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loomis-maxima · 8 months ago

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word count;; 14k+ pairing;; sebastian sallow x f!reader warnings;; depictions of injury, violence, and death. use of crucio. slight jealousy, angst, and a lil fluff and mutual pining to go along<3 slight lore changes regarding fiendfyre, and use of y/n. slightly dark wizard!sebastian but also saviour!sebastian 💖

*minor hogwarts legacy spoilers but nothing outright*

a/n;; this took longer than expected- i haven't written in so long so i hope you guys enjoy 💖 (i didn't expect it to be this long, and i feel like the end is a bit shit but i appreciate all of you guys sm for entertaining my fics)

Nestled in the Scottish Highlands, away from prying and mundane eyes, stood a behemoth of magic, history, legend and mystery. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle’s many stained glass windows glistened, the Black Lake sparkled under the stars, and the Forbidden Forest looked just as foreboding, yet at the same time, peaceful, under the last of that night’s moonlight.

The serenity of the landscape was suddenly disturbed, but not by destruction, instead by one of the most regal and proud creatures. A large, majestic Hippogriff broke through the light clouds that hung over the castle, and on the creature's back was a girl, nothing more than a Hogwarts student. “Let’s go Highwing, before anyone notices we’ve been gone all night,” said the girl on the creature's back as she took in the sights from the height they flew at one more time before returning to her usual student life. As Highwing soared in the sky, her huge wings beat against the wind causing an undeniable rhythm in the air. The large, majestic creature flew, a loud and proud call was let out from her chest as she took one last long soar before beginning her descent back to the ground.

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Back in the quiet of the castle, where students slept soundly, the only thoughts in their minds were the dreams that played out behind their closed eyes, there was one student who hadn’t slipped into the comfort and safety of his dream realm, a fifth-year Slytherin by the name of Sebastian Sallow. Instead of being nestled up cosy in his bed just like his fellow students, Sebastian sat perched on a long sofa in the Slytherin common room, eyes drifting between the doorways that were across from him, his books and the mix of half-used, blank pieces of parchment that sat on the table in front of him. “Where is she…?” he muttered to himself, slinking back into the cushions behind him. Usually, Sebastian wouldn’t keep himself so concerned with what someone else was doing, against the rules or not. But Sebastian found himself in this predicament more often than he would care to admit.

The new student, y/n, had a penchant for sneaking off unnoticed, with only the occasional comment from Imelda or Poppy drawing any attention. However, Sebastian on the other hand was more than aware of her disappearances. In fact, her absence never failed to register with him. Initially, he didn't dwell on it too much, respecting her need for privacy, just as he would want. Yet, an underlying sense of worry persisted within Sebastian, despite his rational understanding.

His eyes drifted around the large open room, taking in every inch of the usually bustling common room. Even the large windows at the end of the room that stood proud, looking out under the murky, Black Lake provided no signs of life, not a single thing except for the usual green hue coming from the windows, casting a haunting, yet beautiful atmosphere. It seemed for all the world, that everyone but Sebastian was asleep, everyone but Sebastian was without a worry. His eyes settled on the fire, the flames were a deep, vibrant orange, hinted with hues of yellow and red as they twisted and danced together. Sebastian found himself, once again, getting lost in their hypnotic sway. There had always been something so inciting to him about fire — the beauty of it, yet the destruction it was capable of always just twinkling beyond the captivating twists.

The sudden sound of a light step began to echo throughout the stagnant silence Sebastian found himself in, pulling his focus away from the dancing flames, choosing instead to watch the entrance to the common from the staircase, a drop of hope bubbled in his stomach as he sat up a little straighter and picked up his book, as if to seem like he was unable to sleep; instead of sitting, waiting for y/n to return. The footsteps were soft, almost imperceptible, like the gentle patter of raindrops on a windowpane. They echoed through the dimly lit room, creating a rhythm that seemed to reverberate through the very air. It was as if the very walls of the castle were whispering secrets, hinting at the arrival of someone who could provide answers to the questions that had been swirling in his mind.

"Sebastian?" a voice asked, barely a whisper, barely rising above the gentle lull of the crackling hearth. The soft patter of approaching footsteps punctured the quiet, drawing nearer to where Sebastian sat, engulfed in his thoughts.

"What are you doing up so late? I didn’t expect anyone to be up." y/n inquired, her voice laced with a hint of worry as she settled onto the sofa opposite him. The faint glow of the embers cast a warm light upon her face, revealing the fatigue etched into her features.

Sebastian lightly shook his head, placing his book atop the disarray of parchment. "Sleep eluded me, so I thought to come down here, see if I can make a dent in Sharp’s assignment" he replied, his tone carefully measured to hide the deceit. He hoped the flickering shadows would hide the concern that he felt was all too apparent in his eyes. "Let's not dwell on just my sleeping habits," he deftly redirected, his gaze intently studying her, "You're the one cutting it close, aren't you? Classes in a few hours, and here you are. I'd wager you not making it to our morning classes tomorrow." A strained chuckle escaped him as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, bridging the distance between them.

Her response was uncharacteristically delayed, and when it came, it didn’t come with its usual excitement. She drew in a breath, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames that seemed to ensnare her reflection in their fiery ballet. Her hands moved in a subtle, self-comforting gesture, leaving a hint of an inner turmoil that she hadn’t confided in him.

A flicker of movement drew his attention to a slender cut marring her face—a wound that was unveiled as she turned towards the fire, how he didn’t notice it the second she had joined him escaped him, it bothered him that he hadn’t seen it straight away, he almost felt guilty. His instinct urged him to reach out, to bridge the gap and address the injury that seemed to scream for attention. Yet he restrained himself, settling back into the shadows with a quiet resolve. "When she's ready, she'll confide in me," he told himself, the thought more a plea to convince himself rather than a conviction.

"I… I was out with Highwing," y/n finally murmured, her voice a soft echo in the room. "There was… something I had to tend to, a matter related to the trials. We encountered some poachers, a couple of goblins—nothing more." But her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, and Sebastian's intuition screamed in silent alarm deep within him.

The crackling fire no longer commanded her attention as she turned to gauge Sebastian's reaction, searching his face for signs of doubt. She hoped he'd let the matter slide, and as if sensing her silent plea, he simply nodded, acceptance flickering in his eyes. "You know, if there's anyone capable of giving poachers a run for their money, it's you, y/n," Sebastian remarked, the softness in his smile reaching his eyes.

