#Last Legacy Fanfiction

[mephi-stopheles]

🌶️a little thing for your wait

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[anto-pops]

Heart of Vipers - Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader

Summary: After an ill-fated confrontation with Ominis' family, you come to learn that they want you for themselves. More specifically, they want your abilities for themselves. Ominis is less than pleased with the revelation and returns home with the intention of proving that the only person you belong to is him.

Alternatively summarized as Dominis turning into a possessive alpha male in the wake of his family's sudden interest in you.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, minor depictions of violence, explicit sexual content, rough/possessive sex à la Dominis

Descriptions of Marvolo and Aleister Gaunt heavily credited to legacyshenanigans

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (as always with more eclectic tags)

This was a bad idea. Truly one of the worst ones you had come up with in recent times– which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the stupid shit you’d gotten yourself into since starting at Hogwarts. But this was a decision born of desperation, and one that you adamantly refused to go back on. 

Not that you could, realistically. You were already here. 

The Gaunt Estate was massive. It was an imposing structure, shrouded in a perpetual darkness that seemed to kill off even the tiniest slivers of light, and you’d noted the distinctly foul scent of dark magic that encased the mansion from roughly a mile away. There were no Floo Flames to utilize for travel, so you’d been forced to apparate to Great Hangleton and walk the remaining six miles to reach your destination. This was your first time setting foot anywhere near Ominis’ childhood home, and the threat of splinching yourself by apparating to an unfamiliar location was a very legitimate concern. 

You almost wished you’d taken the gamble, if only to spare yourself the harrowing journey on foot. 

Ominis had to already be inside the manor, having left long before you decided you would follow him to essentially eavesdrop on his meeting with his family. You had never seen him so agitated in the hours leading up to his departure, and it was entirely due to the letter he’d received from his father. What it had said, you didn’t know, but you knew Ominis well enough to figure out that it wasn’t anything good. His entire demeanor had changed upon reading the apparent summons, but he wouldn’t tell you a lick of what it was about. He’d promised to return home as soon as he was able and left without so much as a goodbye kiss. 

The memory only reinforced the fact that this was a really bad idea. What the hell were you thinking? 

Now that you were actually here, you had no clue how to go about your poorly thought out plan. Going inside had always been the goal, but now that you were face to face with the blood-chilling building, you found yourself hesitating. Something told you that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in. You didn’t even know where Ominis could be, especially if the interior was as gargantuan as the exterior. Getting lost– or Merlin forbid, caught and tortured– seemed like the most plausible outcome. 

It was as the saying went; curiosity killed the cat. You seriously hoped you wouldn’t end up dead as a result of your inquisitiveness. 

Forcing one foot in front of the other, you started down the gravel path towards the arched double doors with your wand in hand. Your anxiety was like a physical entity hiding within your chest, but you smothered it beneath the overwhelming desire to ensure that Ominis was okay. While you knew he could handle himself, his family’s reputation preceded them, and you’d feared the worst earlier when you had borne witness to his expression shifting into something far more sinister than you were accustomed to. 

You cast a disillusionment charm for extra measure before giving the handle a testing twist, relieved to find that the door was unlocked. It wouldn’t surprise you if there were other safeguards in place that you were unaware of, but pressing on despite that unknown possibility was a risk you were willing to take. You opened the door a crack– just enough for you to squeeze through before quickly shutting it behind you– and you were instantly encased in suffocating darkness. 

The windows that lined the walls were evidently just for show. 

It smelled distinctly old inside, as though there had never been a time when the mansion wasn’t inhabited. The wooden columns that lined the entryway were cracked and worn, stretching all the way towards the vaulted ceilings before disappearing into the inky shadows high above. There was a striking amount of antique looking decor that lined the walls; from suits of armor, to ornate vases perched atop mahogany tables. Straight across from the front door was a giant portrait of what could only be the Gaunt family.

Ominis was nowhere to be found in it. 

The sound of distant, unintelligible voices echoed throughout the vast foyer from somewhere deeper in the house, drawing your attention and making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your eyes scanned the room once more before you were furtively moving further into the room in the direction of the noise. 

Following the sound of the voices brought you to a giant oak doorway– a mere fraction of the size of the main entrance, but still obscenely large. From within you could hear a man you didn’t recognize, his throaty timbre one that seemed to command attention, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that danced down your spine. Nothing about his tone sounded pleasant. 

“It’s been put off long enough,” you heard the man say as you sidled up directly against the door, careful not to lean on it too much and risk shoving it open. “We entertained your rebelliousness while you were at school, but Apollonia has anticipated this union for years now. It will happen. Whether you’re a willing participant, however, is up to you.”

“You already know my stance on the matter.” Ominis. “I’d sooner dig my own grave before I let you marry me off to that deplorable woman. She’s psychotic–” 

“A non-issue,” interjected the older voice. 

“Perhaps it’s irrelevant to you, but not to me,” Ominis snapped. You hardly recognized the threatening lilt in his voice; he sounded thoroughly fed up with the discussion, and you briefly wondered how long he’d been going at it with the unknown man. “She’s utterly wicked. Moreover she’s family. Have you forgotten my opposition to these incestuous relations you continue to shove down my throat?” 

At this point, you were almost positive the deeper voice belonged to Ominis’ father. You knew next to nothing about the man, other than the fact that Ominis loathed him with his entire being. Before you could delve further into your thoughts, a distinctly feminine voice filtered through the thin slit in the doorway, sounding colder than ice. 

“Aleister, give it a rest. If he wants to be dragged to the altar instead of walking down it, then so be it.” 

Ominis’ laugh was crass and devoid of any genuine humor, and you could practically hear the sneer in his rebuttal. “Bold of you to assume I’ll let myself be dragged anywhere. Try it and see what happens.” 

“I just don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this,” the woman continued as though he hadn’t even spoken. “You never used to fight us to this extent– you’ve always known what was expected of you as a Gaunt. Does that girl from Hogwarts have anything to do with this?” 

Your entire body went rigid at the mention of yourself, and a tense silence descended over the room. It was suddenly so quiet that you were certain you could hear a pin drop– but in this case the lack of sound allowed you to pick up on something shifting across the floorboards closer to you. You had barely glanced over your shoulder before you were jumping away from the door with your heart hammering in your chest. 

The biggest snake you’d ever seen in your life was slithering across the floor, its iridescent scales somehow reflecting the nonexistent light within the hallway. Your eyes went wider than saucers as you stepped away as much as you could, silently backing yourself into the tiny alcove beside the doorway in a bid to remain undetected– because if there was one thing the wizarding world had taught you, it was that beasts of any kind were far more intelligent than they were given credit for. The snake’s long, forked tongue flicked out incessantly as it made its way towards the doors, but it stopped short of the entryway to pivot its massive head in your direction. 

It was looking right at you. 

Fuck.

Your body tensed in anticipation of the worst; maybe it was venomous and you’d die quickly, or maybe it was more inclined to strangle the life out of you before depositing your corpse in front of Ominis and his parents. The thought made your stomach churn, and your eyes flicked down to confirm that yes– the disillusionment charm was still working– but that didn’t seem to matter where the reptile was concerned, and you mentally chided yourself for ever having let your curiosity get the better of you. 

The conversation on the other side of the door continued as your staring contest with the snake pressed on. “That girl is none of your concern. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll refrain from speaking to me about her.” 

“Ominis,” Aleister admonished with a rough voice. “Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way. Such hostility for some witch we know nothing about– perhaps it’s time to rid you of her influence once and for all. She’s proving to be a greater distraction than I had anticipated.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the snake’s, but your blood ran cold. 

“Over my dead body. If you so much as look at her–”

“That can be arranged. No son of mine will be consorting with some harlot of unknown blood purity. You’d be better off in the grave–” 

“Aleister!” Ominis’ mother yelled, silencing the back and forth bickering instantaneously, and you found the willpower to shift your feet sideways so you could better make a break for the front door.

There was another flick of the creature’s tongue as it blatantly scented your presence, but it made no move to inch closer to you. While you were grateful to still be breathing, you were also deeply, irrevocably afraid, and you came to the resolute decision that it was time to get the hell out of there. 

You moved out of the alcove slowly while maintaining what you deemed to be a safe enough distance from the snake, and all the while its thin, slitted pupils followed your movements. The blasted thing had an awareness to it that sent shivers down your spine, overwhelming you with the urge to run and get away, but vigilance was key. It wasn’t poised to strike, but that just made you even more nervous. 

Why wasn’t it attacking you? 

You adamantly refused to turn your back on the reptile, so you kept your front to it as you skirted the edge of the wall in the direction of the entrance. The discussion between Ominis and his parents was muffled now– their voices distinctly lower after his mother had cut off their argument with her biting tone– but you no longer cared to listen in. You craved safety, and nothing about the Gaunt household offered that. 

As you came upon the final stretch of the hallway, the snake flicked out its tongue once more before it was turning around to begin slithering towards you, and the remnants of your bravery evaporated. Fear overtook you, and the disillusionment charm that had shrouded you in transparency fell away as you pivoted and bolted around the corner. A chill-inducing hiss echoed from down the corridor– the first real sound you’d heard the animal make– and it only served to propel you towards the exit even faster.

The gargantuan double-doors swam into view, and just as you were reaching out to curl your fingers around the handle, a strong arm was coiling around your waist and hauling you backwards with enough force to give you whiplash. A startled, pained yelp was expelled from your lungs as you were slammed into the wall beside the doors, and your hip connected painfully with a tiny side table that careened against the floor. The vase that had been perched atop it shattered loudly, the ceramic pieces scattering across the tile, but you barely got the chance to gauge the extent of the damage before an unfamiliar face was blocking your sight. 

“Well well well, just look at what the cat dragged in. Get lost on your way home, doll?”  

It took a second for the statement to register, but once it had, you were craning your head back to glare boldly at the arrogant sounding man. His tawny eyes were narrowed down at you in amusement, his thick forearm pinned horizontally across your chest to restrain you firmly in place between himself and the wall, and the predatory look in his gaze had your stomach sinking into your feet. Everything about him screamed dangerous; from the unruly hair that curled around his temples to the animalistic way he bared his teeth at you– there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the man would kill you if he deemed it acceptable. You cursed yourself silently for having put yourself in such a predicament in the first place. 

The imposing man cocked his head to the side coyly as he teased, “I hardly think I deserve such a cruel expression when you’re the one sleuthing around my house uninvited.”

Your mouth opened and shut a few times before you managed to stammer out, “I-I wasn’t–” 

“Don’t deny it,” he cut you off quickly. “What other reason would Ominis’ little plaything have for being here? I sincerely doubt the house-elves held the door open for you.” 

The term ‘plaything’ made you scowl, distracting you from the fact that the man even knew who you were, and you brazenly planted your hands against his firm chest to shove him away. It was like pushing against an immovable boulder. “I’m not his plaything, you prat–”

His free hand shot up in a flash to grip the sides of your jaw painfully, the look on his face darkening tenfold as he growled, “Careful now, I’d hate to lose my temper and take away my brother’s pet.” The fingers splayed under your face tightened a fraction as the crazed man angled your head to the side, shamelessly pressing his nose against the sensitive skin of your throat before he inhaled deeply. You shuddered uncomfortably at the contact. “Although I’m beginning to understand his infatuation a bit. You smell… different. What is that, exactly?” 

You had no fucking clue what he was referring to, nor did you care to find out. Each passing second brought the towering man closer into your personal space, and when one of his legs started to weasel its way in-between yours, you found yourself attempting to writhe out of his ironclad grip. “Let go of me,” you demanded in a low voice, doing your best to keep your words steady and hide the rampant unease in your tone. 

“Answer my question,” he countered easily. “Or I’ll snap your scrawny neck and be done with it. Makes no difference to me whether you live or die–” 

“If you have any desire to keep those slimy hands of yours, you’ll remove them this instant, Marvolo.” 

Your eyes widened at the sound of Ominis’ booming voice echoing throughout the foyer, which had the elder Gaunt smiling wickedly at you. He didn’t bother turning around, opting to stay right where he was and drop his fingers lower so he could squeeze around your windpipe, and you knew your choked gasp reached Ominis’ ears when he swore viciously and began walking closer. 

“Did I stutter? I said to unhand her, you cretin.”

Marvolo tutted disapprovingly, angling his head to the side so he could better keep track of Ominis coming up behind him, but he kept his eyes glued to yours all the while. “Come now, Ominis. You know how I feel about rats, and she was certainly scurrying around like one.”

You finally caught sight of the blond over Marvolo’s shoulder, and the look on his face was downright murderous. His dark, expressive brows were slammed down atop his milky-blue irises, and his pursed lips contorted into a scowl as he leveled his wand with the back of the taller man’s head. Ominis continued to side-step closer, moving with the prowess of a wolf stalking its prey, and to your immense satisfaction Marvolo broke eye contact with you to fix his gaze on his brother. 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he looked wary. 

“Last chance,” Ominis grit out through his clenched teeth. “Let her go. Or you’ll be nothing more than a stain on the floor.” 

The sharp laugh Marvolo let slip past his lips was positively wicked, and Ominis’ threat only served to motivate his brother into tightening his hand around your throat. Stars danced in the corners of your eyes then, and your own hand shot up to grip at the man’s thick wrist in an attempt to pry his fingers away from your windpipe. Panic flooded your brain, your racing heart drowning out the sound of Ominis’ angry voice as your pulse thundered in your ears. Fight or flight was probably an appropriate way to describe what you were feeling, but Marvolo was making both options impossible to act on. 

He wasn’t listening to Ominis. He probably never would. You would have to get yourself out of this mess on your own. 

Marvolo was barking out insults and threats over his shoulder, taunting Ominis into hurting him as he called his younger brother’s bluff. You were able to school your nerves long enough to focus and dig deep inside of yourself in search of the magic you so rarely touched. Isidora’s abilities were as much of an unknown now as they had been when you’d first absorbed them, but it was comparable to a living entity within you, and the phantom presence of her magic roared to life as you called upon it. 

You felt the strange, darker magic crackle over your skin, and Marvolo’s head whipped back around to stare at you with his pupils blown wide. Whatever he saw reflected in your eyes was enough to spark alarm in his heart, and a sick, twisted part of you relished in the apprehension that washed over his features. 

