#drew devlin

[georgiapeach30513]

A Beautiful Nightmare, Part 1

Summary: Ryan Ackerman was hired to find you. That's all he wants to do. And he did. He found you exactly where you parents said you would be. But what exactly did he get himself into? A religious compound that is more cult-like than he anticipated. All the missing people aren't missing. They're in a trance for him. Reverend Drew Devlin is the devil himself. And you are going to change their world.

Pairings: Ryan Ackerman X Reader, Drew Devlin X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, slapping across the face, implied drugging, paranoia, naked body and not remembering of what happened, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

This town is dead.  

There is nothing more for over a hundred miles.  He’s not even sure how it can be considered a town.  It’s a desolate area that has been consumed by feminine and wasted away.  Leaving only this pathetic gas station.  

He is sure that this is some form of cruel joke.  If there wasn’t desert and asphalt as far as the eye could see he would worry about a masked murderer lurking about.  Alas, there’s nothing.  Stretched out either way.  A place to pass through and forget it ever had a zip code.  

He growls shoving the gas nozzle back into place.  The fucking pump isn’t even working.  Wiping the sweat off his brow, he struts into the convenient store, hoping that there is another working gas station just out of his vision.  He’s fucked if there isn’t.  

Walking in, he hears an immediate slapping of skin on skin.  A gasp of confusion and hurt.  “You know your fucking place,” a slimy voice whispers out as he looks around the rows of religious flyers and candles with a man on them.  This isn’t a normal convenient store.  There’s not a damn thing convenient about this place.  

“Excuse me!” He raises his voice, looking to the counter.  There you are.  Clasping a hand on your cheek with glassy eyes, and you look away from him.  Your sight is on the counter, looking meek as you try to avoid him.  

“What do you want?” A tall man with long blond hair that is about four days past washing asks.  Angrily he looks at you, and then back at him.  “Well?” 

“You don’t have gas.” 

“And?” 

“This is a gas station.” 

“This is freedom for your eternal soul!” That escalated quickly.

“Yeah.  I think…I think I’ve heard enough.  Is there a gas station close?” The man shakes his head no, but the new intruder to your hell hole looks around your body.  Smiling as he tries to see your face.  “Are you okay?” 

“She’s fine.  There’s nowhere else.” 

“Then I need to use your phone,” he shakes his head no.  “You’re giving me no options here.  I need gas.  If there’s nowhere else close I need to call someone to bring me some.” 

“We don’t like strangers,” this man is starting to piss him off.  

“My name’s Ryan.  Ackerman,” Ryan smiles at the other man.  He looks the same age as him.  But what he really wants is to actually see your face, and talk to you.  “So what is it that I need to do?” 

“Get lost.” 

“I think you’re a bit confused.  If I leave I won’t make it far,” this conversation is going nowhere but in circles, and it’s starting to piss Ryan off. 

“Then you won’t be our problem.” 

“Is she your girlfriend?” Ryan sees you shake your head no, but the man laughs.  A cruel laugh.  “Wife?” 

“What do you want?” The man growls out, clearly annoyed with this line of questioning.  You’re a sore spot. 

“Gas!  I want gas.  I need gas, and then I’ll leave you alone,” the man looks between you, and Ryan, and then back again.  This man isn’t the one in charge, but judging by your panicked stare, neither are you.  “Don’t you want to show Christ’s love, and help someone out?” 

His head flicks towards you, and you finally look upright.  Keeping your eyes on the man, Ryan sees a perfect handprint on your cheek.  Bastard.  He’ll pay for that one.  “She’ll get you sorted, but you have to take her home.” 

“Is this where you ambush me, and murder me for my organs?” 

The man’s eyes go wild, and he laughs maniacally.  Throwing his head back to chuckle before the laugh stops immediately, “No.  Have a blessed day,” that was truly horrific in the most bizarre way.

“Yeah, blessed be the fruit,” he murmurs, turning to walk back towards the door.  

Before you can get away from Shuggie, he grabs your arm, and pulls you closer to his body, “Remember your position,” he spits at you before pushing you away.  Shimmying your shoulders, you put on your best smile, and walk out the store.  

You gulp as you see him leaning against his pickup truck, squinting into the sun, “Unless you’ve got gas, I don’t know how you can help me.” 

“I do,” you wave him to follow you as you walk behind the store.  Glancing over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you to the back shed. 

“Is this where you murder me with an ax?” 

This man and murdering is strange.  He’s an odd one even if his eyes look awfully familiar to you.  A kind face, and you feel as if you can trust him despite his murder talk, “No, I have no intentions of murdering you, Ryan Ackerman,” opening up the shed he whistles at the gas cans, and you grab one.  “What is your obsession with being murdered?” 

“You’ve never heard about the people who get lost out here, and never to return?” 

“Uh huh,” getting close to him, he reaches his hand out for the gas can.  Touching you in the process, and you glance up at his eyes.  Beautiful silvery blue eyes with too many questions in them.  “What?” 

“You’re one of those people,” you let loose of the gas can, and walk back towards his truck.  He isn’t asking, he’s telling you.  So he must know exactly who you are, but he didn’t know just how important you were for ‘Him’.  “You just live out in the desert?” 

“Something like that.  Put the gas in the car, Ryan Ackerman,” walking around his truck you sling open the passenger door, “And quit talking.  There’s ears here,” slamming yourself into the seat of the truck, you fold your arms against your chest, and stew.  Who does he think he is coming out here?  Is he out here specifically for you or is he passing through? 

Ryan gets into the truck, but holds his hands on the steering wheel for too long, “Drive.  He’s counting.” 

“Who is counting?” 

“Shuggie.  Just drive,” you want to scream for him to move faster.  Every second counts.  Every moment that you’re not where you’re supposed to be according to the plan.  He is supposed to know where you are at all times, and this is deviating the plan.  “Drive!” 

“Where am I going?” 

“There’s only one way.” 

“Are you in trouble?” He asks as he puts the truck into gear, and starts rolling down the road.  You look into the mirror, and notice Shuggie walking out of the store, and following you down the road.  Pulling out his phone to call ‘Him’ of course.  

“Not if you drive.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“It’s not for you to understand.  Just take me home so he won’t get mad, okay?” 

“If he gets mad will he hurt you?” You shake your head no.  He is a bit more complicated than that.  But you can’t explain to him.  An outsider.  “Can you help me understand?” 

“Take a right up here.” 

“There’s — that’s where that old church is.  There’s nothing else, but death and decay.” 

“Just take a right,” Ryan rolls his eyes, but does as you say.  The creepy feeling about being murdered doesn’t linger now that it’s just you.  “I’m not missing by the way.” 

“Your family has no idea where you are.” 

“But now I’m found,” there’s something unsettling about how you say that.  Both pained and wistfully.  “See,” you point at the window, “Up ahead.  People only see what they want to see.” 

Ryan’s eyes go large as he sees a compound of sorts.  Metal buildings spread across the property in front of him.  “What is this?” 

“Home.  Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Do I have a choice?” 

“We always have a choice,” you respond creepily as you glance out to the side.  It is getting about dinner time, and you’re not late.  “I have to go get ready.  Say you’ll stay, and no, you won’t be murdered,” you giggle, turning to look at him, and his blood freezes.  It’s not just your pictures posted all over the internet, he feels like he actually knows you.  

“Will you stay?” 

“Just for dinner,” that’s all you thought you would stay as well.  Then you were found.  Found by ‘Him’, and he wrapped you up in his glorious arms, and he’s never let you stray again.

“Mmm, once the sun goes down, you’ll want to remain here,” he pulls into a parking space, and puts the truck into park.  “It’s dangerous out here at night.” 

“I feel you’re trying to keep me.” 

“So what if I am?” You giggle again, and jump out of the truck.  “Hector!  My friend, Ryan Ackerman, needs a room.” 

“Hey, daddy!” Ryan gulps getting out of the car, nodding to a man in a light blue suit.  “Daddy, this is my friend, Ryan.” 