Her response was a half-hearted echo of his grin, her eyes locking with his for a fleeting moment. "Thanks, Sebastian. It means a lot, you know? Having someone believe in me when everything here is still so relatively new," she murmured, the vulnerability in her voice brushing against the silent space between them.

Sebastian's chuckle broke through the heaviness, his smile widening, a shared moment of lightness taking the edge off his earlier worry. "Not believe in you? Come on, you had me outmatched from day one. Anyone who can do that is destined for greatness." His words teetered on the edge of sentimentality, and he quickly steered the conversation back with a playful challenge. "But, since I've been demoted to second-best, courtesy of you, you owe me an adventure. It's only fair, right?"

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but behind it lay his sincere desire to join her, not just for the thrill, but to ensure her safety—something he couldn't admit just yet.

The suggestion drew a soft, airy laugh from her as she rose to her feet, sidestepping the deeper implication of his words. "Next time, maybe, Sallow," she deflected with a lightness she didn't feel, sensing the undercurrents of concern that both of them were dancing around. "But for now, I'm off to bed. We've got Hecat first thing, and you better not be up all night either. Promise me you'll get some rest too?" "Promise," Sebastian nodded, the care in her voice buoying him a touch, though it couldn't fully brush off the thought of her concealed injuries. "Go on, then. Get some sleep, y/n. I'll meet you here in the morning before class."

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The next day had come all too soon, the cool morning breeze wisped around the castle grounds as the rising sun’s glow cascaded over every inch it could touch. A fragment of the golden glow broke through the dark water that sloshed against the large windows within the common room — causing the room to have more of a glow than usual.

Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, the freshly made bedding underneath trapped between her fingers as she pulled and twisted at the thick fabric subconsciously, deep in her thoughts; she felt almost glued to the bed, her eyes stuck focused on one point on the floor in front of her as her thoughts ran rampant within her.

The sleep that she had promised Sebastian hadn’t come as she had hoped, instead, she had spent the last of the night tossing and turning, arguing with her inner thoughts, overthinking every detail and thought that crossed her mind.

She would love nothing more than to have Sebastian come with her, to have Sebastian by her side every time she left the castle, but she knew that no matter what; great danger would always be waiting right around the corner for her — not a single situation so far had proven anything different. She wondered if she would be able to live with herself if anything happened to Sebastian, but what didn’t cross her mind — Would Sebastian be able to live with himself if something happened to her and he wasn’t there to help her? Or save her?

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the heavy dormitory door being pushed open and spoke a voice, causing her to jump from her sitting position and almost out of her skin. “Aren’t you coming y/n?” said the voice as a head peaked through the door, the head of Imelda Reyes. “You know Sallow is waiting for you down there, he seems to be under the impression you aren’t coming to class.” she continued, entering the room. “You know how Sebastian is… Not a man with a lot of patience, now is he.” y/n replied swiftly, hoping to avoid discussion as to why Sebastian thought as much, the last thing she needed was someone else asking questions.

Imelda waited for y/n as she grabbed her robes and wand she had left on her beside the locker before following Imelda out of the dormitory and down the winding hallway that led to the common room. The two girls walked in silence, the only sound being their steps across the metal flooring mixed with the light morning chatter of sleepy students coming from the common room some distance away. “What are you doing tonight?” Imelda asked suddenly, catching y/n off guard. “Tonight? Why?” y/n responded without turning to look at Imelda, her brain suddenly coming up with all types of scenarios, her anxiety slightly spiked as she waited for Imelda to spit out her reasoning.

“Well, you’re the only one who feels like a competition out on the pitch y/n, you’re getting better. You can almost keep up with me, so even though Quidditch is cancelled this year, maybe you wouldn’t mind helping me practice? I need someone who pushes me… Anyone else and it would be too easy… You’ll get some experience out of it too, and you might be ready for Quidditch tryouts next year.” Imelda quickly blurted out, completely unaware of how laced with ego her words were, but y/n knew it wasn’t intentional. Imelda wasn’t afraid to let people know she knew what her strengths were, and she never downplayed them for anyone, and that was something y/n admired in her.

“I really wish I could Imelda” y/n said softly as they cascaded down the steps and towards where Sebastian and Ominis sat talking between themselves. “I haven’t gotten around to Sharp’s assignment yet, and I haven’t gotten a chance for Hecat’s assignment yet either, I wish I could help you out, Imelda but I just don’t have the time tonight.” y/n finished, throwing Sebastian a pleading look once she realised he was watching them approach. “Well, what about this weekend? Any assignments we get today won't take the whole weekend to do” Imelda continued, stopping in her tracks once they reached the couches where the boys sat. Imelda perched herself on the arm of the couch, her eyes bore into y/n’s, almost as if she was trying to get into y/n’s mind to make her agree, but before she could even give Imelda an answer, Sebastian had realised the conversation y/n was trying to wiggle out of, knowing she couldn’t tell Imelda the truth.

“I mean, she would love to help you Imelda, but we’ve got plans this weekend, so unfortunately you might have to pick one of the other students, even if they don’t hold a candle to y/n’s skill” Sebastian said as he walked over to stand beside y/n, a smile on his face which y/n returned with a soft smile, grateful for his swift thinking. Imelda opened her mouth quickly to argue with Sebastian, probably to say how practising for Quidditch next year is more important, but Ominis was the next person to protest against Imelda’s arguments; but not for the same reason as Sebastian—Ominis simply didn’t want to listen to their conversation.

“You know Imelda, maybe more people would want to practice with you if you didn’t speak down to them and act as if you were a gift from Merlin himself. You’ve no chance of changing their minds, you’ll learn, as well as I, that there’s no changing their minds once they’ve decided something, together.” The way Ominis spoke left a feeling of bubbling guilt between Sebastian and y/n as they exchanged looks. Was that really what Ominis thought? Y/n began to worry that her and Sebastian’s adventures so far were driving a wedge between Ominis and Sebastian, the last thing she would want would be to cause a rift between the two lifelong best friends, but a nudge to her arm pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to meet Sebastian’s gaze. He just shook his head lightly, indicating for her to not start overthinking Ominis’ words.