“What the fuck is that?” His hand around your throat loosened a fraction, but you weren’t about to let him walk away from this unscathed. The arm that had been hanging limp at your side stretched out until your palm was directly against his chest, and you couldn’t help but grimace when the red bolts of magic skirted across your forearm and blasted straight into his sternum. 

Marvolo went flying with a barely there grunt– his arms and legs flailing as he tried to find purchase– to no avail. He hit the stone floor and slid an additional ten feet or so until he came to rest just beside the corridor you’d run out of earlier, and your blood ran cold when an older, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out from within the hallway. The look on his face was enough to spur you into action then, and you spared a quick, panicked glance at Ominis before you peeled off of the wall and threw the front door open. 

The cool night air was like a slap to your face, sobering you up instantaneously and driving you to pump your legs harder— faster— as you sprinted down the path that led to the dark forest surrounding the property. There was a bang from somewhere behind you and an animalistic sound you could only describe as a snarl, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when it could potentially cost you dearly. 

“Marvolo!” Ominis shouted, his voice angry and distant, but as the footsteps slapping against the gravel behind you got closer and closer, you realized it had to be him giving chase. Your heart hammered in your chest and in your ears– drowning out the sound of the encroaching danger hot on your heels– but you knew there would be no outrunning Marvolo. That crazed look in his eyes you’d seen earlier told you everything you needed to know; he would pursue you to the end of the damn country on foot if need be, and you had no intention of getting caught to find out what he had planned for you. 

Another growl sounded from over your shoulder, causing you to will your brain out of flight-mode and force your magic into action. It surged in your blood, coursing through your veins as you thought of home– of safety. 

One second you were running, and in the next you had apparated. Marvolo’s hand came down on empty air, his heels digging into the ground as he skidded to a stop and realized what had happened. You were already long gone, but his rage-filled roar shook the foundation of the manor, somehow echoing in your ears as you collapsed to your knees in the center of your living room. 

***

Your eyes stung as the steam from the bath wafted up into your face, your gaze never straying from the surface of the water. It had been nearly two hours since your narrow escape from Ominis’ childhood home and you had been in the tub for the majority of it– calming your frayed nerves and racing heart with deep breaths that did little to quell the anxiety that still riddled you. The hot water had been charmed back to scalding temperatures twice now, having gone cold multiple times already as you sat with your knees curled against your chest and replayed every second of your fortuitous run-in with Marvolo Gaunt. 

The ache in your hip throbbed to life every time you thought back to the primal glint that had flashed in Marvolo’s eyes as he’d thrown you into that table. What had started as a tender red spot on your side had transformed into a nasty, colossal bruise, stark and obvious against your bare skin. You hadn’t been able to so much as glance at the finger shaped bruises that wrapped around your neck without feeling nauseous. 

You’d made a mistake in following Ominis– that much was certain. 

The man in question had yet to return home, and as a result, the seemingly bottomless pit of unease in your chest only worsened. Part of you was ashamed for having left him alone to face his family’s scrutiny after literally breaking and entering, but you knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would have found a way to get you out as quickly as possible if you hadn’t done so yourself. 

Still, you worried. 

Another fifteen minutes passed without a sound from within the house, and you dimly registered that the water had gone cold once more. You were half tempted to heat it up again and spend the remainder of the night turning yourself into a human-sized prune, but the ache in your back from staying curled up for so long diminished the idea quickly. Swiftly, you hoisted yourself out of the water, using the rim of the tub to steady yourself as you stood and began drying yourself off. Rivulets of water still cascaded down your body as you draped your robe over your shoulders, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Fatigue overtook you as you combed through your hair with your fingers and padded into your bedroom, and the second you laid down atop the sheets, your eyes were drifting shut. 

You had no idea how long you slept before the distinct feeling of the mattress dipping roused you from your light slumber. The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the pulsing, red glow that emanated from Ominis’ wand as he hovered it over you, and you slowly started to blink the fog from your eyes. 

You had no clue how he realized you were awake, but his voice was unmistakably tight as he asked you, “Where are you hurt?” 

It took your brain a second to fully register the question, and you propped yourself up on your elbow as your eyes adjusted to the dim light and muttered, “What?” 

“You screamed,” he gritted through clenched teeth, and despite the low visibility in the room, you watched as his grip on his wand turned white knuckled. “I heard you earlier. You were in pain– I know it’s the truth– so tell me now, where are you hurt?” 

On cue, the bruise on your hip throbbed to life, and you swiftly placed your hand on top of it while silently cursing yourself for not having brewed any Wiggenweld potions after returning home. Evidently your mind had been too jumbled to do the most logical thing following the altercation. “It’s not that bad–” you started to say, but Ominis cut you off before you could downplay the injury any further. 

“Please,” he implored you, silencing you instantly with his pleading tone. “I’m trying to leave this up to you, but don’t think for a second I won’t figure it out for myself if you don’t tell me.”

Something about the desperate look on his face made you pause, and you took a moment to really take in the sight of him. He was pale– far paler than normal– and the way his brows furrowed told you that he was more anxious than you realized. His posture was still impeccable but less poised– closer to rigid. His shoulders barely moved, giving the illusion that he was hardly breathing, and you honestly weren’t sure he was at this point. 

In short, Ominis looked petrified. 

Your lips formed a hard line as your gaze traversed his stiff form, swallowing thickly before you slid your hand away from your hip to reveal the dark purple blotch that decorated your side. “My hip,” you murmured, afraid that if you spoke the truth too loudly, the tentative composure Ominis was keeping would vanish. 

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and the hand he didn’t have wrapped around the handle of his wand came to skim along your waist before hovering ever so slightly above the bruise. “Where else?” 

“This is the worst of the damage–”

“Where else?” His voice was deeper and rougher than you were accustomed to hearing, and the notable difference had your stomach flipping over on itself. It left you feeling queasy, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or at the situation as a whole. 

“…My neck,” you relented quietly, all too aware of the blatant anger that overtook Ominis’ face. “At least I returned the favor,” you added quickly with a half-smile, trying to lessen the severity of the claim. It was a failed attempt, however, seeing as the man averted his unseeing gaze to the floor and shook his head minutely. Dimly, you watched as he waved his wand over his free hand, and a small vial of Wiggenweld appeared in the center of his palm before he wordlessly handed it to you. Given his tense demeanor, you opted not to say anything as you took it and removed the cork, then drank down the earthy contents graciously. The relief was instantaneous, and through the darkness of the room you managed to catch sight of the bruise on your hip fading away entirely. 

Your tiny sigh of relief reached Ominis’ ears, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate– albeit barely. “You should never have gone there. Why would you set foot anywhere near that damnable house? Do you have any idea the kind of danger you put yourself in– the kind of danger that you’re still in?”

At that, you finally pushed yourself up so you were sitting with your back against the pillows, setting aside the empty vial so you could clasp Ominis’ free hand in yours. His skin was cool to the touch, and you noted the miniscule tremors that emanated from him as you squeezed the appendage to will his attention back to you. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I was worried about you– you were so upset before you left earlier and I was scared that your family would do something to you.” 

“Of course they want to do something to me. They’ve tried puppeting me into a version of myself they can tolerate for my entire life, but it’s for that very reason that I can handle them. I’ve told you what they’re like– how relentless they are– and still you went there.” His head finally snapped back in your direction, and the expression on his face was one you were certain you would never forget; it was a mask of desperation, fear, and most notably, rage. “You have no idea what you’ve done– what it means now that they’ve seen you and what you can do.”

You’d hadn’t really done much of anything, aside from blasting Marvolo across the foyer before running for your life. Still, his words kindled a spark of fear in your chest, and your hold on his hand turned loose and clammy. “What are you talking about?” 

“Before tonight, you were just an unknown witch I’d been… ‘cavorting’ with, in my father’s eyes. Easy to get rid of should the need arise. Until earlier, they didn’t believe you to be exceptionally powerful or particularly useful.”

The sudden dryness in your throat became painfully obvious. “Useful how?” 

“The Gaunt’s value power and authority over everything. Both things guarantee them the influence they need to further their own ends, and as unknown as your abilities are to them, they are undeniable. They’d be fools to ignore such a potent form of magic, and as much as I detest my family and their convoluted values, I’ll be the first to admit that they aren’t stupid. They will find a way to make that power their own– blood purity be damned– and stealing you away and marrying you off to my brother would be their most likely course of action.”

Ominis practically spat the word, his teeth bared and eyes narrowed as murderous thoughts of his brother flew through his mind. Your own head was reeling at the revelation, nausea crashing over you as you thought back to Marvolo and the sadistic way he’d smiled as he tried choking the life out of you. Someone like that wouldn’t– no, couldn’t have a caring bone in their body. But you also knew that someone of his caliber was bound to be determined to get what he wanted, and if Ominis believed that his family now sought to obtain you for their own ends, Marvolo would do everything in his power to make it happen. 

You had really, really fucked up. 

Somewhere in-between thinking of Ominis’ brother and the sickening idea of being kidnapped, your breathing had kicked up dramatically. You didn’t notice, but the blond man beside you certainly did. Ominis turned fully so his torso was angled towards you, feeling around the bed for your other hand before clasping your trembling limbs in his cooler ones, and your wide eyes flicked back up to meet his. “I won’t let them have you. Do you hear me? If they so much as glance at you, I’ll leave them wishing they had never set their sights on you.”

“You can’t know that,” you whispered, and your voice was unrecognizable to you. It was small and shaky, timid and so very, very afraid. “Marvolo is– he’s a beast. He’ll kill you in a heartbeat, Ominis. You’ll die and it will be all my fault. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault–” 

In a flash, Ominis silenced you with a kiss. It took you by surprise, but it was far from an unwelcome one– especially when his wand bearing hand slid to the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer towards him. You were pleased to discover that the skin there no longer throbbed with discomfort, the Wiggenweld potion he’d given you having done its job for all the bruises, not just the one on your hip. The revelation calmed you further, and before you knew it you were melting against the taller man, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt to cling to him desperately.

Ominis broke away momentarily to murmur against your parted lips, “No one will ever take you from me, you’re mine.” 

Despite the circumstances that led the two of you to this moment, you found yourself enraptured by the possessive declaration, and you couldn’t help but lean closer into the blond’s personal space until your hands were sandwiched between his chest and your breasts. Your mouth found his again, and you fervently bit at his bottom lip as you breathily whispered, “I’m yours, Ominis. Only yours.” 

Instantly, Ominis was pushing you back towards the headboard until your head knocked against the wooden frame, not once breaking the kiss as he positioned himself on top of you. His long legs came to cage your own against the mattress as he threw his wand to the edge of the bed, freeing both of his hands so he could plant them on either side of your face. Pulling away seemed physically difficult for him but he didn’t stray far, opting to rest his forehead against yours and fix his hazy eyes directly on yours. How he knew where to aim his heady stare, you didn’t know, but your toes curled at the ardent need for you that reflected in his blue irises. 

“Say it again,” he implored you with a voice like pure sin. 

“I’m yours,” you obliged him without missing a beat, and a sigh slipped past your lips as Ominis lowered his face to pepper featherlight kisses along your jaw and down the now unmarred column of your neck. Goosebumps broke out virtually all over your body when you felt one of his cool hands fall to the neckline of your robe, and as Ominis slowly tugged the material apart to expose your bare chest, he sank his teeth into the tender spot above your clavicle. The pain laced pleasure left you moaning his name in earnest, your voice steadily growing louder as his thumb came to graze over one of your nipples. 

You felt the pressure from his teeth lessen as you arched into his touch, followed by his kiss-swollen lips latching over the bite to suck lightly. “Again,” he breathed, continuing to work his searing brand into your flesh. 

There were too many ways to describe his actions; primal, dominant, and greedy, to name a few. Yet there was a softness to his words that left your heart aching within your chest– a tenderness that spoke volumes of the fear he’d felt upon realizing you had entered into that nest of vipers. He had nearly lost you tonight, and when the hand against your breast shifted down to curl around your waist, you realized he would never allow for it to happen again. 

“I’m here, Ominis, I’m right here,” you moaned, your reedy voice bouncing off the walls of the bedroom and causing the man above you to shudder. “I’m here and I’m yours.” 

Before long, Ominis was moving back into your line of sight to capture your lips in another searing kiss. The hand on your waist traversed the bare expanse of your lower stomach before reaching your aching center, and you mindlessly wound your arms around his neck to tug him closer, bucking your hips into his hand as he slid a slender finger through your folds. 

“Mine,” he growled against your parted lips, and your next breath caught in your throat as he tentatively pushed the digit inside your wet heat. Your contented sigh filtered through Ominis’ hypersensitive ears as he pressed his finger in all the way to the knuckle, and the arm he supported himself with trembled minutely as he fought to control his baser urges. 

After everything that had transpired tonight, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep in your cunt, desperate to feel you clamp down around his cock and suck him in further and further as he claimed you. He longed to mark you, brand you, consume you, in every possible way– his family’s wishes be damned. He would make you his and his alone. Should any of his kin so much as attempt to interject, he vowed he would defend you until his last breath– and then not even death would stop him. Ominis knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would defy the laws of nature if it meant keeping you safe from harm. 

As you continued to rock your hips in time with Ominis’ hand, your legs spread apart of their own accord, silently beckoning him closer as you shivered under his dutiful ministrations. Ominis felt the movement and groaned in blatant appreciation, taking advantage of the newfound space to siddle down the bed and kneel comfortably between your legs, and all the while his finger continued to pump in and out of your wet heat languidly. He bestowed another toe-curling kiss upon your lips before breaking away to slide fully down the mattress, your heart stuttering in your chest as he moved low enough to settle between your quivering thighs. It was impossible to overlook the animalistic expression on Ominis’ face as he gazed in your direction– following the sound of your barely there whimpers– and your blood ignited in your veins at the sight. 

All too eager, Ominis wasted little time in securing his grip around your waist with his free arm to better pull you harder onto his finger. The keening sound that slipped from your throat was replaced almost instantly by a guttural moan, drawn forth by the feeling of your lover’s lips latching around your clit to suck enthusiastically, and your head thunked against the headboard as wave after wave of sheer pleasure cascaded through you. 

