr #modern au #reincarnation #angst with a happy ending

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penny00dreadful · 11 months

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Crossroads

So I was hoping to get some more Return of the King or Somebody to Love out but these antibiotics are burning a hole through my stomach so I needed something incredibly self indulgent for my own comfort.

Some warnings up front: this is a reincarnation AU so there will be character death. But they do come back, I promise. Apparently my comfort involves a fuckton of angst and devastation so there's that too 🤷‍♀️ but I make it better, I promise. This is a heavy one guys, so take care of yourselves.

Now with beautiful cover art by @subbaculture

AO3 Link

Steve kept his voice low and soft.

Comforting.

Respectful.

He gently gestured the small group of mourners through to the viewing room, content to stand like a sentry in the back, there if they needed him but invisible otherwise in his plain black suit and glasses with his hands folded in front of him after double, triple checking his phone was on silent.

Death was an old friend to him now, though it had taken him a very, very long time to see it that way. Maybe that’s why he’d chosen the profession he had. Becoming a mortician wasn’t something many people actively worked towards since their teen years, unless they were already in the family but it just felt right to Steve.

He hadn’t been taken seriously at the start. He was young. Very young to be in this line of work. Currently in his early thirties and still fifteen years the junior of most funeral directors in the country.

But he was good at what he did. How could he not be? He’d seen more death than any other human alive.

He’d spent so long trying to fight death and losing every time that death no longer felt unsettling to him anymore. It was a fact of life.

Unavoidable.

So he made it his business to ease the crossing from one life to the other, for both the living and the dead and they tried to meet the needs of as many religions, as many traditions, as many practices as they could, both new and old.

They’d spearheaded more eco-friendly and green practices and with the recent rise of neo-paganism and wicca and worship of the Old Gods, they tried to be as accommodating as possible.

If the Steve from all that time ago, still on his first go around and organising the single most devastating funeral he’d ever experienced, could see him now, the Steve whose hands shook as he washed and anointed him with oils, the Steve who was so consumed by despair and fury as he placed the coin in his mouth with one last kiss…

He was pretty sure that Steve of old would have been enraged at his calm acceptance of death in any form.

But this Steve had grown. After all this time. Maybe it had taken him too long. Maybe he hadn’t grown in time, hadn’t grown quick enough to break it.

His Curse, he had taken to calling it.

But that had been when he was a broken and angry man. Now he saw that it had been less of a Curse and more of an Opportunity.

But it had taken him so long to pull himself from his spiral of devastation and anger and as a result he’d squandered that Opportunity.

It had been too late by the time he’d let any humility in.

So this was it now. This was his life and though he’d never be truly happy again, not without him… he was calm.

He was as centred as he could be.

He’d accepted his Fate.

Steve glanced up at the sound of a woman’s sob, ready to step forward if he needed to. The woman, Marion, he remembered, ended up being soothed softly by her sons, Jeremy and Killian. Their fathers death hadn’t been sudden, Walter had been sick for a while but that didn’t make it any less devastating for the three. They’d be okay. They were strong together, Steve thought, loving. Funerals were often make or break for families but these three at least, would pull through.

Steve loved what he did, strange as it was. He loved being able to bring comfort to the living during their hardest times. Helping them to say goodbye and hopefully get some closure.

Closure that he himself had rarely had.

Having that person one day then… they’re gone the next.

He wanted to bring that closure to people.

The room was exploding in flowers, both as a show of love from the deceased's family and a kindness from Crossroads Funeral Home, to try to cover up the smell of Robin's embalming work and to quietly bring some beauty to the room.

Robin.

Pretty much the only good thing that had come from that previous Life.

She'd followed him to this one after they had both died, side by side, dragging Vecna/Henry/One back into the Rainbow Room with the last of their energy and locking everyone else outside before the explosion could go off on the cold night of New Years 1987.

She didn't know it, of course, no one did. No one ever remembered except for Steve. But she knew there was something between them. Some strange string of Fate that connected them. He didn’t know how he’d survived so long without her.

She'd told him once that he looked old. He'd snorted and pushed her away, sitting on that dirty bathroom floor in their comical sailors costumes but she just shook her head.

I meant, like, you don't look old. It's your eyes Steve. They're… they're ancient. Like this isn't your first go around, you know?

He did know. God, did he know. He’d been in a cycle of life and death, life and death, on and on for over two and a half thousand years.

That first Life had been good. Fantastic, even. Two men living together and keeping the same bed wasn’t unheard of at the time. It wasn’t the done thing but it wasn’t something that brought them the hatred of their neighbours.

It was seen as more of an eccentricity than anything.

In later years, in later Lives, they’d have to learn the hard way to hide. But for now, they were happy. They were content.

Steve would accompany Eddie to visit Her temple at the entrance to Thessaly though he never much bothered with worship himself. He never much cared for Heracles or Zeus or Demeter or Atlas. He had everything he ever needed standing beside him.

Though Eddie would often jab him with some kind of teasing comment about how Eros had come for him specifically through Steve, waxing poetic about his moles or the line of his shoulders, often loudly and in public with that terrible cheeky grin of his that Steve was just forced to kiss off his face.

And if it wasn’t Eros then it was Helios inhabiting his eyes or his hair or his skin with the light of the sun.

Everything had been so good.

Steve didn’t think he’d ever been so happy just living.

But they hadn’t had enough time.

Barely seven years they’d had together before death came to tear them apart and vengeance buried itself deep in Steve’s blood.

When it all started, when Eddie lay feverish and dying in their shared bed from an infected bite, Steve had gone to Her.

It was the first time he’d ever given much of a shit about the gods and he didn’t know much about any of them to start with. But he knew Her. He’d listened to Eddie as he’d spoken about the strange feeling he had, the weird connection he felt to Her. He’d watched as Eddie had placed little food offerings of grapes and nuts at their little household altar for Her. He’d seen Eddie find a weird rock or shell or odd trinket and it was always a toss up as to whether it would be placed into Steve’s hand or on Her shrine.

He even wore Her strophalos around his neck.

Hecate.

She was a strange deity for Eddie to focus his dedication to. Her temple was mostly women but Eddie had always been a bit eccentric.

Sorcery, witchcraft, necromancy, the moon, ghosts, gravesites, the night and crossroads. All the things She watched over. All things that were just so Eddie.

Of course he felt a kinship with Her.

Steve’s weird and wonderful freak.

When it happened… Steve had been incandescent with rage and desolation and wanted the world to bend to his will as a consequence of it. He’d been ready to tear everything apart.

His despair had crawled up on him in those last few days, sitting at Eddie’s bedside, watching his love slowly fade away.

Once the infection took hold, Eddie wasn’t really there anymore. He was in and out of consciousness, muttering nonsense and barely able to register anything around him.

Steve spoke to him constantly, holding his hand, stroking his hair but Eddie never responded, not coherently anyway.

They didn’t get to say goodbye. They didn't get any last ‘I love you’s’, they got nothing.

The only time Steve had left his side was to beg and plead and offer himself up at the small household altar. He told Her he’d give anything She asked, make anything She wanted to happen happen, She just had to save him. But like always, She stayed silent. No sign, no movement, no feeling, not even a gust of wind.

But when had the gods ever paid attention?

There was a reason he’d never worshipped. It never brought them anything.

When Eddie died, Steve had refused to let anyone else come in and perform the funeral rites. Eddie was his and his alone, no one else had the right to wash his body, to anoint him, to carefully place the wreath over his head.

Tradition could get fucked.

He had lost his whole world, so everyone else could deal with the consequences.

Steve had kissed him one last time after he had placed the coin in his mouth. He’d debated the coin heavily with himself.

If he didn’t pay the Ferryman, maybe Eddie could come back?

But in the end, common sense won out. He couldn’t keep Eddie trapped like that. He’d never forgive himself.

By then his rage had settled into something cold and constant in his gut.

He would get Eddie back.

If he had to climb to the top of Mt. Olympus himself to demand it, he would.

After the burial, he stood in the street outside Her temple, watching with a half drunk bottle of wine in hand. He wanted Her to know he was coming. He wanted Her to know he was a damn force to be reckoned with.

How dare She ignore him.

How dare She allow him to be taken.

How dare She not give him back.

Eddie was his.

And he was Eddie’s.

How dare She.

He didn’t know how long he stood there before he walked inside.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

It was forbidden. He shouldn’t have even thought about it. He’d been touched by death, it had entered his house and he would be unwelcome anywhere holy for at least a year, lest his miasma spread to the precious gods.

Funny how they claimed to be all powerful but shrunk away from the air of death that hung around the mortals left behind by loved ones.

Fucking cowards.

People tried to stop him from coming inside, of course they did. Everyone knew of his loss, his rage, his determination. He’d screamed so loud when Eddie had died, the sound had practically stretched through the entire town. They were all so loyal to the gods who couldn’t give a flying fuck about any of them.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, the worshipers cowered away from him. The Priestesses fled, as though the taboo of the touch of death in this sacred space could somehow infect them.

He had managed to fling Her offerings to the floor and tear a small statue from its pedestal before he was dragged back outside.

The people on the streets gave him a wide berth in the weeks after that. He’d disrespected a goddess and no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire.

But fuck Her.

Let Her be pissed off.

She’d taken everything from him.

Steve felt like he was adrift. He spent hours every day at Eddie’s grave, barely able to exist away from him for long. And whenever he wasn’t there he was at home, in the dark, lying on Eddie’s side of the bed slowly dancing in between unbearable waves of sadness and crawling, festering anger.

The anger he felt was… it was poisonous. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breathe for how furious he was.

Physicians were sent to him and were all extremely alarmed at how out of balance his humours were. His Yellow Bile was in extreme excess and they desperately advised him of what he needed to do to become balanced again, but Steve didn’t want anything less.

He needed to stay angry.

His legs were carrying him to Her crossroads before he even knew where he was going.

It was the dead of night and the only thing lighting the intersection up was a single torch burning bright, hanging off a pole in the ground, illuminating up the three faces of Her statue.

She stood like a sentry watching and waiting carefully to make sure travellers made it across safely. A small gathering of offerings stood at the bottom of the statue and Steve had a sudden urge to burn them.

He wrenched the torch down from where it hung and thrust it at Her feet, catching the wreaths and flowers and fruit and small hand carved figurines worshipers and travellers had left behind in deference.

It did nothing to quell the rage within him so he swung back around, prepared to bury the charred and desecrated remains right in the centre, to send a goddamn sign straight to Her heart if he had to.

But as he straightened up he was forced to recoil in shock as the head of the statue had turned. She seemed to stand taller now. She had been of a height with him when he started. Now She loomed over him, glaring down at him with such ferocity he could feel it down to his very core.

But he refused to back down now, he couldn’t.

She was finally paying attention.

“Give him back.” He growled at Her. Her face didn’t move, She stayed as still as stone. Maybe She was still stone, he hadn’t actually seen Her move after all.

And angry wind blew through the crossroads, nearly snuffing out the torch Steve still held in his hand.

She didn’t speak to him but Her words were clear.

He is not mine to give back.

“You’re fucking right. He’s not yours. He’s mine. You had no right to take him.”

Something hissed behind him and Steve whipped around with the torch that almost seemed to phase, one into two into one again.

At the centre of the crossroads, slowly writhing and coiling about itself sat a giant serpent, its crystalline amber eyes burning through him. It was much bigger than it should have been, as thick as one of his arms and so long Steve couldn’t see its tail extending back into the darkness beyond.

I did not take him. She hissed, extending a forked tongue.

Steve swallowed, trying to stop the oil from the double-single torch dripping onto his hand and burning him but also keeping an eye on the giant creature in front of him, taking a shaky step back, heart beating furiously through his chest both from fear and all encompassing rage.

“I don’t believe that. He loved you and you did nothing to stop his crossing!” He spat back at the viper.

The dark was so close around him now, closer than it had been, though the single-double torch still burned as bright as ever.

The crossroads felt completely separated from everything else on earth at that moment, like he was on an island afloat in the darkness.

A low rumbling growl reverberated through the air behind him, sending another spike of fear up through Steve’s spine and forcing him to turn, trying to keep one eye on the giant snake and another on the behemoth of a creature that was slowly stalking towards him on the opposite side.

The dog was huge. It’s snout just about level with Steve’s shoulder, with teeth bared, head low and an angry look in its eye.

That is not my domain. She snapped at him with a gnashing of Her teeth.

“Then make it your domain!” He snapped back, baring his own teeth in kind.

He took another step back, away from the two creatures but was frozen to a stop as a great gust of air was exhaled onto the back of his neck and through his hair.

Turning again, he was backed into the centre of the crossroads as a great and powerful horse approached, towering over him. It did not glare or snap but simply observed.

Steve was now surrounded by Her on three sides, the writhing serpent, the gnashing dog and the stoic horse all slowly closing in on him.

The horse tilted its head, almost curiously.

If you have not earned your penance by the time I am worshipped again, you will bring your end to the both of you.

“Wh-what?” Steve was still trying to strike with anger but the roiling terror was starting to take hold, especially as Her three avatars slowly closed in. “What does that mean?!”

She didn’t answer and Steve knew in his soul the conversation was over. He’d signed his warrant by searching Her out in the first place and whatever happened now, he just hoped it brought him back to Eddie, somehow.

He felt the snake coil itself around his neck, he felt the teeth of the dog in his stomach and the crack of a hoof against the side of his head before everything went dark.

Steve was fifteen in his second Life before things really started to make sense. Because ever since he’d hit puberty he had all these memories that didn’t belong to him.

Or he thought they didn’t belong to him.

His parents thought he was some kind of Seer. He thought so too until one day four years later. He’d been hired as a private and exclusive Seer to a local wealthy politician who Steve suspected just preferred to look at him, rather than have him divine anything.

But they’d been travelling for days to a neighbouring city to marry his daughter off to some young aristocrat or other when their party came upon a familiar crossroad.

The place had changed in the twenty years since he’d last stepped foot here in his previous Life, where he’d sealed his Fate. He could feel it in his bones.

Her statues had been replaced with finer, more intricate and detailed reliefs. The offerings towered high, stretching out into the road itself, like the people here knew this place had been touched by Her.

Everything came back to him tenfold. All the anger, all the devastation, all the bargaining and rage and loss hit him like it had happened only yesterday.

What the fuck was he doing here? Following around some fat, over-indulgent, lecherous old man, spitting nonsense at him like that would help his political decisions?

That’s not what he was here for. He was here to find his Eddie.

Steve didn’t even know if he could find him. Is that how Hecate had punished him for disrespecting Her so much? To relive his life again but without him this time?