Imelda rolled her eyes at what Ominis had to say, but she didn’t have a retort for him; instead, she turned her attention back to y/n and Sebastian. “Well. Enjoy your adventures. Don’t come crying to me when you need someone to fly with y/n” The snark from Imelda was natural, something anyone who knew her was used to; even y/n already understood despite her short time at the school. “Oh, Imelda you know that’s not-” y/n began to speak, but Imelda was quick to shut her down, her willingness to talk back to y/n but not Ominis didn’t go unnoticed. “Save it, I don’t have time. Some of us have actual responsibilities. I’ll see you in class.” Imelda snapped as she turned to leave, her nose turning even more upwards than it had been in its natural position, leaving the three friends in silence.

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“She’s going to kill me the next time I turn down practising with her.” y/n said as she walked with the two boys towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, she knew she’d definitely get an earful from Hecat over not having the assignments, so being late wasn’t an option. “Surely the girl who beat me at Crossed Wands can put up a fight against Imelda unless she had something to hide about our duel..? Maybe, Felix Felicis?” Sebastian said, turning his head and giving her a look, a sly smile on his face. Anyone who didn’t know him would think this was a real accusation, that he was genuinely accusing her of cheating in their match—but his two closest friends knew it was just lighthearted banter.

“Oh please Sebastian, you know I didn’t know how to brew Felix Felicis back then, tell him Ominis, I won fair and square.” y/n said, looking between the two boys. “She’s not wrong Sebastian, she had only just gotten to Hogwarts, she probably didn't even know that potion existed. She won out of skill, like she said, fair and square” Ominis said tauntingly, getting a scoff from Sebastian. “Well, she’s had actual help and time with professors to learn! Oh, leave it..” Sebastian finally said defeatedly. He would have been annoyed at what Ominis was saying if it hadn’t been about y/n, hearing that he just wasn’t good enough to win did sting him a bit.

They left the warmth of the castle, the cool autumn breeze ran over the friends as they made their way through the grounds of Hogwarts. As they crossed the Viaduct courtyard, y/n noticed the decorations that seemingly appeared overnight. Cobwebs seemed to be hanging on arches, doorways and corners, pumpkins lay strewn about in a range of sizes. Even the smaller decorations and candles had seemingly been placed in such a fashion that it almost transformed the feeling of Hogwarts, even in the morning time.

“Well, those little house elves were hard at work last night,” Sebastian said looking around at their passing surroundings as they crossed over the Viaduct Bridge. “They’re always hard at work… They never get a break.” Ominis muttered, his voice low. The two other friends exchanged glances, knowing where Ominis’ sudden attitude change came from. For a Gaunt, Ominis’ views were unheard of.

The Gaunt’s were cruel.

They were descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, their heritage and lineage were of utmost importance to them. They had no time for Half-Bloods, and most definitely no respect for Muggle-Born witches and wizards. When it came to house elves, they were no different. They viewed the elves as nothing more than what their purpose served, and at that, there was no respect. Violence was common, physically and verbally, and that didn’t stop at house elves… Their obsession with blood purity, obsession with the Dark Arts, their sadistic ‘hobbies’ Ominis hated everything about their beliefs and what they did, choosing to have his own set of beliefs instead. Any time Ominis spoke about his family, it was never positive. Y/n knew there was more to his story, but she didn’t want to press him about his family and the Dark Arts; knowing the subject would be sensitive.

Y/n hated hearing her friends sound anyway upset, she racked her brain for something to say, to maybe comfort him somehow. “I agree Ominis” she said, placing her hand lightly on his arm as they continued into the Astronomy Wing of Hogwarts. “..but Hogwarts is the best place for them. If they were left to their old masters, who knows what could happen to them.” her voice matched the soft, sensitive nature of the conversation. However, as soon as her hand reached his arm, Sebastian had become all too aware of it. A strange feeling started brewing inside of him as he watched and listened to them. Was he jealous? Was her hand on his arm more than a friendly touch? Sebastian’s mind filled with questions, questions fueled by his sudden jealousy. “I know, I know, but there’s not much comfort in knowing they are still being worked to death,” Ominis spoke glumly, y/n looked sympathetic towards his feelings, and Sebastian wanted to know why it bothered him so. “That’s all they know Ominis, at least they’re safe here..” y/n said, her hand dropping from his arm, not knowing what else to say to ease Ominis’ pointed feelings on the topic. Sebastian felt calmed when her hands dropped to her sides, but now he had to face the fact he was jealous, and over such a small thing. They walked in silence up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, unsure of where to take the conversation after it hit such a sensitive tone.

“Hecat’s going to have my head you know.” y/n said trying to divert the conversation, and their moods. Sebastian and Ominis both let out a small laugh at her sudden statement. “You didn’t finish your assignment?” Ominis asked, almost as if he was disappointed in her. Y/n shook her head as they crossed the marble flooring and up the right staircases and corridors to reach Hecat’s classroom. “Well, someone was out all night causing trouble,” Sebastian said giving y/n a knowing look, a slight smirk played on his face. “Maybe she will let me hand it in late? If I tell her some of what I was doing? Surely she’d understand right” y/n asked, unsure of how Hecat would handle the situation.

Ominis just shrugged before he spoke, “I wouldn’t know. I like to get my assignments in on time.” y/n just smiled before rolling her eyes, “Gee, thanks Ominis. That is a great help” she said jokingly. Sebastian took the situation a little more seriously, since he knew more than Ominis about what she had been doing.*

“What are you going to tell her?” Sebastian asked, looking down at her. “What if you just tell her you were out gathering supplies or something, and you got into some trouble? She can’t disprove it, and it’s not really a lie, you’re just… withholding the full story. Plus, you still have that cut on your face still too so surely she’ll believe you..” Sebastian said in a hushed voice, genuinely trying to help her situation. A sigh left her as they approached the classroom, “I guess we’ll find out won’t we..” She said, opening the classroom door and entering, Sebastian and Ominis behind her.

As usual, they were the last few students to walk in besides a couple of stragglers that waltzed in after them. The class was lively, chatter coming from every direction as students spoke among themselves. Ominis walked and took his usual seat in the middle of the class, not bothering to speak to anyone, instead just preparing his belongings for class, the thought of his family heavy on his mind again. Sebastian perched himself on top of his desk at the back of the class, preparing for the incoming babble and nonsense as he watched Garreth Weasley approach him. y/n on the other hand made a direct beeline for the steps up to Professor Hecat’s study, repeating the excuse in her brain. She knocked on the door lightly and it was just a few seconds before the door opened and a voice spoke gently. “Come in, come in” said the older voice, y/n followed her instructions and walked into the little room above the classroom. “Professor Hecat, would you have a few moments?” y/n asked, her voice unwavering but she was still nervous nonetheless.