Your thighs absentmindedly clenched on either side of Ominis’ head as he shamelessly pulled your bundle of nerves into his mouth, the action accompanied by wet, perverted sounds that had damn near all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks. “Merlin, Ominis– fuck–” 

Beyond a throaty growl, he said nothing. He simply tightened his hold on your waist, his other hand angling itself so he could better curl the finger inside of you, the combined sensations making your head positively spin. Entirely at his mercy, your hands flew to his soft, blond hair as you effectively surrendered to the pure bliss he granted you. 

If you had been hot and wet already, Ominis’ mouth felt a thousand times more so as he torturously dragged his tongue up your cunt. He removed his finger from your clenching walls and replaced it with the wet muscle, wriggling it as much as he could as though he were desperate to lap up everything that escaped out of you. Your breathing hitched and your hips involuntarily bucked when his ministrations traveled higher towards your clit, and when he finally reached it, the tip of his tongue was slow and methodical as he pressed firm, torturous circles around the throbbing bundle.

Ordinarily, having Ominis appreciatively go down on you would have been the highlight of the night, but given his domineering persona at present, you knew you were just plain fucked now. 

“Ominis, please,” you managed to croak out. “I’m not going to last, I– ah!” You practically yelped when the tips of the man’s teeth raked along your inner thigh, nipping at the soft skin there hard enough for you to jolt. 

“Just relax and let me work,” he muttered coolly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the spot he’d bitten as he dragged his hands down your abdomen to squeeze your tensing thighs. 

Despite your best efforts, you were quickly losing your grip on anything other than the sensations Ominis was lavishing you with. You felt lightheaded as you attempted to release your tense muscles, struggling to do so as your lover devoured you with reckless abandon. His nose brushed against your clit as he slipped his tongue inside of you once more, the sound of his wet, suckling noises intermingling with your breathy whines as you felt your climax building higher and higher in your gut. You couldn’t tell if your arousal was stemming from how Ominis enthusiastically used his tongue, lips, and teeth on you or if it came from the demanding way he directed you, but you decided that you didn’t care; every feeling had burrowed deep inside of you and taken root in your mind. 

You wanted more– no, needed more. 

Head whacking back against the wooden bed frame, you needily tugged at the strands of his hair wrapped around your fingers as you pleaded, “Please, Ominis, I need you…” 

Those five words did more to stroke his ego than you would ever know. Right now, Ominis needed you to need him. He wanted you to succumb to his ministrations and bend to his will, all to parry the baseless demands of his deranged family. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever willingly hand you over to them– much less to Marvolo– and through your rapture-filled begging, he knew he had succeeded. 

You were wholly and unequivocally his. 

He pulled away for a moment to run his hands up your thighs, over your hips, then along the pebbled peaks of your breasts. The way you trembled at his touch told him everything he needed to know; you were hanging on by a thread, and he didn’t need to see you in order to know you looked absolutely wrecked. 

Unable to endure a second more of the teasing, Ominis raised himself up on his knees to remove his clothing. Swiftly and efficiently, he dexterously undid the catch of his trousers before shoving the constricting attire down his narrow hips. There was no stopping the sigh of relief that spilled through his clenched teeth as his cock finally sprung free– long, heavy, and leaking from the red, swollen tip. With his shirt disheveled, hair mussed, and pants haphazardly hanging below his hip bones, he was truly the picture of temptation. You stared up at him through hooded eyes as he stroked himself a few times, taking in the sight of your lover towering over you as you lay prone atop the sheets beneath him. 

Once again, Ominis’ uncanny ability to feel your eyes on him surprised you, and a cheshire-like smirk blossomed across his face as he asked, “Enjoying the view?” 

“More than you are, I’d wager,” you retorted, and Ominis scoffed as his smug expression turned into one of amused disbelief. That mouth of yours was bound to land you in trouble one of these days. 

“Smartass,” he murmured affectionately, keeping one hand on his shaft as the other reached down in search of your waist, squeezing the flesh there with a bruising strength that only served to intensify the ache between your legs. You aided him by wriggling down the sheets in order to press your ass against his bent knees, and Ominis lowered himself once more so the heavy weight of his cock rested against your spit-slick folds. It was hard for you to believe that the wild haired, smokey-eyed man kneeling between your legs was the same boy who had shyly walked with you to your classes all those years ago. Both of his hands pressed against your hips this time as he sat back on his heels, white teeth flashing as he aligned the head of his manhood against your entrance. 

“Are you ready for me, darling?” Ominis asked, as though you hadn’t been begging for this very outcome minutes before. 

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily, your hands twisting in the fabric of your long-abandoned bathrobe beneath you. “I’m–”

Despite his privileged upbringing, Ominis was a fan of the simple things in life. Good food, long walks during the warmer seasons, and the sound of your voice catching when he took you by surprise and slid inside you abruptly. In one fluid motion, he breached your walls, listening intently to your sharp intake of breath as he inched himself forward until his knees were under your rear and he’d bottomed out completely. The small whimper that slipped from your mouth had a deep, throaty chuckle escaping his, and his thumbs took to tracing encouraging circles against your hips as you clenched around him. 

“I’m sure you are,” he purred in an infuriatingly sexy tone while you struggled to regain control over your breathing. Instantly, the dim embers of lust within you were rekindled, every inch of your body warm and borderline electric. Your hips writhed in Ominis’ hold in an attempt to wriggle closer, the unyielding grip he had on you coupled with the hungry expression on his face almost enough to make you come undone then and there. 

“Fuck, Ominis–” your words were cut short by a stifled moan as the blond slowly withdrew himself, arching back until only the tip of his cock was inside you before slamming his hips forward in one quick, sharp thrust. Your hands flew to his clothed knees as you dug your nails into the rumpled material of his trousers, desperate to touch every inch of him that you could but struggling to catch your breath in the midst of his slow, methodical thrusts. 

Well, methodical at first. 

You could feel Ominis’ acute desire for you with every pump of his hips, and a groan snaked its way out of his chest as he freed one of his hands to reach down and thumb over your clit. You hissed triumphantly through your teeth as you saw his expression slowly shift into something needier, his thrusts becoming less precise and more visceral. With how tight he was gripping you, you were positive the healed bruise from earlier would be replaced by long, finger shaped stripes, but you didn’t care. If it was Ominis, it was fine. If it was him claiming you, branding you, consuming you, it was more than fine. 

The blue-eyed incubus above you seemed to think similarly, if the low rumble in his chest was anything to go by. He was absolutely lost in the euphoria that came with being encased in your pulsing, tight heat, causing him to abandon his pretenses of control and give into his want for you with gusto. The hand he had on your sensitive bundle of nerves returned to grasp your waist, and even elevated as he was, he still had to thrust down into you– shaking the headboard with every plunge as he effectively fucked you into the mattress. 

The distinction was clear and evident in your mind as your legs came to wind around Ominis’ waist; the two of you had obviously been intimate before, and you had definitely made love before, but you had never been so carnally fucked like this a day in your life. It was hard to recall if Ominis had ever ravished you with such need in every stroke, enough so that you found yourself unable to control your shaking breaths or the volume of your voice. It was enrapturing– getting caught up in the way he staked his claim on you– so intent on fucking himself harder and deeper into you that his own husky murmurs of your name fell from his lips like a mantra. 

Your inability to fight your moans and curses and feverish pleas for more was what Ominis lived for. The blond craved the sound of your voice like a drug, and he drew unparalleled strength from your vocal satisfaction. Maybe it had more to do with the events of the night than anything else, but hearing you cry his name and feeling you claw at the tops of his thighs made his chest swell with possessive affection, thrilled to hear you unwittingly proclaim that you were in fact his. No one else would ever have you– no one else would ever find themselves lucky enough to have you reduced to such a state beneath them other than him. 

“M-More,” you practically sobbed the request as Ominis gripped your hips tighter, dimly registering the thundering crack of the headboard banging against the wall. “More– please– I’m s-so close–”

You asked for it with each breath expelled from your lungs, and Ominis would graciously give it to you. He couldn’t have refused you any longer if he wanted to. “You want to come, darling?” He panted, receiving only whimpering nods in return. “Ask.” 

“P-Please, please let me come, I can’t–” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your teeth clenched together hard enough to make your jaw pop. You teetered on the brink of oblivion, waiting only on Ominis’ say-so to fall over the edge which seemed to loom so, so close. 

“Beg,” Ominis rasped thickly, his fingers tightening and digging into the skin of your hips as he bucked harder against your ass. “Beg for it– beg for me to let you come.” 

You couldn’t even find the brainpower to realize he was demanding to hear you say it to fuel his unrepentant hold on you. The taunting, the pleasure laced brutality– it was all to assuage the bitter anger that had coursed through his veins upon hearing his family refer to you as tradeable cattle. Later on, he would be collected enough to reassure you that you were your own person, free to make your own decisions and go wherever your heart desired. 

Right now though, his baser urges had won out, and he needed to hear you say it. 

Your head slammed into the pillows as your back arched off the mattress, doing your best to shut out the mounting pleasure that threatened to break through your crumbling resolve. “Please, Ominis! Please let me–” you hiccuped around another gasp, the ache in your gut bordering on unbearable. “L-Let me… let me…”

One of his hands released your waist to feel up your torso and curl around the back of your neck, lifting your head off of the pillow so your eyes were on him as he uttered five words that struck something deep inside of you. 

“Then come for me, love.” 

Your breaking point smacked into you hard and fast, leaving you equally breathless and brainless as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out cry of Ominis’ name. Your climax ripped through you ferociously, your vision flashing white and your muscles tensing for a moment of near perfect silence as your lover continued to thrust in and out of you with unwavering focus. Even after you’d collapsed back against the sheets and gone limp in his arms, Ominis continued to chase his own finish, balancing precariously over you on his elbows and burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle the shaky groans he failed to bite back. 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he continued to murmur quiet declarations against your skin that sounded a lot like, “Mine.” 

Before long, Ominis was following you over the edge with a throaty purr that slithered out of his throat. His arms trembled on either side of your head, his hands gathering fistfuls of the pillows as he buried himself completely inside of you with one final plunge of his hips. You heard the blond moan hoarsely in your ear as he spilled into you, grinding against your ass to milk every last drop of his seed from his twitching member, and when he mouthed wetly against the sweat-slick column of throat before biting down, all you could focus on was the warmth that filled you as you quivered under him. 

After a few moments of the two of you panting softly, you lifted your hands to Ominis’ clothed back in a bid to usher him to the side. He tensed, however, and you paused as he wedged one of his arms under your back to hold you flush to him as he continued to re-center himself. “Not yet,” you heard him grumble into the hollow of your throat. “Not yet… give me a second.” 

“…Alright,” you relented quickly, only mildly concerned as you wrapped your arms around his slender shoulders. With your fingers tracing lazy shapes against his clothed back, you allowed yourself to enjoy the feeling of Ominis’ weight pressing down on you, his gentle exhales fanning against your clammy skin, and the steady rhythm of his heart beating against your sternum. 

Given the severity of what had happened at his family’s house, you weren’t sure the two of you would ever get another moment like this again. So, you held on tightly to him in the hopes that the night would last just a little bit longer. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours but realistically could only have been a few minutes, and shortly after Ominis began peppering kisses up your throat and along your jaw, your eyes drifted shut as you dozed off once more. When you woke the following morning and found yourself tucked in beneath the sheets, you propped yourself up on your elbow to glance around the otherwise empty room, noting immediately that Ominis was nowhere to be found. 

In a panicked flurry of movement, you threw off the blankets and were still tying your robe around your waist as you hurriedly shuffled down the hallway. Your dread was smothered in the next instant by overwhelming ease as you rounded the corner to find Ominis in the kitchen, gripping the countertop and working a muscle in his jaw while he hovered his wand over a letter that looked eerily similar to the one he’d received just a day ago. 

Even though he could hear you approaching, he said nothing as you padded across the room to stand behind him, coiling your arms around his waist to press your front against his back. A shaky sigh escaped him, and you stared at the wall as you contemplated your words before deciding on, “What are you reading?” 

A pause, “A formal summons for you, inviting you to meet my family officially.” 

Your heart fell into your stomach, arms tightening around the taller man a fraction as you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. “We won’t go,” you announced, and Ominis shifted in your embrace so he could wrap his arms around you to hug you back with a firmness that spoke volumes of his agreement. 

“We won’t,” he said. “But we can’t stay here, either. Not anymore.” 

“I know.” 

He buried his chin in the mess of hair atop your head, shamelessly inhaling your scent before he told you, “We have to leave– go somewhere far away– and we can’t tell anyone.” 

“I know.” 

The way his nimble fingers gripped the back of your robe told you of just how conflicted he was to ask this of you– to uproot your shared lives here to flee the meddling of his family. His voice was laced with remorse as he asked, “And you’re okay with that? Truly?”

“I am,” and you really were. There wasn’t a lick of hesitation in your voice– not a shred of apprehension hidden in your tone at the prospect of packing up and running as far from here as humanly possible. “So long as we’re together, I am.” 

Ominis skimmed his hands up your back to cup your cheeks, angling your head up at him so he could kiss you fully, and you returned the gesture with equal fervor. As long as he was with you, you knew you could do anything. With Ominis by your side, you would fight tooth and nail against every hellish creature or person in existence to ensure your future together. 

Wherever the two of you ended up, you already knew that your home wouldn’t just be some place. It would always be him.

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 9

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: smut, fluff, cuddling, fingering, breeding kink, size kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sweet/dirty talk, and of course Parseltongue 🐍

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16 @shameless0shenanigans @imaslytherpuff @adoxra

Her fingers curled around his, with Ominis holding them beside her head while he laid kisses all over her neck. He licked the sweat that pooled there and smiled when he felt her purr. His hot breath, coming fast but still so soft, sent shivers down her body, her every muscle, and the tension settled right at her aching womanhood.

“O-ominis,” she moaned, sinking her nails into his knuckles — not enough to hurt, but just enough that he would feel it.

“My love,” he whispered back, trailing kisses down the centre of her neck, “my little wife, my own, my only, mine…”

She felt it when he braced his elbows on the bed, still holding her hands beside her, still pressing her down with his whole body and her legs spread around his waist, and then she felt something poking at her core.