“Sweetheart, what have I told you about talking to strangers,” everything about this man makes Ryan’s skin crawl.  It’s unnerving how his motions and even his smile seem calculated.  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ryan.  I’m Reverend Drew Devlin, but you can just call me Drew.  What brings you out to these parts?” 

“Umm, ran out of gas.” 

“That seems to be the usual around here.  You run out of gas and the good Lord brings you right here into our loving arms,” gross.  There’s no way that this guy is for real.  “Now, this little one really should be running off and getting ready for dinner.  It’s a special one for you, darling,” Drew gives you a wink, and a too quick pat to your ass.  It’s too low, but too quick for most to even notice. 

“Kyle?” 

“Ryan.” 

“Ryan, what exactly do you want with my maiden?  I know you didn’t come all the way out here to take her away from me have you?” Ryan shakes his head no.  Confused on what exactly is going on right now.  Daddy.  Maiden.  “You see, our community runs on people being honest with one another, so I need to know exactly what your intentions are with my maiden.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I ran out of gas, and she offered to give me some if I brought her home.” 

“And in doing so, you might have brought yourself home,” he gets a sinking feeling in his gut.  These words are not from a normal preacher.  

“Is this a cult?  What is happening?” 

“This,” Drew holds his hands out wide, and spins in a circle, “Is a religious community, and you are our guest.  Please, follow Hector to your room to change.  It’s a big night tonight.  My maiden is committing herself to the community.  Now won’t you be a peach, and change out of your unfortunate clothing for the glorious occasion.  She can only commit herself once.” 

Ryan nods his head, and follows a young boy away from the creepy ‘reverend’.  This is most definitely a cult, and that man is most definitely a creep.  He’s confused about the title of daddy.  Your mother and step father are looking for you.  But have you wound up with your biological father.  Did they send Ryan on a wild goose chase to find you, and then he finds you here.  In the arms of a creepy cult.  

His biggest fear is his rescue mission may have in fact become a rescue for two.  It won’t be easy for him to get out of here.  Especially since you’re with him.  You seem important to the leader.  His personal little bit.  He shivers at the thought.  

Ryan blinks his eyes hard.  Everything blurs together.  Moving in odd patterns of flowy white.  One moment he’s watching you walk down the tables in a white dress, and the next he can’t hold his up as he watches swirls of people.  Moving all around him in such loud laughter.  

Undulating your hips as they scream out praises to their Lord, and thanking their fearless leader.  You bounce around in white.  But your dress becomes muddled with your skin until it’s the same shade as your body, and the soft movements of your skin seem more prominent.    

He can’t keep his eyes off your smiling face, and your crown of flowers.  The way your curves dip and flow with the music.  Watching as your body recoils with every spin you take.  He shouldn’t be able to see these details of your body with such a flowy dress.  

His eyelids grow heavy as you dance around Drew.  Standing in front of him, you let him hug you from behind.  And it must be such a beautiful hug because your head tilts back, and you scream out the praises of his name as he touches you low on your stomach.  Too low.  It’s almost pornographic the sounds that you make pressed against Drew.  

His head dips to your ear, and Ryan wonders what he’s whispering to you.  Is he telling you how beautiful you look?  Or is he giving you instructions on how to cut his head off with an ax.  Whatever it is, your sights move to Ryan, and he can feel your giggles.  This place really is bringing out the best in you.  

“I’ll make you proud, daddy.  For us,” you say before filtering away from him.  Everything in Ryan is boneless, but his body feels heavy.  Every bit of effort for him to blink.  But he sees you.  Draped in golden light.  You look prettier close up.  

Prettier than your photo.  You are something special.  Something else entirely.  Your skin feels so soft and immaculate up against his body.  “I’ll come and find you later,” you whisper in his ear.  “Only you can save us.” 

“You need saving?” that gets his attention.  He doesn’t know you, but he knows something is off.  He’ll protect you.  He’ll do what he has to.  

“We can change the world!” You bounce around him, looking bathed in that intoxicating light again.  He’s floating.  Floating on air, and all in your mind.  “I’ll find you, but I need you.  Promise me you’ll help.” 

“I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything?” 

“Whatever you desire,” you wink as you pull his hands up to your chest.  Letting him press his hands against your body for him to feel your rapidly beating heart.  And skin.  So much skin.

——

Ryan groans, wiping away the sleep from his eyes.  His body feels spent.  Sore in places he didn’t even know existed.  Mind cloudy as he tries to figure out where the hell he is, and why his arm feels so heavy.  

“Mmm,” he attempts to sit up, and can’t move.  Looking at his arm, he gasps.  “What — what the hell?” 

No wonder he couldn’t move.  You’re laying on his arm.  Peacefully.  And naked.  Curled into him.  He remembers you.  Remembers being hired to look for you.  But where is he?  “Hey,” he whispers into your ear.  You look immaculate in this morning sun.  Beautiful.  You’re freezing laying on top of the covers.  He says your real name out loud, and your eyes flutter open. 

“You’re awake.  What happened?” 

“I think — I think I’m naked.” 

“Yeah, a bit,” he has a cute smile.  Slightly crooked, but his cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink.

“Oh, dear,” your voice goes up an octave as you try to cover up your body.  “He’s not going to like this.” 

“Who?” 

“Reverend Drew.  I’m not — oh no.  No!” Your hands start searching your body, feeling for sore spots.  “Did we have sex?” 

“I — I don’t know.” 

“He won’t like this.  You — I-I-I…I need to leave.  Yes.  I wasn’t here.  I wasn’t naked.  Nothing happened, okay?” Ryan isn’t sure that anything did happen.  But he doesn’t even know how he got here.  How you got here.  But you’re naked as the day you were born, while he’s very much still clothed. 

“Are you like a virgin or something?” 

“Or something,” you respond, confusing him even more.  “Ryan, I like you,” you didn’t know him.  But you like his smile.  You love his arms.  And he has really pretty eyes and adorable freckles.  “Can you keep a secret?” 

He would do anything to keep you safe.  He nods his head eagerly.  It’s not just your looks, it’s reading your file.  You’re his perfect woman.  You smile sweetly at him, still nude as you lean in and kiss him softly on his lips.  It’s the most innocent and needy kiss he’s ever felt.  Your mouth lingers on his as you start peppering kisses on his lips.  Running your tongue over his mouth before he opens up. 

This has nothing to do with a kiss, and everything to do with you.  He’s unsure of what happened last night, but he’s sure of right now, and how you’re so sweet kissing him.  Moving your body closer.  He returns the touch of your tongue with his own, and sparks fly.  It’s an odd feeling. A weird obsession that he wants to keep you.  Save you. 

You asked him to save you!  You.

Your lips taste like berries on a summer evening.  He reaches towards your body, and he almost recoils when he feels your bare skin, but you just whimper, moving closer.  He wants to pull you into him, but he doesn’t know you, and doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries.  But you’re desperate for him.

Crawling onto his lap, your body starts to move over him with so much frenzied desire.  He mewls out your name, and you pull back from him panting.  “Are you okay, Ryan?” 

“Are you?  You asked me to save you last night.” 

“Yes.  Save,” your eyes go wide as something beats on a wall far away from the room the two of you are in.  “Ryan, it’s complicated.” 

“Explain it to me.” 

“Maiden!  Where’s my maiden!?” More banging on the walls, but it’s coming closer.  Someone is moving down the hallway.  “Maiden!” 

“Are you…?” 

“Yes!  And Reverend Drew is going to be so upset.  Give me this,” jumping out of his lap, you pull at the sheet on his bed.  He’s so confused with his morning mind, and he’s pretty sure he was drugged last night.  You fashion the sheet around your body.  “I’ve got to go.  I’ll see you in the garden.” 

“What is this?” There are too many questions.  And nothing makes sense.  The only thing he’s pretty certain of is he’s stuck here just as much as you are. 