Hecat turned from the array of books she was sorting, directing her attention fully to y/n. “Of course, what is it Ms. y/l/n?” Hecat asked, raising an eyebrow slightly at the girl's words, stepping closer to her student. “I, I don’t have the assignment Professor” y/n said while looking at the ground, she looked up at her professor before continuing; “I intended to finish it last night but-” Hecat cut swiftly across her sentence; “but you thought you could come with excuses instead of the assigned work?” Hecat asked, her hands crossing over themselves in front of her. Hecat examined her student’s reaction to her words, suddenly noticing the mark on y/n’s cheek. “Merlin, what happened to you child? You’re hurt” Hecat said almost in a distressed voice, y/n simply just continued on her ramble in hopes Hecat would let her finish. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Professor. While I was out, we came across a poacher camp. I couldn’t leave without doing something, and I understand my studies are important..” y/n spoke fast, but Hecat listened to every word, just as y/n hoped; she prayed Hecat would understand the excuse she had, considering Hecat’s past of fighting poachers.

“But with all due respect Professor, I won’t let poachers or any other horrible person get away with their actions just so I can do an assignment” The words came from her before she even could think about them, it was kind of what she wanted to say; but it came across a lot more disrespectful than she expected, or so she thought.

Hecat’s face remained stoic as she took in her student's last few words, giving the impression that she was not happy. Suddenly a small smile cracked across her face as she looked at y/n. Hecat had not expected such a valid excuse in her mind, never mind expect such with passion, conviction and sincerity. Hecat merely nodded, her smile never once fading now. “I’ll give you until our next lesson, I see no reason to punish you for something I would have done as a student, someone’s got to do something about that lot,” Hecat said, her voice was light now, almost as if what y/n had said to her reminded her of herself.

“Thank you Professor” y/n said as she turned around to leave the study, unsure of what else to say; this wasn’t the outcome she had expected. She reached just outside the door, on the balcony looking down at the class, her eyes instantly looked at Sebastian. Her heart began to race slightly as she realised he was looking directly back at her, ignoring whatever nonsense Garreth was spewing at him. Hecat’s voice calling her pulled her attention back from Sebastian, turning around once more to face the Professor. “Oh and Miss y/l/n? Next time you decide to take on poachers, be prepared. Never go wrong with carrying some essence of dittany with you as well as your usual potions” She took Hecat’s words seriously, nodding once again at the older woman. “Of course Professor, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

Y/n made her way back down the short flight of steps and across the classroom as she ran through the thoughts of how lucky she had gotten with Hecat, how lucky she had gotten that Hecat saw some of the young student in herself. She took a seat beside Sebastian, letting out a sigh of relief as she sank back into her chair. “I see you’ve still got your head.” Sebastian laughed, turning to look at her. “She was… Okay with it. I told her about the poachers and that seemed to work in my favour.” y/n said, the worry that was present in her voice before class was now gone, finally able to think of more important things than an assignment. The class passed by relatively slowly, but no student was surprised. Even in such an interesting class, theoretical studies were always dragging time along, seemingly never-ending. So once Hecat dismissed the class, students almost threw themselves out of the door to get to their next class in hopes that whatever was next was more lively.

Ominis left the class without a word to anyone, leaving Sebastian and y/n to throw each other worried glances. They knew better than to follow Ominis and hunt him for answers as to what was wrong, instead, they gathered their belongings and made their way from Hecat’s classroom, making their way back down to the Potions classroom.

“So, about our adventure,” Sebastian said, the two walking side by side across the hallways, they moved slightly every now and then when another student, or group, pushed their way past. “I was thinking we could go tonight, I don’t have much to get done and I’m sick of being in this castle.” Sebastian’s words were filled with hope, and something else that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I don’t know Sebastian I-”

“Oh come on y/n, I’m not some fragile little thing that’ll get hurt the second we leave, I can defend myself you know.” Sebastian’s voice didn’t have its usual joking tone to it, causing y/n to look up at him while they walked.

“I never said you were Sebastian, I know you can but-” He cut her off again. “So it’s decided then. Tonight, we’re going on an adventure.” Sebastian’s voice was light again as he spoke, basically telling her rather than asking now. “Fine Sebastian. But we’re doing it my way. There’s something I have to do, so promise me you won’t do something reckless?” her words were serious, and a tone of defeat was lingering in her voice. “I promise y/n, we’ll do it your way.”

She didn’t know if he was being honest or just telling her what she wanted to hear, but she had accepted it, knowing Sebastian would not let it go, not until he got to come along with her. ‘This is the last thing I need..’' she thought to herself, as she mulled over the fact that any task would only be made more difficult with Sebastian there, his tendency to charge in guns blazing all of the time left little space for plans to be executed with stealth and precision was something y/n knew could be an issue and could possibly jeopardize the task at hand.

They walked the rest of the way to Potions without talking anymore about the topic, instead just talking together like normal friends, no talk of dark magic, no talk of danger or poachers, no dark wizards' name even graced their lips… It was something she wished was more common, but between her life and her friends that she held close; having a ‘normal’ friendship was off the cards. Between her two best friends, one a Gaunt who defied his family’s expectations, and the other with a longing for dark magic and power, she knew that the current flow of normal conversation wouldn’t last long; the trio were anything but regular students of Hogwarts.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n all chose the same workstation, each friend on each side of the large table between them, a collection of cauldrons, ingredients and vials laid strewn about on every table; chatter was lively in the class as the students worked on their potions. Professor Sharp walked around the room, his injured leg causing his steps to falter occasionally as he made his rounds, not affected in the slighest. He inspected everyone’s potions, some gaining compliments; others causing him to say nothing more than a grunt before moving to the next. Ominis avoided joining much of the conversation as y/n and Sebastian discussed their plan for that night, y/n on the other hand didn’t delve too into detail about what she had to do, not wanting to speak about it in such a busy environment.