Didn’t matter.

If Eddie was here, he’d find him.

And he did find him.

Betrothed to his Master's daughter.

Of course.

But their wedding would never happen. He stole Eddie away with him into the night. As soon as they had laid eyes on each other the decision had been made. They had to have each other, no matter the consequences.

And the consequences did come for them. Thirteen years later they were finally caught and Steve had been forced to watch Eddie die again. They’d been sentenced to death by banishment.

The downsides of pissing off a politician with a grudge.

They’d been starved out, stripped of everything but the clothes on their backs and dumped out into the wilderness.

Eddie had died first of exposure to the cold and the only mercy Steve found in that was that he followed soon after.

He learned pretty soon in his following Lives to be a bit more careful when seeking Eddie out, trying to keep him as safe as possible.

Because Steve remembered everything.

Eddie remembered nothing.

Each new Life was a fresh start for him.

But it didn’t really matter how careful Steve had tried to be. Tragedy and devastation always came for them. And it always came for Eddie first.

He thought sometimes that maybe things would have been different if he’d tried to get Eddie back through Hades, or Thanatos or Atropos. But then again, they probably would have taken his desecration of their shrines much more seriously. Maybe Eddie’s connection to Hecate had been a kindness.

Throughout his various Lives, Steve had died almost every way it was possible to die. He’d been executed, fatally injured, succumbed to sickness, fallen victim to accidents and even died of old age a few times.

Eddie usually died too soon. Way too soon. But Steve wasn’t sure if that was just his own perception of things. No amount of time with him would ever be enough, so any time death came for him seemed too soon.

So maybe he wasn’t dying unusually early just because Steve was there.

But it certainly felt like it.

Once Eddie died, Steve usually followed not long after.

And then he'd be born again. Sometimes nine months later, sometimes years and years later, often in another country, another part of the world.

He’d seen hundreds of years of history pass him by.

He knew where Cleopatra was buried (with extreme disrespect), he knew what happened at the Library of Alexandria (it wasn't burned to the ground), he'd been to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon (estimated location was about 200 miles off where people thought), he knew what had happened to The Princes in The Tower (they hadn't survived five minutes once the door closed), he spoken and forgotten ancient languages and text, he'd been in moments of history again and again.

Each of Eddie’s deaths felt like dying to Steve. Each and every one.

Some were gentle.

Some were not.

In some Lives Steve never even knew what happened to him.

In some, by the time Steve found him, Eddie would already have a family around him. Some strange amalgamation of outcasts and ‘undesirables’. Sometimes he’d have a wife or a husband at his side and some children of his own.

Steve could never bring himself to get in between those relationships. Yes, Eddie was his. But only when he chose to be.

Regardless of Eddie’s choice, Steve would always belong to him.

And if that had to be as a friend, then so be it.

He just wanted Eddie to be happy.

Because he knew intimately all the ways it could end for him.

Steve had seen him sentenced to transportation for life to Australia, just reaching the dock as the vessel was on the horizon, disappearing soon after and Steve would never see him in that Life again.

He’d seen him starving and pale boarding a coffin ship during The Hunger, just slipping out of his grip before he could get to him. Eddie had never made it to Quebec.

Steve had seen Eddie hanged and stabbed and shot. He’d died beside him in battle.

He’d seen him fade from sickness and his own grief at the loss of all of his children during the Black Death.

Eddie had died in almost as many ways as Steve had and Steve had to bear witness to most of them.

The worst of all of them had been in 1602 in a tiny village on the edge of the Holy Roman Empire.

It was early in the morning. They’d been asleep in bed, curled around each other when their door was kicked in. Steve had been as prepared as he could be. He was always prepared now. It had been two thousand years at this stage and he was always ready for anything.

Well, almost anything.

He’d snatched up his sword without a second thought and swung. He was the most skilled combatant in the world, hundreds of years of training and discipline in some of the best armies, under some of the best commanders history had to offer. It allowed him to cut down three of the men before Eddie could even untangle himself from their blankets.

But no amount of skill could help him when he was overpowered and outnumbered.

Something had cracked him hard over the back of the head and everything had gone dark before he could raise his sword again.

He didn’t know how long it was before he came to, but when he did he almost wished he could go back to blissful darkness.

Almost.

Because Eddie was struggling, tied to a wooden beam on a small platform in the centre of the town with kindling being tossed at his feet and a long list of heresy charges and accusations of witchcraft being called out to the gathered townspeople.

Everything was still foggy, like his brain was being filtered through a slow fed sieve. His movements were sluggish and broken and he couldn’t break free. He was being held on his knees, on his own platform with a guard on either side.

Things were still fading in and out for him as he tried to shove the guards away and fought to loosen the bonds around his wrists, tying his hands behind his back.

Steve’s head was wrenched upwards by his hair as the first torch set the kindling under Eddie ablaze.

His gaze locked with Eddie’s, his wide, brown, beautiful eyes were tear streaked and terrified as he screamed out for him through the rapidly thickening haze, coughing and spluttering as he tried desperately not to breathe in the suffocating grey-black smoke.

The cry that Steve let out was one filled with millennia of fury and anguish as he snapped the ropes around his wrists clean away and reached over, unsheathing one of the guards swords and beheading the two of them before they could even blink.

He cut his way through the crowd, completely uncaring if it was civilian, soldier, guard or religious figure who stood in his way. If they didn’t move, they were removed.

Steve threw himself up on top of the pyre, ignoring any pain that came from the stifling heat and burning wood below him as he cut Eddie's limp body down and threw them both off the side.

But it was too late and Eddie was gone again.

Steve turned his cold eyes back on the crowd who were now standing back, regarding him with apprehension and fear as he slowly got to his feet and twirled the sword in his hand.

That town wouldn’t be found on any modern map. He’d obliterated it.

He’d let the streets run red and razed it to the ground.

It would never be remembered.

History never knew it existed.

He’d made sure of it.

Something in that Life had broken Steve irrevocably. Something had cracked. Doubt began to seep in. He started to worry that this cycle would never end.

This was the worst kind of punishment.

It was a punishment he’d not only doomed himself to, but he’d doomed Eddie too.

With each Life his soul felt heavier and heavier.

Until it all came to a head in Hawkins.

Being Steve Harrington, babysitter extraordinaire and ex-King of Hawkins High had been… easy at first. He’d been born into wealth this time which was always a relief. He didn’t have to scrape and slog just to eat or put a roof over his head but wealth had its own shackles, its own chains.

Expectation and duty and honour. That always travelled in wealth, no matter the century.

Add that onto the crushing weight of his Curse, the deal at the crossroads he’d made with Her… it wasn’t the worst Life he’d ever lived but it wasn’t the smoothest either.

Because the Life in Hawkins was the first Life he had ever lived where he made the choice not to find Eddie.

It should have been simple.

It should have been the simplest thing he’d ever done. Born, live, die in the same small town.

And Eddie would stay safe.

Live a long and happy life, wherever he’d been born into.

Steve had scoured the town out of the corner of his eye as soon as his memories came back to him but was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he couldn’t find hide nor hair of him.

Because if he wasn’t here, if he wasn’t around Steve, maybe he wouldn’t die tragically this time.

But it was almost as if the universe heard his sigh of relief.

Almost like She had.

Because a year later when Steve was thirteen, a miserable boy with a buzzed head and giant, defiant brown eyes turned up at school.

He’d be living in the town now.

Steve couldn’t escape him.

He could run away, get as far away as a bus would carry him and hope he wouldn’t be brought back, but he knew he’d never be able to. He’d seen Eddie now, so trying to physically separate himself would be like trying to rip his own arm off.

So no, he couldn’t escape him.

But he could ignore him.

If he couldn’t put physical distance between them, he’d keep the emotional distance as much as it killed him to do it.

He was growing crazy with it by the time he was sixteen and he thought…

Maybe he could try something else?

Nancy was as much of an Eddie look alike as it was possible to get. He hadn’t even realised that that was why he’d picked her. It hadn’t been a conscious decision.

But if he was going to let Eddie go, he could allow himself to have the next best thing.

Up until Tommy and Carol and Barb and the pool.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t do it.

It made him feel disgusting.

It felt so disloyal to do anything with anyone else. He never had. He’d never wanted to. He still didn’t want to, he realised.

Eddie wasn’t his in this Life.

Eddie had never been his to dictate decisions over anyway.

But Steve was Eddie’s.

In every Life, in every iteration, Steve belonged to Eddie.

Whether Eddie knew it or not.

So no, he couldn’t go through with it, with Nancy. She was a lovely girl but she wasn’t him.

Steve had only ever belonged to one person and he would only ever belong to that person.

And he was okay with that, he realised.

Nancy was a bit surprised that he’d stopped but understood well enough in the end.

All of that was swiftly forgotten about though, when they heard Barb scream from outside and had to pull her from the jaws of some otherworldly demon.

Steve had thought he’d seen everything the world had to offer but he’d never seen anything like this.

War was no stranger to Steve, he knew it well.

He and Eddie had fought side by side many times whenever Fate had pushed them in that direction, most memorably in The Sacred Band on Steve’s second or third Life. They’d actually survived long enough to retire from that troop and had another ten years together before death came for Eddie again.

Throughout time Steve had fought using an aspis, a gladius Hispaniensis, a Hallstatt sword, then maces, glaives and longbows. He fought as a knight in plate and then with canons and bayonets before getting his hands on an SMLE and then an M1 Garand.

But this war was different to every one he’d fought in the past. There was no phalanx, no column, no cavalry. Just vicious mindless monsters, a handful of kids and teenagers and one super powered child.

Steve fought that war like he’d fought every other one in his long life, with reckless abandon, trying to keep his charges safe and most importantly, trying to keep Eddie safe.

Eddie was a musician in this Life, like he so often was and he was going to go far. He was talented. He was beautiful. He had so much life in him.

Steve was going to make sure Eddie got there if it killed him.

Again.

He’d let him get as far away as possible and maybe, just maybe Eddie would live the life he deserved.

But that hadn’t happened.

Like the universe, like She had heard Steve’s silent pleas again, the two of them had been shoved together under the most apocalyptic of circumstances. Like it was all one last test of Steve’s resolve. To see if he could stay away. To see if he could let Eddie go. Allow him to look at him with those big, beautiful eyes and smile his devastatingly pretty smile and light up like a live wire in Steve’s space with so much energy and passion Steve felt like he was caving in on himself.

If he could let Eddie be, if he could avoid reaching out, if he could stop himself from ruining Eddie once again then maybe Eddie would be allowed to live. The Curse would be broken.

And he thought he had succeeded.

He felt something snap in him, something break, something release.

So he thought he’d done it.

But then he’d made it back to the trailer to find blood. Blood and torn flesh and bubbling breath and one last whispered “Stevie?” before Eddie’s endless brown eyes went dull.

And Steve was done.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He’d walked to the crossroads just outside his house and screamed that he was done. It was over. She’d won.

He didn’t get an answer.

He didn’t expect one.

So he went into that Rainbow Room with Robin convinced this was his last Life. Ready for it to be over. For good.

Almost wishing for it.

But he’d been born again in 1992 and now?

Well now he had learned to just exist.

To just be.

And to find whatever contentment he could.

He had his business. He had Robin. So he was… okay.

And that was okay.

Robin stuck her hands in her pockets as she stood in the cold of the morgue, watching Steve close everything up for the evening.

“I don’t want to go.”

“You have to go, Birdie. You need to break up with her.”

Robin sighed, long and heavy. “God, I know. Can’t you do it for me?”

“For the last time, no. Break up with her over text if you have to. She deserves shitty treatment. Fuck her.”

“I can’t. She’ll refuse to accept it. She’ll keep showing up and insisting it never happened and then she’ll throw the mother of all fits when I try to tell her it did happen!”

“So that’s why you’re taking her out to dinner? So she has to listen?”

“And we’ll be in public. So she can’t cause a scene.”

Steve scoffed. “That’s never stopped her before,” he muttered to himself but raised his voice again at Robin's scowl. “That’s all very red flag behaviour, Birdie.”

“Yes I know Steven, thank you. Why do you think I’m breaking up with her?”

“Okay.” He gave the door to the morgue one last tug, making sure it was locked up tight. “No dead bodies are escaping from me tonight. Call me after?” He jabbed his finger up to the ceiling and behind, in the direction of his house, tucked away at the back of the business, separated and hidden from sight by a line of trees.

“I can’t believe you still own a landline. Who even has a landline anymore?”

Steve shrugged but grinned at her still. “I’m old fashioned.”

“Whatever. Okay. I’m gone. Wish me luck!” Robin called back as she bounced her way up the stairs.

“Good luck!” He shouted after her. “Let me know if you need my assassination skills!”

“You’ve never killed anything bigger than a spider, babe!” The sound of the front door closing was the only thing she left behind to punctuate her statement.

Steve frowned. “Never killed anything bigger than a spider,” he mimicked as he trudged back upstairs, grumbling, “I’ve taken on the damn Mongols, never killed anything bigger than a spider, pshh.”

He continued to mutter to himself as he walked through, switching off the lights before making his way outside to lock up the front door.

He had just given the door one last tug when he heard a voice behind him, speaking in a language he hadn’t heard in over two millennia.

“I’ve been looking for you, my sunshine.”

Steve swiped around, scarcely daring to believe what he was hearing but there he was.

Eddie stood in front of him, ripped up black jeans, black cons, long curly dark hair and a yellow sweater that looked like something Steve had worn in the 80’s.

All Steve could do was breathe out his name. “Eddie.”

Eddie smiled at him, a warm, gentle, pretty thing that filled Steve’s heart and made it ache all at once.

“What… what do you-?”

“I remember everything, sweetheart.” Eddie stepped forward, only stopping when they were toe to toe.

“Everything?” Steve could scarcely believe it. Wouldn’t dare believe it if it wasn’t for the strophalos symbol hanging around his neck.

“Everything.” He nodded, placing a hand at either side of Steve’s face. “You came for me. Every single Life. You were there. I figure it’s about time I return the favour.”

A laugh burst out of Steve without his permission but it was really more of a sob than anything as he raised his own hands to encircle Eddie’s wrists.

“What does this mean?” He whispered, terrified that too loud a noise, too sudden a movement would shatter everything. “What does this mean for us?”

“It means it’s broken, baby.” Eddie touched their foreheads together and said, with scarcely a breath between their lips, “It means you have me. And I have you. Forever.”

And Steve was so scared. So scared that it wouldn’t stick, that it would all change the second he closed his eyes but he couldn’t deny he could feel it. Deep down in his soul he could feel that he was free.