“It’s the Four Way Temple.  I,” you jerk your head towards the door as the beating down the hallway walls gets louder, more aggressive.  “I’ve got to go.” 

“Are you in a cult?” 

“It’s complicated,” you say as you walk out the door.  Getting met with another slap to the face that takes you to the floor in a lump on the ground, “Reverend.” 

“Where were you sneaking off from?” 

“Nowhere.  I was sleep walking again,” he gives one of his famous smiles that you know is all for show as he nods his head, and Shuggie pushes the door open, revealing Ryan. 

“Did you touch her?!” Starting to rush towards the door, Shuggie closes it again, holding it tight, and trapping Ryan in there as he beats on the door. 

“Now, did my little maiden spread her filthy little legs for that bastard in there?” His put on southern accent grates on your nerves, but you shake your head no.  “Good girl,” those words don’t quite hit you like they used to.  “Go on, gather yourself up, and be waiting for me in my chambers.  Let me deal with this asshole.  If he’s going to stay here, he needs to know his place.” 

You swallow bile, standing up.  Holding your head in shame, you do as ‘He’ told you.  You’ll wait, and do what he tells you again later.  You always do.

Drew shakes out his body.  Going from the almost cruel and fearsome leader, back into the charismatic fool before snapping his fingers, and Shuggie opens the door for him. 

“I swear to God if you hurt her,” Drew holds his hand up with that fake bright smile, but it’s the gun that’s pointed at him from Shuggie’s hand. 

“Now now, young gun.  There’s no sense in you getting upset about what I do with my maiden.  May I ask what she was doing in here,” his eyes scan over the bed before meeting Ryan’s, “In your bedsheets?” 

“I don’t know,” it’s mostly true.  He doesn’t know what you were doing in here.  “I woke up with her in here.” 

“Are you calling my maiden a filthy little whore?” 

“No,” Drew’s mouth twitches as he says it.  If he’s your father he clearly has an issue with you with other men. 

“She was naked.  But I suppose her little performance last night left her a little dazed and confused,” performance?  Ryan vaguely remembers you dancing around everyone.  Dancing — nude.  “Hmm.  What business do you have coming here?” 

“I ran out of gas.” 

“Oh, that’s right.  Your dirty little lie,” what is with this guy?  “Now, you want to know what I think?  I think that her disgusting mother and step father hired Ryan Ackerman to come and find her,” Ryan’s face goes ghostly white.  “Here’s a secret, everything that beautiful maiden does, she loves.  Everything that happens to her and her body, she asks for.  I could send you on your way, but I have a feeling you’re not leaving without her, huh?” 

Ryan sits stoically.  He’s got himself into a whole fucking ton of trouble, and he knows it.  All for you, “You’re free to go.  And she can go with you if she wants.  But she doesn’t want to.  She has a higher purpose.  She is the epitome of submission.  There’s no higher service than that, and she will be greatly rewarded for it.” 

“What do you do to her here?” 

“Oh, she’s treated like a queen.  Everyone adores her, and knows what her true calling is.  And I won’t let some scrawny little boy who thinks he's a big man private investigator take her away from me.  From us.  She’s more important than you will ever know,” Drew offered him the freedom to leave, but men like Drew can’t be trusted.  You have to play their games.  

“If you excuse me, I have worshiping to do on my knees.  I expect you to be at my sermon tonight.  If you’re lucky maybe I’ll let you kneel before the altar,” Drew gives Ryan a cruel smile as he turns around.  “You can’t believe everything my maiden says, young gun,” Drew winks before he leaves.  

Ryan has very little more than his thoughts, and the strange Shuggie left.  “Does he keep her here for sex?” Shuggie’s head tilts to the side, before looking out into space.  “Have you fucked her?” 

“No.” 

At least he answered that time.  “Do you want to?” 

Shuggie hesitates, before shaking his head no.  “What do you want me for?” 

“Labor.  You can go out to the gardens,” exactly where you said you wanted to meet him.  

“She called him daddy last night,” Shuggie shrugs, but Ryan knows what he heard.  “So it’s a pet name?  Is he into that kink?” 

“Shut up,” Shuggie opens the door, pointing down the hallway.  “You ask too many questions.  It’ll get you in trouble.” 

“What happened last night?” 

“The start of a new age.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @rnurse-kole @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@distractingbeth @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy @welp-heregoessomething @pandaxnienke

@kmm-fluv @rogersbarber

[transthadymacdermot]

Backstory stuffs for Dev... in the early 1780s he obtained a scholarship to a catholic school on the continent, on the condition that he would become a priest when he had finished. at the time he was lonely, couldn't communicate because he only spoke irish at first, and considered running away several times, but subsequent decades of constant war in europe have given him inordinately rose tinted glasses towards this period of his life as a better time before The Corscian Tyrant and The Jacobin Menace had destroyed everything. good luck getting him to admit that though lol

[deepdisireslonging]

Wrestling Threesome Fics

Andrade Cien Almas/Reader/Dean Ambrose : Choose Me (AR, A, Ficlet)

Bobby Fish x Reader x Kyle O’Reilly : Our Princess (AR, S, threesome)

Dean Ambrose vs. Shane McMahon for Y/N : Who’s It Gonna Be? (AR, F, A)

Elias x Reader x Roman Reigns : Chained to the Wall (S, Threesome)

Jordan Devlin x Reader x Finn Balor : Teacher and Student (AK, S, Threesome, no M|M)

Revival/ FTR (Scott Dawson and Dash Wilder) : Hands Everywhere (AR, S, Threesome)

Roman Reigns x Reader x Drew McIntyre : Cheek to Cheek

Tommaso Ciampa x Reader x Johnny Gargano : Just a Thing (AR, S)

Ricky Starks x Reader x Maxwell Jacob Friedman: Stuck (CNC, S, A, F)

[closetofcuriosities]

Donnie Darko - Tapestry Sweater

[cashordashdoesntmatter]

Loved the beginning of this match - Big Drew asserting his dominance

[dartbread]

I’m gonna miss them so much ;-;;

[littleclownboxes]

first time playing danger on deception island and I just gotta say

jenna devlin is a homosexuál, correct?

or am I just in love

[esonetwork]

The Earth Station DCU Episode 380 – The Devlin House

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/the-earth-station-dcu-episode-380-the-devlin-house/

The Earth Station DCU Episode 380 – The Devlin House

This Week on Earth Station DCU! Drew Leiter and Cletus Jacobs discuss the mysterious haunted Devlin House. Amanda Waller takes control of Gammora, while Dreamer and Harley Quinn try to fight back in Suicide Squad: Dream Team #2. Batman continues his mission in space by going after the Blakksun Mining Company whose sent a bounty hunter after the hero in Batman: Off-World #4. Hal Jordan learns the truth about what has been happening on Oa, while Guy Gardener goes after Lobo in the backup story in Green Lantern #10. Jon Stewart continues to search for a way to escape the Dark Star of Fenn, while his mother receives a visitor at Steelworks. Jay Garrick searches for his missing daughter and Doctor Elemental in the final issue of Jay Garrick: The Flash #6. All this plus, DC News, Shout Outs, and much, much more!