The potions class seemed to fly by relatively fast, some students received praise for their attempts at the potions; other students would have been lucky to be ignored by Sharp. One of those unlucky few students being Garreth Weasley. The trio looked up as they heard Sharp clear his voice as he approached Garreth, who was standing by his cauldron. The potion Garreth had brewed seemed to stench up the class the longer it brewed, the mixture seemed to expand in the cauldron before it swelled up; a large bubble formed on the top; shaping into a hand that seemed to reach for saving from the dreadful potion — the desperate potion’s stretched hand deflated with an amusing “poof”, the sound it made seemed like the last painful exhale from something that had been holding onto the last few seconds of it’s life before letting out that last, pathetic sound.

Garreth’s failure earned him a deep frown from Sharp. “Mr. Weasley, I cannot keep repeating myself. Please follow the instructions that are provided to you and refrain from your own… concoctions. You may yet still have time to pass this class and prove you’re not a failure. Please keep your own ‘potions’ for when you have mastered the simplest, yes?” Sharp said as he looked down at the ginger boy who was fighting off a frown of his own from falling upon his freckled cheeks.

Sebastian, Ominis and y/n couldn’t help but chuckle amongst themselves once they heard Professor Sharp’s words and watched Garreth’s attempt at the potion dissolve the shape it had taken and recoiled back into the large cauldron.

Professor Sharp had taken notice of the three best friends joking amongst themselves as he made his way towards their shared table, not failing to compliment Amit’s potion to a high extent as he passed by the table Amit shared with Garreth and Poppy— Amit always had a way of succeeding, even if it wasn’t a strength of his. He held himself to a high standard within his classes, so it was no surprise that this class was no exception.

The three friends subdued their light laughs and mutterings towards each other the closer that Sharp got, turning their attention back to the potions that had sat in front of them. Sharp didn’t speak a word as he made his way around the table, glancing at each of their brewings intently. They stood and almost held their breath — hoping that their potions, at minimum, were passable. A thoughtful ‘hmm’ left Professor Sharp as he stood up a little straighter after studying their potions. “For three who seemed most interested in watching others, you haven’t disappointed me completely” Sharp said in his usual indifferent tone, his eyes flittering between Ominis, Sebastian and y/n. “Next time, please pay attention to your own cauldrons and not other students,” Sharp said bluntly, causing y/n and Sebastian to look at each other. Professor Sharp turned his attention to Ominis fully now; “Well done Mr. Gaunt, I assume you’ve been practising? This potion is well brewed — Ten points to Slytherin.” Sharp said before he turned and made his way back to his desk. Sebastian and y/n turned to Ominis, a smile on each of their faces. Ominis hadn’t been the best at potions — but he was determined to overcome the struggle that came along with the class due to the pressure he applied to himself. A satisfied smile came across Ominis’ face upon hearing Sharp's words. A sense of contentment washed over Ominis as one of two friends spoke; “Nice work Ominis, I guess we should probably practice too” y/n said with a chuckle, genuinely happy that her friend managed to overcome a hurdle that he too often struggled with.

Luck had been on their side as the three had received compliments on their potions, clearly showing they had some skill when it came to the careful craft, but Professor Sharp didn’t hesitate to let them know they still were not up to his high-held standards, that they still had some growing to do within the area.

Once the class had tidied away their potions and cauldrons, returning ingredients and books to their rightful place, the rest of the day passed with surprising ease. Most of the classes seemed to pass swiftly, and the friends were not about to complain about that — all complaints had been reserved for their History of Magic class. The class dragged on as Professor Binns’ dull, monotone voice filled the room. The odd student took notes, and paid attention to the dry words that left the ghost professor's mouth, the rest of the students feigned interest. Some students watched Binns float as he lectured on, staring through the transparent man, and some passed notes (taking full advantage of the professor’s obliviousness). Sebastian sat with his head resting on his hand; his eyes fighting to stay open. Ominis sat in silence, his gaze turned towards the window as he let Binns’ lecture float by his ears — his mind elsewhere. Y/n’s energy to the class was not much different, her body language showed she was listening intently to Binns’ words, but rather her mind was somewhere else — somewhere far away.

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As nightfall came, the usual hustle and bustle of the castle quietened down, most students now working on assignments, while others wandered about the castle or loitered around talking to friends. The only chaotic noises to break the relaxed environment and subdued chatter came when some of the ghosts of Hogwarts flew past, Peeves was tormenting a couple of first years, and the usual screams and shouts of Eddie Cleaver rang through the halls as he wisped past.

Outside of the castle, the Halloween decorations came even more to life, the candles cast their golden, warm hue upon parts of dark passageways, corners of the courtyards, casting an a beautiful but ominous glow over the decorated areas — the aura hanging on each of the old stones of the castle radiated halloween charm.

Where festive scenes were lacking, there was one student, beyond the walls of the castle, beyond the care of Halloween decorations. Flying above the Forbidden Forest was a large creature with a small figure on its back. The autumn breeze blew past y/n as she perched on Highwing, she took in every sight below her, taking advantage of her high vantage point. She knew this task wasn’t going to be easy, she knew this was where danger truly lay. Highwing and the girl made their way lower to the ground before Highwing began to gracefully saunter through the forest, the creature knew of every twist and turn within the treacherous forest. Y/n’s senses were on high alert as all sorts of noises happened around her, but she and the Hippogriff continued on, not willing to be shaken or have her focus thrown off.

Back in the safety of Hogwarts, Sebastian stood outside of the Slytherin common room, frustration bubbling in him. Y/n had been an hour late meeting him and it bothered him deeply. He marched briskly up the steps leading to the main part of the castle, praying in his mind that she would be around the corner — though his silent pleas had not been answered. Instead when he rounded the corner, to his surprise, he saw Ominis sitting on one of the seats near the entrance to the library, his wand in hand and a rather thick book in the other.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” his voice was confused as his attention to the book he held dropped. “I thought you were going on your adventure?” Ominis’ voice was heavy, his tone dropping at the last word. “I was but, Y/n. She was meant to meet me outside the common room an hour ago. I’ve been looking all over for her.” Sebastian sighed, approaching his friend. “What?” Ominis asked bluntly, suddenly a tone shifted in his voice to slight concern. “Sebastian, she left already. I passed her before she as she was on her way, she said you were meeting near the forest.” Ominis finished his sentence, the genuine concern now present in his voice. “She said what?! She intentionally left without me? And lied? Why-” Sebastian was now full of emotions, a mix of worry, concern and a tinge of anger that she would lie to him, that she would leave him behind; Sebastian’s thoughts and emotions were then flickering all over the place.