“Aaahh…” she gasped, “t-that’s…”

“Shhh… easily, my darling, lightly…”

Her eyes were wide, staring through the dark, looking at where he would be. He was so hard and dripping wet against her, his tip feeling feverish compared to the rest of his skin and still only parly peeking out of its soft covering. Ominis pressed his lips against her jaw and slowly, carefully, pulled upward, dragging his chest against her straining nipples, his thighs against her bottom, and tried to press inside of her. His manhood slid against her wetness and the head bumped into her mound before he canted his hips back and settled it back at her entrance. Her folds surrounded it, hugging it, pulsing around him in a kiss.

Ominis slowly pulled back before thrusting forward again, driving his straining manhood right toward her hole. She whined and shivered, and nearly closed her legs in surprise at the feeling, but he was there holding her apart with his thighs.

“Won’t go,” he muttered, but then he soothed his own frustrations with a sigh. “We’ll have to see to that then, won’t we?”

Before she could ask what he meant, his fingers touched her core again. She arched up involuntarily as he began to tease her, playing loudly in her wetness and dragging it up to her nub. His other hand went up to hold her head, gentling her frowns with his thumb.

After flicking her bud quite mercilessly, he dipped his hand a little lower and felt for her hole, then entered it — just with one finger, just trying her. Her lips parted in a gasp that Ominis quickly silenced with a kiss. When he got to the first knuckle, he pulled back, then thrust inside a bit deeper, then deeper still, until it was halfway inside.

“So tight, my little love is,” he whispered against her lips. “Are you scared?”

“N-no…”

“Good,” he smiled, kissing her lips again. “I wish only to take care of you, please you, pleasure you, my heart...”

When his finger was nearly all the way to the root, his thumb began to rub her nub. She mewled at the sensation and reached up to kiss him, burying her pleas into his mouth. Ominis took them gladly, chuckling against her lips while he kept toying with her.

With his hand still there, he thrust his hips forward and tried to enter her again, testing how open she was — but still no luck. His middle finger eased out, then back in, fighting through the clenching of her inner muscles.

“Relax, my love,” he whispered between kisses, “I need to part you…”

“I… I’m trying…”

“Is it not good?”

“It is,” she whimpered, “it is, it’s so…”

“Good,” he smiled, kissing her breathless again.

A second finger slid into her hole, and his hand found a rhythm, pushing in and out while rubbing her button raw, spreading her own juices around her throbbing folds, and all the while his manhood was right there, threatening to enter her.

Kissing down her chin and past the necklace, Ominis settled on her breasts. His hand left her head to cup them, pressing them together carefully so that he could suckle on them both at once. She yelped and writhed, giggling insanely at the pleasure he brought her from every direction, but he just kept diligently working on her. Every act was deliberate and measured, as if he’d thought it through a thousand times. The fingers moved faster, deeper, stretching her out, and her nub began to twitch from overstimulation.

“Om-minis,” she sighed, shivering from head to toe, “I… I can’t…”

“You can,” said Ominis, voice muffled by her breasts, “you will. I’ll make you…”

“Can’t… can’t…” she pleaded, head lazing back, chest heaving, fingers curling in the sheets.

But her legs spread of their own accord and she began to tilt her hips toward his fingers, and a lick of fire started spreading from her core down to her thighs and up her tummy. He felt it, and nibbled on her breasts a little harder while his fingers curled deliciously inside her.

“Ominis!” she moaned, and every sound after that was a wordless cry of pleasure as orgasm overtook her.

He kept suckling on her breasts and fingering her, thrusting in and out with the fingers curled just right, and once she began to clench around him, he shoved them deep. He held there, as far inside as he could reach, feeling her convulse around him on and on, until it stopped. The thumb kept flicking her bud, nail scraping against it lightly until she stopped shivering.

When he pulled away from her, a trail of slick followed like a delicate string, stretching out until it snapped and stuck to her inner thigh. His tongue lapped at her breasts more slowly, lips following their every rise and fall, until her breathing settled. Between her legs, his thumb rested on her pearl until it too calmed down and ceased its twitching.

“O-Omi—” she breathed, not able to finish his name before he began to shove himself inside of her.

“There you are,” he whispered breathlessly, “there’s my love… Stay still…”

With his still wet hand, he grabbed onto one hip to hold her down as the head of his manhood pushed into her. The tip popped in first, stretching her far wider than his fingers had, and then the shaft slid in more smoothly. She winced and grit her teeth, feeling far too sensitive after her orgasm, but soon the same familiar pleasure started spreading up and down her body again.

“Aaaah… d-deeper,” she whimpered, arching in the dark, searching for Ominis.

“Gently, my love,” he whispered from above her. “I don’t want to hurt you… You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?”

She nodded distractedly, forgetting that he couldn’t see, but Ominis must’ve felt the motion and chuckled.

“I meant it,” he said, speaking seriously but fondly as his thumb brushed over her hipbone.

“I know…”

He was barely half-way in when he paused, and his whole body stopped. Ominis held himself up on one arm, breathing quietly, listening to her. The pearls and emeralds at her neck chimed with her every inhale. When he felt her ready, he began to thrust again, hips snapping ever so slightly forward, deeper, always deeper, until she hugged his shaft to the root.

They moaned in unison, holding onto each other so tightly they hardly knew anymore where one ended and the other began. She found his hips and embraced him, pulling him ever so slightly closer. Moving carefully, Ominis bent over her and kissed her lips again, far more slowly and desirously than he had that entire night. He laid over her with almost all his weight, holding her down.

His hand on her hip felt hot and sticky. For a moment, she imagined that was blood on his hands, her darling murderous husband. Closing her eyes, she pictured herself painted with it, and she’d never loved him more. Her adoring, tender, dangerous husband…

“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth, “more than anything…”

“And I love you,” Ominis said without pause, leaping down to kiss her again, more aggressively and lovingly this time.

His hips pulled back, dragging his heavy member out of the hug of her womanhood, then snapped back hard, pushing her a little up the bed. She could hardly move without him following, their legs curled around each other’s and their chests sticking together with sweat. His kiss swallowed a surprised little yelp from her.

Every motion touched something in her body that made her want to jump out of her skin, and it took everything she had to not close her legs to him — not that it would have mattered, because he wasn’t going anywhere. He was inside her, plugging her up, forcing her open, bullying her hole past its overstimulation into accepting what he gave it.

“Stay as you are,” Ominis breathed, chuckling tiredly against her sweaty neck. “How am I to give you what you need if you close yourself to me?”

“I… s-sorry…”

“Shhh, no need for that,” he said sweetly. “Here, let me help…”

With one long, slow thrust, Ominis brought his lips up to her forehead and his hands around her neck and his hips right against hers, and stayed there. He kissed her temple while cupping her throat, just feeling her frantic pulse and breathing, but caressing her with his thumb in one sweet promise that he’ll hold her down more firmly should she try to move again. His thighs were flush against her behind, and his sac was getting soiled with her juices. She whined and arched, body protesting against being so full, but Ominis held, and held, and held there. He was keeping his promise to her, mating with her like a snake.

“There you are,” he whispered against her hairline. “That’s my good little wife… Keep it right there…”

“Too big,” she whined, bucking her hips nervously. It only managed to tease her more.

“Relax,” he whispered, “stop fighting it…”

“Yes,” she sobbed, nodding her head against his shoulder, “I’m trying…”

Ominis cooed at her and slid a hand lower again, palm tracing a heavy path down her sensitive breasts, her waist, her hip, before it pushed its way between their bodies. Suddenly, he began to flick her clit again, playing with it roughly while his shaft lay inside her to the hilt. She tensed up and cried, a small tear of wetness tickling down her folds as her body reached a point of almost unbearable overstimulation again.

“Kiss me again,” she begged, her voice breaking with half-moans. “Kiss me, I need it, I —”

He chuckled and slid down her body, his lips landing on her cheek, her nose, and then her mouth. He sipped on her pleasured murmurs and began to move his finger around her nub at the same leisurely pace as his kiss. When he released her lips, it was only to move even lower and kiss her breasts. She wailed loudly when he pulled one puckered bud into his mouth and suckled while he caught her clit between two fingers and pinched it, catching it again and again when it slipped from how wet it was.

“Please,” she cried, “please, please, Omi —”

Her begging did something to him. Ominis moaned deep in his throat and she could feel his manhood kick while still inside her. He finally pulled back, then slammed up into her again, working up a frantic pace that would have moved her up the bed if not for his hand holding her down by the throat.

She filled the room with moans and clung to him as he brought her to another shaky, ravaged orgasm. His hand stilled, but his shaft worked her through it, keeping her pulsing channel stretched and struggling to contain him. She was still twitching from her released when he began to messily rub her nub once more.

“No,” she groaned between hysterical bouts of laughter at how sensitised she was, “can’t… Too much…”

“That’s what you said last time,” he said, smirking with her breast still between his lips. “You can take it…”

“I caaan’t…”

“Don’t you want to be a good wife for me?” he whispered, moving to the other breast and sucking noisily at it. “Can’t make a family if you’re not good…”

“Y-you want that? With me?”

“Don’t you?”

She’d always known Ominis to hate his family, and he’d expressed in not so many words the intention to have them die out, at least so far as he could help it. She didn’t dare to hope that him getting rid of the rest of the Gaunts would have changed his plans in that regard, but hearing him say it made her heart rush.

“I… I do,” she said once she caught her breath. The necklace rattled against her collar when she tilted her head slightly, looking down toward him in the dark, though she could hardly see him. “I want it v-very much, in fact…”

Her admission seemed to breathe new life into Ominis. He grinned, and the breath of his laughter cooled her skin before he dipped again and kissed her, moving from one breast to the other quickly, then right at the centre where her heart was beating.

His hand at her neck worked its way upward, tangling in her hair, while at her womanhood his fingers played in her wetness. He scooped up a bit of her release and dragged it to her mound, making a mess of her, teasing her with how much she’d already spilt for him. Very slowly, mindful of how sensitive she was, his hips began to cant up into her again.

But he was more gentle this time, taking up the slow pace of earlier. She could tell from his quick puffs of breath that he was holding back.

“Ominis,” she moaned, threading her shaky fingers though his hair, “please, finish inside me…”

He responded with a groan and one harder, sharper thrust. “I will,” he promised. “I’ll fill you up so much your body won’t have a choice but to let itself be bred…”

“Yes, yes, please, I need it!”

“So good for me,” he whined. “You’re all soft now… So plush, so wet…”

He stretched his legs and braced himself against the bed to push more deeply into her, hands going up to hold her wrists down on the bed, rendering her flat beneath him. He was conquering her inside and out, holding her down with his weight and moving just his hips in sharp, deep shoves. Her folds throbbed, lavishing his sac with kisses whenever it slapped against them.

He felt her clenching around him and hissed, whispering nonsense against her dampened flesh in Parseltongue. She stilled at hearing it, frightened for a split second at that forbidden language that slid down her ears like ice, but rather than making her afraid, it aroused her even more. Her hands slid from his grasp down to his back and she clung to him, whimpering in surrender.

With one hard thrust inside her, Ominis abandoned her breasts and his lips found her throat again, tongue slipping against it between serpentine words as his hips thrust harder and harder, battering her walls, and then he stilled.

“Aaaah!” he cried, burrowing his face in her soft hair. “That’s it… there it is, take it…”

The moan he gave felt almost fragile, like he fell apart when he came inside of her. His hand went down again and worked her nub with frantic urgency. When she felt his thick, hot seed spill into her, warming her up from the inside, she shattered and clenched around him, crying out fragments of his name. Her thighs tightened on his hips, her entrance clenched around his manhood, and she felt him holding still as deep inside as he could reach while he released every drop he had from his throbbing, heavy sac.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much…”

Her hands shook as they clung to him, trying to bring him even more close to her. His cheek was pressed against the necklace so hard it must’ve hurt, but he didn’t care. His manhood kicked inside the tight hug of her walls with each pulse of seed that spilt from it, until gradually, it stopped.

She sighed and kissed his temple as she came down from her orgasm, nuzzling her face into his hair.

“I love you too,” she said, “more than you can know…”

“I’m glad,” said Ominis with a breathless laugh. “There was a time I was afraid you never would…”

She cupped his cheek and pulled his face away from her neck, easing him toward her so that she could catch his lips with hers.

“Well, I do,” she murmured with a smile against his mouth. “And I always will.”

They clung to each other as they caught their breath. His length was still inside, still plugging her up, and her legs were sapless as they rested wrapped around him. When they started feeling heavy and lazy, they slid over to their side, snuggling together in a wet and messy tangle.

Her leg was resting over his hip now, and his length slid out of her. With it, a few dollops of the seed he’d left inside trickled out. It felt like a tongue licking a path out from inside of her. She trembled and moaned at the feeling, and Ominis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Are you all calm now, my sweet?” he whispered as he caressed her cheekbone. “Sated, are you?”

“Very,” she hummed. “For now…”

“For now, huh?”

“At least until I hear you speaking Parseltongue again…”

“Oh, d-did I… during…?”

“You did,” she moaned, stretching forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. “And you will again if you wish to keep your wife happy.”

Ominis chuckled, and she could’ve sworn he blushed. “Anything your heart desires…”

Slow and lazy, she slid closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It desires you,” she said, resting her forehead against his.

“Good,” he smiled. “You have me. And you shall have more and more of me from now on…”

She giggled, feeling madly infatuated with him all over again, and reached forward to plant another kiss on his lips. She breathed in the scent of his body, basking in his warmth, just as he did too. Coiled around each other, safe and sated and finally happy, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[coupleofdays]

Today I was suddenly inspired to write a short piece of Tron fanfiction, based on a headcanon I've mentioned previously. It's about characters from Uprising and Legacy, but it also makes reference to some things from the original 1982 film.

[luralore]

hello! my name is lura and i write fic over on ao3 :) nice to meet you!