————————

Table of Contents

0:00:00 Show Open

0:01:04 DC News

0:09:57 Suicide Squad: Dream Team #2

0:15:44 Batman: Off-World #4

0:20:27 Action Comics #1064

0:24:22 Green Lantern #10

0:31:02 Green Lantern: War Journal #8

0:36:28 Jay Garrick: The Flash #6

0:41:32 Dead Boy Detectives S1 Ep3 – The Case of the Devlin House

0:53:52 Show Close

Links

Suicide Squad: Dream Team #2

Batman: Off-World #4

Action Comics #1064

Green Lantern #10

Green Lantern: War Journal #8

Jay Garrick: The Flash #6

The Sandman #25 (Cletus’s Read More Comics Pick)

The Flash #787 (Drew’s Read More Comics Pick)

Earth Station DCU Website

The ESO Network

If you would like to leave feedback, comment on the show, or would like us to give you a shout out, please call the ESDCU feedback line at (317) 455-8411 or feel free to email us @ earthstationdcu@gmail.com

[brewerno7]

Our sale has been extended! Sale ends Monday, July 8th at 9:00 AM PDT. ELECTRIC CON in NOLA for OCTOBER 12 & 13 2024

[floorman3]

1982: The Greatest Geek Year Ever Review- A Docuseries That Brought Me Back to My Childhood in a Great Way

The fact that 1982 is a year that has been one that made me who I am today is pretty incredible to me. That year had so many of my favorite movies. ET the Extraterrestrial is a film that has been one of the most influential movies of my lifetime. I was only 8 years old at the time, but I loved that movie so much. I still remember watching it at a drive-in theater, and I felt ET and Elliot (Henry…

[werezolft]

The Dead Boy Detectives (and crew), have been occupying my thoughts the past few weeks. I’ve watched the show on repeat, rewatched Sandman, actually started reading the Sandman graphic novels (currently on Seasons of Mist, the introduction of the Dead Boys), and I’ve started drawing the episodes in the style of old teen detective novels.

I started these before getting super into behind the scenes details. I went down a bit of a rabbit-hole last night, and was delighted to learn that show-runner Steve Yockey wanted the show to be reminiscent of The Hardy Boys, one of the main influences of these covers.

The accuracy of their depictions varies, I don’t think they always really look like themselves. But I had a lot of fun.

I hope to continue designing these for a bit while the obsession holds, and maybe I can properly bring in purples, Crystal’s hero color.

[Alt Text:

Image 1: A series of covers on a white background. From left to right, "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine", "The Case Of Devlin House", "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine" (alt cover), "The Case Of The Hungry Snake", and "The Case Of The Lighthouse Leapers".

Image 2: Three teenagers, Charles, Crystal and Edwin explore a blue green cave with a skull covered in dandelions on a center shrine. Charles holds a flashlight, Crystal is climbing in while her eyes have gone white during a psychic episode, and Edwin is playing lookout. At the top of the page in yellow italics is the text “Dead Boy Detectives” and below in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 3: Edwin, Charles and Crystal peering around the corner of a yellow-green wooden hallway, looking at the silhouette of a man swinging an axe. They have varying worried expressions. At the top, in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF DEVLIN HOUSE”.

Image 4: Crystal and Niko stare at each other across a green hallway. Niko has her left hand raised and is surrounded by glowing images, stars, hearts, moons, butterflies, rainbows, and sparkles. The cast a faint pink light. At the top in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives”, and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 5: Charles and Edwin tied to chairs in a golden yellow room. Charles has an iron collar chained to his neck, and his wrists are bound. Edwin is in a white tank top, and his mouth is gagged with a clothe. On the wall is the shadow of the witch Esther, with her cane. In the corner is a large cabinet, Niko peers out of. On top of the cabinet is perched a crow, Monty. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE HUNGRY SNAKE”.

Image 6: Edwin, Charles and Crystal stand on stairs overlooking the gray sea and red sky. A giant angler fish, Angie, is staring at them. In the corner, on top of the hill is a classic red and white striped lighthouse. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE LIGHTHOUSE LEAPERS”.

Image 7: A series of book covers on a white background: “Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators in The Secret of Skeleton Island”, “Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, The Ghost of Blackwood Hall”, “Nancy Drew, The Mystery at Lilac Inn”, “The Hardy Boys, While the Clock Ticked”, and “The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon”.

[georgiapeach30513]

Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, Reverend Drew Devlin to the lineup of characters!!! X

[koutone]

Have you ever tried to draw Duke Devlin?

I have but it's SO OLD it's in my old blog klsdfjcewlkrf 😭

i drew an updated duke to rectify this

[robogart]

Here's a Duke Devlin I drew back in March! Back when I was deep in my post-canon AU thoughts 👏💖✨✨

[blogger360ncislarules]

The con will be back on this spring, when Leverage: Redemption Season 3 arrives on Prime Video.

TVLine has learned that Season 3 of the caper drama (which previously streamed on Freevee) will premiere Thursday, April 17, with the first three episodes of 10, followed by weekly drops.

In Season 3, Sophie/The Grifter (Gina Bellman), Eliot/The Hitter (Christian Kane), Parker/The Thief (Parker), Hardison/The Hacker (Aldis Hodge), Breanna/The Maker (Aleyse Shannon) and Harry/The Fixer (Noah Wyle) will contend with “a power broker stealing the clean water under people’s feet and turning it into dirty money, fight a mayor who’s literally the judge and jury of his small town, outrun a mark who’s finally caught up with them mid-con, out-hustle a pool hustler with a side business in extortion, and bring down an industrialist exploiting child labor,” the official synopsis tells us. “All this while dodging an intricate plan of vengeance from a past enemy and working through the fallout of their new personal relationships.”

Though Aldis Hodge is listed above, the busy actor told TVLine that fans once again will only get “a little bit” of Hardison — “you might not get enough, because I was little occupied shooting Season 2 of Cross” this past summer.

Similarly, the equally busy Noah Wyle recently told TVLine that he was unable to write or direct any of Leverage Season 3, as he was readying Max’s The Pitt for production.

Guest stars on tap for Leverage: Redemption Season 3 include, as TVLine previously scooped, Rachael Harris (Lucifer) and Auden Wyle (back as Harry’s daughter), plus Jack Coleman (Heroes), Drew Powell (Gotham), Alex Boniello (Ghosts‘ Crash), Cedric Yarbrough (The Goldbergs), Mary Hollis Inboden (The Righteous Gemstones) and Sam Witwer (Smallville).

John Rogers came on board as showrunner for Season 3, and executive-produced with fellow co-creator Chris Downey plus Dean Devlin, Marc Roskin and Rachel Olschan-Wilson.

[anto-pops]

The Serpent's Paramour CH 10 - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian's scheme to infiltrate the Ministry sounds simple. You want it to be simple. But if there's one thing you've learned since joining up with him, it's that things almost never go according to plan, and for once, you're sick and tired of being right.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, canon-typical violence, Dementors doing Dementor things

New chapter is up on Ao3 as well :))

It had been a long time since you’d found yourself outside King’s Cross Station. A seemingly endless crowd of people filtered into the multiple different entrances, some speaking with colleagues while others were completely alone, absorbed in their own thoughts as they prepared to head to work. You had told yourself that rejoining society after so many years spent by yourself would be like riding a broom; easy to manage, simple, and like second nature, seeing as you’d done it so many times in the past. 

In the end, you couldn’t have been more wrong. It was overwhelming. With all the different sights, sounds, and the assortment of scents that assaulted your nose as the biting, December morning breeze swept through the streets, it was a wonder you weren’t currently curled up on the ground in fetal position having a breakdown. 

To make matters worse, you were waiting on the footpath with Nora and the redheaded Ashwinder, Joshua. To say you were out of your element would be a monumental understatement, and you silently cursed Sebastian for leaving you to wait for him and Devlin alongside two people who likely wanted you dead. You hadn’t seen Nora since you’d used your darker magic to splinter the floor in your room apart, and Joshua had been absent from your sight ever since you’d lost control of your powers and nearly erupted in the garden. Those weren’t the greatest lasting impressions to have looming in the background, and you found yourself wondering what the two Ashwinders thought about having you accompany them to London. 

Nora, much to her credit, had said sorely little to you when she’d appeared in your room early this morning. It was for the best, considering you’d almost caved her head in with a Depulso charm in your half-asleep state. You definitely hadn’t anticipated the witch ever setting foot in your chambers again after the last time she’d crossed that threshold. Sebastian had apparently asked her to help you prepare to head to the Ministry– ‘to better fit in’, she’d said with a scowl. 