Steve nudged himself forward, just barely a hair but it was enough to bring them together, it was enough to kiss and it was only at that moment he realised he hadn’t kissed Eddie in decades.

Since before Hawkins.

It was like electricity had shot through him, his whole body, his mind, his soul had been aching, craving, needing Eddie's touch and it was like he could breathe again with it.

When their kiss broke neither of them pulled away, they continued to hold each other, to hug, pressed flush with arms tight around each other and Steve didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go.

Yeah. Forever sounded pretty good.

I am not a particularly religious or spiritual person but when I tell you I felt seen as I was writing this know that I am not exaggerating 😅 it was less that I felt watched, more that I felt observed.

I shit you not when this idea popped into my head, Hecate started appearing everywhere. On my podcasts, in my YouTube videos, my tiktoks, on the radio, in conversation at work... Everywhere.

Being Irish living in Ireland I'm surrounded by mythology and legends and stories and paganism all the time so that did fuel some of my interest. I follow a good number of pagans and wiccans on social media and I know a few in real life too so I tried my best to be as respectful to their beliefs as I could in my depictions.

This has been my most researched fic to date. The amount I read for this was intense. Funeral rites in Ancient Greece, as much as I could read on Hecate, how funerals work in America because apparently the Irish do things very differently to the rest of you?? The greatest mysteries in history, millennia of military tactics, the intricacies of the Greek Gods... just so much stuff! And it was fun!

ALSO The Sacred Band! Holy shit! The Sacred Band was a specific troop of soldiers in Ancient Greece composed completely of male lovers under the understanding that if you're fighting next to your love you'll fight harder. And people say this whole queer business is a recent thing 🙄

Anyway I hope you liked it! 🖤

Hecate

Strophalos

The Princes in The Tower

Coffin Ships

The Hunger

The Black Death

Holy Roman Empire

Heresy witch burnings

The Sacred Band

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honeii-puff · 5 months

Text

Six of Crows AU but the crows are a wicca, a war veteran, a paralegal, an art TA, an ex-Broadway star, and a crime scene investigator that all got stuffed in the same therapy group.

@lilisouless @barrel-crow-n

#no but i'd read this au #it would be so funny #Genya's their therapist #six of crows #soc

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straying-further-from-gods-grace · 4 months

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Human AU! Picrew

Alastor! He's a serial killer and cannibal in every AU I make unless otherwise stated. Some AU will include Al being trans, having epilepsy, or severe scarring and sometimes migraines. Eating disorder in the fact he mainly eats humans and starves a lot of the time

Nifty in every AU will be Alastors little sister, be it through found family or actual adoption. She is also a cannibal and a nurse unless otherwise stated. Every AU she lost her eye while being sex trafficked.

Rosie and Husk are Always going to be Exes, be it married or dating, but exes. Rosie is a cannibal, Husk isn't he just helps his family hide evidence. In certain AU they're Nifty and or Al's adoptive parents/found family parent's in others they are just older friends who are protective and the mom/dad friend. Rosie is a psychologist and Husk a bartender, most AU they're gonna be ex military

Angel Dust (Anthony) Husks twink boyfriend he gets after divorcing or breaking up with Rosie. Still a hooker but he and Val have a healthy relationship. Unless I need Val to be nasty for my plot. Ex addict, makes music sometimes, recovering eating disorder

The Vees! Vox with his heterochromia and I like making him sweaty either an actual problem or he's just sweaty. I also like to give him a stutter in certain AUs. He's German.

Valentino is as always, half blind, and he's a nasty weird tall man with a connective tissue disorder in most AU, he's also Latin and a pretty good friend he's very supportive just bad at it.

Velvet is a weird little chaotic rat but her boys worship her. For some reason I see her as a Floridian military brat idk, fashion designer and influencer in every AU. I ship her with Rosie.

In some AU they're adoptive siblings

Charlie and Vaggie! Twinning UwU! Vaggie is an ex Catholic cause I think it makes sense and Charlie definitely practices Wicca or something. Charlie actually does own a hotel, it's a rehab her father funded for her because she wants to help nd she has whateva sort of degree would help with that, something with therapy. Vaggie works as a security guard there.

Vaggie twin sister Lute, she's having a near constant mental breakdown, she's a psycho deep down and is FILLED with religious guilt idk what to tell ya. Killed someone. Her arm is amputated too. She teaches self defense, specialising in helping people with disabilities learn to work around them.

Charlie cousin Peter. Everyone think he's the "gay" cousin but he's actually straight and VERY comfy in his masculinity, nondenominational. Isn't technically allowed to visit the Morningstar house alone because they're "evil" but they're just spiritual. Broadway!!

Lute boyfriend, Adam. I could NOT resist making him adorable and precious because you see him and go awww but then he fucking opens his mouth and calls you a slur. Lmao. Questioning his faith. Rock star wanna be, studies music theory or something

Adams cousins! Big sis Sera is constantly worrying and lil sis Emily is heavily sheltered. Sera is a Sunday School teacher, idk, maybe religious studies? Emily if the AU has her college aged will want to be a nurse (I've been seeing Emily ships everywhere but what if she falls for her fellow nurse who's secretly a psychopath?? Nifty, I mean)

Cherri! Angels BFF! She's deffo an artist and also a demolition expert or something, and does monster trucking too! She's the best most supportive person, Penti adores her and she's secretly in love too but she's scared of it. Angel keeps mocking her that he's got two guys (Val and Husk) and she won't even take a chance on the dude who would find a way to blow up the sun for her.

Penti is trans, hjs family is also Muslim but he was disowned when he came out. He has triplet little siblings! Is studying to be or is a physicist. Idk minor speech impediment/lisp!

Frank is the embodiment of chaos and when he meets Alastor is obsessed with him (crushing on a guy your older brother doesn't like is a right if passage) Chandler and Leslie are his siblings. They we're disowned for supporting Penti and Chandler has refused to wear her veil since. Leslie still upholds their faith but is very supportive.

Usually Vark will be a dog. But occasionally an AU will call for him to be Vox little brother so here's a design for him!

#ao3 link #human au #Hazbin hotel #Picrew #radio static #vox x alastor

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ghouljams · 5 months

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Ghoul,

I’m obsessed with your magic system, it can be read and understood intuitively while being super easy to get invested in, it also reminds me a lot of my sister’s own practices in Wicca. (Encountering your Fae AU is what got me into COD.)

What do you think inspired your magic system, and may I have permission to use it in my dnd campaign?

Thanks <3

Witch's magic system is inspired by Hoodoo and Appalachian folk practices, as well as my own slap shod approach to magic!

The fae are inspired by Celtic fairy tales, German fairy tales, Dutch fairy tales, and a homestuck fanfic(Gushing Gold by callmearcturus on ao3 10/10, Witch's back garden is also inspire by this fic), plus my own take on why/how fairies do the things they do. My sister has informed me that I don't follow any of the rules that most fae novels published follow, idk if I believe her.

You are more than welcome to use any magic system I have cooked up in your dnd campaign! I'm honored! I love intuitive magic, I think that's how magic should be. When you understand the building blocks of it, it should come naturally to you. Maybe it takes some people more studying than others to get it, but once you do understand it and can pick out the pieces it should all be intuitive.

#ghoul speaks #i adore witch's intuitive magic #its so messy and prganic #i have a few messy spells that she casts in unpublished fics #and they bring me so much joy #funny how far a little blood and silver will go

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myriadparacosm · 5 months

Text

CHARMED AU - 1. Something Wicca This Way Comes

Read on AO3

Sirius isn’t sure anymore. Grimmauld Place hasn’t changed, not one bit, which shouldn’t scare him off but he has left this place with the hope that it would have crumbled down. The bricks are clean and shiny despite their dark colours. It shouldn’t be a contrast with the rest of the Borough of Islington and London’s architecture but the house still stands out - as if to scream that it's better than any other. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise that somehow Grimmauld Place inherited their family’s big ego.

He sighs and checks on his parked bike before taking off his helmet. It’s hopefully not too late to come. With his heavy backpack in hand, he climbs the steps he hoped he would never have to ever again. The silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent greets him with an infuriating clean glint. Sirius roughly hits it against the door.

With a sigh, he prepares himself with a practised smile and a last look at his motorbike. The trip has been pleasing especially with the company of the full moon always following him, no matter the clouds passing by, and it somehow softened the cold as he drove. It’s not every day that you can see a full moon this beautiful.

“Yes?”

That’s not Regulus. Sirius frowns at the tanned, quite dark, man with perfect bright blond hair as he slowly pieces together a far off memory of a child a bit similar.

“Aren’t you— the Rosier boy?” He asks.

“Evan,” he says, glancing at him up and down. “Sirius, right?”

Frankly it’s obvious who he is but Sirius is more concerned about what he is doing here. He crosses his arms and tries to take a look inside.

“Of course that’s me. What are you doing here? Where is Regulus?”

Rosier purses his lips and hesitates to look behind him although he closes the door a bit more. “Hum-”

“Alright, let me in,” he huffs out before he can be locked out.

“Did you tell Reg’ that you would drop by?” He asks and pushes the door when Sirius tries to open it by force. “Stop that!”

“Look, I don’t know who you are but that’s-”

“What are you doing here?”

Sirius lets go of the door, turning around to spot his little brother at the bottom of the steps. Regulus almost glares at Sirius’ innocent motorbike before focusing on him.

“Reggie,” he greets with a genuine smile but his brother gets only more hostile by the clench of his jaw and furious scowls. “I’m— I’m home.”

Regulus loudly scoffs and angrily stomps up the stairs. He hasn’t grown much from a year ago and Sirius is relieved by it. It means that he hasn’t missed a lot.

“Home?” He repeats. “Home? This hasn’t been your home since you left 10 years ago,” he hisses out.

“Hey, I came back-”

Regulus faces him with a scathing glare and his hands curled into fists. “You came back for Alphard’s funeral! You didn’t even show up when he was sick and you knew.”

“It was complicated!”

“Because of course it’s always the worst for Sirius, isn’t it?” He spits back. “Did you think I was having fun?!”

“Re-”

“You wanted to leave this house and family, Sirius!” He exclaims. “That was your choice and you never came back on that, not even when I was alone here did you try to not be as egoist as you have always been!”

“Hey! You two twats!” Evan shouts before giving a pointed look at their surroundings. “You’re making a scene.”

“That’s what he has always loved to do,” Regulus spits out, roughly pushing Sirius out of his way to walk in the house.

“Reggie, we’re not done!” Sirius storms in too even if Evan clearly tries to close the door. “Look I’m here and you out of everyone should know why it was so difficult-”

“Because it wasn’t difficult for me?!” Regulus snaps, throwing his bag on the couch as Sirius follows him in the living room. “I warned you that Alphard was sick but you waited at the last moment to show up! Mother died when I was barely six and then Father just after you ran away. Alphard is the only reason why I didn’t end up homeless!”

“I was fifteen! And I didn’t know about Orion until two years later!”

“Yes and you didn’t try to come back or even talk to me, did you?” He hisses. “Makes you wonder if you weren’t actually running away from me.”

“From you?! Are you mad?”

“Oh, we have a guest?”

Sirius turns to spot a woman, a stark reflection of Evan but with longer hair and a kinder if not pure angelic look, walking down the stairs with a smile. Regulus sighs as Evan glances at her.

“Not the moment Panda,” he says.

“Who is that?”

“Hi, Sirius! I'm Pandora.”

“Reggie, who are they?” Sirius asks.

“They are my friends,” he replies with that annoying tone of his, “you know people who care about me.”

“You know perfectly that I care about you!”

“We live with Regulus.”

“Pandora!”

“What? It’s the truth and Sirius should know if he wants to stay here.”

“He isn’t staying.”

“I am!” Sirius argues and quickly steps around to face his brother who tries to escape through the living room connected to the dinning one. “Wait, did you change the place?”

“Alphard did. Not that you care.”

“Reggie, I’m trying here!”

“I don’t want to listen to you!” Regulus shouts. “And you get out of here before I call the police!”

Sirius freezes in surprise. “What? Re-”

“No,” he growls. “You aren’t going to waltz back in here like you did nothing. You left me and when I asked your help for Alphard-”

“I wrote to him,” Sirius blurts out. “Almost every week, we wrote to each other.”

Regulus shakes his head, slightly surprised. “What?”

The other two supposed roommates of his brother are clearly eavesdropping but Sirius feels like he is hanging off a thin rope - one that he doesn’t want to break in fear that it fully destroys what he wants to salvage with his brother.

“Since I ran away, we wrote to each other,” he explains. “I didn’t… I didn’t always have the money to write back. And somehow he always bloody knew where I was because I always got them without a hitch. I thought that you knew since he told me— everything about you.”

Regulus glares at him dubiously before his face ticks with a fleeting softness. He squints at the floor. It doesn’t completely break the tension but at least his brother doesn’t look up with eyes full of hell’s fire.

“Did you ask about me?”

“I did. All the time.”

His sigh is febrile and his brother straightens up, wetting his lips. “What are you doing here exactly?”

“To… move back in,” Sirius says. “I want to be around. And we both know there is enough space in this enormous house. Even with your houseguests.”

“Roommates,” Evan corrects. “We have been living here for almost a year.”

Sirius frowns at him and gets a slight pissed look in response. “Aren’t you the Rosiers? Why-”

“Sirius,” Regulus cuts. “Why do you suddenly come back? You barely stayed for Alphard’s funeral so why the sudden change? What are you hiding?”

He sighs, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, and lets his bag slip down from his shoulder. “I’m hiding nothing. I didn’t come back before because I still had stuff to do,” he explains. “Now feels like the right time for me.”

Regulus shakes his head with a dry snort. “Right time? Well isn’t that great.”

“Reggie, I’m really serious about this. I’m not coming here on a whim,” he insists. “Just give me a chance.”

Sirius hopes that his long trip hasn’t made him look like a monster but he feels his tired muscles pulling at him to just drop. His mind has been heavy ever since Alphard died - not many people showed up to his funeral and that’s why he hesitated to even stay there because he couldn’t truly hide in a thin crowd. Regulus outweighs his fears and disgust and Sirius really wants to act like a better brother and be here for him. He has wondered how Regulus managed to still live here, in this house, but Alphard has been a great influence on him. Better than Sirius.

“Well, you haven’t even joked about your stupid name so this probably means that you grew up a bit, ” Regulus almost chuckles. “I can’t kick you out because the house also belongs to you, per Alphard’s will. Just clean after yourself.”