“You don’t think, do you, Sebastian? She doesn’t want to drag you into trouble, or danger.” Ominis said knowingly, and he was right, she didn’t want to but Sebastian in any dangerous, or stupid, situation — but this logic didn’t sit with Sebastian in the slightest. “So it’s okay for her to run towards danger alone but not with me?” Sebastian’s voice showed all of his emotions at once, causing Ominis’ eyebrows to rise and a sigh to leave him before he spoke.

“She just doesn’t want you getting hurt Sebastian.”

“And I don’t want her getting hurt, but she doesn’t care about what I want, so why should I care about her wanting to go it alone?” Sebastian had a good point that even Ominis couldn’t argue against, and Ominis didn’t argue his friends point; instead what he spoke next was the quite opposite.

“Then go after her Sebastian, she was heading to the forest. She seemed flustered when we met, she was quite anxious…” Those were all the words Sebastian needed for his mind to decide his next course of action. “I’ll talk to you later Ominis,” Sebastian said as he turned on his heel and began to jog briskly from his friend before he began to run towards the large doors that were at the end of the large hall, every fibre of his being told him something was wrong.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n was quiet and careful with every step she took. Her wand was held tightly in her hand, ready for anything. She took note of the surroundings, seeing what she could use to her advantage. Just on the edge of where the poachers set up camp, was a clearing, giving a view of the night’s starry sky over the hill’s ledge. She thought about being able to cast the poachers off the steep edge that looked over the forest, she took note of where the forestry ended, the last thing she would want is to end up burning down an entire magical forest. To her advantage, the trees stopped just before the encampment, allowing for the use of fire spells; a favourite of y/n’s.

She watched from behind the bushes as poachers spoke to each other about plans, not knowing of the student who lurked not far from their camp. She stepped quietly across an opening in the trees, Highwing not far from her. Highwing’s safety was a major concern to her, even in such a tense moment. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to the creature.

“What will we do with the egg?” said a poacher, y/n’s head snapped around the tree to get a better view. “Cage it, don’t know if it’ll hatch. Keep it safe. That’s a lot of money.” said another poacher with a laugh, y/n’s stomach twisted at the sound of capturing and selling any creature or egg. “How d’ya reckon they managed to capture that beast ‘nyway? Nowt’ easy ‘bout a Horntail, ‘n’ bet a few of ‘em ended up crispy” said a poacher who sat by the fire that burned in the middle of the camp. There were a few tents set up around the area, all around the fire. Cages were all over the ground, some empty, and a couple contained little Nifflers that looked terrified, Y/N’s heart cracked as she saw the full scene, but her mind was now in overdrive.

A Horntail? Captured? How? This added a whole new layer to everything going on, added something else that she felt that she needed to take care of. The thoughts of her initial reasoning for being out that night swarmed her mind, now with the added stress of releasing the Nifflers and a dragon egg. Her mind spun with solutions to the situation that seemingly got more dire the longer it dragged on.

She couldn’t stand there anymore, looking at the creatures and listening to the horrible conversations between the poachers.

As poachers continued to talk about the dragon amongst themselves, y/n made her way closer to the camp, taking a mental note of where every poacher was located. She glanced back at Highwing who stood proudly in the shadows, the Hippogriff took another step forward. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, afraid Highwing would catch the attention of the poachers. ‘I should have never brought her’ y/n thought to herself, swearing at her own stupidity and recklessness, thinking now she may have put Highwing in danger too — that Highwing would draw attention. Thankfully, as if Highwing would read her mind, the creature didn’t make a sound, and y/n pressed on, relieved.

She noticed a lone poacher close to her, his back turned to the student. She closed the gap between them while raising her wand, a whisper then left her lips, only loud enough for the incantation to work; “petrificus totalus”

The lone poacher seized up as if frozen before his body dropped to the ground. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief once he was down, ready to approach the rest of the camp. She took note of the three poachers that were left, thinking to herself; “only three, okay..” She had dealt with more than three poachers in the past, so this didn’t cause her any concern. Instead of taking a tactful approach, she took advantage of how little poachers were at the camp.

She leapt from the shadows pointing her wand directly at the poacher that sat by the fire. “Depulso!” she shouted, a blast of light came from her wand, directly hitting the poacher and sending him flying into the high burning fire that once provided a source of warmth for the poachers — and now it was being used for their demise. His screams filled the air, even as his body was engulfed in the flames, his screams were still audible but now mixing with the sound of the fire crackling in an attempt to break down the foreign mass of skin and bone that had been forced into its core.

The remaining two poachers were suddenly caught off guard as turned to see her standing there, her Hogwarts robes billowing in the breeze that drifted by — but the robes were a dead giveaway as to who she was, a situation she had not predicted happening. “You!!” shouted a poacher, his wand quickly got drawn as he got prepared to fight. “Confringo!” came from the poacher, a burst of fire headed straight for y/n, she quickly rolled out of the way, barely missing the intense attack that had been directed at her.

Her heart began to beat faster, and she realised she made a mistake wearing her robes; now giving everyone a sign that she was the student causing trouble for them, the student that Rookwood was pursuing rather intently. She ran across the camp, firing at both poachers but neither seemed to b giving up or dropping anytime soon. Neither she nor the poachers gave up their relentless casts, and the situation only seemed more dire when a couple of more figures started approaching. Y/n noticed this and she panicked, causing her to almost get hit with a powerful cast of Reducto that someone just fired at her.

“Highwing!” she yelled, not seising her casts or wand movements once, “Get out of here! GO!” she screamed at the Hippogriff to leave her behind, knowing if more poachers came that they wouldn’t hesitate to try take the creature — or worse. Highwing hesitated, watching the student who cared for her so much fight off the oncoming attack from multiple directions. “NOW HIGHWING!” y/n screamed, her voice breaking as she deflected a jinx hurling towards her. Highwing didn’t take another second before sprinting out of the forest, understanding the urgency of the situation. The Hippogriff’s heart was now beating fast as she ran back through the forest and towards the school — hoping to catch someone’s attention, anyones attention that could help.

Y/n kept fighting and dodging curses, not stopping for a second. She knew if she didn’t put her everything into this, she wouldn’t be coming out of this fight, not alive anyway.