‘Fitting in’ evidently meant putting on the most uncomfortable chiffon dress you had ever had the misfortune of wearing. You hated going from having the freedom to wear trousers to having to layer three different types of skirts over one another, all for the sake of blending in. The petticoat beneath the body of your coral pink dress was itchy and irksome, and you had decided as soon as you’d put it on that it would make for great fire kindling later when you returned to the manor. The only silver lining of the whole ordeal was that you had managed to talk your way out of wearing a corset and a bloody bustle. That was where you drew the line. 

You did look relatively pretty, however. The gown– while uncomfortable and not something you were used to– was stunning. Your previously untamed hair had been combed through and styled back in a simple plait, then adorned with a few ivory hair pins. All in all, if you overlooked the real reason for your presence in the city, it was like you were playing pretend. 

Nora also looked ethereal. Clearly she had reserved the nicer dress for herself, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. It accentuated her assets in ways that left you jealous she had assets to begin with, and the coppery color of her attire brought out the icy hues of her eyes. If you didn’t already know she was an Ashwinder, you would have assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy noble from some faraway country. 

To your left, Joshua shuddered in response to another gust of chilly wind that nearly blew his fedora off. He was dressed modestly compared to you and Nora, having opted to wear a simple dark button down with an ascot and a grey vest over the top. His trousers were of the standard variety, but his shoes were dressy and polished. 

Where in the world did your new allies get all the money to buy such nice clothing? 

“If they aren’t back in the next five minutes, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Joshua muttered under his breath, his words nearly carried away in the breeze. 

Nora sighed, her frustration palpable even before she narrowed her cold eyes at the young man. “We told you to bring a coat. There were four different ones to choose from. You being cold is your own damn fault.” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still complain about being made to wait for half an hour,” he fired back instantly. Shaking his head, Joshua stuffed his hands in the pockets of his vest, cursing to himself when he was only able to fit half of the appendages inside the tiny slits. 

Keeping your mouth firmly shut, you looked away from your entourage and glanced around the bustling city streets. The last time you had been in London was after your graduation. You had barely lingered at the train station for five minutes before apparating away, the phantom memory of you and Professor Fig climbing aboard the carriage your fifth-year haunting you and dredging up emotions that were best left buried. The dragon attack and uncovering the ancient magic site hidden away in Gringotts felt like a lifetime ago. 

You wondered, then, what Professor Fig would make of you now. 

“Don’t you all look chipper,” came a familiar, sarcastic voice ahead of you. It sounded like Devlin, but when you turned to look, you were met with the sight of an unknown man. He was young, with green eyes, dark hair, and wearing an expensive looking wool overcoat on top of a pressed suit. The only thing that betrayed his true identity was the worn bowler hat perched atop his head, and your brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Devlin?” you asked cautiously, and the green eyed man smirked. 

“In the flesh,” he proudly remarked, hesitating a moment before adding, “Well, someone else’s flesh, technically speaking.” 

Nora stepped forward to take in her father’s altered appearance, her mouth curling up into a rare, genuine smile that softened her otherwise sharp features. “Whose face did you borrow this time?” 

“William Taylor,” Devlin replied, smoothing his hands down the lush coat draped over his shoulders. “An Obliviator. He’s regularly assigned to attend court proceedings and handles muggles exposed to magic. Him being in the Detention Area won’t draw any attention.” 

“And Sebastian?” Nora inquired further. 

“Thomas Hughes. Junior Assistant to the Archivist.” 

You turned to track the voice as a middle aged man with neatly styled blond hair appeared behind Devlin. Traces of five o’clock shadow lined his pronounced jaw, and a nasty looking scar ran from his chin all the way down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his dark shirt. The top of Sebastian’s enchanted tattoo peaked out slightly– evidently unable to be hidden by magic given its purpose– but it wouldn’t stand out unless he took off his jacket. The man you realized was Sebastian stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers, the edges of his tailored coat flapping listlessly in the wind. Upon closer inspection, you realized the eyes were still the same color as his usual chocolate brown, just accentuated by crows feet that crinkled when he grinned. 

Thomas– or, Sebastian– turned to stare at you, his familiar eyes sweeping down your dressed up body before turning his attention to Nora. “Nice work,” he mused coyly, and your stomach flipped when the blonde woman dipped her head at him in a coquettish fashion. 

You clasped your hands together and started to wring your fingers, the flurry of uncomfortable emotions that gnawed at you making you question your decision to come. This was bound to end poorly, and if that sinking feeling wasn’t enough of a reason to second guess your presence here, the suggestive gaze Nora fixed Sebastian with was. 

The two of you hadn’t spoken since your momentary tryst in his office days earlier. You knew you had told him he might end up regretting it later on, but the possibility of that being the case made you sick to your stomach for some reason. 

“Your eyes are still the same,” Nora commented dryly. 

Said eyes made a full trip around their sockets as Sebastian shrugged, then nodded towards Devlin. “Not all of us can perfectly imitate faces. He’s the one with the copy cat power– I’m stuck using transfiguration spells, and trust me when I say they were never my strong suit. This is as good as it’s going to get.” 

Nora shot a proud smile at her father, who seemed to be greatly enjoying the praise heaped upon him. You cocked your head to the side as you took in Sebastian’s commentary, the implication of his statement registering a heartbeat later. You looked to Devlin and raised your brows as you asked in a low voice, “Are you a Metamorphmagus?” 

The older Ashwinder tipped his bowler hat forward, flashing you a smirk that oozed arrogance. “I am indeed. The second one born to my family in half a century. It’s an awfully useful ability, especially when you’re sneaking into the Ministry.” 

It most certainly was. As far as you knew, Metamorphmagi were incredibly rare amongst wizard-kind. Unlike Animagi like Natty, the powers that came with being a shapeshifting Metamorphmagus were typically hereditary, so no ordinary person could learn them. For the first time since this morning, you addressed Nora directly, your curiosity piqued in the wake of the discovery. “Are you one, too?” 

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, a modicum of insecurity showing on her otherwise schooled features. “No. How it gets passed down through bloodlines isn’t an exact science. My grandmother was one. She had four kids, but he’s the only one who got the ability.” 

To say you were intrigued was putting it mildly. Why hadn’t Devlin mentioned it to you before? You were desperate to learn more– to probe him for answers to the quickly growing list of questions in your mind– but you knew now wasn’t the time nor the place. Joshua was still shivering beside you, doing his best to appear put together in the face of Sebastian and Devlin’s arrival, but the two men still took note of his rigid posture. 

Sebastian jerked his thumb over his shoulder, his eyes jumping from person to person before finally landing on you. “We should get going. The less amount of time I have to spend concentrating on this spell, the better off we’ll be.” 

You were pretty sure you heard Devlin mutter something along the lines of ��Sucks to be you”, but everyone was already moving in the direction of the Ministry, ready to tackle the task at hand. 

With your group finally set to break into one of the most heavily fortified government buildings of all time, you sent up a silent prayer. If it turned out to be anything like Gringotts, you hoped that the dark witch and wizards surrounding you were prepared. 

Anything less, and you’d all end up dead.

—

As it turned out, getting into the Ministry was the easy part. The five of you just… walked in. 

Not together, though. That would arouse suspicion. A Junior Assistant to the Archivist and an Obliviator coming to work together? It made no sense– especially considering the vast age gap between the two borrowed identities. 

No, there was a plan in place that you were all following to the letter. 

Nora had entered alongside her father, playing the part of a hapless muggle who was due to have her memory erased after witnessing an unfortunate display of magic that had killed her make-believe husband. She sold the act remarkably well, crying in earnest as she wiped tears and snot away from her face with a silk handkerchief Devlin had crudely tossed her way. 