21 | they/she | usa

archive of our own: luralore

main fandoms: hp/marauders/hogwarts legacy, house md, the legend of zelda (botw/totk), atla and atlok, vld, bob’s burgers

i’ve been making fan content since 2013 and am still stuck in the fandom trenches. previously @/ah_ch00 but decided to rebrand since returning to writing 🥸 currently rewriting nights spent with a somniphobe (new title revealed soon)! was discontinued in 2020, but oh boy are we back >:)

to stay up to date with the rewrite and other projects i’m working on, follow me here and on ao3– okay bye xx

[k8fics]

Ruined Legacy

My Way to Freedom

summary: Based off “My Way” by Frank Sinatra; Joel & Ellie find a curled up woman in a farmhouse with a freshly dead guy outside — Episode 1 of the ‘Ruined Tragedy’

rating: R - just reader’s backstory & character building (my bad), some joel splattered in there tho, she cannot catch a break, abusive/toxic relationship (not joel), murder, brutally killings, dead parents, captivity (kinda? idk man), thoughts of suicide, cussing, hopefully that’s all

And now the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

I still remember how my mother woke me up that night; tears streamed down her face, and her entire body shook. How she frantically grabbed my hand, pulled me towards the basement door, sat me down on the cold ground, and told me to wait down there while she received a call for help from my father.

I still remember how I stared at the small window, covered by the dusty curtain. How the lights from the outside world showed through the glass, the orange hues, the flashes of car lights, the shadows of people’s feet running away.

I still remember waking up down there. This time, my parents were with me, arguing over each other. My mother paced with her arms flailing out, my father leaning on the concrete wall with his arms crossed.

“We can’t just leave! You heard the TV, we’re instructed to stay inside!” She yelled.

“And you saw what’s out there. We have to get out of here, who knows if they’ll start bombing again.” He said calmly. She only sighed in response, stopping and looking directly at me.

I stayed silent, still acting like I’m asleep. But she could tell I was awake. Mom always could tell. She walked over to me, with a smile. Although, the smile was fake. I could tell she was scared.

She put her hands on my face, I leaned into her. “Hey, baby... We gotta go, let’s start packing.” She said, pulling me up.

As I walked to my room, and she walked to hers, I looked out the window. Your neighbor’s house still burning from the night before, the ground covered in blood and ash. The world has gone to complete shit.

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my chase of which I’m certain

“Who the fuck are you?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by a gravelly voice. You looked up to see a girl and a man. You glanced around to see you were in the same room you had been stewing in for the past day.

You opened your mouth to speak, lips cracked from the lack of moisture. “..I stay here.” You stated, not in the most cohesive terms though.

The man still had his gun pointed at you, looking at you and then at your surroundings. “So why is there a freshly dead guy on your porch?” It was like he was a detective investigating you. Although, a detective’s attitude would be less intimidating than his.

“I killed him.”

I’ve lived a life that’s full

I travelled each and every highway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My father was always a survivalist. He taught me how to make a fire out of sticks, how to hunt — even when I was begging him not to make me shoot an innocent creature, — and, starting last year, how to defend myself.

He said something about ‘it was better to be prepared and nothing happen than to be unprepared and have something happen.’ I guess he was right, at least we’re prepared. Though, I don’t think he expected his 16-year-old daughter to be using these skills so soon.

After the first month of walking through decaying neighborhoods, buildings, and streets, I was put on map duty. I didn’t mind it, it helped me think. I didn’t want to think about who and what was lost, how all my friends were gone, how my life and future were ruined.

Regrets I’ve had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exception

The walking was the worst part, and although the pain in my feet was unbearable, the pain of walking away from the only life I’ve ever known hurt more. I wished I could have told that guy in my 3rd period I liked him, I wished I told my friends I loved them more, and I wished I could be with them without my parents grieving my death.

I wish I didn’t have to kill. Even though it was only a few, it kept me up at night. I would close my eyes and only see their bloodied faces. I would fall asleep and see them beside me.

I tried so hard to not let it get to me. I had to do it. If not for them, it would’ve been me. Maybe it would’ve been me.

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

My parents met Tim as they were going on a supply run while we were stationed at an old house. He had been staying in the overgrown convenient store tending to his wounds when they came in.

Dad said the man didn’t even put his gun up just kept his hands above his hands. Mom said he showed them a bunch of supplies that hadn’t expired. They said he was a good man.

I had just planned our next ‘trip’ when they brought him. He was pushy and, honestly, very arrogant. Even if he didn’t show it around my parents. He wasn’t ugly, but I had no attraction toward him.

“I guess he’s just not my type.” I told my mom when she asked why I didn’t ‘give him a chance.’

She laughed at my response, “Well honey, just give him a chance. It’s been 6 years since you went on a date-“

Before she could speak further I interrupted her, “Yeah Mom, 6 years since the world went to shit. I don’t need some guy to protect me, you know? I have you guys for that.”

And she laughed. God, I missed her laugh.

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

It had only been a few months since Tim joined us. I could see something was wrong with him. His eyebrows were always furrowed like he was trying to figure out the hardest math problem. His jaw clenched when my dad talked to him, sometimes I thought he was going to hit him.

To my dismay, he was much pushier. He would constantly want to be around me, he would always go with me on my runs, and, worst of all, he would not stop asking me out.

After the tenth time that week, I had enough. “Where would you take me out to, Tim? What? The woods? The old diner down the street that’s infested with the infected? Oh! Or do you want to go to the shed by the creek where the clickers are?” I said, no yelled.

His face changed completely. The cocky smile contorted into the same expression that scared me throughout these months. “You’re going to regret saying that.” That’s all he said before walking towards his place of residency for the time being.

Later that night, I woke up to several grunts and pleas. As I tried to move my hands up to rub my face, I realized that my body had been attached to a rope wrapped around a tree. I looked around at my surroundings, I was outside in an open area in the woods. In front of me were my parents in the same predicament as myself.

I called for them. They didn’t respond, both of them looking off to the side. I turned my head as much as I could to see what they were looking at. To my shock, it was Tim standing there. Leaned up on a tree, axe in hand. When I called for him instead, that’s when all three of them turned to look at me.

My mom looked like she had been crying for hours. My father looked furious, a face I hadn’t seen in a long time, his face was bruised and bloody. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose bleeding. Tim looked the opposite, he was clean like he had taken a shower moments before, although, his knuckles were bleeding, and his face. God, he looked ecstatic.

He walked over to me, his axe still gripped tightly in his hand. He looked down at me before placing a hand on my face. I flinched, his face looked like it did that afternoon prior.

“You should’ve just except my fucking date. Now, look at what you made me do.” He said.

I shook my head, “Please... My sorry, please don’t do this.” I pled, but all he did was walk over to my parents.

I scream at him for what felt like an eternity but his back still faced me. He only looked at me when he got in the face of my mother. When I looked into his eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to stop, no matter what I did.

I watched him kill them both with the axe. I couldn’t protect them. I could only cry. The most undeserving deaths. Just for what? A date?

He came over to me quickly after killing them both. I had stared at their corpses for so long that I hadn’t noticed him cutting the rope. I ran to them as soon as I was free. Not long after, he came after me.

But through it all when there was doubt

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall

And did it my way

I remember when Tim took me from my home. The way he would talk about my parents was like they were some problem in my life. How I didn’t need them, I was too old anyways. It felt like he was jealous of it all, that I had my family and he didn’t. I found sympathy in him, in a way.

‘Maybe it’s the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in.’ I would think. But then again, he murdered my parents because I wouldn’t date him. Who the fuck does that.

One time I brought it up to him, which landed me on the ground with a hard punch in the face. I didn’t talk for the rest of our travel.

One year later, he found a farmhouse. It was impressive, basically taken out of a Hallmark movie. Though my impression of it changed when I got to the children’s rooms, it didn’t take long for him to start commenting about how we should ‘fill them up.’ Fucking disgusting.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed, and cried

I’ve had my fill, my share of losing

After 13 years of being here, I learned to live — or survive as I like to call it — with him. Sure, I tried to escape a few times, but it never worked out in my favor.

The first time I left, I was gone for a week. I lived in the woods, trying to find some haven which was harder than it looked, considering I didn’t have any access to a map or any weapons. Tim confiscated everything on me the day we left my parents’ rotting bodies.

He found me curled up behind a tree, facing a creek. Fighting him never worked. No amount of self-defense could ever get him down without a weapon. He was bigger than me, and when a stick didn’t work, I gave up.

All the escapes after had been futile, he had set up traps in the woods close to the house, knowing I couldn’t walk on the trail without him seeing me on his day-night searches.

He wanted me to be a stay-at-home-whatever-the-fuck. So fucking be it. I won’t lie, I played the part as much as I could. Whatever would get him to leave me alone. It didn’t work sometimes, but it did for the most part.

So I “loved” him. If love is making him food, cleaning his messes, cleaning his clothes, and letting him hug me.

I laughed at his stupid jokes that I had heard a million times before this shit show.

I cried at night when I had to share a bed with him. Feeling guilty that I couldn’t do anything about this predicament, that I couldn’t find a single sharp thing that could kill him or myself.

And now, as tears subside

I find it all so amusing

He left early that day, earlier than usual. When I woke up he was gone, only leaving a note saying he had gone on another supply run. I scoffed as if we don’t have enough.

I barely know where he goes these days, you would think after all these years, he had found every single store or house, but I guess not.

As I walked to the kitchen, I noticed something abnormal on the table designated for Tim’s backpack. It was a fucking knife.

‘He must’ve left it there when he was searching through it.’ I thought. “Dumbass.” That was all I said before quickly grabbing the handle and pocketing it.

Soon after I was done making eggs — still don’t know where he gets the eggs from, he could’ve at least told me that — he came back. I gave him a short greeting before putting the two plates on the table and sitting down. He sat down next to me, both of us not uttering a single word. It was nice, the silence.

I got up as soon as I was done, cleaning off my plate. Before I could leave, I was entrapped by his arms, pulling me into his chest. I scowl, still not used to touching the horrendous man.

“I love you.” He said. “I-“ Before he could speak any further, I reached behind me and stabbed him the first place I could reach, his left shoulder.

He released me and stumbled away, giving me time to run to the door. As soon as I unlocked and opened the door, I was pushed to the ground, landing on my back onto the dirt in the front yard. Tim was on top of me, panting heavily, his blood and spit dripping down onto my face. I struggled with him as his hands tried to find a way to my neck.

My hands faltered for a millisecond, allowing him to wrap his hands around my neck. I fought with him once more, arms and legs flailing, trying to get him off of me. My attempts were futile. The harder I fought, the harder he gripped my neck.

He smiled menacingly when he saw me losing strength, “You spoiled fucking bitch. After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you're fucking repaying me? Stabbing me with my knife?” He screamed in my face, as I sobbed and kicked.

I accepted my fate, me dying in the hands of the man that has made my life miserable, at least he would leave me alone now. “I should’ve killed you right in front of your mama and daddy.” He said.

Something snapped in me. Sure, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the hatred I consumed for him for years. But I like to think my parents wanted me to avenge their deaths.

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way

Oh no, oh no, not me

I did it my way

As soon as my right hand felt the unfamiliar, cold object, I quickly grabbed it and hit him once in the head with as much force as I could gain. He was on the ground instantaneously. I got up on her feet taking a few breaths before pulling myself into a defensive position. My hands up and set on the metal pipe securely, eyes focused on the battered man’s wheezing form.

To my surprise, he stayed on the ground, back facing me as he groaned in pain. I stepped closer and kicked him in his backside. “Fucking look at me, you coward.” I snarled, “Look at what you fucking did to me!” I screamed at him, kicking him once more.

This time he decided to look at me. Eyes moving towards me away from the afternoon sky, “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He pled with me. And for a second, I thought about letting him go, but I knew that wouldn’t stop him from trying to find me. This had to end.

I took one step towards his battered body before speaking, “I fucking trusted you. My parents trusted you, and you murdered them like it was nothing! You wanted me to think it was nothing!” I screamed, letting out every single emotion I had felt throughout these years. “I have hated you ever since that night. You didn’t fucking save me! You’re a murdering waste of space.” I admitted.

“I saved you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “You didn’t save me. You ruined me.” I said, before hitting him again. I repeated myself once more before hitting him again for good measure.

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

When I was done, the man was unrecognizable. His face caved in, bruises showed through the cracks of his clothes, and dirt covered most of his backside. I looked at the body for what felt like an eternity.

I didn’t drop the pipe in her hand until she made herself back inside the house. Closing the door behind me, walking to the kitchen where I once was. I picked up the knife that Tim had pulled out of his arm, placing it in my back pocket.

I looked around the house, an eery silence following me. As glad as I was that he was gone, the loneliness crept behind me. Not that I’d miss that ugly son of a bitch anyways.

My hands darted to the bags that he had left when he departed, quickly going up to them and ripping them open. There wasn’t much for me, Tim was quite a hoarder. He collected unnecessary things. The bag was no different, besides the cans of food and water bottles, the rest was unneeded random objects. Multiple different pans, silverware, and cups. Clothes that would neither fit him nor myself.

I glanced at his backpack that was left on the table, I aggressively grabbed it and looked through it. For whatever reason, he never let me look through it. Something about him sharing everything with me and he deserved privacy. It was laughable considering that he would do monthly checks of the house looking for secret hiding places where I would put my plans of escape.

I completely emptied the bag, object sprawling all over the ground. I rummaged through them, I stopped when I found a piece of jewelry. “Fucking bastard.” I cursed. It was my mom’s, she said one day, it would be mine. Some kind of generation gift I guess.

When I looked further, I found more of my things from so long ago. It was surprising that he kept all these things but wanted me to let go of all of them, even my parents.

I found my old diary, the mp3 player my dad gave me, and a dusty picture of my family that I had kept under my pillow when my parents were still alive. I called him a bunch of insults before picking up what you wanted and packing them into the, once Tim’s, book bag.

Before I started packing my clothes, I passed a mirror and stopped. I inspected myself, my face covered in his blood, my hands still red from the cold pipe outside, and possibly from Tim’s blood.

I rubbed my face, expecting it to come off easily but it had dried faster than I had originally thought. I rubbed more aggressively, eyes tearing up, whispering, “You ruined me.”

To say the things he truly feels

And not the words of one who kneels

The record shows I took the blows

“Tim was a bad man who murdered my parents,” At that the man’s hold on the gun falters, but still stands his ground, “and kidnapped me. I tried to escape, he tried to strangle me, and I killed him with a pipe.” You summarized.

The girl behind the man sighed, “Joel put the gun down, she doesn’t even have a weapon on her.” She tried to convince him.