Sirius looks at Regulus a bit speechless and even takes a few steps ahead, offering a hug but his brother just shakes his head.

“Oh, that’s great! The more, the merrier,” Pandora cheers.

At the refusal, Sirius clears his throat and turns to look at Pandora and her twin. He vaguely remembers them from their old family meetings but he didn’t know that they were this close with Regulus. Still, at least Regulus wasn’t completely alone because it doesn’t seem that he changed much. Still a bit prickly and unapproachable.

“Well, thank you for the welcome.”

“Good. I’m going to take a shower,” Regulus announces.

“Do you want me to give you a tour, Sirius?” Pandora offers. “We haven’t touched your room, like Regulus asked, but we did clean and change some things around.”

Sirius hasn’t changed much. His hair got longer and he has a bit of a stumble which Regulus hopes he will shave before he starts looking like a sexual predator. Pandora leads him out of the dining room, probably to start to explain all the changes they have made from the entry. Regulus exhales through his nose to try to keep his emotions under control.

“Alright there?”

“Great,” he sarcastically replies. “Just the best day of my life. Isn’t it clear on my face?”

Evan snorts and leans back to probably catch the sight of his sister with Sirius before stepping closer. “Hey if you don’t want him here then maybe-”

“No. Sirius probably won’t stay for long anyway,” he says and tries to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “I don’t know what’s going through his head and frankly I wish I don’t have to deal with it.”

“Long day too,” Evan recognizes and nods before crossing his arms. “Just go rest, I will start on dinner while you relax a bit.”

“Thanks.”

Regulus has barely seen Sirius over the last 10 years and he only saw him passing at their uncle's funeral like a mirage, an after-thought made to torture him. It could have been different if Regulus had actually followed Sirius that fateful night where he suddenly piled all his belongings into a bag and announced to Regulus that he was going to run away. Sirius opened the idea to him but Regulus had been a coward; better stay with the pain and misery he is familiar with rather than the unknown. Sirius seems to have managed fine despite everything. Although the motorbike doesn’t truly scream ‘stable and ready to stay’.

His brother coming back to Grimmauld Place is the last thing he ever expected. Regulus has enough with his part-time job and he has all the company he wants with Evan and Pandora. Perhaps she will tell their story herself while she shows Sirius the rest of the house - as if he wasn’t born here - but Alphard really tried to live up the place when he inherited it after Orion died. Their uncle was the only person from their family still around, outside from their cousins but he doubts that they are any different from their parents. Alphard was the exception, somehow. It gave Regulus a little bit of hope.

A creak halts his steps. Regulus knows every nook of this house, which means every groan and shift in the wood is known by heart— except this one. He is about to take his well-deserved shower but this calls his curiosity. The more time he has away from his brother and the upcoming talks or emotions, the better.

He climbs up the rest of the stairs before stopping at the last ones. The door of the attic is slightly opened and it leaves him puzzled as he has never managed to budge the door. Alphard also told him that it’s not worth the effort to open it and that he has given up on that; even if Regulus has seen him coming down from it several times but his uncle always said that it was to check on the door.

“Evan?” Regulus calls from the top of the stairs.

“Yes?”

Regulus glances down to see him on the ground floor, leaning to frown up at him at the second highest floor of their house.

“Did you or Panda go into the attic?”

“Er, no,” he says. “I didn’t even know we had one.”

Is the door broken? There could be an animal in there that scratched at it, probably a bat or even a cat. Regulus has seen a white one lurking around their houses and meowing at their windows. He has given the cat a bit of food or water but the white animal always tries to slip in. In any other place he wouldn't have minded a pet but Grimmauld Place is huge and he is worried that the cat might have stuck itself somewhere no one goes to.

“Do you want me to ask her?” Evan asks.

“No,” Regulus says. “No, it’s fine. Just curious.”

He could have easily walked away, to start on his warm shower, but instead he cautiously pushes the door completely open. It’s dusty and full of furniture that Regulus wouldn’t even know where to start to list them. The large round window also wears cobwebs but the moon hits it in the right spot to freshen it up, illuminating a path for Regulus to slalom through this mess. The night is clear with a full moon which is a rare occurrence for these two to happen together. Regulus feels like nothing can surprise him more than his brother wanting to reconnect for some obscure reason.

“Hello?” He whispers, hoping to hear some signs of the possible wild animals hiding here.

His steps lead him to a curious spot where his feet bob a bit on one large plank of wood. The moonlight falls right on it, just beside a wooden lectern. It takes a bit of strength but it’s clear that something is hidden under the floor. He manages to move the plank out of the way to find a large, really massive, book. Despite its hidden spot, it’s still covered by dust but it seems perfectly intact.

Regulus is surprised by the weight of it but he manages to pull it out. There aren’t many books that large and filled with so many pages. He cleans the cover page with a hand, expecting a title but he only sees a three-pointed symbol crossing a circle on a leather green front cover. He recognizes it from Alphard’s tattoo and some furniture in the house wears it too except that sometimes it was reversed. His uncle called it a Triquetra, a symbol of unity between three elements that might vary.

This could be Alphard’s book, maybe even grimoire by the mysterious look of it, though this would mean that his uncle had access to the attic and only wanted to scare Regulus off. He isn’t sure if he is lucky or not that he managed to get up there.

It doesn’t fully satisfy his curiosity. Regulus opens the book to the front page, ignoring the two ribbon markers, and faces a page that seems to have been hand-written and hand-drawn.

“The Book of Shadows?” Regulus reads. “That’s quite the invention, Alphard…”

His uncle was unemployed, comfortably with how large his inheritance was. He must have had enough time to come up with something like that. Regulus is probably not the one fit to enjoy this kind of joke though, unlike Pandora. There doesn’t seem to be a title although on the drawn scepter, crowned by a Triquetra, with a thin flag-like there is written Dominus Trinus.

“Latin?” Regulus scowls, remembering all the classes they had as if it’s not a dead language. “Dominus Trinus— Master Three? What kind of hobby is that?”

Frankly, and in the nicest way possible, it doesn’t surprise him that his uncle had this kind of fun. Pandora is also quite ecstatic about witchcraft and he is sure she would love to see that. The rest of the page is in English and his eyes quickly drift over the text before reading out loud. The words flutter over him as he stays comfortably crouched under the moonlight.

“Hear now the words of the witches, The secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of Gods are invoked here. The great work of Magic is sought.”

Regulus frowns a bit, amused.

“In this night and in this hour, I call upon the Ancient Power. Bring your powers to we sisters three. We want the power. Give us the power.”

The lecter shakes beside him but he quickly grabs it before it can properly fall. Another second flies where everything shakes, tingles before stopping. Regulus stares at the open page and hesitates turning it before scoffing with a laugh.

“Well, not a sister anymore,” he jokes, closing the book. “I hope you’re laughing from where you are, Alphard…”

“Hum, Reg’?” He startles at Evan’s voice before spotting him at the door of the attic, looking curiously around. “Damn, that’s a huge attic.”

“Yeah… I never went there until now,” he admits and puts the book down on the lectern. “Are you sure Panda never came here before?”

“I can ask her but I don’t think so,” Evan says. “Hey, did you feel that just now?”

“What?”

“Sort of a earth-quake…”

“Oh that. A truck probably drove by. This house is old after all.”

“Huh, well, Pandora would have loved this place so I doubt she wouldn’t have mentioned it to you or me.”

“You’re right. Better show that to her tomorrow, it’s already late,” Regulus decides as he stands up, brushing his knees with a hand. “Is everything alright? Is Sirius—”

“Still here. I just came up to ask you what you want for dinner,” he explains. “Your brother offered to pick up some take-outs for dinner. I don’t know if this qualifies as bribery but still, better take advantage of it. He is waiting on our orders.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Well at least we get something out of this. What kind of take-outs?”

“We voted for indian. Pandora has already requested two menus.”

Evan does not have many memories about Sirius Black but he has heard enough to picture his character. Their families were somewhat close, at least enough to share the kind of prideful dinners rich and powerful families prepared. That’s where Evan met Regulus and Sirius the first time, playing with them despite their slight age difference. Every year, Sirius Black got more troublesome whilst Regulus stayed quiet and amenable. Evan and Pandora liked them, the only relief from these endless dinners, though Regulus lost his vitality once Sirius left their home.

Pandora has always been rebellious in a way, though not quite like Sirius who would tug on his formal clothes like they are chains and be as insolent as possible. Thankfully his twin only had peculiar interests rather than fighting authority which saved Pandora from any rough punishment from their father. Evan doesn’t know much outside of what their father asked them to do and learn compared to her.

It’s rare but it happened that Regulus talked about Sirius, but nothing like the rumors or hatred from the adults. It mostly came out when he was sentimental and clearly missing his brother; Evan has probably only seen these glimpses because his twin and him got rather close over the years, especially since they moved in to help Regulus after Alphard’s death.

Regulus has told him that Sirius can be aggressive and obnoxious but that’s his shield - the only way he seems to know how to act since their parents never listened, that’s why his big brother only got louder each time. They still never listened. Regulus affirms that Sirius is actually soft and sincere but rarely ever showed his side outside from when they were by themselves. Though Evan can remember how nice Sirius was when they played, up until an adult stepped too close or called for them. There was always a chilling shift there.

The fondest memory Regulus seems to have is when he started to realise that he is more a boy than a girl and how Sirius has never questioned it and took it in stride, even protecting Regulus from their parents when they caught on his attempts to dress up more like a boy and even taking the fall when Regulus cut his hair.

It’s obvious that Regulus still cares about Sirius even if he is upset that his brother left him alone. Evan can see why Sirius ran away as he recently left his father’s side with Pandora because of how controlling and unsafe it has always been. He finds it rather brave of Sirius to run away so young but he also can’t imagine how he would have felt if Pandora ran away without him. Evan had always been worried that Pandora might be sent off marrying someone just for some business deal but surprisingly his father never appeared to try to separate them even for money. It’s probably the same thing for the Blacks, a weird feeling that they are still centuries back where what only matters is money and power.

Not that Evan really complains about the money. Regulus has Alphard’s inheritance, enough for them three he said, since Evan isn’t sure what to do now that his father isn’t spitting orders at him. Pandora always seemed to know what she was meant to do and rarely, if ever, showed any hesitation. They have covered their tracks but the fear that their father might show up is still here.

Despite their surprised guest, the night goes well. Sirius goes a bit overboard with the take-outs but at least they will have food for perhaps a day or even two for all of them. Pandora is the perfect host and Evan tries to participate, whilst Regulus stays mostly quiet as he observes his brother telling what he did ever since he ran away.

He has scrambled around, worked illegally because no one wanted to hire a teenager with no paper and more than often stayed in abandoned spots before finally landing at a tattoo shop where he managed to become an apprentice. He has finished it only recently which is why he didn’t come back earlier, though he doesn’t say if he plans to open shop here, before showing some of his tattoos to Pandora at her request.

“This is amazing,” she compliments, curiously touching the tattoos on his fingers. “Have you ever made a Triquetra before?”

“A what?”

Regulus frowns at Pandora before glancing at Sirius. “That’s the three-pointed symbol, even Alphard used it.”

“Oh, that one,” he recalls. “I have one actually, on my hip. I didn’t know where it came from but it was always on my mind so I did one.”

“You want a tattoo now?” Evan asks her.

She smiles. “Why not?”

Regulus’ eyes stay a bit on Pandora before he slightly shakes his head slightly, focusing on his food. Evan puts that on Pandora’s usual scheming even if she smiles wildly at him and snuggles to his side, which often means that she is planning something that might concern his twin. He knows her by heart and while she has always enjoyed physical contact, even something as small as holding pinkies, this is a clear sign that her brain is working overtime.

They both go upstairs after storing the rest of the food in the fridge to give Regulus some personal time with his brother. Evan can’t help but watch them a bit. They are slightly uncomfortable, with Sirius on the couch playing with his rings watching Regulus who doesn’t meet his eyes but still stays put. It’s probably a good sign. As long as they don’t start screaming at each other during the night.

“Don’t worry Evan,” Pandora whispers just before she walks in her room. “They both love each other. A bit of time and talking will help them.”

“I’m not worrying,” he argues because it’s always a bit annoying that his twin can read him like that when he can’t.

She chuckles and kisses his cheek with a last hug. “Sleep well. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

In his bedroom, he needs to pull the curtains close because the full moon targets his room like a lighthouse. Thankfully the night is peaceful, he fell asleep before even hearing Sirius or Regulus coming up to their rooms. Their bedrooms mirror each other.

Evan is amongst the last ones to wake up and finds himself rather cold so he puts a small wool vest over his pajamas to walk downstairs for breakfast. Pandora is in the garden, gathering flowers and preparing it for the winter despite the rain. She likes to explain what she does and Evan indulges her but more than often it drifts to witchcraft and what not. Evan likes to lean toward logic and numbers so he is a bit troubled when he can’t properly find what to say to her with all that knowledge; even if she promises that she is just happy that he listens to her.

“Hey, slept well?” He asks when Regulus finishes his coffee.

It’s always better to wait until he has drunk his daily cup to expect a good morning instead of a curse.

“Fine,” Regulus replies and brushes his hair with his hand.

“What about Sirius?”

He shrugs, putting a bit of water in his empty cup before letting it sit in their sink. “We talked. He wants to walk me to my shift as if I’m a bloody child.”

Evan watches him prepare a sandwich before trying to hear if Sirius is still upstairs but it’s quiet. “Is he staying here then? Have you two— made up?”

“I don’t know. Sirius hasn’t changed so I won’t hold my breath,” he answers before facing him with a slight frown. “Do you mind?”

“What? No. I’m happy if you are. Sirius seems to be a good guy, from what I have seen and what you told me before.”

Regulus’ lips tick but are pursed before they can smile. “Yes…” He clears his throat as he picks a part of the takeouts to put it in his bag for work. “Anyway, I already have to deal with Snape at work so I need all my strength to not end up dead or in prison so I’m going to leave before Sirius can follow me.”

“Please torture Snape, better go with a bang than nothing.”

Regulus chuckles and pours hot tea in his thermos. He has been working part-time beside his studies to have a bit of money since he wants to avoid touching Alphard’ inheritance unless it’s really needed. He has this one annoying coworker - Severus Snape - that always leaves Regulus in a foul mood.

“I will keep that in mind. I don’t know what’s Sirius is going to do today beside wandering around but tell him to fuck off if he starts to be annoying.”