You, Sebastian, and Joshua entered together next, although your assigned backstory was relatively pathetic compared to Devlin and Nora’s ironclad alibi. You and Joshua were posing as a couple of married scholars, joining ‘Thomas Hughes’ down in the Archives to lend your expertise in deciphering old tomes referencing long, forgotten kinds of magic. The glare you had shot Sebastian upon hearing your title had warranted a knowing grin from him, and you endeavored to smack him upside the head the second you left London. 

Part of you had worried about the guards detecting the transfiguration spell Sebastian was actively using on himself, but when the three of you walked through the heavily guarded entrance without so much as a glance from security, you knew you were in the clear. 

Devlin and Nora were across the massive lobby already, waiting for the rickety dumbwaiter to take them up to where they needed to go. The unfamiliar face of William Taylor glanced at your trio as you walked up to the service lift directly beside the first, and a curt dip of his chin was the only thing Devlin deigned to grace you with. Talking was pointless and largely discouraged, you recalled Sebastian saying, so you mirrored the action before turning back to the creaking machinery in front of you. 

The iron gate of the lift was pulled aside by a journeyman already inside, and he stepped back to allow for a cluster of people to board. Your group was amongst the first to step on, and once the gate had been closed, there was a loud clang as the mechanism began to ascend towards the top of the building. 

You were shoved up against the back of the lift, the taller bodies of the actual employees all around you leaving the air hot and thick with intermingling scents. It was stifling, and it took a herculean effort not to shove at the back of the man in front of you to create space for yourself. Sebastian’s disguised face glanced down at you, taking in the tight expression on your face before placing his hand reassuringly on your shoulder. The tiny gesture was the extent of the comfort he could afford to offer you, but you appreciated it all the same. 

It took far too long for the lift to begin emptying itself. The shrill chime that went off every time a new floor was visited made your ears ring, and it wasn’t until you were seven levels above ground that the bulk of the people aboard disembarked. You exhaled shakily, relaxing your posture as you were finally given the space to shift freely, and Joshua chuckled under his breath at your blatant display of discomfort. 

Ignoring the journeyman completely, you broke the silence within the lift to mutter in a low voice, “Keep laughing and see what happens.” 

“Apologies, wife,” Joshua stressed the word, shaking his head and grinning to himself. “I forgot that you haven’t been out much recently.” 

Sebastian interrupted the momentary banter with a stern look, the gruff expression on Thomas Hughes’ face enough to have Joshua lifting his hands in a show of surrender. Nothing else was said until the three of you arrived on the tenth floor, the gate of the lift groaning open as the journeyman moved aside to allow for you to step off. He didn’t say a word as he closed himself in following your exit, then began his descent back to the lobby of the Ministry. 

You almost wished you had stayed aboard the lift, because the sight that greeted you was something straight out of a nightmare. 

Dark tiles lined the floors and the walls, reflecting a dim, blueish light that seemed to come from nowhere since there were no windows. It gave the hallway before you the appearance of a corridor that led into the afterlife– made worse by the shadowy figures that darted above the floor in the chamber ahead. The temperature difference up here compared to the humid lift was stark; it was freezing, and your breath fogged out in front of you as you anxiously sighed, crossing your arms over your chest in a bid to retain some warmth. 

When you looked at your companions, you paused. Joshua looked to be as nervous as you were, his leg bouncing a mile a minute as he expelled the tension that was swiftly overtaking him. Sebastian, though… 

Even though he wore the face of another man, those familiar eyes of his were riddled with fear. 

Being here had to bring back memories of Azkaban. That was the only logical explanation you could come up with. 

“How long do we wait for Devlin?” You found yourself asking, doing your best to distract Sebastian from the dreary thoughts that no doubt clouded his mind. He blinked a few times before turning away from the chamber ahead, his narrowed, uneasy gaze landing directly on you. He took in the sight of you for a few seconds, barely moving and hardly breathing as he worked through whatever turbulent emotions plagued him, until he finally squared his shoulders and looked back down the hallway again. 

“If he’s not already here, he should be coming up shortly,” he muttered, dropping his hand to his thigh where his wand was securely strapped in its holster. “We can’t linger here, though. It’ll draw attention.” 

Joshua elected to speak up then, his teeth chattering furiously all the while, “What are we supposed to say if we’re caught? The Junior Assistant to the Archivist in the Detention Area is bound to raise questions.” 

“The story is you’re both helping Thomas Hughes decipher older types of magic that pre-exist our time,” he explained quietly. “We can say that the Dementors are worth cross referencing with that magic since they’re as old as wizard kind. We won’t probe around for long– once Devlin and Nora get here, we’ll find Arthur’s cell and get him out.” 

It all sounded so easy when he put it that way. You were supposed to just lie through your teeth in the face of trouble, then break Sebastian’s informant out with no problems? There was no way the enchantments within the Ministry’s Detention Area were susceptible to measly unlocking charms. 

No, there had to be a warden of some sort. Someone holding the keys to the cages and patrolling the halls. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled for anyone fitting that description. 

Getting thrown into one of the cells and sent away to Azkaban wasn’t on your to-do list today. 

Sebastian began walking forward then, the hesitation in his steps evident as the distance between him and the Dementors shrank. You and Joshua followed behind him, the two of you taking on the roles of inquisitive scholars who were probably a little too eager to get up close and personal with the soul-sucking wraiths. 

You forced a giddy expression to your face as you neared the end of the corridor, your smile wobbling slightly when two of the cloaked figures swooped down from the rounded ceiling to cut off your path. Sebastian halted in his tracks, his face impassive and showing no signs of alarm as he promptly turned so he could gesture at you and Joshua. “The Archivist has requested his colleagues from Belfast observe the nature of your kind to better understand the tomes currently being reviewed. With your permission, we will complete our task and be on our way.” 

His voice was unrecognizable as he spoke, the tenor so much deeper and lacking the teasing lilt that you had come to know. Your heart pounded against your sternum as you willed your gaze to shift to the Dementors– to the gaping holes in place of where their eyes should have been– and their gaunt, withered skulls made it hard to maintain your curious facade. Still, you leaned around Sebastian, taking in every detail of the phantom figures with rapt fascination.

These were the things that had kept Sebastian subdued in Azkaban for three years. They fed off of human happiness and left prisoners husks of their former selves. Just standing before them was enough to imbue you with a healthy dose of fear that you did your best to keep under wraps, but you knew you would never forget the sight of the ghastly creatures. 

The wraiths hovered in your path for a long time, and the only sign that they actually saw you was the subtle shifting of their hooded heads. Mentally psyching yourself up for a fight, you looked to Joshua, who was doing a less than stellar job of appearing interested in the Dementors. Instead he just looked like he was on the verge of throwing up. 

After far too long for comfort, the figures floated back, no longer looming ominously in your faces as they parted to reveal the path that led into the Detention Area. Your shoulders relaxed, as did Joshua’s, and Sebastian was the picture of confidence as he smoothly said, “Thank you.” 

For someone who had likely been subjected to torture at the hands of the inhuman husks, he was holding it together remarkably well. 

He didn’t waste a second before striding past the Dementors, his head held high and spine straight as the three of you left the first chamber and came upon the second. The sight of bars lining the tiled walls was equal parts reassuring and anxiety inducing. Devlin and Nora needed to arrive before you could move forward with anything, and there was still an obscene number of shadowy figures lurking around. You would all have to continue to play your parts to the best of your abilities. 

“This is fucking insane,” Joshua hissed under his breath, yanking his fedora off his head to rake his trembling fingers through his hair. “How the fuck are we supposed to get out later? Those demons are going to eat our souls before we even find Arthur.” 

“Stop talking,” Sebastian growled, the bushy brows of Thomas Hughes furrowing dramatically. “We’ll be fine.” 

The younger Ashwinder seemed to think otherwise, but he still snapped his mouth shut, rubbing his hands down his cheeks as he looked around. 

“This place…” you started to say, a sliver of genuine wonder coloring your words. “It’s terrible. You can feel how lifeless it is. The fact that it’s just sitting above the rest of the Ministry is unbelievable.” 

