aura-likes-all-the-things - Tumblr blog

aura-likes-all-the-things · 8 days ago

Note

if you wanna hurt think of a ominis fic where mc and sebastian sit him down and are like we want you to be godfather and if it's a girl we are naming it after your aunt if that's okay if it's a boy we are naming it after you.

smash cut to ugly crying

Namesake | Sebastian Sallow x OC

EEEEEK THIS WAS SO CUTE AND SOFT AND SWEET THANKS FOR THE IDEA ANON HOPE U LOVE IT

Words: ~2,000

Tags: Post Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff, More Fluff

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Ominis Gaunt was a patient man.

At least, that’s what he told himself. Years of childhood conditioning had instilled in him the art of controlled silence, of waiting, of enduring. He could sit through excruciatingly long pure-blood dinner parties with nothing more than a polite nod and a thin, restrained smile. He could withstand the tension of courtroom proceedings without shifting in his seat. He had mastered the ability to conceal even the deepest of emotions behind an impassive mask, a skill that had served him well.

And yet, for all of his so-called patience, he was failing miserably at it now.

He had no idea why Evangeline and Sebastian had summoned him here tonight—only that it was "important," a word that, in Sebastian’s hands, could mean anything from we’ve uncovered a conspiracy at the Ministry to Evangeline finally perfected her bread recipe, and you’re going to sit here and eat it.

But this time, something about the request had set his nerves on edge.

Because he couldn't even guess what it was about. He had already endured the biggest shock of the decade when they'd told him Evangeline was pregnant—though, in retrospect, perhaps “shock” wasn’t the right word for it.

Shock implied surprise. Shock implied that this revelation had been something he had never considered before. And yet, Ominis had always known, in some quiet, unspoken way, that Sebastian and Evangeline would build this life together. Tat they were the kind of people who would find joy in something as terrifying and miraculous as a child.

So no, he hadn't been shocked.

But he had been thoroughly, playfully outraged that he'd been the last to know.

Because Anne hadn’t seemed remotely surprised. In fact, she had reacted with a knowing smile and absolutely none of the wide-eyed astonishment Ominis had expected, which, upon further interrogation, had quickly made sense.

Because of course Evangeline had gone to Anne first. Anne was a Healer, after all. If anyone was going to confirm the news, it was her.

"You mean to tell me that I was the last to find out?" he had asked, indignant.

Evangeline had only smiled, reaching out to squeeze his arm, her warmth cutting through his dramatic sulking. “I promise it wasn’t personal.”

Anne had snickered. “It’s a little personal.”

The four of them had laughed, and Ominis, despite himself, couldn’t find it in him to continue feigning irritation—not when Evangeline had looked so utterly happy, her fingers resting over her stomach in quiet wonder, and not when Sebastian had been seconds away from tearing up like a sentimental fool.

In fact, Ominis had been thrilled. Excited. And just a little bit terrified.

Because this was Sebastian and Evangeline they were talking about. A baby born to those two was bound to be either the most brilliant or the most dangerous child in existence. Possibly both. Ominis had already resigned himself to years of damage control, and the baby hadn’t even been born yet.

It had been weeks since then, though, and now that Ominis was here in their sitting room, he had no idea what to expect. Sebastian and Evangeline weren’t exactly the sit-you-down-for-a-serious-talk type. They were blunt and affectionate, prone to teasing and honesty without preamble. So the fact that they had summoned him for something—and without Anne, who was conveniently working late at St. Mungo’s—was making his nerves prickle.

“Alright,” he said carefully. “I can tell you’re both trying not to make me panic, which only makes me panic. Just get on with it, whatever it is.”

Evangeline and Sebastian exchanged a glance, and that was when Ominis knew he was well and truly doomed.

It wasn’t that they were being particularly suspicious—at least, not outwardly. But Ominis had spent years attuned to their every shift, their every nuance. He knew Sebastian’s nervous ticks just as well as he knew Evangeline’s soft hesitations, the way she measured her words when something truly mattered.

And that was what set him on edge.

Because Evangeline was measuring her words now.

She exhaled, slow and steady, then reached for Ominis's hand, her fingers curling lightly around his wrist. Warm. Steady. Comforting.

It did nothing to calm him.

"Ominis," she began, voice gentle but intent. "You know how much you mean to us. You always have."

That was it. The moment his stomach dropped.

This was bad.

There was a “but” coming—there had to be.

Because no one ever started a sentence like that without following it up with something dreadful. His entire childhood had been filled with those phrases. You know how much we care for you, Ominis, but your disobedience cannot go unpunished. You know you are valued, but your behavior has left us with no choice.

He braced himself. He clenched his free hand into tight fist in his lap, the tips of his fingers pressing into the fine wool of his trousers. He was sure he looked impassive, but internally, his mind was spiraling into the depths of every possible worst-case scenario.

Sebastian, for once in his life, wasn’t jumping in with some remark to defuse the tension. That was another bad sign.