He quickly leaves the house with a goodbye to him and Pandora. Evan finishes his tea as he wonders what he could busy himself with today. Perhaps he can offer Sirius some help if he has more stuff of his to move here; he has only come with one big backpack but there could be more. Pandora looks rather busy and wouldn’t mind another pair of hands, especially considering the downpour still going but she seems happy with her umbrella as she works in the garden.

“Did Reggie leave already?”

Evan turns to see Sirius walking in the kitchen, grabbing the empty cup beside the coffee maker. His hair is disheveled and he isn’t wearing a shirt. Evan isn’t that surprised that he is shameless and he looks curiously at all the tattoos. It’s an intricate mix of norse runes and alchemy symbols but it works perfectly as a whole.

“You just missed him,” he replies.

Sirius sighs. “Well I should leave him alone for a while. Probably.”

Evan isn’t sure what he should say. “What do you usually eat for breakfast?”

He shrugs and sits beside him. “Whatever there is. I don’t mind take-outs.”

“I was planning to make myself some toasts and eggs.”

He smiles. “Would love that.”

Cooking is still a bit of an experiment for Evan but he enjoys it. It’s rather satisfying that he can make something good for his twin, Regulus and now Sirius who compliments on his plate with a smile. They quietly eat as Sirius wanders through the kitchen, plate in hand, munching on the food while observing the kitchen. He is probably comparing the kitchen with his childhood’s memories.

“Do you like witchcraft?”

Sirius turns to him with a surprised tilt of his head. “What?”

Evan gestures to his tattooed chest. “Panda is really into it so I know a bit from what she explained to me. You have a lot of runes and alchemy patterns so I figured you must be into that too.”

“Oh, well not really?” He replies and puts his last fork in his mouth, quickly swallowing. “I looked into their meanings before doing anything but I just really like them. They called me sometimes.”

“Called you?”

“Yeah. You never had that before?”

Evan considers it as his eyes fall on the symbol Pandora asked about yesterday. It’s a bit familiar and the more he looks at Sirius’ Triquetra on his hip, the more appealing it seems. Still, Evan is unemployed and doesn’t really have the money to indulge into that hobby. Better leave that to Pandora.

“I mean I have read books and had Halloweens but outside of that, not really.”

“Hum… I don’t know if I believe in everything but it’s nice to think that magic exists.”

Evan snorts as he heads toward the sink to start washing the dirty dishes. “Really? Magic?”

“Yeah, don’t you think it would be great if we were wizards, witches or something like that?”

“I don’t know, if it made life less complicated then maybe yes.”

Sirius laughs before stepping closer to the sink. “Do you need help? I can do it if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. There isn’t a lot to do anyway.”

“See? If we had magic then you wouldn’t have to wash the dishes,” he comments with a proud smirk.

“In that case that would be great,” he drawls out with an amused smile. “Do you have plans today? If you need help to move or tidy your room I’m free. Panda’ too but she is organizing the garden this morning since winter is starting.”

“Thanks but I only had my bag,” Sirius explains. “I didn’t have a lot. Since I planned to come back to see Reggie, maybe stay with him too, I never really— had a lot of things on me. To travel light, you know?”

“Oh I see.” Sirius sometimes sounds like he was homeless for a while and never truly found a safe place to live but Evan keeps his questions to himself. “Hum I have some clothes if you want that I don’t mind sharing with you if you need. Reg’ is a bit smaller than you, though you probably will manage to find something of your size, but I’m not sure he will be happy if we go through his closet.”

Sirius looks surprised and blinks a few times before slowly smiling, an expression more tender, surprising Evan.

“Thanks… That’s nice,” he articulates and quickly clears his throat, a bit embarrassed. “I should have enough but thank you for the offer. I actually saved a bit of money so I might try some thrift shops today and dig through the house to see if there is still some of my old stuff that Orion didn’t throw away.”

“Maybe in the attic.”

“Attic? We have an attic?” Sirius asks, surprised.

“Hum yes? Regulus went there last night but maybe he didn’t lock it. I didn’t know about it either.”

“Huh… I will check it out. Thanks for the tip.”

Evan doesn’t try more small talk even if he wants to hear about him. Today he could try to clean the attic but he is worried about overstepping since Regulus hasn’t talked about what he wants to do with it. It’s also Pandora’s day off from the animal centre so he could go out with her if she wants to. He is curious about Sirius though but he figures that if he gets to know Sirius, maybe get along with him, then it might be easier for Regulus too. The whole Black family has always sounded like a mess to his ears. Regulus is not a complete mess, just human, so he hopes it’s the same for his brother. Hopefully Sirius is really trying to salvage what he can with him rather than messing around.

“I will see you later,” Sirius says, dropping by the kitchen, dressed up for the day with his black leather jacket.

Evan frowns. “Wait, do you have the key?”

“Yup, still remember where it was usually hidden. No worries, I will make a spare one today and put this one back.”

“Oh, alright,” he says and supposes that he cleared that with Regulus.

It’s not like Sirius tried to sneak in last night, he knocked on the front door. Plus Regulus is clearly happy even if he tries to hide it - Evan can spot the signs even if he has only complained about Sirius; if Regulus was really angry he would harass his brother like a clingy parasite and torment him with innocent looks.

Something catches his attention on the back of his Sirius’ leather jacket. Evan shakes the water his hands as he quickly walks to him.

“Sirius, wait.”

“What?” He stops at the threshold of the kitchen, turning around with his heavy boots.

Evan frowns and reaches out for the small lint. “You have some du-”

His stomach churns when he touches his jacket. Evan sees Sirius thrown against a wall with a hand around his throat. Whoever is choking him furiously is no one he recognizes but Sirius fights back the best he can before falling slack.

“Evan?”

He gasps, startling when he sees Sirius frowning worryingly at him in front of him. He takes a quick step back.

“W-what?”

They are back in the kitchen. No one’s hand is around Sirius’ throat and he looks perfectly alive. Whatever wall was slammed into him isn’t near them— it was darker.

“Are you… alright?” Sirius asks, glancing down at Evan’s fingers with the lint he picked up from his jacket. “You sort of went off for a second there.”

Evan swallows as he tries to understand what he just saw. It feels like he got slapped with a short movie in his face. “I what?”

“Did you get shocked?” He wonders, touching the sleeve of his jacket with a curious look. “It looked like it. Your face is all scrunched up.”

“Hum, maybe,” Evan blurts out. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

Sirius isn’t convinced and his hands hover around him with a frown. “Perhaps you should sit down– you really look shaken up.”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

Evan forces a smile. “I’m good. Maybe I just need to eat a bit of sugar or something,” he quickly explains and turns to the teapot, checking if he needs to make more.

That was really weird. It felt a bit too real but Evan tries to convince himself that he really just needs a cup of tea to wake up. Maybe he overslept and that’s why his brain is a bit messy.

What was even that scenario? Sirius was choked, probably to death, by a man he has never seen - he can still see the profile of that person as clear as the pot he puts on to boil fresh water. Perhaps he has seen this man before but forgot. He has read somewhere that all the faces you see in dreams are one you have seen once even if you don’t notice it.

“Evan?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised but his heart still jumps like a jack-in-the-box. Sirius smiles carefully at him when he turns to meet his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I need to ask— are you and Reggie..?”

Evan’s eyes widen and shakes his head. “What? No. No!”

“I just had to ask.”

“Reg’ is like a brother to me. And to Panda, really,” he promises. “Just brothers.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius chuckles. “I’m just happy that Reggie found some people to trust here. That’s why I was curious about you and your twin. He told me the same, that you’re family at this point and that you both needed a place to stay… But I figured that he also wouldn’t share about his private life if he ever had one.”

Evan laughs a bit. “Well, that’s true.”

He is still reeling from that short weird experiment even after Sirius left. The tea calms his nerves but he still can’t come up with a proper explanation about what happened. This hit him like a flash, a punch to the guts, and he doubts that he actually got somewhat shocked from such a contact. Plus Sirius would have felt it first if his jacket had static electricity since he put it on himself. There is also no shock that could make Evan imagine this whole– scene. Maybe he dreamt it during his sleep and only remembered now.

Pandora notices his mood but he lies, telling her he just got a headache. She burns a candle for him to relax. He can’t focus on something else though but doesn’t want to bother her more. Pandora goes upstairs to order everything that she has gathered from the garden and he considers helping even if it means just drying petals, plants or crushing them. A knock on the front door cuts his momentum and Evan leaves the couch to open it, figuring that a distraction is always welcomed.

“Hello there,” their post-woman greets him with a smile. “It’s a downpour today, uh?”

“It is.” Evan chuckles. “Hope you don’t have too much work Nancy. Only ducks would be happy to work with that weather.”

“Hah, don’t worry about me,” she says. “I’m more than used to it.”

Nancy is perfectly covered with her cap and hood but still, she must have been out under the rain and the cold for at least an hour at this point. Her cheeks are a bit flushed already.

“Do you want a warm drink?” He offers.

“That’s kind of you but I have my thermos so I’m all set to survive this morning,” she chuckles with red cheeks. “Here is your newspaper and there is also this package for you.”

“Oh. That’s new,” he says when he spots the package in one arm as she takes out the newspaper from her coat to place it on top of it.

Regulus or Pandora never mentioned that they are expecting something. Evan takes the package from her hands, brushing one with his, and sucks in a gasp when he feels the same slap as before.

Nancy walks away from him, heading toward the street with a last look at Evan as if to say something before her foot slips on one of the steps. She falls hard, grimacing and shouting in pain.

“Well, gotta go,” Nancy says, looking flustered by how she glances down to her feet, already walking down the first step before Evan even digested what he saw.

Except that just like what blinded him— she shifts on her feet to look at him as she continues to walk down. She is about to speak when her foot lands on the step Evan saw her fall on. He jumps before he realises, the package falls heavily on the floor, and he manages just in time to catch her by her waist. She yelps a bit, surprised, and flushes red before scrambling on her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes!” She exclaims, staring at the stairs as she almost runs off. “Sorry and thank you!”

Evan frowns at her and offers a small wave when she quickly looks back but she only rushes away before realising that she missed her car, running back to it. He looks down at the step where he saw her fall— almost since Evan saved her from that.

“What the hell was that?”

This has felt exactly like what he saw for Sirius and this time it was clearly going to happen if Evan hadn’t moved. Did he see in the future for a second there? Or did he just manage to guess that this step was dangerous for Nancy– no way that’s possible. His hand brushed hers and he was hit by the same sudden force and ringing in his ears, just like when he touched Sirius’ jacket.

“Evan? Is everything alright?”

He turns to see Pandora at the entry of Grimmauld Place, only realising now that he was standing under the rain, before quickly walking back inside.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just— the headache.”

She chuckles. “Did you think the rain would help with that?”

Evan licks his lips and picks up the package and the newspaper before closing the door. “Maybe.”

Sirius has the worst luck ever. There aren’t many people who will tell you that they went to a thrift shop to find one of their exes, who you haven’t talked to over a whole year, when they have just moved to the capital. Sirius has actually hoped to surprise Marlene, finding her by chance in London since she moved here two years ago, but of course he can’t end up meeting his best friend but instead his ex.

Everything went well before that. He wandered through London, to the spots he was the most familiar with to check what had changed or what might be new and catch his attention. He got lost in his memories and soon lunch came but he opted to look at another thrift shop first; in case he needs to have a comfort meal if he finds nothing. Of course now he won’t get any of that since his ex showed up out of nowhere.

“You look,” Gideon smiles nervously, “you look great Sirius.”

He frowns at him, tapping a finger on his crossed arms. “What are you doing here? I’m perfectly aware that your band isn’t playing any time soon in London.”

“I heard from your boss that you decided to move here.”

“Here are your teas,” the waitress blurts out and puts their cups on the table with a nervous glance at Gideon.

“Thank you.”

He smiles pleasantly at her and Sirius opts to roll his eyes not too hard. Of course one of the members of the Weird Sisters would be recognized in London. Thankfully she doesn’t ask for an autograph or a picture, maybe because Sirius is in a bad mood.

“I sure hope you didn’t follow me here Gideon,” he warns, taking his cup in hand. “We have broken up over a year now.”

“That’s because you said you wanted to focus on your apprenticeship,” he argues.

“And the fact that I didn’t call didn’t ring a bell?” He scoffs back.

Gideon tilts his head with an amused smile. “Come on Sirius. I just want to talk, alright? Plus we had something great going on, didn’t we? I figured that we could continue once you’re free and less stressed about getting a job. Not that you need one.”

It’s true that it was what Sirius had planned. Gideon has always been a great boyfriend even with his busy schedule with the band but— Sirius also completely forgot about him. It’s not even that he was hard-working on becoming a tattoo artist but he also didn’t find the desire to call him again. He has good memories of him but nothing made him think of contacting him ever again.

“Well you could have wrote me a letter instead of being a stalker.”

“Stalker? Sirius, you're overreacting.”

He squints at him. “How did you even know in which shop I would be? Did you also follow me home?”

“I do have your address but I was also shopping for myself, if you haven’t noticed my bag.”

Sirius squints at the bag laying at his feet, half-considering stealing it just for the sake of it since he didn’t want to be followed by Gideon through the shop. At least he gets a free drink from that.

His phone rings. It’s only a text but he decides to act like it’s the most important thing at the moment— praying that it gives him an escape from this messy break-up that is about to happen. It’s not even like he promised Gideon that they would ever go back together.

From 020 XXXX XXXX:

Hey Sirius, its Evan

Reg gave me your phone number

Sorry I didnt think of asking you first but I need to call you if you are free at some point?

“I have to take that.”

Gideon frowns. “Is it your brother? Everything alright?”

“Yes,” he retorts. “Just need to call him very quick.”

He smiles, ever so pleased, but Sirius recognizes it as the one he wears around his fan. It would have worked on him before— after all that’s why Sirius sneaked in the backstage to snog him, but he has moved on. Sirius decides to return it with a sharper touch, a fair warning that they aren’t going to play boyfriends anymore.

Evan immediately picks up the phone. “Sirius?”

“Yeah. Is everything alright?”

“You’re free right now?”

Sirius glances at Gideon, still watching him, even when the waitress shyly approaches him now that he is free.

“As a bird.”

Evan sighs out. “Okay, hum… This might sound crazy but just answer me if you can, alright?”

“What? What’s going on?” He frowns.

“Do you know a man with long hair? Like shoulder-length?”

Sirius keeps his frown but tries to not let anything else appear when he glances at Gideon and his hair. He can think of several people if he isn’t honest but his ex-boyfriend is right in front of him.

“Yes..?”

“Is it light? Like not too much. I’m not sure,” Evan mutters. “But it’s a bit curly. A small beard too.”