“This place has got nothing on Azkaban,” Sebastian murmured quietly, that haunted, far away look in his eyes returning full force. Against your will, you found your chest constricting as guilt overtook you. “Someone once told me that Dementors were born from the first dark magic ever used in this world. It was probably a bunch of hogwash, though. No one knows where they originated from, or why they are the way they are. They were discovered on an island in the North Sea thousands of years ago, but no one knows how they got there.” 

Even though it didn’t seem possible, Joshua paled even further, the greenish hue to his cheeks amplified by the murky light that illuminated the chamber. “The North Sea?”

The weathered face of Thomas Hughes nodded, Sebastian’s alert eyes scanning the ceiling as the shadowy figures above darted back and forth. “The island wasn’t Azkaban as we know it back then, but that’s where the Dementors were found. It’s ironic that the Ministry uses them to guard the place. They know all the nooks and crannies better than anyone.” 

It was a sobering thought, realizing that the wraiths swarming the tenth floor of the Ministry were in fact thousands of years old. It shouldn’t have surprised you– after all, you had undoubtedly seen more far-fetched things since your fifth-year. But something about the creatures imbued you with terror so innate, you couldn’t help but wonder if your ancestors had known to steer clear of the ghastly phantoms. 

You were certainly playing with fire by lying to them… if they could even conceptualize lying to begin with. 

The three of you meandered around the room for a good ten minutes, doing your best to look interested in the unholy creatures circling above. Maintaining your facade was the key to everything here, so you did exactly that; you fixed your eyes on the Dementors overhead and occasionally said something official-sounding to Joshua, who was doing very little to act natural. The poor man looked like he was going to pass out given the circumstances. 

After what felt like an eternity, there was a disembodied clang from deeper in the cell area. Your trio went eerily still, eyes wide with fright as your combined attention was dragged to the cage at the far end of the chamber. A muffled groan soon followed from within, and your panicked gaze jumped from Joshua to Sebastian. The marred skin on the neck of his transfigured disguise shifted as he swallowed thickly, then looked away to begin inching his way towards the source of the noise, and you swore you had never wanted to flee from a place more. Not even the traps you had unwittingly set off in ancient magic sites had scared you so badly. 

The Dementors overhead continued to swirl around the ceiling as Sebastian led the way towards the cell. Joshua nearly stumbled over his own feet when he finally got them to obey his will, his hand hovering cautiously over where you knew his wand was concealed beneath his vest. As you moved to follow the two men, you found yourself regretting having strapped your own wand to your leg under the copious layers of clothing you wore. Withdrawing it now would require virtually flashing the cloaked wraiths and drawing their attention, so you were left to dig your nails into your palms as you curled your hands into tight fists. 

How effective would punching a Dementor prove to be? 

Sebastian hesitated for a moment before peering around the wall of the cell, his entire body going ramrod straight when he caught sight of whatever was within the cage. You and Joshua halted in synch, the suspense causing the repository’s magic to thrum violently in your veins despite your best attempts at remaining calm, and you had to fight the urge to turn tail and bolt towards the lift with every ounce of willpower you possessed. Smothering your flight response, you forced your legs into motion, moving to stand beside Sebastian so you could see whatever it was that had him so perturbed. 

His hand shot up to curl around your bicep when you saw Nora and Devlin laying on the floor of the cell. Devlin’s appearance had returned to the version of himself you knew, his Metamorphmagus abilities nullified in the wake of whatever had apprehended them. The father-daughter duo wasn’t moving– their bodies stiffer than boards– but their matching blue eyes were open and frantic as they stared imploringly at you and Sebastian. 

Fuck.

The sound of something hitting the floor behind you drew your attention, and you and Sebastian both turned around in alarm to find Joshua sprawled out on the floor, his entire body as frozen and rigid as the two Ashwinders in the cell. A tall figure emerged from the shadows within an unlocked cage close to the corridor, stepping out with their wand raised and effectively blocking your only exit. The familiar, pulsing red tip had your mouth falling open in shock and fear. 

Ominis Gaunt stood before you– as poised and regal as ever– his milky-blue eyes narrowed in distaste as he used his refined magical talents to pinpoint exactly where you and Sebastian were. His wand leveled itself at his former friend, the unspoken threat in the action apparent, and you felt Sebastian’s hand tighten around your arm in response. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you were here?” Ominis asked, cold indifference coloring his tone. “Or did you forget that the brand you bear would announce your presence the second you stepped on to Ministry property? You’ve gotten sloppy, Sebastian.” 

“Ominis,” you muttered dubiously, stunned to hear him speak so vehemently after all these years. The soft inflection of his voice had vanished, replaced with a mature, biting tenor that left little room for argument. “Ominis, please, just take a moment–” 

“Be quiet,” he spat venomously, and you recoiled as though he’d slapped you. “I don’t want to hear it. You disappear for years after ostracizing me for a decision we made together, then show up with him and think you can tell me what to do?” He shook his head as a sharp, humorless laugh fell from his lips. “So much for it being ‘the right thing to do’. You’re a bloody hypocrite.” 

Movement from above drew your eye, and you glanced up warily to find the Dementors ever so slowly descending closer. The way they continued to spiral as they grew nearer reminded you of vultures circling around a dying animal, watching and waiting for the chance to feast. 

Sebastian released your arm to hold his hands out in front of him slowly, almost as though he was trying to pacify the blond man. But the glower he had fixed to Ominis’ face was anything but placating. 

It was murderous. 

“Arthur isn’t here, is he?” Sebastian asked in a low, dangerous voice. Ominis only sneered in response. “He was bait. You knew I’d come. How long did you hide in that cell, hoping that I’d walk in?” 

“Long enough to know that you don’t value your people very much,” Ominis retorted. “Seven days and seven nights. That’s how long you left him to rot. We had to send him away after four, since the Dementors kept picking him apart. There wouldn’t have been anything left otherwise.”

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, then.” Sebastian chuckled darkly, keeping his eyes glued to Ominis as he shook his head. “You’re more like your kin than ever before. Subjecting a man to torment like that, all for the sake of getting me here… you must make the Gaunt family proud.” 

“Shut up!” Ominis hissed, advancing forward a step and prompting the wraiths above to come closer. You weren’t sure which would prove to be worse; being imprisoned at the hands of your old friend, or having your soul sucked dry by thousand-year-old entities. There wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to find out. “For years I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. You escaped, and I took on the case in the hopes that I’d find out you had run off to live in seclusion in some hovel. I could live with declaring you dead and shelving everything if that were the case. But then I find out that not only are you still skulking around using dark magic, you’re also commanding every Ashwinder in the country. You embraced being a criminal. You’ve forced my hand, Sebastian. The only person to blame for this is yourself.” 

The next series of events happened so quickly, you barely had time to register anything. 

Sebastian shoved you to the floor, your palms connecting with the tile so violently that you heard and felt a sickening crack from your left wrist. You couldn’t stop the yelp of pain that ripped from your throat, but you were largely ignored as Sebastian’s hand flew down to his side, snatching his wand from its holster before casting Confringo and snarling when Ominis swiftly blocked the curse. 

Now a seasoned Auror, Ominis held his ground with little effort, returning fire in quick succession and forcing Sebastian to back up a few steps. The camouflage of Thomas Hughes wavered as Sebastian’s focus weakened– his transfigured disguise falling away shortly thereafter– and Ominis audibly cursed when he felt the ripple of magic. 

“Still a coward hiding behind other people,” Ominis jabbed, flicking his wand in front of him to send out a Diffindo charm that Sebastian failed to dodge. He jumped away, throwing himself against the cell door as his right side was left unprotected, and the spell tore through fabric and skin like butter. Your scream caught in your throat as Sebastian sagged against the iron bars, a pained grimace flashing across his face before it was replaced by a bloodthirsty expression. 