"You're our family," Evangeline continued, squeezing his wrist lightly, her voice so full of certainty that it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. "And we trust you and Anne more than anyone."

Sebastian finally spoke then, a touch rougher than usual, as if he were trying to maintain his usual nonchalance but failing. “Which is why we... we want you to be our baby's godfather.”

Ominis froze.

The words should have made sense, but for some reason, his brain refused to process them.

"I—" He swallowed, utterly lost. "What?"

Evangeline let out a small breath of laughter, and Sebastian—Merlin damn him—sounded smug when he said, "You do know what a godfather is, don't you?"

Ominis turned his head toward Sebastian so fast it was a wonder he didn’t snap his own neck. He should have known—should have known—that even in a moment like this, Sebastian would find a way to be insufferable.

“I know what a godfather is,” Ominis bit out, his voice barely holding steady, “I just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face, trying to drag himself back to the present before his emotions completely derailed him

Sebastia, continued, as if he weren’t sending Ominis into the early stages of an emotional breakdown. "Well then, if... if you're willing, we truly can’t imagine anyone else."

Ominis’ lips parted, but no words came out. He felt like he was suffocating, but not in a bad way. More like… like he had been dropped into the middle of an ocean with no warning, waves closing over him before he could even breathe.

"And if it’s a girl," Evangeline said softly, hesitantly, "we were thinking of naming her Noctua. After your aunt."

It took all of Ominis’ control not to flinch.

Noctua. Noctua.

His aunt, the only person in his family who had ever shown him kindness, who had tried to help him, who had died trying to show him their family could be more. The only Gaunt he had ever loved.

His throat closed up.

"Only if you're okay with it," Evangeline added quickly, as if sensing the way his world had just tilted off its axis. "We don’t want to bring up painful memories, but—"

"I—" Ominis' voice cracked, and he had to take a moment to steady himself. His entire chest ached with something raw and terrible and beautiful. "I don't— I mean, I—"

And then Evangeline kept going, not knowing she was about to destroy him entirely.

"And if it’s a boy," she murmured, softer now, "we’d like to name him after you."

Silence.

It stretched thick and unrelenting, pressing against Ominis's ribs, filling his lungs with something he didn’t have the words for.

The first breath he took came out in a broken, stuttering gasp, and before he could even try to stop it, his face was in his hands, and—oh, Merlin, he was crying.

Not the kind of restrained, dignified tears he had occasionally let slip in private moments of grief.

No. This was ugly crying.

It was full-body, unrestrained sobbing, the kind that stole his breath, that made his shoulders shake and his chest hurt.

Somewhere through the haze of overwhelming emotion, he felt Evangeline shift, felt her arms wrap around him in a way that was warm and secure and safe. She murmured something soft, something meant to soothe, but the words were lost beneath the sharp, impossible ache of it all.

Sebastian, the bastard, let out a wet laugh. “Merlin, mate, we thought you’d be happy about it.”

Ominis tried—tried—to say something in response, but all that came out was another strangled, half-choked sound that barely resembled human speech. Which was fantastic. He was making an absolute spectacle of himself, and neither of them had the decency to pretend he wasn’t.

Sebastian squeezed his shoulder, his touch grounding but careful—a rarity for him—while Ominis buried his face further into his hands, laughing helplessly between broken sobs, and shook his head.

"I—I am happy, you idiot," he managed to choke out.

Sebastian let out another breath of laughter, this one softer.

"Good," Sebastian said again, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to play it off as casual, like he wasn’t two seconds away from getting choked up himself. But Ominis knew him too well—knew that the slight tremor in his voice, the way his fingers tightened against his shoulder, was just as much a betrayal of emotion as Ominis’ own wrecked state.

Evangeline still hadn't let go, her arms firm around him, her hand smoothing up and down his back in slow, grounding strokes. And Ominis—who had spent a lifetime holding himself apart, who had learned to flinch away from touch before he ever learned to accept it—could do nothing but sink into it.

Because it was safe. Because it was real.

Because it was his.

It was a family of his own making, built from the ruins of the past, from the people who had chosen him despite everything.

And it was the most precious thing he had ever been given.

Ominis took a shaking breath, tried to steady himself enough to speak properly. It didn’t quite work. "I—" He swallowed hard, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes like that might somehow stop the flood of tears. It didn’t. "You absolute nightmares."

Sebastian snorted, the sound thick with emotion. "Well, we're your nightmares."

Ominis let out something between a sob and a laugh, shaking his head. "I—Merlin’s beard, I don’t even know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything," Evangeline murmured, like she was grateful for him, as if this hadn’t just completely undone him from the inside out.

Sebastian leaned back into the couch, sighing dramatically. "Yeah, the crying pretty much said it all."

Ominis didn’t even have the energy to glare at him. "Shut up."

Sebastian grinned, bumping their shoulders together, and Evangeline only held him closer.

97 notes · View notes