You made a face, “Actually, there’s a knife in my back pocket.” You said, making them both turn to look at you.

The man, seemingly named Joel, sighed, “Stand up.” You quickly followed his orders. He reached behind you and smoothly grabbed the knife from your pocket, hands brushing over your ass. “Alright, I believe ya. But I saw that guy’s body, I know what you’re capable of. Do you wanna go somewhere else?” He asks, hovering over you for a few seconds after he stopped talking. He took you in before backing away.

“Only if I get to keep the pipe.” You bargained.

Joel scoffed, “Here’s the deal; I’ll keep the pipe safe until we can trust you, 'kay?”

“Deal.”

And did it my way

-

jesus christ this is so long y’all… hopefully grammarly does me justice bc i’m not reading all of this 😭

[mephi-stopheles]

alright lovelies it’s back and better than ever

[choccy-milky]

sebastian fighting his demons while MC is just 😇? is my fav thing LMAO ((scene from the newest chap of my fic, which you can read here!))

[myrachondria]

me: has 5 WIPs

also me: opens another tab to start a new WIP

[anomalyaly]

Secrets of the Silent Stars Chapter 34: Ranrok is posted. AO3/Wattpad

[theapollochronicles]

WELCOME TO THE PLAYGROUND ©️

APOLLO’S CHRONICLES ⬎

masterlist! | requests: open!!

APOLLO’S FAVORITE HITS ⬎

enjoys writing for: 🥁

arcane | tvdu | dc universe | marvel | atla/lok | RWBY | one piece | toradora! | beastars | demon slayer | fallout | haikyu!! | high rise invasion | horimiya | hyouka | i’m in love with the villainess | my hero academia | my dress up darling | stranger things | the owl house | the promised neverland | toma-chan is a girl | grey’s anatomy | got/hotd | komi can’t communicate | wednesday | wynonna earp | delicious in dungeon | gravity falls | amphibia | fairy tale | helluva boss | hazbin hotel . . . [more coming soon!]

ABOUT APOLLO ⬎

➢ no, i’m not actually the sun god, apollo, that we all know and love. the name’s angelica, but you can call me either apollo or author!

➢ i’m also caitlyn kiramman’s wife [on the record] & a jinx protector [off the record]. (don’t tell bby girl vi, she’ll hurt people)

➢ i have no schedule for my writing so give me a sec to catch up, okay? 😀 if i don’t respond to requests, comments, messages, or other stuff, there’s a possibility i’m binging arcane or grey’s anatomy again (fr someone stop me) 🙇

➢ did i forget to mention i’m rhaenyra targaryen’s wife too?

➢ 🎶

IMPORTANT STUFF ⬎

✎ these warnings are brought to you by THE AUTHOR. there will be no pedophilia, incest, and anything non-consensual in my writing. i will not be writing smut/nsfw with characters who are minors (do not pester me about it, the answer is no) and no shipping them between reader or someone else that is over-age/under-age.

✎ although i say i’ll write smut, there are low chances where i actually write it [the times i do are very rare].

✎ you are allowed to send tropes for me to try and i’ll also be writing fluff, angst, (some) smut — whatever comes to mind.

SOCIAL MEDIA (whaat? they have those? 😱) ⬎

wattpad

tiktok

twitter

ao3?

[slytherinlives]

You should stop starting new fanfics if you’re never going to finish them. It’s so annoying trying to find a new fic to read but SURPRISE they’re never finished because the author started something new.

Okay.

[tyto-and-tenebricosa]

The Lost Quill (Metal Beak/Surtr x Nyra x Unknown)

Summary: Nyra lost her quill and now searches for a solution. Luckily, her husband saves her, though he needed a bit of convincing to do so.

Characters: Lord High Tyto Metal Beak/Surtr, Queen Nyra

Relationship/s: Metal Beak/Surtr X Nyra X Unknown

Warnings: None

Important: I'm not a native English speaker, so please excuse any grammar and spelling mistake.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Nyra and her quills did not have a good relationship.

She lost them quite often and not rarely, they had disappeared for days and had reappeared in the most absurd areas. The forge, the kitchen, the training hall...heck, she even found one in the dining hall once!

Metal Beak has gotten...used to it.

By now, hearing the question "Where is my quill?" has become a part of his life. When Nyra needed to write something down, which, to her credit, was rare as she excellent memory, he knew that it would be asked the second she got her talon on a piece of paper.

And today, when it was early in the morning, it was no different.

"Surtr, my love. Where is the quill?"

Metal Beak sighed and looked up from where he was waxing his mask while drinking his cup of morning tea, his dominant talon, the right one, halting in its current movement. His seeing eye blinked, his pupil shrinking as it readjusted to the light of the room, which was dim since the sun has yet to rise, and the lit candles were few and far between.

"Again?" he asked, rising his bushy eyebrows. A nice touch on his, for Nyra, still very handsome face.

"Yes, again." The female hissed as she walked over to yet another nearby desk, searching through the drawers with hasty movements. "I swear it's around here somewhere. I wrote down some notes last night, so it has to be!"

"Are you certain that you have used your own?" Metal Beak asked, rising his eyebrows further. Nyra stopped in her tracks and shot him a look.

"Yes. Yes, I am." She shot back, beginning to grab the items within the drawer, putting them onto the wooden platform that was covered with a beautiful tablecloth in an attempt to finally find the missing quill. "I hardly doubt that our beloved would use one that is barely the size of MY talon. Let alone HIS!"

Metal Beak hummed, his eyelids lowering. Good argument.

"Very well. Where did you use it last?" He asked, finally setting the tools down, ready to help her to spare her hours upon hours of solo searching. Nyra stopped in her tracks, blinking as she tried to remember the events of yesterday night. It was a bit difficult, given that she had been so tired that she had fallen asleep on her chair. She could barely remember her husband forcing her to get up and go to bed.

"I...believe that I wrote something down at my workstation yesterday." She hummed, squinting her eyes. "That is when I recall last holding it. However, I'm unsure if I used it afterwards." She glanced at him, her golden/blue eyes meeting his golden ones. "Did you see it when you brought me to bed?"

Metal Beak stopped, trying to recall the state of the desk as he had pulled his beloved from her hobby. However, he could only shake his head. "No, my love. I have merely visited your workstation to get you to bed. I have not paid any attentions to the utensils laying on its surface." He answered, blinking when Nyra huffed in annoyance.

"The hagsmire! Where have I put it?" she hissed as she switched drawers, clicking it beak as she opened it to grab the key, her movements growing hastier as her rage grew. "I need it! The notes do not take themselves!"

"Can you not just take one of the hundred other quills that I have had made for you?" the Lord High Tyto asked, watching her storm over to the door that led to her workshop.

"If I could find one that works, yes!" she huffs as she unlocks the door and storms inside. Seconds later, he heard loud noises emitting from the dark room, telling him that she was now at the conjoined wooden desks, tearing through them to find it. Oh his beloved wife, he loved her, no matter how clumsy she was with her quills.

With a small, rare smile on his beak, he turned back to his mask, reaching for his cup to take a sip before reaching for his cloth. He continued to work on it for about 20 minutes before she stormed out of her workshop, still quill-less. The look on her face mirrored the frustration that she felt deep within her core.

"Did you find it?" he asked her, not looking up. He already knew the answer, but he could not help himself.

"No." she said bluntly, shaking her head. She sounded exhausted now, and since his face was hidden from her view, he did not even try to stop the smug grin that spread over his face. She walked over to him and lowered herself onto one of the many seats. "I cannot find anything in that mess."

"So you finally admit that you need to tidy up your workspace." he asked, finally lifting his head to glance at her again, his face back to normal.

"Surtr, it is not always like this." she pointed out, reaching for the teapot to pour herself a cup of tea. She needed it. "I am simply working on a project. Once it is done, I will return it to its clean state. But I simply cannot clean up every single time the night comes and I am in the middle of it. It would take me forever and would cause nothing but inconveniences."

"The illusion of delusion." he said, watching as she blew at the surface of the hot liquid before taking a careful sip.

"Not everyone can be so focused on keeping everything spotless." she shot back, though there was no real heat in her words. "As soon as you get a little bit of blood on any of your weapons or armor, you spend so much time cleaning it. I am surprised that you haven't scrubbed anything out of existence yet."

"I am merely focusing on keeping them presentable. I am the Lord High Tyto, Nyra. Appearance is important." he argued, watching her take another, longer sip. She closed her eyes as the taste, finally letting herself enjoy it. Beautiful. "Additionally, these blades were a gift from our beloved, and I do not want it to be soiled by an unworthy's blood."

Those words brought a genuine smile on her face and for a moment, everything was silent, the two owls mourning the absence of their beloved. While temporary, it still weighed heavily on them. However, it was soon interrupted by Nyra's soft, angelic sigh.

"Well, while I appreciate the small change in subject, it does not change that I require a quill for work today." she began, slurping a bit more of her tea. "And I still cannot find one of mine that works."

"Have you truly misplaced all of them?" Metal Beak asked in disbelief as he himself drank a little more. Nyra sighed and nodded with a troubled expression on his face.

"Yes, sadly I did." she admitted, her words accompanied by a soft nod. "They are...somewhere, spread throughout the entire palace. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them is in the dungeons."

He snorted, shaking his head. "A fortune for so many quills, and you have managed to lose all of them."

"My love, you bought 20, and I am constantly on the move. It is a little easer to lose quills for me than it is for you. Most of yours are here, in your private studies or in the throne room, after all. And if you DO take them with you, you attach them to your body as if they are a part of you." she argued, rolling her eyes as she reminded herself how overly careful her husband was with all of his possessions.

"Nyra, the reason I have rarely ever lost one is because I give each quill a purpose. I have four of them, one for here, one for my private studies, one for the throne room and one for on the move." he explained probably for the hundredth time, enjoying the look of utter annoyance that now became visible in her visible features. They had this conversation more often than she could count. "You, on the other hand, just take one quill, take it with you wherever you go with no order whatsoever. Additionally, you have this infuriating habit of setting them down on the nearest surface instead of strapping them to your body or to the list. This results in you forgetting them."

The look his wife gave him almost made him laugh. She looked downright enraged. "Surtr, you are my leader and my beloved husband, and I adore and respect you to the stars and back, BUT..." she took a deep breath, pressing her wings tightly against her side. "No, just no."

Metal Beak grinned smugly, unable to hide his expression this time. He had known that this reaction would follow his words, it always did. Nyra hated to be reminded of her bad habits, as few as they were. It irritated her, brought her blood to boil. This one in particular, though, angered her the most because it caused direct inconvenience.

"Your denial is exceptional." he snorted, drinking a bit more of his tea before he reached for the cloth again. He continued to work on his mask, listening to his wife's words as she continued to speak.

"And this old lecture annoying." she shot back, but there was no real heat in her words. "Can you not find any other response when we speak about this? Something more original? Or do you have to repeat yourself like the lyrics of an alcoholic's melody."

Metal Beak chuckled roughly, shaking his head, though this time, he did not look up. He had to get this done soon to be able to leave his quarters and get to work. The stacks of paperwork and the responsibility as a leader was not waiting for him, and he had to tackle the tasks before they would stack and become overwhelming. It happened once and he didn't want it to happen again, as this would not only take countless of hours of his already scarce free time but also prevented him to spend time with his beloveds. And that was something that REALLY irked him.

"Same old issue, same old lecture." he replied simply, rubbing off a speck of dirt that he oversaw earlier. "If you want to hear something new, create a new issue."

"You say this as if I purposefully create problems to make our lives harder." she said, giving him another one of those looks. He looked up again and grinned a little.

"Maybe." he teased her, and Nyra reached for a napkin to throw at him. Something she would NEVER do in the open, as she knew that the consequences would be severe then. But this was not public, this was their private life. They were not the Lord High Tyto and the Ablah General right now. They were simply husband and wife who loved and, occasionally, teased each other. 

He, of course, caught it and used it to wipe some liquid off of the side of his beak that had managed to escape, something he had to do quite often as the large missing part of upper beak made it quite difficult to drink and eat without slobbering like a hatching that has not yet figured out its body.

It had been embarrassing in the first few years, but by now, he and both of his beloveds were used to it. He just ate and drank with extra napkins.

Nyra rolled her eyes at the causal demonstration of his skills, a love drunk smile on her beak as he folded it and elegantly placed it beside the plate on which his teacup stood. She doesn't comment on it though. Not today at the very least, or else they wouldn't leave these quarters for a few more hours.

A several more minutes of silence followed in which Nyra tried to figure out what to do. She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as she strained her big, highly intelligent brain in that pretty head. She reopened her eyelids when she came to a conclusion, eyeing her husband as he finished up the last bit of work on his mask. She waited a bit further, watching as he took another sip and wiping his broken beak before leaning back, enjoying the taste of the tea before he would drink a second one.

There were always two morning teas, one to wake up and one to get enough energy to actually start the day. It had been a routine she had ever since she knew him, and it had been consistent, even when he had to switch teas because there was not enough for the second round.

Once he leaned back forward again and grabbed the teapot, pouring the still boiling hot tea into his cup, she finally decided to speak, knowing that this conversation could become a little difficult now. Welp, she hoped she learned how to handle him in the last few years.

"Surtr, my love, my dear husband, I may have a solution to my problem." she began, eyeing him as his facial features twisted into one of interest. He lifted his head, now directly looking at her, the pupil of his non-blind eye focusing on her own.

"Oh? Speak then, my dearest wife." he asked as he tilted his head, his blind eye blinking rapidly. She loved when he did that, even if it was involuntarily. It was...almost cute. And she also loved to tease him about it.

"I want to borrow yours." she said, watching as his expression fell. Those were words he did not want to hear, and she knew it. However, she still continued.

"Nyra, don't." he said, almost immediately, his voice hard and cold. She could see him tensing in rage, ready to argue if he had to. It was always like this when someone mentioned "quill" as his mind always automatically assumed someone meant a very specific one. One that was maybe used once or twice a year, one that was special. One that Metal Beak protected with his life and soul.

"I don't mean the sacred one!" she huffed, trying to clear the air before he could become enraged. A reaction that might have seemed extreme to others who don't know the history, but she did, and as such, she did not blame him. "I have no interest in that! I don't want to be skinned alive by you and hung out there for the bats to eat me during the last hours of my life when I lose it! I'm talking about the one you use in your studies here!"