Sirius leans back in his chair and shifts the phone to whisper. “And a moustache?”

“Yes? Yes!”

“I think I know who you are talking about.”

“Really?” Evan bursts out. “Are you serious?”

“I am always Sirius.”

His joke must have landed because he gets no immediate reply.

“I’m trying to be s— I’m just surprised.”

“What are you on about though?” Sirius asks with a quick look around just in case someone else has followed him.

“I thought I was crazy! Do you have a picture or a name?”

“Er, yes but now I’m a bit… Look, what is that about?”

Evan sighs. “If I told you, you might think I’m insane.”

“About what?”

“Just— if you know them try to avoid them, alright?”

Sirius purses his lips and notices Gideon observing him. He shifts to hide his phone. “Is everything alright?”

“Hopefully yeah,” Evan says, still as cryptic and with his voice going up and down with nerves. “Also you’ve got a package.”

“I got what?”

“A package arrived from the mail. It’s a bit heavy and it has your name on it.”

Sirius takes a deep breath but he openly glares at Gideon who slowly frowns in confusion. “From who?”

“Er, it says— let me check.”

“Sirius?” Gideon asks. “Everything’s fine?”

“Me? I’m chipper but you on the other hand I’m trying to decide.”

“What?”

“-Crumb!” Pandora shouts over the phone. “It says Gideon Crumb! Sirius, why didn’t you tell me that you are friends with one of the Weird Sisters’ members?”

“That’s him!” Evan exclaims just as Sirius hangs up.

“Gideon,” he growls.

“What? What happened S-”

“Oh don’t try to play the nice guy now!” Sirius hisses, standing up. “Did you bloody lurk around my house, you psycho?!”

The whole cafe falls quiet and the waitress that came over gasps with wide eyes on them. Gideon quickly takes a look around before swallowing and facing Sirius with a calm face.

“Sirius… I don’t know what you’re talking about but I didn’t go anywhere near your old place. I only sent a pack-”

“You sent a package? Whatever for?” He growls, standing up.

“Sirius, please, sit down.”

“No I’m not. Because you’re supposed to be at the other side of the country, where I left, and yet somehow you followed me all the way here! Without asking me first!”

“You’re making a scene-”

“You bet I am when I got a bloody stalker!”

Gideon stands up with a glare. “Stop calling me that! I only wanted to offer you something because you left before I could congratulate-”

“We broke up a year ago! How come you didn’t move on?!”

“You asked me to wait for you!”

Sirius scoffs with a shake of the head. “I never did. I told you I want to focus on getting a job before anything else and that I couldn’t follow you to all your concerts anymore.”

“I didn’t mind that!”

“And then I realised that maybe I didn’t want to get back with you,” Sirius says, ignoring him. “The fact that I didn’t reply to any of your texts or calls over a year didn’t make that clear to you?”

“That’s why I came here,” Gideon points out. “To talk!”

“I don’t want to talk with you,” he argues and glances at his unfinished tea before glaring at him. “Don’t even try to come near me again.”

“What? Sir-”

Gideon is a bit taller than Sirius so he easily leans over the table to grab his arm, which he immediately fights off with a sharp jerk. Sirius puts nowhere to strength to send Gideon flying into the table behind him.

The whole cafe roars in surprise and the waitress rushes to Gideon’s side as the others try to salvage the plate and cups that fell when he landed on the table. His ex is a bit shaken up but probably not as much as Sirius who is pretty sure that he saw Gideon's feet off the ground. He hasn’t even touched him but it’s apparently enough for every eye to turn to him like he is some monster.

Sirius decides that he really has the shittiest luck ever as he quickly runs off the scene. Only he could have a clingy ex, possible stalker because otherwise how could Evan even know what he looks like, and get banned from a cafe on his first day back in London and is now running under the rain like a maniac. If Gideon hadn’t tried to stop him leaving then maybe he wouldn’t have been pushed into this table! Not that Sirius even tried to really humiliate him or anything. He only wanted Gideon away.

Regulus figures that he is hallucinating. Although there aren’t many people rushing through the street without even an umbrella when it’s pouring cats and dogs. There are less people walking around with only a leather jacket on their back and long black hair though. Thankfully Sirius hasn’t stopped by the small bakery Regulus is working at, but it was certainly him rushing like a bullet.

Evan hopefully didn’t ask him for Sirius’ number just to send his brother to pester him at work. Pandora could have come up with that idea and stole his phone for that.

To Evan:

I think I just saw my brother running past my shop You better have not told him about where I work

From Evan:

What? Really?? I swear I didn’t How did he look? Fine?

To Evan:

What do you mean I dont know he was running Evan?

Regulus frowns at his phone when he doesn’t get a reply for a few minutes. Evan is the one who asked out of nowhere for Sirius’ number without specifying what for; it better not be some kind of crush on his brother because Regulus will poison everyone then himself just for that thought. But he figures that it is only because Sirius moved in and they probably need to chat about the house or something like that. Still, it’s starting to worry him considering Evan’s texts.

“Your phone, Regulus.”

His jaw tightens but Regulus exhales the curse climbing up his throat as he glances at Snape glowering at his side.

“There is no customer,” he retorts.

“This doesn’t mean you can be rude.”

Regulus seethes quietly and turns back to the few tables busy in their small bakery. It’s a bit busy, especially with the amount of rain drowning London since this morning, but everyone is served and happy so Snape is just being a pain in the ass.

Evan has commented on how it doesn’t make sense that someone like Snape is working here when he is everything but sweet in a bakery shop; even Pandora doesn’t like him and she can feel sad about the trash forgotten by people: ‘we hate them when they are merely the victims of people lack of love’. Sirius would probably try to punch him the moment Snape opens his mouth and Regulus decides to store that idea for later.

It’s obvious that Snape has a problem with him, though the reason is a mystery, but Regulus wouldn’t be surprised that someone like Snape has a problem with his ‘gender’. Morons, terfs, racists and pigs - of course not the animal - are synonyms for each other after all.

One of their regulars is missing and Regulus is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t show up with the new groups of people. Remus seems to have come to this bakery before Regulus even started working here. He is always asking for a hot chocolate and an espresso on the side plus whatever catches his eyes from the daily fresh pastries or salty snacks. Regulus and him have started a sort of system whenever Snape starts to act up, even though he isn’t Regulus’ superior or anything else, with glances and ticks on their lips. Regulus only knows that Remus lives not far and is a teacher which explains the tons of papers he brings if it’s not his usual books. Usually the weather doesn’t bother him but he supposes that today the rain is too much to venture outside.

Dorcas comes out of the kitchen with a long trail full of small cakes ready to be bought for the afternoon. Regulus helps her as she glares at the trail.

“Snape can’t even bother to help,” she hisses.

“This isn’t new.”

Frankly Snape should have been fired a long time ago. He barely even bakes or has any skills to serve and help customers, at least the decorations around the shop are pretty to look at compared to Snape. Still, somehow he is still sticking around to torment them.

“We better get ready for more people with this weather,” Dorcas says with a squint at the large windows of the shop. “You’re lucky you’re done in a few.”

“And Snape finishes at the same time as me so you will be free from him,” Regulus reminds.

A few people come to the counter to order. Regulus is still worried about his brother and how weird Evan was. He could at least answer to him but thankfully work helps him to focus on something else.

“By the way,” Dorcas says when all clients are satisfied and Snape is still in the back. “We didn’t have the time to talk because of our local pest but what was that about your brother? I didn’t even know you had one.”

Regulus almost wants to say that he also didn’t know considering that Sirius disappeared without a look back. He could have followed him, that’s true. Still, he isn’t sure yet on how to digest the presence of Sirius around.

“Yes… He left a long time ago and he suddenly decided to come back,” he explains. “I’m the first one surprised to be honest.”

“Is it a good or a bad thing?”

Regulus shrugs with a glance at her. “I’m not sure yet. Hopefully it’s good.”

He has missed Sirius over the years. When their mother died and then their father, Regulus had expected that his brother would come back upon the news; there would be no one else to hurt them after all. Sirius never came back though, even at Alphard’s funeral he barely stayed. Regulus had been probably lucky that he spotted him before he disappeared.

A mother and her little boy come in to pick a cake. Regulus handles it while Dorcas cleans some of the tables. Her son is very excited, chattering, almost putting his hand on the glass before his mother quickly stops him and explains to not do it. They pick a cake for her wife’s birthday, one with hues of blues, and Regulus offers to write down her name on it and add a little bit of decorations.

“Mum, mum, look how pretty it is!” Her son cheers, bouncing on his feet as Regulus puts it in a box after showing his work. “Yum!”

His mother chuckles and pets his hair with a smile at Regulus. “Thank you very much. I didn’t think of ordering until now.”

“We always have cakes around for this kind of last-minute emergency,” he assures with a smile because he can’t help but feel proud that they picked his cake. “Hope you will enjoy it.”

“I will!”

“Shush, don’t shout here,” she cautions. “You can carry it home if you promise to be careful.”

“I will, I will,” her son promises with an avid look at the box.

Regulus snorts quietly before putting it in a bag because of the rain and offering it to him. “Keep it flat, alright? Don’t squish it.”

“Yes, sir,” he chirps with a determined look as he slides his hands under the box.

Regulus hears someone chuckling and his eyes can’t help but widen at the literal— Adonis waiting behind the little family; who smiles when he sees that Regulus noticed him, eyes grinning behind his round glasses. There is no way Regulus can handle the sight of a fit, warm-toned lad, when he is reaching the end of his shift with a pestering Snape and with the sudden shock of his brother’s return.

“Car-”

The boy gasps, tripping on his untied shoelaces when he tries to walk away. Regulus immediately focuses back on him as the cake slips out of his grasp. He reaches out, managing to grab it with a relieved sigh. Thankfully, Regulus has stayed near the lower table so he could easily lean on it to have the extra-length.

“Are you…”

He stares at the unnerving silence. The boy is still falling but frozen in the movement. Regulus slowly realises that no one else is breathing beside him.

His eyes wander to all the people, stopping mid-movement as they are about to eat or drink. Dorcas stays still at a table, with a hand reaching for an empty cup but never touching it, but her head is turned toward the counter as she must have seen the catastrophe coming. Regulus slowly exhales through his nose. The rain is still pattering on the windows, not disturbed, by what’s going on.

“Hello?” Regulus articulates.

Even the Adonis is frozen, eyes on Regulus, and the clock has stopped clicking. This could be an elaborate prank but— the boy is falling but frozen in mid-air. No one could ever do that and his mother’s face is petrified with a sudden panic and her hand reaching out empty. Regulus wets his lips and takes another look around. The bag with the cake is in his hands, moving if he shifts it, which would mean that everything beside him suddenly stopped. It’s insane, complete nonsense, but Regulus is scared of doing the wrong thing.

A car drives by, outside. The bag shifts to only one of his hands before he slowly leans toward the frozen boy. Whose mouth is parted in surprise and his eyes are heavy with surprise but he doesn’t blink or breath. Regulus grabs him by his hood stuck in the hair and the boy restarts falling.

“-eful!”

“Ah!” The boy squeaks, weighing down in Regulus’ hand who holds him from falling on his arse.

His mother catches him by his arms before realising that Regulus grabbed him first. She looks up in surprise as Dorcas quickly runs to their side upon seeing what happened.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes,” the mother says, still in shock but probably nowhere near the one Regulus is still trying to understand. “You are incredibly fast. Thank you.”

“You saved the cake!” Her son cheers before glancing down at his mother's gaze.

Regulus lets go of him since he is back on his feet and glances at the cake before looking at them. “Er, yes. Good reflexes.”

Dorcas observes him before smiling at the family. “Just a small scare.”

“I will carry that,” the mother quickly says, taking the bag off his hands once she checks on her son. “Better be safe than sorry.”

“But mu-”

“I told you to tie your shoes,” she argues with a pointed look at his pout. “Next time you will know better. Now thank them and say goodbye.”

“Thank you mister,” he mumbles out with a bitter look at the cake his mother keeps out of reach. “Goodbye.”

Regulus forces a smile as they walk out. Dorcas frowns at him and quickly steps around to get behind the counter, putting down the dirty dishes she had fetched.

“Reg’? You alright?” She whispers.

He shakes his head before blinking. “I honestly don’t know.”

She looks at him up and down before glancing at the people in the bakery, living and moving like nothing happened.

“You’re done in ten minutes, just go. I can deal with that. You look like you might faint.”

Regulus wets his lips before nodding. “Thanks.”

He stays quiet as he rushes to the locker room to change himself as fast as he can. He can’t help but replay what happened in his head— this couldn’t be a prank. Except that there are also not many options outside of that.

“Leaving already?” Snape asks when Regulus leaves the locker room for the exit in the back.

Regulus ignores him and quickly walks under the rain. Did time actually stop? Why was he the only one moving? Just like the mother, he reached out to catch what he could. But she was as frozen as everyone else.

The rain gets furious but he barely feels it as he hurries back home. It’s not far but his mind is running faster than he can, barely recognizing the turns as his own voice rings in his head: I call upon the Ancient Power.

Regulus pinches himself as if the cold and a raindrop falling right into his eye aren’t enough to make him groan in pain. He is perfectly awake and aware of what’s around him. What happened in the bakery— this looked like magic, which shouldn’t exist and Regulus has grown out of that phase a long time ago. Except that time is often an old, ancient, power isn’t it? That would fit what the book said. But this can’t be real.

Regulus shakes his head and takes out his phone to check his texts. There isn’t anything from Sirius or Evan so he opts to try to call them. His phone coughs like a dying machine into his ear and he quickly needs to take it away from his face because of the buzzing. It doesn’t look dead though as he can still go to his different screens and texts,but there is no connection. Regulus harshly huffs through his nose in frustration.

Grimmauld Place is in his view soon enough, just as a thunderbolt strikes startling him. He quickly walks inside, shutting the door behind him. The light is weak and he frowns at it but his focus is quickly on the cold and the weird smell.

“Evan? Panda? Sirius?”

Pandora walks out from the kitchen, draped with a heavy sweater, and a frown that clears up when she spots him.

“Reggie!” Her cheer quietens abruptly. “Hum… This is maybe a bad time.”

“Bad time? Why?” He asks. “Did you turn off the heat? And are you cooking again? You buy the new pots this time.”

“Er, well. It's not me.” She glances around the house. “We don’t know. It stopped by itself and even the electricity jumped on and off.”

“Is it Reg’?”

“Yes!” She replies to Evan who quickly walks in the dining room to see Regulus taking his shoes off in the foyer.

“Are you alone?”