“Reducto!” she got a hit on a poacher that was moving closer to her, the man suddenly burst into nothing but ash that lingered in the air before settling on the ground, every atom of the poacher was simply reduced to nothing but specks of grey that settled on the ground where he once stood.

Despite her success so far, it had seemed to her as if every time one poacher went down, another appeared in the last’s stead. Frustration began building in her as she did everything she could to try to keep her mind focused on the fight, but as soon as she found it, the focus was snatched away with blunt force. Y/n’s full attention was pulled from the fight by a swirling stream of purple smoke that twisted its way to the ground, as the smoke dissapated, y/n got a clear view of who had just joined the fight, and the stakes were raised tenfold when she realised who had just joined the fight. “You’re the little bitch Rookwood wants!” shouted a scratchy female voice, the insult cutting through the air like a knife.

Ashwinders…

Y/n cast a quick protego shield as the poachers kept their attack going, she knew she had to get out of this and fast. Her mind ran through spells, jinxes, curses anything that would give her a leg up on the competition now but it seemed almost impossible, her knowledge finally halted her, leaving her with little choice. She kept letting off fire spells one after another, the bombardment somewhat helped the odds of the fight be in her favour for a moment — just a moment. A familiar swirling sound was light upon y/n’s ears. She forced herself to pay no heed to the sound, until a second purple tornado-like smoke appeared before spreading. Once the violet smoke disappeared, in it’s wake stood another Ashwinder, this one seemingly larger than the first.

“Petrificus totalus!” shouted the new Ashwinder, this time a male voice came from the Duelist. He landed a perfect hit on her without much effort, causing her entire body to freeze up. She had lost complete control of her body as her wand fell from her hand and landed by her feet. She was completely defenceless. She screamed obscenities in her mind, unable to open her mouth even the slightest bit. She was done for. Her body didn’t even have a chance to fall and hit the ground before another spell was cast at her now statue-like body. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

She was at the complete mercy of the Ashwinders and the last remaining poachers, the poachers were clearly exhausted from the fight, retreating away from the duelist who now walked closer to the camp. The Ashwinder that cast the Levitation charm pulled y/n closer to them as they closed the distance, leaving her suspended in the air, frozen, unable to defend herself. “Do you realise how much of a nuisance you’ve been? How many problems you’ve caused for us?!” screamed the male of the duellists, his voice was full of venom and hatred, and at that moment y/n truly feared for her life.

“Well no more! No more stupid little brats thinking they can stop us!” the Ashwinder controlling her lowered Y/n so he could stare directly into her eyes as he spoke with his cruel voice. Y/n had no option but to listen, to hang onto every word spat at her.

The looming female Ashwinder began walking towards her accomplice and the frozen student. Once again the scratchy, female voice spoke while stepping up to the suspended girl; “…and when your little friends hear about how we tortured you, how you begged for your life before we ripped you to shreds, they’ll learn not to interfere. They’ll learn their place. Like Rookwood says, ‘Children should be seen and not heard’” the female Ashwinder continued in her vicious, venom-laced voice. The Ashwinders were wholly and completely unaware of the tiny bit of information she had just given y/n, and she knew exactly what she was going to do with it if she got out alive… Even in that moment, she forgot about the threat to her life; only thinking about what the female Ashwinder had just said, information that could help Sebastian and his sister. 'Children should be seen and not heard'

A poacher suddenly appeared, pulling an empty cage with him. The cage wasn’t much bigger than what a couple of Niffleres were in, but that wasn’t something that either the Ashwinders or poachers cared for. “Someone get a word to Rookwood! Tell him we got the little bitch.” said the female Ashwinder as she glanced at the cage, ideas running rampant through her head. “..until then, we’ll have some fun, wont we girl?.” Y/n was suddenly dropped to the ground, but her still frozen body was then shoved into the cage, the girl left completely defenceless, completely overrun with terror.

The remaining poachers and the Ashwinders watched as y/n lay motionless in the cage, finding no amusement in the idea of caging her anymore, not when she couldn’t express her fear, not when she was quiet. Y/n saw the female duellist raise her wand once more, suddenly casting at y/n with something she couldn’t defend herself against; even if she had her wand.

“Crucio!”

There was a split second before the curse hit her that allowed her mind to register the curse and the bright green sparks that emanated from the tip of the Ashwinder’s wand.

The pain was unbearable, y/n’s body was no longer frozen; the Unforgivable Curse that was cast on her overpowered the weak-by-comparison charm. A searing pain washed over her entire body, feeling as if every inch of her skin was set on fire; it felt like a million cuts all over her body that were being cleaned with pure alcohol. The pain caused her to writhe in the cage, her body tensing and dropping, and tensing again. The only sound that came from her was sounds of pain, screams that pierced the night air rang out through the forest, the pain didn’t feel like it was ever going to stop and when it did, the relief didn’t last long before the curse was cast on her again, this time even more painful. Her screams reached a pitch she didn’t think possible, the screams were so bloodcurdling that they set her own hair on edge, anyone nearby surely would think there was a banshee wandering about.

She wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but the more she tried to make words come out, the more intense the pain soaring over her body got and the more she in turn screamed.

Some distance away, Sebastian walked towards the Forbidden Forest, his ears caught a scream, a scream that sent a shiver down his spine, and his blood ran cold when it broke through the air. “Y/N!” he said to himself, panic rushed over him as his feet began moving faster, Sebastian was now sprinting towards the sounds. He was so focused on following the directions of the screams and watching the ground for obstacles he had to divert around, that he didn’t notice the white creature heading toward him until it was too late.

His body fully collided with Highwings strong body, knocking him backwards. Highwing took notice of Sebastian and reared on her back legs, trying her best to signal him distress. He didn’t even think about standing back up, panic flooded his voice; “Highwing?!” he knew if Highwing was alone, those screams definitely came from y/n. Highwing was stressed, cries came from the creature, almost begging him to understand her as he stood back up to his feet, ensuring his wand was with him. “I know, I know Highwing! It’s okay, I’ll find her okay? I promise I’ll find her” he didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or the Hippogriff that was in front of him. He stroked Highwing’s chest signalling for her to calm down, the intensity of the situation and his determination to save her made Highwing and Sebastian forget they hadn’t ever met properly, the Hippogriff uncharacteristically trusted him straight away.