Those words immediately calmed him, and while he still didn't look particularly happy, the anger in his seeing eye faded. He straightened his back, prepared to listen to her. Nyra had to repress the huff of victory that wanted to escape her. "Go on." he demanded, taking the teacup and lifting it to his beak, taking a good sip while he waited for her to continue. She didn't waste any time.

"Okay, so." she shifted in her seat a little, taking a sip of her own tea. "My plan is borrow your quill that is here, in the studies of our private quarters, for today only. As soon as I'm done with my duties, you'll get it back and I'll continue to search for one of mine that actually works." She leaned back, watching as his eyes narrowed in thought. "It's only a temporary solution, but it's he only one I can think of that does not delay me in my duties. Plus, you don't need it today, as far as I am concerned."

"You are correct about the latter. I am planning to finish this week's paperwork today in the royal studies." the Greater Sooty Owl grunted, taking yet another sip of his still steaming cup. "However, I am...not pleased with knowing that it is you who is in possession of one of my precious, desperately needed quills."

"Surtr, it is only for a day. How likely is it for me to lose a quill in a day?" Nyra huffed, though she knew that she kind of played herself with that question. She only realized after he gave her a certain look, though.

"Very likely, my love. Very, very likely." he pointed out, ready to remind her of a particular incident. "Who lost three quills in the course of 20 hours two weeks ago and broke a fourth in the evening? I do recall it being you who..."

"Okay, okay! Fair point." the white barn owl huffed, taking a sip of her tea with a grumpy expression. She hated being called out like that. Metal Beak smirked. Ugh! That man...

"I just need it for one day. If it helps, I'll wear one of my necklaces and attach it to it to make sure that I won't lose it." Nyra continued, and it irked her that she was almost begging for it, but she didn't have any other choice. She really, really needed a quill today, she couldn't find one, and she had to leave in 30 minutes. Additionally, she still had to make herself presentable. Her feathers were a mess from sleeping and she had to redo some eyeliner. She was a mess, even though her husband would beg to differ.

She was as beautiful as ever.

Metal Beak sat in silence for a few seconds, clearly thinking about it. He wasn't a good sharer, mostly because almost every single thing he owned had sentimental value - the special quill is one of the most important ones - but he did let his spouses take a thing or two from him if they promised to return it as soon as possible. If they would lose something, all hagsmire would break lose. Metal Beak got angry quickly but it was hard to reach a point of absolute rage. Losing his things was one way to do it.

"Come on, Surtr. Please." There, she finally said it. It was surprising, even to herself. Metal Beak's eye widened and he lifted his head to stare at her intently once again, a spark of worry in his orb now.

Wow...his wife was truly desperate, wasn't she? Well, in that case, he couldn't say no. He didn't want her to be stressed out. Their days were stressful enough, especially due to the absence of their beloved. With a final sigh, he nodded, adjusting his position in his seat before he spoke.

"Very well. You can have it for today." he grunted, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the relieved smile on her beautiful Barn Owl face. Oh, how gorgeous she was. How had he gotten so lucky twice? He didn't know, and he didn't dare to ask in case this was just a tumble of fate. "But I expect it back by tonight!"

"You WILL get it back then!" Nyra laughed as she drowned the last bit of tea, jumped up, walked around the table to grab his face into one of her talons and pulled him close, pressing a long, hard kiss onto his broken beak. A jolt of pain shot through Metal Beak's scarred side as she accidentally brushed against exposed nerve strings, but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer and kissed her back, enjoying those few seconds of affection before she pulled back.

"I have to get ready too." she said, nuzzling against him. "I trust that I will see you tonight? At dinner?"

"Yes." the Lord High Tyto confirmed. "I shall send you a message as soon as I am done so we can meet. I am curious what you will prepare for us tonight."

"Oh, it'll be a pleasant surprise." the Queen chuckled as she walked towards another room, ready to make herself presentable for the hours to come. "I know that tonight, you will eat! It's too good to miss out! Even for you!"

"Those are powerful words coming from a powerful being." the Tenebricosa huffed, but there was a smile in his voice. There always was. "I hope that they align with the truth. It would be a shame if I would believe a lie."

Nyra laughed, and her melodic voice echoed through the private quarters of the High Tyto and his mate. Metal Beak's smile widened. "They do, my love. They do." she purred, glancing through the doorway before she winked at him.

The Lord High Tyto chuckled roughly before he took the last sip of his tea as well, swallowing the now cooled liquid before he hoisted himself up with a grunt. He grabbed his mask, carefully putting it on and securing it before reaching for his battle claws, putting them on as well, flexing his digits afterwards before setting his talons back down. "We will see." he hummed, walking over to her so she would not have to break off her morning routine. He had already finished his, long before the tea had been prepared. He pressed another kiss to her beak, picking a stray feather out of her neck. "However, now, I have to leave. I shall see you tonight."

"Very well. I will see you then. I trust the quill is on the table?" she asked, unwilling to pull away, though she knew she had to.

"Yes." he agreed, taking a step back as son as he was free of her grasp. "When you return, just put it back there. I trust you, Nyra, don't disappoint me."

"I won't." The response was immediate, hard, stern. She meant it. She wouldn't disappoint him. This quill would be back by tonight.

He gave her a nod, his beak stretching to the edges of his face. Then, finally, he turned around and left, disappearing out of the entrance and walking past the two guards on duty, who bowed their heads upon the sight of their powerful leader. Metal Beak nodded at them, then, he continued his way down the hallway, making his way to the royal studies.

Meanwhile, Nyra continued with her morning routine, cleaning herself before grabbing the eyeliner, applying it in front of the elegant mirror. Then, she redid her markings, cleaned and sharpened her claws and slickened back the unruly feathers on her head, picking out the few that were lose. It didn't take long for her to be done, and once she was, she took one last glance into the mirror. She let out a pleasant hum at the sight of her beautiful form, a smirk of pride coming to her face before she turned and made her way towards the private studies of Metal Beak's private quarters.

She opened the door and stepped inside, walking to the other side of the room and pushing the curtains open so the light of the early morning sun could brighten the usually dark room. Once she did that, she walked over to the desk and grabbed the quill that was neatly kept in a small holder that had been handmade by their beloved.

She put it into her beak, holding it carefully before she left the room as well. She grabbed her clipboard which she had left on the drawer yesterday and attached it to it, putting it underneath her wing and securing it there before, too, approaching the entrance, opening the door before closing it behind her, locking it. Upon the sight of their queen, the guards bowed to greet her as well, who caused her to copy her husband's movement. She began to walk away, aiming for the yard where the soldiers were most likely already waiting for her.

 And so, the day of the Lord High Tyto and his beloved began. Hours of work were to be done, and they were carrying their own responsibility each. However, they knew that tonight, they would be reunited, and then, they would be able to spend time together.

And maybe, their beloved would take part too, even though right now, he was only able to do so through letters.

[kaizoku-musume]

See Through

Entry #4 in @xxsycamore’s Visions of Temptation kinktober event. Titles are hard so ignore my poor ones.

Fandom: Last Legacy

Pairing: Sage x OC (Aven)

Word count: 3.8k

Prompts: Jealousy-Possessiveness | Voyeurism

Bright light filled the foyer of the castle as the Astrolabe brought Aven back to their home in Astraea. It was a miraculous discovery, realizing that the Astrolabe had the ability to travel between worlds once properly awakened, but Aven hadn’t used it to return to Earth-not permanently, at least. No, they just went every so often to visit their family and friends, buy some things only Earth had, take Sage on dates they couldn’t have here.

Speaking of Sage, after almost a week apart, Aven was dearly missing their boyfriend. Communication was difficult to maintain across dimensions, and magical Facetime wasn’t a replacement for seeing him in person. Aven walked through the castle in search of him, starting with their rooms. No dice. They would check a few more likely places before heading into town; if Sage wasn’t at home he was likely trawling the markets or getting sloshed at the Saucy Gull. Hell, maybe he was visiting his own sister.

But as Aven approached what had been dubbed the entertainment lounge and heard voices rise behind the door, once they recognized, they relaxed in the knowledge they wouldn’t have to go on a manhunt. They felt a bit bad, interrupting when Sage had company over, because he was definitely going to focus on Aven once he saw they were back, but he’d be even more upset if they didn’t immediately let him know they were back home. So Aven slipped inside and was met with a party of griefers, drinking and joking in celebration. They must be back from their latest mission, though Aven thought they would have been done a bit earlier, unless they were dragging the party on. Sage liked to keep busy when Aven was away on the few times they didn’t bring him along, and this time it coincided with his old gang getting a request for a big job, something about a corrupt government official in a nearby town that needed to be . . . taught a lesson. With the threat of the Lord of Shadows and all that business gone and helping the griefers recover from whatever poison they’d been tormented with, the mercenaries had reformed into a more Robin Hood-esque group, one Sage was more inclined to help every now and then depending on the score

Aven scanned the room, looking for Sage. They couldn’t see him among the partygoers, which meant he was probably in the middle of that small huddle off in the corner. Sage was good at drawing in a crowd and often wound up being the center of attention (in both good and bad ways). Deciding to let Sage finish whatever conversation he was having and swing back around when the crowd dispersed a bit, Aven wasted time by heading to the makeshift bar-Felix was going to kill Sage-and getting a drink. They settled on something that resembled a margarita on Earth, still feeling a bit nostalgic despite having just been there. Leaning casually on the bar, Aven took one more visual sweep of the room, and this time they spotted a brief flash of Sage exactly where they thought he was, head thrown back as he laughed at something someone said.

Thus distracted, Aven didn’t notice someone approaching them until they were tapped on the shoulder. It was a griefer they didn’t recognize; someone new, maybe, or just someone who hadn’t gone on the same missions as Sage before. He smiled at Aven as he greeted, “Hey, I didn’t notice you earlier. You must have just stopped by, because there’s no way I would have missed someone as gorgeous as you.”

Aven blinked in surprise. None of the griefers had ever flirted with them before. They had all seemed to know they were dating Sage, even the ones that Aven met after their initial brief introduction to the group. “Uhh, thanks?” they said, unsure how to proceed. Did they turn him down immediately? What if he just had a really flirty personality and Aven made him look bad by assuming he meant more than a lighthearted compliment?

“The name’s Rolf,” he stuck his hand out. Aven took it cautiously, but all he did was offer them a brief handshake, grinning winsomely, letting go of their hand after an appropriate amount of time. “I love your outfit. You don’t see that sort of style here. Actually, I can’t think of anywhere I’ve seen clothes like yours. But you certainly do wear it well.”

Aven reflexively glanced down. Having just come from Earth, they were wearing the kind of fashion that came from there: a bandeau bra underneath a sheer, floral-print white button-up blouse and cutoff shorts with a lot of fringe on the bottom trim. It wasn’t anything more revealing than outfits found on Astraea, but Aven could understand how most locals would be unfamiliar with it. “Yeah, I, uh, I wanted to look good for my boyfriend,” Aven figured this was the best way to subtly indicate they were taken without implying that Rolf was hitting on them, even though it was getting pretty obvious by now.

“Well, it doesn’t look like he’s around to appreciate it,” Rolf glanced at the empty space around Aven, as if pointing out that they were alone. “Bit of a shame to leave a pretty little thing like you drinking alone at the bar. I’d be more than happy to let you know how much you deserve to be appreciated in great detail, if you’re interested,” he winked.

“I . . . just told you I had a boyfriend?” Aven said.

“It’s just an offer,” Rolf shrugged, leaning forward, “You’re free to take it or not. I just wonder if your boyfriend is really interested, because I can’t imagine stepping away from my partner if they got all dolled up for me.”

Aven opened their mouth to reject him when all of a sudden arms wrapped around Aven’s waist as a muscular body plastered itself to their back. Aven instinctively tensed up at the unexpected contact, but they immediately recognized who it was and relaxed in relief.

Sage rested his chin on Aven’s shoulder and kissed their cheek. “Hey, baby, I didn’t see you come in. I didn't know you’d be coming back this early, otherwise I would have delayed the party so you could have joined us sooner,” he grinned at Rolf with a mouth full of too-sharp teeth, “I see you made a new friend?” His eyes flashed deep red for a moment, the edge of a growl in his voice.

Rolf paled, “Sage, hey!” he greeted, his voice cracking in fear, “I had no idea this was your partner! I was just saying ‘hi’, didn’t want to be rude. Oh, hey, I think I see my buddies waving me over, I’m gonna go now!” Rolf scurried off, cowed in the face of the Red Wraith.

Sage grumbled as Rolf beat a hasty retreat, arms tightening around Aven. “You didn’t have to be so intimidating, you know,” Aven chastised.

“Sure I did, if he wasn’t getting the hint,” Sage countered.

“I wonder why that was,” Aven mused, “Was he new? Because I thought everyone already knew we were together. But then that last recruit, what’s her name, seemed to already be aware of it when I met her right after she joined.”

Sage checkled, nuzzling Aven’s cheek, “You remember what species most of the griefers are? They don’t need to be told we’re dating. The reason they can tell is because they can smell me on you. But right now, you’ve been away, getting lots of other scents on you, so mine is gone.”

“Oh,” Aven flushed. They always forgot that the Ilepthta had a keen sense of smell. The knowledge that the griefers could tell they were an item just because they smelled like each other had Aven squirming. What exactly did that entail? Was the scent a kind of all over thing or localized? Was it just their basic, natural scents that transferred or . . .

Sage, sensing where Aven’s thoughts had gone, rumbled out a purr. “Maybe we should rectify that,” without warning, he tossed Aven over his shoulder, leaving their drink abandoned at the bar, and began walking toward the exit. “Can’t have the crew thinking you’re free for the taking.” When he reached the entryway, he called out to the room at large, “You guys are welcome to stay here and enjoy the party, but I’m dipping out early to give my partner a proper welcome home!” 

The doors closed behind them to the sounds of raucous laughter and cheering. “Sage!” Aven covered their face with their hands.