Regulus frowns and puts his coat on the rack. Evan doesn’t look quite comfortable and it’s not because of the cold. Something is clearly going on and he is hit with another wave of anxiety as he sees again the whole scene of the frozen bakery.

“Yes? Why?”

The white cat in his arms is perfectly white and its grey, silver eyes slowly blink at Regulus; who recognizes it as the one who tried to sneak in many times, meowing and pawing at doors and windows. It looks quite regal and soft but Evan’s face doesn’t seem to take that in account because his face is twisted with a grimace.

“You… You will think that I’m insane.”

“No, you’re not,” Pandora says, stepping closer to her twin.

“What is going on? Don’t tell me that we are adopting this cat now.”

“Wait, that’s one thing,” Evan says as he comes closer to him. “It has a collar.”

“I could have guessed that it belongs to someone already,” Regulus drawls out. “No cat can stay this white in the streets of London.”

The cat meows back and stretches her neck as Pandora reaches for its dark green collar and the medallion on it.

“Look,” she insists. “It’s a Triquetra.”

It is one. This doesn’t help Regulus though— he has this itching in the back of his brain that screams Ancient Power and Give us the power as he recalls the feel of the Book of Shadows in his hands. Logically, this cat could have belonged to Alphard and this would explain why it kept sticking to Grimmauld Place or the choice of the medallion. Except that his uncle would have told him about that cat or at least mentioned to Regulus that he needs to take care of a pet when Alphard had gotten sick.

“And?”

“Something really weird is going on,” Evan insists as he lets the cat jump down. “But there are too many coincidences.”

“Coincidences?” Regulus asks curiously just as the cat rubs itself against his legs and scampers off in the living room. “Is it about Sirius? Or the house apparently falling apart?”

“Yes, maybe. I’m not sure.” Evan groans slightly when he gets a frown and rubs his eyes before he looks up. “Something happened to me. Really weird— which I wouldn’t have considered real if Pandora isn’t convinced that it’s magic.”

“Did you freeze people?”

Pandora gasps at him just as Evan watches him with a stunned face.

“What?”

“Did you stop time?” She asks with wide eyes.

“Time?! What do you mean time?!”

Regulus clears his throat. “Didn’t— that’s not what happened to you?”

“What the hell?” Evan articulates. “I saw into the future or something like that. Nothing as cool as bloody stopping time! How did you do that?!”

“I— I was working and this child almost dropped a cake,” he explains with his voice weakening. “Just everything stopped, people, Dorcas, the clock and the child mid-falling. Literally stuck in the air while everything outside the bakery and I still moved.”

“This is happening,” Pandora whispers with wide eyes.

“You saw into the future?” Regulus realises with wide eyes. “What do— is that why you asked for Sirius’ number?! What’s going on?”

“I saw him getting choked! This morning!”

“Choked?!” He shouts. “What do you mean choked! Why didn’t you tell me this first!”

“Because I didn’t know if it was real or not!” Evan argues with his hands flying around in confusion before he pushes his braided hair back. “Look, I spoke with Nancy when she dropped off the mail and I saw her slipping on one of the steps. I think that’s because I touched her hand. I thought I was going crazy but then it really happened in front of me so I stopped her from getting hurt.”

“You have the premonitions!” Pandora suddenly speaks out, far more loudly than she ever did, before she turns and grabs like a wild tornado Regulus, “and you, you got the freezing power!”

“The what?!”

“This means Sirius has the last one!”

“Panda, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Did Sirius do that to us?” Regulus asks. “Where the hell is he?”

Pandora’s eyes are huge, sparkling in excitement, as she looks at them like they are precious. “I never thought I would be here for that!”

“For what?”

“For the Charmed Ones!” She cheers, bouncing on her toes. “The power of three! All the witches know about it.”

Evan splutters. “The what now?”

Regulus stares at her. “Power of three..?”

“Panda, are you serious? I can get behind some crazy things but I’m not sure I can follow you there.”

“Yes! I am!”

“Wait,” Regulus blurts out. “Are you talking about what I found in this grimoire? It talked about the power of three.”

“A grimoire?!”

“You have one?” Pandora blurts out. “Where is it?”

“You’re not serious,” Evan articulates. “A grimoire? Witches?”

“It all exists!” She insists. “You felt it yourself, didn’t you? You saw into the future! And Reg’— you froze the bakery, right? There is no other explanation than magic.”

“Wait a second-”

“It all coincides perfectly! You said it yourself Evan,” she exclaims, “it’s too many coincidences. The house, the cat, what happened to the both of you– Sirius came back yesterday, this must have triggered the magic!”

“The attic opened up,” Regulus realises. “It never did before until now…”

“And you found a grimoire there?” Evan asks with a dubious frown. “Witchcraft?”

“You saw it yourself, Evan,” Pandora argues. “You got visions!”

“I read the first page,” Regulus recalls. “There was a bloody spell or something! I thought it was a joke.”

“Wait, I still don’t get it,” Evan says as he turns to Pandora. “Panda, I know you believe in these things but why aren’t you the one with powers then?”

She shrugs but her smile doesn’t diminish. “I don’t know. What I heard is that the Power of Three, to be Charmed Ones, is a prophecy about three sisters from the most powerful bloodline of witches.”

“Sisters? We’re men!”

Regulus frowns at Evan. “And we aren’t related by blood. Panda, are you sure-”

“I am!” She promises with a fierce look. “Listen, you have all the powers they are rumoured to have! One has premonitions, the strongest defensive magic, another can freeze and the other can move things with their minds!”

“Why the hell didn’t I get the moving thing?”

Regulus shakes his head. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe it-”

“Believe in yourself,” Pandora says and takes his hand. “You went into the attic for the first time yesterday, right? Where you found the grimoire, just when Sirius came back! Why would you read the incantation if you weren’t called to it?”

Evan stares at them in disbelief but Regulus can, just like him, only slowly swallows all of this information. The attic never ever opened up until now. Regulus could have easily closed the door last night. He had enough on his plate with Sirius’ return and his decision to stay with him. Except that Pandora is right. Regulus has been compelled to visit the attic and find that one plank of wood hiding the grimoire away.

“How do you know all of that?” He whispers. “You never spoke about that before, the Charmed Ones and all.”

Pandora shakes her head with an excited squealing. “Because I thought it was a legend unlike fairies or werewolves! Everyone believes in the Charmed Ones but they apparently have never existed yet or at least that’s what is said. I would have never thought that this would be you three!”

“Woah woah, wait a second,” Evan exclaims. “Fairies?! Werewolves?! Panda, are you seriously a witch?!”

She scoffs at him. “Of course I am. Though I don’t have powers like you or maybe I will get one now! If you have witch blood then so do I!”

“I’m going to faint.”

Regulus glances at him. “Wait— didn’t you say that Sirius gets choked?! When?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Well bloody know!”

Pandora shushes them. “Alright, take a deep breath. Premonitions aren’t always happening right away.”

“What about the postwoman?!” Regulus shrieks. “Didn’t that happen just after you saw it?”

Evan croaks mutedly with a small grimace. “I-”

“When did you see it?”

He sighs. “This morning when Sirius left. I touched his jacket and bam.”

“This morning?!” He shouts in horror and quickly steps back as he takes out his phone. “He isn’t answering me and— bloody hell it’s already mid-afternoon!”

“Sirius knows who is the guy I saw in that– thing in my head,” Evan points out. “That’s why I asked for his number!”

“Did you tell Sirius that he would get choked?”

“Are you mad? I didn’t think any of that was serious but better be safe than sorry,” he admits. “But Sirius knew him and this man even sent Sirius a package!”

“A what now?” He asks, quickly texting Sirius.

Pandora nods. “We opened it, just to be safe, but it’s only clothes - new and when I looked the name up well it’s actually a member of the Weird Sisters!”

“The band?”

“Yeah, Gideon Crumb. That’s him who I saw and I checked with pictures.”

“This doesn’t answer my question if he already choked Sirius or not!” Regulus barks out and tries to call Sirius. “He could have been running away from him when I saw him! And my phone just doesn’t work!”

“But did you see someone after him?”

“I don’t think so…” Regulus worries his lips as the call cuts by itself. “Why is this phone not working?!”

“I think it’s because the whole house is wonky. Ours stopped working too.”

Evan glances at Pandora. “What? Is that your power?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Evan can’t you see if Sirius is alive or something?” Regulus asks. “Do your magic— or whatever!”

“I have no idea,” he admits with a sorry look. “I don’t even know how to make it happen.”

“I think we would know about Sirius in danger,” Pandora says. “Plus he has his power too so he must be able to protect himself. Evan also warned him about Gideon which means that perhaps it hasn’t happened because of that!”

“This is too many ifs,” Regulus shouts in frustration and grabs his coat. “I’m going to look for him!”

“Reg-”

“If this twat just came back to die the next day and forces me to do his bloody funeral then I will kill him myself!” The door stays as still as a fortification even when he tugs it with all his wrath. He turns around to look at Pandora and Evan. “What is wrong with it?!”

“Weird things have been happening all day,” Evan says with a nervous glance around. “Maybe it’s because of what you read?”

“How could I know that this grimoire was real?!”

“We should go check it,” Pandora cuts with a determined nod. “There must be spells and potions to help us and Sirius. Reg’, I’m sure that Sirius is fine.”

“Yeah and he has this big power of moving things around, doesn’t he? If we have– two of them and Panda doesn’t then Sirius is the last option,” Evan points. “That sounds more useful than mine.”

Regulus’ jaw tenses before letting go of the door’s handle. “Why is the door not moving?”

Pandora shrugs. “I suppose the house must be saying something? If your whole bloodline was witches then the house must have developed with some magic too. Perhaps we need to stay here.”

“Okay, this doesn’t explain why I’m somehow getting a power when it’s supposed to be for three sisters.”

“Bloody hell,” Regulus spits out and walks up to them with a rude gesture to the stairs. “Then let’s go look at this grimoire before I lose it!”

“How did you not know that your family are witches?” Evan asks as he follows him.

“What about you, uh?”

“It’s in our blood one way or another,” Pandora explains. “But it’s true that it’s strange that you didn’t have your powers until now… Or you Evan.”

“Well if it’s the power of three or whatever then maybe that’s because Sirius only came back now?”

Regulus sighs. “Somehow Sirius always manages to make it about hims-”

Pandora bumps into him when he stops in the middle of the second row of stairs with a small gasp. Regulus can feel Evan slowly tugging him back but he almost misses the step since his eyes are stuck on his mother.

Walburga Black stands in front of her portrait, in the exact same stance, but her eyes are stabbing right into him. She is paler and her clothes have the same strange hue as the rest of her but transparency doesn’t stop her aura to slowly dig her nails into his heart.

“[ ],” she hisses and all the windows ring in pain, “still playing as a boy.”

“Holy crap,” Evan gasps out.

“Reg’”, Pandora whispers.

“Mother?”

Her whole body suddenly jumps ahead as a sudden wind pushes itself in his body. Regulus almost slips down the stairs but he is held up.

“Everyone betrayed me!” Walburga shouts. “But I will get the powers that are mine!!”

“We need to ru-”

“Shut up you little bastard!” She shrieks.

Pandora is the first one who is thrown down, breaking a part of the stair’s balustrades, as Evan tries to catch her before he is hit himself in a wall and tumbles down the steps. Regulus stares at his mother, hovering in front of him with a horrid grimace, terrified. He is stricken when she sharply jerks her hand.

His head rings loudly against the wall, barely feeling his body as he plummets down the stairs. Windows shatter around them, covering the furious rain, and a panicked hiss rushes by. Regulus covers his head when he feels something falling on him.

“Regulus! We need to run!” Pandora shouts, pushing him up on his feet, before shrieking in surprise when another portrait explodes above them. “Evan! Evan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he croaks out, standing up at the bottom of the stairs and his eyes widen when he spots them. “Get down!”

Regulus slips down a step as he and Pandora throw themselves down to avoid the myriad shards of glass flying into the wall beside them. He looks up to see a cabinet and broken pieces of wood, balustrades and a whole window spinning around his shrieking mother.

“The kitchen,” Pandora blurts out. “We need to get to the kitchen.”

He helps her stand up and quickly runs down the stairs as Evan rushes off when he becomes the target.

“Blasted children!” Walburga shrieks. “You are the bane of my existence! You don’t deserve my gifts, my powers!”

“Bloody stop her!” Evan shouts from his hiding spot in the living room. “Freeze her!”

Regulus reaches the ground floor with Pandora when he remembers it. He looks at Walburga, moving her hands around like whips and with a full cabinet thrown at them. Pandora shouts in surprise just as Regulus gestures at it with both hands.

“Holy shit,” he blurts out when the cabinet stays still in the air just like everything storming around his mother. “This is real.”

“That’s mine!” Walburga screams.

Pandora throws herself at Regulus just in time as the cabinet explodes in pieces along with the wall behind them because of a striding burst of wind. He gasps out as everything restarts around them.

“Wait— she didn’t freeze?”

“The kitchen!” Pandora screams.

The cat loudly hisses toward Walburga, following them as they scramble to the kitchen. Pandora opens a cupboard as more things seem to be cracked or shattered in Grimmauld Place.

“If Orion hadn’t killed me everything would have been perfect!” She screams like a dying whistle. “This bastard couldn’t do anything by himself and then begged me when I came back to kill him!”

Regulus crouches down when all the electronics explode in the kitchen. Evan joins him with his eyes wide on Pandora who keeps throwing all the cupboards open as the white cat walks back and forth anxiously under the table.

“Did your mother just say-” He trails off with a panicked look at Regulus. “That your father killed her and then she killed him?”

Regulus shrugs with a crazy chuckle because he is definitely losing his mind here. “How would I bloody know that?!”

Evan pushes him suddenly and jumps back on his arse, just before the buffet behind them crashes down to where they were. Regulus is as shocked as him.

“I found it!” Pandora exclaims and rushes to them with the jar of salt.

“Did you see that too?” He asks and Evan shakes his head, pale.

“Just a feeling.”

“You think you can hide from me?!” Walburga screams and all the windows explode in pieces. “I made you and I can destroy you if you don’t give me what is mine!”

The cat hisses and jumps at the highest point of view when his mother flies in the room with a look madder than it ever was, leaving the kitchen’s door shattered. Pandora throws salt in Walburga’s face before she barrels too close to them. She screams in pain, face literally in flames as she fights blindly drifting back.

“How did you do that?!”

“Salt works against ghosts,” she explains, shocked. “At least that’s what I heard.”

“Then make her disappear!” Regulus shouts.