“It’s all you were ever a master at; using people. You used me,” Ominis continued, casting another spell that Sebastian barely managed to block. “You used her,” Ominis waved his wandless hand in your direction. “You used Anne as an excuse to push the limits of what was allowed. When does it end, Sebastian?” 

Sebastian groaned as he pulled himself upright against the bars, the subtle sound of blood dripping to the floor filling the room, and you stared wide-eyed at the growing red puddle beneath his feet. He fired off another wordless spell that emitted a green glow–one that carried the foul scent of an Unforgivable with it– and a growl sounded from him when Ominis blocked that attack too. The Dementor's overhead began to swoop down eerily close to Sebastian– the air around him taking on a wispy, transient quality that was accompanied by his breathless wheezes. 

No. No, no, no. 

Your fingers curled against the cold floor, the throbbing ache in your wrist muted as you wracked your brain for a solution. Apparating wasn’t possible within the Detention Area, seeing as there were countless wards preventing magical means of escape. You were certain there was a spell of some sort to fend off Dementors, but even though you had read about it years ago, you didn’t know it. Nora, Devlin, and Joshua were still petrified. Self-preservation demanded that you leave them all to their fate and escape by yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do such a heartless thing. Sebastian… 

He was going to die. 

If you didn’t intervene and do something, he would either bleed out or end up a soulless husk at the hands of the fiendish wraiths swarming him. Your skin prickled as the power sequestered deep inside of you began to rise to the surface in lieu of your heightened emotions. 

“Ominis,” came your frantic, pleading voice. The heels of your boots scuffed against the floor as you pushed yourself to your feet. “You have to stop! He’s going to die– please, listen to me!” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Ominis didn’t look in your direction, his wand still stubbornly leveled at Sebastian even though he was the farthest thing from a threat right now. “I don’t know what prompted you to join him after all this time, but I won’t back down. He’s killed people. He uses Unforgivable Curses like they’re nothing, and he’s never going to stop. I am legally obligated to see this through.” 

“We’re trying to cure Anne! Please– we’re so close to finishing this, Ominis. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the ends will justify the means. He was your friend once! Doesn’t that count for something?” 

Those stormy, unseeing eyes of his landed on you in the next second, and you froze when you caught sight of the pained scowl on his face. “Do you even hear yourself? I’ve heard all of this before– you have heard all of this before. History is repeating itself as we speak, and you’re going to side with him? Do you realize who you’re throwing your life away for?” 

The cool wood of your wand seemed to burn against the bare skin of your thigh, so close and yet so far away while hidden beneath your dress. You needed to get your hands on it to channel your magic. It was festering to life quickly– like a cauldron on the brink of boiling over– and you prayed that the desperate plan forming in your mind would work. You inched your fingers down to gather the hem of your dress in your shaking hands, but Ominis was too aware for his own good. He pointed his wand at you, furrowing his brows as a disbelieving look crossed his features. 

“Are you serious right now? I can’t believe you,” he huffed breathlessly, shocked that you would even consider drawing your wand on him. His knuckles blanched white around the handle of his own as he doubled down and said, “Don’t make me do this, I am begging you. Stand aside and let me do what I have to. I’ll figure out what to do with you after.” 

“No, I’m begging you,” you fired back instantly, the pleading tone you had used earlier entirely absent. In its place was something fearful– something cautionary. He had no clue what it meant to deny you, but he was about to find out. The memory of Isidora’s magic erupting out of you without your wand to aid you made you bristle, and you mentally psyched yourself up for the pain that would accompany unleashing it to destroy the Detention Area. 

If the whole fucking place was reduced to rubble, would the wards be destroyed, too? There was only one way to find out. 

“Please, Ominis,” you said once more, releasing the hem of your dress to rise to your full height. Your eyes jumped over to Sebastian’s sagging form against the bars of the cell, his eyes half-lidded as he weakly applied pressure to the wound in his side. The Dementors weren’t relenting, and you realized you had officially run out of time. “I can’t ask again; let us go.” 

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you could have sworn Ominis had unshed tears in his eyes. His thin lips pressed together as he shook his head, steeling his nerves as he croaked, “I can’t. You don’t know what will happen if I let him walk away. You don’t know what he’s capable of– he has the support of nearly every dark witch and wizard in the country. I would be unleashing a monster.” 

“He’s just one man, Ominis,” you whispered. “One man who sold his soul to save his sister. Can you blame him? Don’t you want to see Anne whole and healthy again?” 

It was a gamble to throw Anne’s name into the conversation. You weren’t sure if Ominis even stayed in touch with her anymore– didn’t know if he was aware of her current state. Weeks spent with Sebastian had revealed nothing to you about his twin, but you were fairly certain she was at St. Mungo’s in the city. It was reasonable to believe that Ominis would keep tabs on the younger Sallow sibling following her brother’s incarceration. 

The manipulation paid off in the form of Ominis’ wand lowering slightly as his face fell. To use Anne against him in such a way made you feel like a monumental piece of shit, but you were desperate. You didn’t want to hurt Ominis, but if he didn’t relent, you knew he would be caught in the inevitable crossfire. 

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he muttered the question under his breath, but it came out sounding sad. Like he had realized that you were too obstinate to be reasoned with. “Anne wouldn’t want this. You know that. She accepted her curse a long time ago. How do you think she would feel knowing that her brother was doing this– condemning himself– all in the name of fixing her?” 

You didn’t have an answer. Anne had already watched Sebastian kill their uncle, and it had driven her away from him immediately. But before that, you had seen the hope in her eyes when her brother would come around with poultices and herbs, claiming that they might help ease her suffering. Once upon a time, she had wanted to get better. 

Had she really given up? 

Sebastian groaned from his crumpled spot against the cell door, the most recent Dementor feeding from him veering up towards the ceiling to make room for the next. He looked pale, and the despondent expression on his face nearly cleaved your heart in two. You knew he wanted to fight. He would stand and defend himself tooth and nail if he were able, because that was just the kind of person he was. 

But he couldn’t. 

His now dull eyes were fixed on you as he jerked his head weakly towards the hallway leading to the lift. Was he telling you to run? After everything he had sacrificed and worked to accomplish, he was giving up? He had chased you through the woods weeks ago and kidnapped you. He had held you captive in his stupid manor and kept your wand from you until you agreed to help him, and now he was throwing in the towel? He was silently insisting that you get out while he and the petrified Ashwinders you had come with… what? 

Got arrested? Died? 

The thought made your blood boil, and even though he was pitifully bleeding out on the floor, you glared at him. 

“If it’s any consolation,” you heard yourself say, a heavy blanket of apathy settling over your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ominis.” 

“I never wanted–” the blond stopped mid-sentence, his body stiffening as the suffocating sensation of dark magic began to fill the room. His unseeing eyes darted around, his head swiveling back to Sebastian when he naturally assumed he was the culprit of the festering feeling. But the brunet didn’t even react to the Auror’s angry expression. No, his gaze was glued to you, his irises more lively than they had been since apparating to London. 

Isidora’s magic buzzed against your skin, the crackling sound steadily growing louder until the noise was akin to a hundred lightbulbs on the verge of shorting out. It felt as harsh as it sounded– like a million needles piercing your flesh over and over and over before being doused with alcohol potent enough to make the wounds sting. It was a roaring tempest within you, pushing and straining in its incessant search for a way out, only to find none. No wand, and no means of control. 

You never thought you would willingly put yourself through something like this again, but life had always proven to have a wicked sense of humor. 

Ominis’ hazy eyes were wider than saucers when he faced you once more, finally realizing that you were the source of the unnatural magic. “What the hell is that? What are you doing?” 

“Cast Protego,” you grit through your teeth, the imminent eruption enough to leave your knees buckling from the agony already coursing through you. “Do it now!” 

Ominis staggered towards you as he stepped closer, his confusion and anger evident in his voice. “What– stop!” 

“I’m sorry.” 

With that, you finally let go, hoping and praying that the torrent of raw pain and destruction you unleashed didn’t kill everybody in the process.