“What? Don’t pretend that you didn’t enjoy that,” he snickered. Aven had nothing to say in defense because Sage had hit the nail on the head. Months ago, he’d realized that Aven was an exhibitionist before they did, and from then on had taken great delight in doing what he could to satisfy that desire. So seeing the crowd watching and jeering over the fact that Aven was being carried off to get fucked by Sage just made them wet.

When they reached Aven’s room, Sage tossed them onto the bed, clambering on top of them immediately after. “Did you come home wearing that outfit just for me?” he plucked at their clothes, batting at the frayed ends of their shorts and running his hands over Aven’s torso, kneading the fabric of their shirt.

“Of course I did,” Aven said, reaching up to shove Sage’s coat off his shoulders. Sage laughed and obliged them, shimmying out of his boots and pants as well before addressing Aven’s own clothes. He took the time to unbutton their top, mouthing at every bit of skin that was revealed as he did so. “I know how much you like it when I pick, um . . . stuff like this.” Gods, when were they ever going to stop being embarrassed over sex? No wonder Sage loved teasing them.

“I certainly do,” Sage smirked as he nudged Aven’s shirt open, baring their chest and stomach without fully taking it off. He tugged the bandeau over their breasts, leaving it bunched up on their upper chest. The shorts and underwear he pulled all the way off, leaving Aven nearly naked. Sage whistled at the view: there was something uniquely debauched about leaving them with their clothes partially on. He loved pulling their clothes aside just enough to expose their tits and cunt for easy access-like they couldn’t stand taking the time to fully undress in order for him to fuck them.

Sage shifted toward the end of the bed and laid down over the covers, hooking Aven’s knees over his shoulders, spreading them open enough for him to bring his mouth to their pussy. “Look at you, already so wet for me,” he cooed. Aven whimpered, legs reflexively jerking closed but unable to clamp together with Sage’s head in the way.

He mouthed at their inner thigh, sucking a few hickeys onto their skin. Aven squirmed and mewled, but Sage held them down with an arm across their waist. He slowly moved up toward where they both wanted his mouth the most, licking a long stipe up from their taint to their clit. “Sage!” Aven cried out, legs splaying open of their own volition at the sensation.

Sage took that as his cue to drag his tongue across Aven’s clit, altering between short, flat presses and quick, sharp flicks. Aven whined, hands flying down to clutch desperately at Sage’s shoulders, hips struggling to jerk up into his mouth against the weight of his arm. Periodically, Sage closed his lips around Aven’s clit and sucked, and every time he did so they shrieked, nails scratching at his shoulders.

Sage ducked down even further, lapping at Aven’s folds and hole before pressing his tongue inside them, fucking into them like he would with his cock. He used his free hand to play with their clit, circling and rubbing it with firm, delicious pressure. “Sage, too fast, too fast, I’m gonna come,” Aven warned, body twisting and arching as much as they were allowed to. Sage kept up his momentum, nibbling on Aven’s labia and humming into their cunt. The multitude of sensations had Aven rocketing toward their orgasm, thighs quaking around Sage’s head and a shrill shriek torn from their throat as they came. Sage gentled his movements as he worked them through it.

When Aven stopped twitching through the aftershocks, Sage rose up onto his knees. He swiped a hand across Aven’s cunt, collecting the slick there and wiping it along the inside of their thighs, then tossed both their legs over one shoulder, an arm pressing their thighs tight against his body, keeping them immobile. “Ready for round two?” Sage prompted, nudging his cock in between their pressed-together thighs.

“You’re not gonna fuck me?” Aven blushed at their outburst.

“We’ll get to that,” Sage assured, “When have I ever left you unsatisfied? But for now, I’m planning on fixing that scent issue.” He started moving, his cock dragging across Aven’s folds on every thrust. Aven held their thighs closer together to provide a more tight channel for Sage. They watched, entranced, as Sage’s cock slid through their thighs, shiny and wet with Aven’s juices, the fat mushroom head occasionally bumping against their sensitive clit. 

Aven bit their lip around the sounds leaking out of them, thighs flexing at Sage’s grinding. It didn’t help that Sage was gripping the meat of Aven’s thigh as he fucked in between them, fingers gripping tight enough to bruise. Every once in a while, he would let go just to spank them, feeling the way Aven’s thighs tensed around his cock. “Saaage,” Aven whined, feeling themselves start to wind up again, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there again,” Sage promised in between pants, “As soon as I mark you up, I’ll give you exactly what you need.” he sped up, seeking his own release so he could satisfy his need to claim Aven and then bring them to their second orgasm. He wrapped a hand around the not insignificant length of his cock that wasn’t buried in their thighs, stroking in time with his thrusts. Watching Aven’s expressions as he continued to grind against their pussy helped hasten his orgasm; with a growl, Sage came, his spend splattering against Aven’s waist and stomach.

Sage let Aven’s legs fall to the mattress as he reached out and smeared his come further across their skin. Aven shuddered at the sensation. When Sage was satisfied painting their skin, he brought his hand up to Aven’s mouth. They obediently leaned up and licked it clean, wrapping their lips around his fingers and sucking. “Good kitten,” Sage praised. He spread Aven’s legs once more, placing one on either side of him as he settled in between them. Without preamble, Sage slipped two fingers with ease into Aven’s cunt, soaked and eager enough to accept them greedily. Wasting no time, he began scissoring them apart inside Aven, stretching them open for his cock once it would harden back up.

Aven gasped and rocked down on Sage’s fingers. “Oh, fuck,” the sighed, head tipped back. Sage snickered and gave them another finger, burying them knuckle-deep in Aven’s pussy. While he finger fucked them, Sage used his thumb to lazily flick their clit, rubbing around the engorged nub. “No, no, too much,” Aven half-heartedly attempted to push his wrist away before holding onto it, giving up all too easily. Sage kept teasing their clit, not deterred-not unless they used their safeword. Sage curled the fingers inside them against their g-spot, rubbing insistently as he grinded his rapidly hardening cock against their pelvis. 

Aven writhed as Sage bullied their sweet spot, high-pitched whines forced out of them. “Come on, you can be louder than that. I want you screaming so hard everyone downstairs will know who’s making you feel so good,” Sage goaded as he pumped his fingers faster, the squelching sounds of his fingers fucking into their dripping pussy drowned out by Aven’s screeches. His thumb pressed down on their clit while his fingers pressed up against their g-spot, and with a full-body shudder and a final scream, Aven tipped over the edge.

Sage gently pulled his fingers from their cunt, replacing it with his fully erect cock, the tip kissing their entrance. He pressed in before Aven had fully calmed down, pushing inch by inch into them. Aven whimpered through the intrusion, pussy clenching sporadically around the hot, hard shaft forcing itself deeper and deeper. “Sage, Sage, wait, I can’t-” Aven’s hands scrabbled against the sheets, seeking something to hold onto as their body was forced to accommodate Sage’s large length. They wrapped their legs around Sage’s waist, the only thing Aven could successfully cling to.

Sage ignored Aven’s pleas and pressed further and further forward until he was finally buried to the hilt. Still no safeword, so still no stopping. Still, he kept a close eye on them to make sure he wasn’t pushing them too hard. Aven was quivering, hands grasping and releasing the sheets like a kneading cat, mouth open as they gasped for air, little whimpering sounds spilling out of them, “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you,” Sage goaded as he ran soothing hands along their sides, avoiding their cum-stained torso, his hands brushing the fabric of their shirt underneath them.

“Oh, fuck you and your monster cock,” Aven sniffled, cunt fluttering around his cock as they struggled to adjust, “Can’t you put aside your massive ego for once instead of always trying to make me admit how big you are?”

Sage shrugged, grinding forward once, twice, just to knock a gasp out of them, immensely pleased when their eyes fluttered just from that. “I think it’s the least you could do, isn’t it?” Sage started up a steady, slow rhythm, pulling out halfway before pushing back in. “Don’t I give you what you want every time? Don’t I leave you fully satisfied, make you come multiple times?”

“Wait, wait, ‘m not ready,” Aven protested, for show more than anything. It would be more convincing if their hips weren’t rocking into his (and also if he didn’t know they liked being overwhelmed, like being made to take it).

“You sure about that?” Sage brought one hand down to spread Aven’s labia, giving him a good look of his cock sinking into their cunt, “Because your pussy’s saying something else. It’s squeezing me like it doesn’t want to let me go.” He ran his thumb across their entrance, stretched wide around his cock, pressing just the tip of it in, just to the nail, pretending like he was debating shoving the whole finger in alongside his dick.

‘Sage, please,” Aven threw their arms over their face to hide their burning red cheeks.

“Please fuck you harder? Will do,” Sage sped up and started fucking them with the full length of his cock, drawing back until only the tip was still sheathed inside them and ramming back in. “This is what you wanted, right?” He drew his hands up to their breasts, cupping what he could of them, kneading each palmful, fingers pinching their nipples. “Needed my dick in you so bad you had to show up in a cute outfit practically begging me to fuck you. Didn’t even care who else saw you as long as I filled you up, yeah?”

“Th-they all know I’m-I’m yours, so I didn’t-oh, oh!-didn’t think about it” Aven choked out.

“I know,” Sage meanly tweaked their nipples, delighting in their sharp cry. “You want everyone to know how cute my partner is, right?” He dug his nails in their areola as he tugged on their nipples, letting go just to watch their tits bounce. “I bet you wouldn’t have complained if I took you like this right in front of everybody, would you?”

“I-I-” Aven stuttered, their legs and cunt clenching around Sage in arousal as he drove relentlessly into them. They couldn’t deny his words, because Aven would be okay with being taken in front of a crowd, people watching as Sage made them come over and over again. He’d never go for it, but he made good use of toeing the line very well. “Sage, don’t be mean to me,” Aven begged.

Sage laughed, “Sorry, sorry. Right now, you just want me to fuck you hard enough that no one makes the mistake of thinking you’re available, right?” With a parting slap to each of their tits, Sage gripped their hips for leverage and picked up his pace viciously, slamming them down on his cock over and over. Aven screamed and grabbed onto his wrists like a lifeline, holding on for dear life as Sage’s powerful thrusts rocked through them. Tears sprung to their eyes as the pleasure mounted.

“No one else is gonna fuck you as good as this, huh?” Sage rasped, bucking forward almost harshly into the delicious, welcoming heat surrounding his cock. Aven was tight despite the stretch, their pussy constricting around him. One of these days, he’d have to spend all day with Aven speared on his cock, treat them like the cocksleave they so desperately wanted to be, keep them full to bursting until they were genuinely begging for mercy. His tail tugged impatiently on Aven’s ankle when he didn’t hear an answer. “Well, Aven?” Beyond words, Aven simply shook their head, babbling something indecipherable. “That’s what I thought,” he rewarded them by aiming for their g-spot, hitting it with every strike.

“Oh god!” Aven squealed, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m so close!” Sage obliged, hips slapping against theirs as his own orgasm was drawing close. A few more thrusts and Aven was gone, body seizing up as their orgasm sent powerful ripples through their body. Cunt tightening up almost impossibly snug around Sage’s cock, he followed after them, spilling deep inside.

Sage only pulled out of Aven when they had recovered enough to verbally give him the go ahead, voice hoarse and weak. He resisted the urge to collapse onto the bed next to Aven and focused on collecting his breath and fishing their shorts from where he tossed them on the floor. He gave Aven a bit longer to put themselves together-when they moved to sit up, Sage pulled the bandeau back over their breasts and started buttoning their shirt back up, heedless of the mess on their tummy. “Uhhh,” Aven said, eying Sage questioningly.

He shrugged innocently, “I figured we’d go back and join the party. I’m sure those guys aren’t done drinking themselves to death, and I’d hate to make you miss out after being gone for so long.” When he was done with the shirt, he playfully held out Aven’s shorts-sand underwear-a knowing smirk on his face.

Aven gulped. The shirt just barely covered the come stains on their stomach; if someone looked to closely, they’d probably be able to see it. And a bit of Sage’s come was already dibbling out of them after the removal of his cock-the rest would be sure to follow very shortly. And Sage was expecting them to walk around like this, drenched in his come, right in front of his old crew? “Yes please,” Aven said breathily, eagerly reaching out to take the shorts.

[rinqueen6]

MY SHAKESPEAREAN LOVE AFFAIR | Shakespeare x Y/N

a/n: this is one of the four fanfictions written by yours truly and @oflethe during my community day stream (on June 5th, 2023, using the game frantic fanfic)

summary: shakespeare meet cute???

warnings: no editing in sight, sexual innuendos, and a really messed up plot

(each time there is a “-” there is a switched writer; it starts with lethe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to my stupid alarm, in my stupid bed. I got out and stared at my lifeless blue eyes in the mirror. Hi, I'm Y/N. Just another girl in this G-dforsaken World. I put my long brown hair in a messy bun and changed into my Paramore tshirt and skinny black jeans. As I put on my non-broken in Dr Martens, my mum walked in.

"Y/N," she started, looking exhausted "you have a visitor."

B-but, who would want to see a mess like me?? As I walked down our villa's stairs I saw him -------------------- , standing there, a wolfish grin on his face.

"S-shakespeare?" I whispered, too taken aback by his molded back hair.

"Yes," he grunted sexually. "It's me. Your new family."

"That's right, Y/N." My mom yelled. "You're useless and not a part of my family anymore. Shakespeare is adopting you."

I was so scared I peed a little.

"Adopted? Me?"

"Let's go baby. You're like a midsummer's night dream or whatever."

Shakespeare took me to the carriage and threw all my bags in the back. I sat in the front seat, trying to ignore the fact that the horse in front of us was shitting like crazy.

"I hope I never see you again." My mom said and slammed the door behind herself.

"Time to go, Y/N. Your new life awaits." Shakespeare put a quill in the carriage's ignition, and we were off. To my new life. My new home. -------------------- To a new century.

He rode the carriage into a new old age, and I found myself standing in front of THE Globe Theatre.

"So," he startled me, "I suspect you'll be right at home playing with the boys."

Yeah, I prefered boys' company over other girls, since I'm not like them and all, but what did he mean??

I would find out soon that he meant to make me into his image. A girl that pretends to be a boy playing a girl on stage. I soon became the biggest actor his stage had ever seen, and soon, I became his biggest muse. His Cleopatra. His youmg Juliet to his old-ass Romeo. Anne Hathaway was no more, in the end it was me and him- my William, my Shakespeare.