“It only holds them back! We need a spell or a potion to stop her!”

“Try to freeze her again! Quickly!”

Regulus swears and throws his hands open toward his mother but she keeps moving. He tries several times before looking around to see that the cat is frozen mid-hiss.

“It doesn’t work on her.”

“Maybe because it’s a ghost,” Pandora breathes out.

“That’s such crap!”

Walburga fusses, staring at them with her eyes still flaming. Her whole body flickers with energy as her face grows more and more difform.

“How dare you attack me? Me! Your mother! Without me you would be nothing!”

“Take some salt,” Pandora says, “quickly and we run to the attic for the grimoire! We don’t have a ch-”

Regulus holds his breath when he hears the backdoor clicking open. Grimmauld Place’s back street is not well-known and he can’t even remember if he ever showed it to Evan and Pandora. He watches the door opening with hesitation and Sirius walks in with a frown at his phone.

“Urgh, you won’t belie-”

“Get down!”

Sirius doesn’t understand Regulus’ scream right away, even if he crouches a bit, but his eyes almost jump out when he sees their mother hovering like a storm in the kitchen before the kitchen table is thrown at him.

“Sirius!”

He shouts, jerking away, just as the table is sent back to Walburga who is unfazed. It breaks when it hits the wall, bringing down a painting.

“What the hell?!” Sirius screams, stepping back terrified with his eyes glued on the ghost. “Walburga?!”

“Sir-”

Regulus jumps on his feet with a handful of salt in hand to throw it on their mother, cutting her hissing. Sirius is speechless but Regulus doesn’t let him breathe and rushes to him.

“Snap out of it before she kills us!”

Sirius’ breath is shakingly exhaled and he quickly glances with red, fragile, eyes between him and Walburga - who screams harder behind them. Regulus quickly glances to see Pandora and Evan throwing more salt at her before he turns to his brother.

“Hurry!” Pandora shouts, hand in the pot. “We don’t have a lot!”

“What the hell is going on?” Sirius gasps out.

Regulus grabs him by his arms. “Sirius. No time to explain but you can throw stuff around, like the table-”

“What?! That was me?!”

“Yes! Now we need to get to the attic alive to find this bloody grimoire and send her to hell or whatever!”

Sirius shakes his head speechless just as Evan rushes to them.

“Can we go before she manages to kill us?!” He exclaims. “Try to freeze her or-or move her whatever!”

“Freeze her?” Sirius repeats, paling. “What’s happening?! Is that really Walburga?!”

“Who cares about that!”

“We need to run now!” Pandora warns, throwing the pot at Walburga but it only goes through her.

Regulus doesn’t give him the chance to ask anything more, dragging Sirius by his arm as they run out of the kitchen with the cat meowing after them distressed. His brother quickly catches on the run though.

“I need to know a little bit more!” He shouts.

“You’re the Charmed Ones!” Pandora cheers.

“Not the time!” Evan argues. “We need a bloody grimoire to kill or chase her off!”

“A what?!”

“We’re witches!” Regulus explains. “Maybe!”

“What’s happened to London?!”

The amount of salt seems to have slowed Walburga down enough because they are left at peace even when they reach the stairs.

“Wait, the front door!” Evan shouts, stopping at the first step. “That’s him!”

“Gideon?!” Sirius exclaims.

Regulus leans down to see a man looking around their destroyed foyer and the rest of the corridor before he quickly hurries when he catches their sight.

“I just wanted to check on you but then I heard all these noises– are you alright? What is going on? Why is everything broken?”

“Get the bloody hell out!” Sirius shouts.

“Get out!” Pandora agrees.

“Get him out,” Regulus hisses. “Throw him out or whatever!”

The front door slams closed. Gideon spins around with a small scream. Grimmauld Place shakes and heavy furnitures fall as the cat panics and twists around their feet to bound downstairs.

Walburga shoots through the air like a bullet, hitting straight on Gideon who is thrown unnaturally against the floor with a horrifying scream. Pandora gasps out and Regulus takes in her wide eyes when she weakly shakes him. The scream dies in a snap.

“Gideon?” Sirius whispers out.

“We need to go,” Pandora says with a nervous shake of her head. “She is in him.”

“What?”

“Sirius, let’s go,” Regulus says and grabs him but he stays put. “Sirius!”

“You.”

He freezes at the clear voice of their mother. It’s not an odd apparition anymore - he is back to his childhood where he neared the walls and made sure that he never breathed too loudly. Gideon raises but his face is twisted, a scream of murder and an awaiting wrath that will be unleashed.

“She is possessing him?” Evan realises in horror.

“You have always been my biggest mistake Sirius,” Walburga hisses as Gideon’s skin seems to jump as his body moves like a wild chained animal. “If I had known that Caradoc would have given me two children then I would have killed you at your birth!”

Regulus’ eyes widen, taking in his paralysed brother and the stunned faces of Evan and Pandora. “Isn’t Caradoc your father?”

Evan swallows and nods. Walburga finally gets on her feet, on Gideon’s feet, stumbling before a sound of bones crack echoing.

“I only needed three of you. But all these blasted men tried to fool me,” she darkly articulates with a twitching snicker. “I will get the powers that I created and then get rid of everyone who tried to cross me!”

She grabs a broken part of wood before rushing to them. Regulus startles with his hands out.

“Putain,” he blurts out when she is frozen. “It worked!”

He turns to them, relieved to see them still breathing but still stunned. Pandora shakes herself out of it after a second and quickly glances at Regulus before grabbing Evan and Sirius.

“The attic!”

They make the right move even if the first steps are clumsy before they dart upstairs because Walburga restarts moving, slowly, before screaming in abject horror before they even pass the first floor.

“Are you sure about it?!” Evan shouts.

“The book should have something!”

“We don’t have a choice-” Pandora shouts in surprise as the balustrade bends toward her, almost trapping her against the wall. “She still has powers!”

Regulus freezes his mother’s ascension but she fights through it, only stopping a second before slowly taking up her natural speed.

“Sirius, throw her down the stairs!”

“What?! I can’t!” He screams back after they barely avoided flying shards of glass. “That’s– she is inside Gideon?!”

“Just do what you did with the table!”

Sirius shakes his head distraught. Regulus swears under his breath and freezes Walburga again before running up the last stairs.

They manage to get in the attic with the cat running after them. Evan quickly closes the door and hesitates to stay next to it but quickly follows Regulus who darts to where he left the grimoire: on the lecter.

“What do we do?”

“There should be something against ghosts,” Pandora explains but doesn’t touch it. “I hope it’s a spell because I don’t know if we can do a potion.”

“Tell me Gideon is alive,” Sirius says.

She grimaces, lips croaking emptily before she purses her lips. “I– I don’t-”

They are thrown back, sliding violently against the opposite wall of the attic, just below the round window. The lecter topples and a large of the furnitures are blown away, leaving a direct path for Walburga who threw the door open.

“You’re fighting your own mother?” She spits out. “I know what’s best for you all foolish children. [ ], you were the one that could have made it work but Sirius poisoned you, made you a runt just like him with a sick, sick brain-”

“Shut up!” Sirius snaps, standing up with a glare before throwing his arm out.

Walburga is sent against the left wall, crashing down on dusty furniture.

“She only needed a real body,” Regulus realises.

“Can we get her out?” Sirius asks with a glance at them.

“Panda?”

She shakes her head, glancing at the grimoire laying not far from them. “I’m– I’m not sure!”

Evan groans out in pain as he throws himself to reach out for the heavy book. “I don’t bloody care.”

“Sirius!”

Walburga jumps on Sirius, tackling him against the wall before starting to choke him. He wheezes, fighting with his hands but her body doesn’t even stop. Regulus quickly tries to freeze her again before rushing to them when it doesn’t work. Walburga isn’t bothered by their scratching or the punches. A whistle cuts the Sirius’ gagging who has started to sob with the pain.

“Sirius! Use that!” Evan shouts and tosses the thick grimoire toward them.

Regulus steps back just as Sirius squints at it. The book is suddenly flung at Gideon’s head, properly knocking him off.

“I didn’t say to use it like that!” Pandora shouts.

“That’s what I bloody saw!”

Sirius falls on his ass, loudly gasping for air with tears trailing down his face. Regulus crouches at his side, heart beating painfully, as he sees the red digging marks on his throat. He startles when Walburga stands up violently but before he can try to freeze her again - Gideon is violently thrown out of the round window. Regulus gapes before noticing Sirius’ raised hand while the other goes at his throat.

“Sirius,” he whispers, shaking. “Are you okay?”

“This fall better kills her,” he hisses out.

Pandora grabs the book before joining their side with Evan. “She is still a ghost so I’m not sure-”

The grimoire jumps out of her hands, pages flipping with no end before stopping on a page.

“The power of three spell?” Evan reads just as Sirius roughly clears his throat and coughs.

“This should work!” Pandora exclaims. “You three need to chant it, this should get rid of her!”

“Chant?”

“You need to– to be together to cast it! The three of you, your three powers, that’s what it means!”

A harsh cold sweeps in, violently blowing goods in one piece or more against the walls of the attic, as Walburga reappears in front of them with her body aberrantly formed. Regulus can’t help but think that it’s not even the worst she has ever been.

“I don’t need a body to remind you of who decides in this house!”

Regulus tightens his jaw and grabs Sirius’ hand and Evan’s as he jerks at the opened page of the Book of Shadows.

“You too Panda.”

Sirius glances at him warily before glaring at Walburga. Evan follows their leads as Pandora shuffles closer, grabbing onto their arms. Their mother shakes in fury as all the dust gather around her like a sand storm with shards and broken furniture.

“The Power of Three we now decree, The Power of Three will set you free, The Power of Three will destroy thee!”

The outcry shakes Evan to his core, still rocking him into an unpleasant lull, even after the ghost of Walburga imploded in front of them. She stared at them with a spiteful authority and wrath that still stink in the air, even when the rain is slowly drowning the attic through the broken window.

Sirius is the first one to move, clumsily getting on his feet as he stumbles to the large hole left in Grimmauld’ Place attic. It’s already night and the clouds smother the moon but there is no mistake of the body laying down at their steps. They all see Gideon sinking under the rain but they don’t say anything even when Sirius walks away at the first exclamations of their neighbours. Soon enough comes the police.

“This man attacked you in your house?”

Evan glares at the aged policeman. His shiny badge spells out Barty Crouch Sr. and he has asked them many questions before Evan decides to take the lead. He has almost finished a master in law so he figures he can give them a way out of this mess. Gideon is dead, whether it’s from the fall or Walburga is another question, but there is no way they can tell them the truth.

“Listen, we already told you everything. We are as shocked as anyone else of what happened,” Evan says, trying to not give anything out by mistake. “He knew Sirius but we never opened the door. He came inside without asking before falling from our attic.”

Crouch Sr. eyes him, moustache twitching, before glancing up at the broken window. Pandora tightens her grip around his arm and Evan squeezes her shoulder. Sirius is still quiet, behind them, with a grim look and the white cat in his arms as Regulus is still treated by a doctor from the ambulance.

“And you four live together?”

“Yes.”

“Since how long?”

“A year. It’s– a family’s house.”

“Do you want a surveillance team? If you believe someone else might be after you,” he offers.

“No,” Sirius spits out.

The policeman purses his lips but nods and jots down on his notebook. “Well, then we will contact you later once we have a clearer idea of what happened.”

“Yes, thank you,” Evan clips.

He watches them before leaving. It’s a mess of their neighbours and many reporters, especially once the word got out that it’s Gideon Crumb from The Weird Sister. Grimmauld Place is in a rough state and they have to replace all the windows. Evan can spot that Regulus is already looking for someone to do that by how furiously he looks through his phone.

“I don’t like him,” Pandora whispers.

“Who?” Evan asks with the same tone.

She gestures at Crouch Sr. who has joined his men to discuss. He can share the feeling but can’t help but worry more about Walburga. The Book of Shadows hadn’t let them breathe even when they swallowed the shock, pages furiously turning and settling on the one: How to Vanquish the Evil Spirit of a Witch.

“Let’s go,” Regulus says once he is free. “The cab is here.”

“Now?” Evan asks, stumped. “We– do you know how suspicious this will look like if we leave now?”

“We don’t have a choice, do we? She will come back,” he hisses out. “That’s what the grimoire said, right?”

Pandora nods with a sorry look. “If we don’t burn her bones…”

“I will go fetch alcohol,” Sirius roughly says. “And the lighter.”

The cab doesn’t ask them any questions despite the scene of police cars and ambulances but Regulus slips him more money than necessary just in case. They are in rough shape despite the ambulance’s care but his body still aches. Regulus has already contacted his bakery that he will take his sick leave, at least for two days.

“Wait here, please,” Evan requests and the driver nods even if he glances curiously at the cemetery’s entry.

Sirius leads them and Pandora tries to keep his speed, talking quietly, but Evan doesn’t catch what she says or if he even answers. He has briefly said that Gideon was his ex and apparently followed him here in London to ‘get back together’. There is nothing he can think of to help or even say but hopefully Pandora finds the right words. They still have to digest how they are apparently related, now witches and not just random ones. Regulus’ phone rings and he sighs out before taking it.

“Yes?” He huffs out, eyes on Sirius and Pandora heading toward the Black Mausoleum. “What? Who are you again?”

Evan hears ‘James Potter’ and that he is apparently a handyman, who has been contacted by one of the people Regulus tried to call, and ready to come by to figure out what they need. Pandora and Sirius are waiting for them at the door of the mausoleum and Regulus quickly agrees for this Potter to come by tomorrow to fix a list of what needs to be repaired and the cost.

The mausoleum is huge but they easily find the burial of Walburga Black. She is laying in a companion crypt with Orion Black and Evan wonders if he even expected her to kill him; he wouldn’t be surprised that she told the truth after all of that. His and Pandora’s father never spoke about their mother, not even saying if she died or left them at birth, but they have no memories or even a name to look for. They are two years younger than Regulus which would also fit with her own time of death, since Regulus supposes that Orion might have killed her for cheating and carrying other people’s child– they are big on incest in our lineage.

“How do you open that?”

“I can do it,” Sirius says, putting the two bottles of alcohol in Pandora’s arms.

“Wait, you can’t just send it against the wall,” Regulus cuts him. “Just open it a little or something.”

He glares at him but it quickly softens and Evan thinks he might cry before it glares at the crypt. His hand jerks shortly and the seal snaps, sliding the crypt open without falling with its own weight. Evan gags at the smell and steps back but Pandora immediately peeks inside.

“It’s empty.”

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