“I need to go, I have to find her” Sebastian said hurriedly as he stepped away from her, continuing on his path to find y/n. Highwing let out a neigh before following him, she then overtook him as if to lead him to the poacher’s camp. He knew Highwing shouldn’t be near the poachers, but he wasn’t about to try to tell a Hippogriff what to do, especially not at such a critical time. Instead, he followed her heavy footsteps through the forest, winding around corners and trails after the Hippogriff.

Screams rang close by to where the boy and the creature, stopping them dead in their tracks, y/n was close by — quite close. “Please Highwing, stay here. Stay safe. I’ve got this.” Sebastian said in a nervous but confident voice. Highwing’s head bowed, acknowledging his wishes which took him by surprise.

The distinctive sound of screams disappeared, but only for a moment. The harsh Ashwinder’s voice was audible from where they stood. “CRUCIO!!” this time it was screamed with pure hatred. Sebastian instantly snapped his head in the direction of the camp, now knowing where exactly to go — his hastened steps taking him to the location of the screams.

Y/n wanted to beg, to plead for them to stop, but nothing but harrowing screams could leave her mouth, tears streamed down her face and she finally felt defeated; finally met her match. In that moment she wished for it to be over, wished for the pain to end at any cost, but it never did. The excruciating pain only ever stopped for a single moment until another round of the torture curse was thrust upon her. Y/n felt her mind drift from her, she was unable to think of anything anymore, unable to focus on anything but the pain; not even thoughts of Sebastian could break their way through the brutalising pain that the Ashwinders cast on her.

From out of the blue, an explosion erupted from the camp, debris from a tent flew in every direction. The remaining poachers and the male Ashwinder were the first ones to act in retaliation, turning their full attention to the cause of the explosion. The female Ashwinder on the other hand, kept her focus on y/n, clearly enjoying inflicting pain on the student — revelling in her screams and cries rather than the idea of joining in on the combat just yet.

Sebastian walked into the camp as debris fell around them, the fire that had caught on the tent fabric now burned intensely around them, but it didn’t bother Sebastian in the slightest. He didn’t so much as flinch as he stepped through stray flames on the ground, the fiery atmosphere seemed as if it motivated him even more. He was enraged. He set his sights on one of the poachers who was preparing an attack, but Sebastian was quicker. “Diffindo!” Sebastian’s cast caught the raggedy-looking poacher, the spell’s power sliced through the man as if it were a knife and he was just a sheet of paper, the poacher fell to a lifeless pile on the ground; his fatal injuries directly across his stomach that split him into two caused blood to run and stain the ground around him.

The female Ashwinder that had been intently torturing y/n looked up from the writhing and contorting girl in the cage, the anger radiating from the duelist was imminent, but Sebastian’s anger was more. “Oh look. One of your little friends has come to see the show,” spoke the raspy-voiced woman. Y/n’s eyes drifted towards the camp’s entrance, catching sight of Sebastian firing off at the surrounding poachers, making quick work of them. The Ashwinder considered her next course of action for a split second, toying with her options of joining in the fight or torturing the girl.

Just as the poachers dropped, two more swirls of purple smoke slammed into the ground, and Sebastian’s eyes snapped around the camp. He was determined to not let them get the better of them. Once the female poacher realised there were more Ashwinders for reinforcement, she knew what she would do next, try and fluster the student who had just so brazenly walked into the camp, thinking he was a match for them. The ego of the student was something that the Ashwinders hated, that a student thought he would be a threat to them.

But that was the Ashwinder’s undoing.

Underestimating Sebastian Sallow and hurting the ones he cared for was one way to write your death, one way to bring your death upon you in whatever way he saw fit. He could be unforgiving, he could be just as cruel as them, if not more.

“Crucio!”

Another wave was sent over y/n, just as painful as the last. Her screams didn’t care for her wanting to hold them back, so she didn’t distract Sebastian, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even fight the pain, even when he was right in front of her. “Sebastian!” she screamed his name,she was surprised for just a moment that his name rang out through the air, yet she was unable to get anything else out as she continued to convulse in the cage, causing her to hit off of the small prison she had been put in. Sebastian’s attention was instantly drawn to where the scream came from. What he saw sent him into a rage, his mind no longer considering a rational approach. His focus was tied to the female Ashwinder, and y/n could almost swear she saw someone other than Sebastian through her tears. Someone to fear. Someone who didn’t care about the repercussions of the actions he would take. Sebastian raised his wand, his intentions so clearly stated in his mind that he didn’t even have to speak a word as he cast at the Ashwinder.

In a turn of events, karma came in the form of Sebastian, the Ashwinder that had been getting so much satisfaction from torturing y/n had folded to the ground, now letting out her screams of pain as she twisted and writhed around on the stone ground beneath her. Even in her own pain, even without him saying the incantation; y/n could tell that Sebastian cast crucio on the duelist. The power required to do such a thing, she knew right now Sebastian had one intent on his mind — but it didn’t bother her, for all of that moment when the crippling pain dissipated she had felt something she had not in some time — relief. Relief from no longer being tortured, and the relief that came with Sebastian’s arrival to the horrific situation she had gotten herself into.

He turned his attention to the now-gathering Ashwinders that cast all types at him from the edge of the cliff. Sebastian dodged and deflected the mixed hues of green and red that flew at him, a sudden power in him unlocking in the heat of the battle. Sebastian held his wand aloft, his eyes glinted with the power that was building within him. Y/n watched as Sebastian moved his wand so elegantly through the air, she was unable to make out what incantation he said, but within a moment she all but knew, and worry came over her in the form of a tsunami.

From the very tip of his wand came fire, but not bursts as he had been casting previously. Instead, it streamed from his wand, his eyes followed the growing stream as it formed shape above and around him.

From her confined space, y/n could feel the intensity that cracked through the air, as harsh as a leather whip that came from hell itself. As Sebastian’s concentration deepened, the once fiery twists that streamed from his wand began to writhe and twist with the movements of his wand, it’s chaos seemed to find order under his control, but how? The flames had a life of their own, as if with each breath Sebastian took, so did the flames; each breath bringing it more to life than the last.

“Sebastian, no!” y/n yelled, hoping that she could stop him from casting such a devastating spell, but it was too late.

The Fiendfyre’s colour was a deep, malignant crimson that seemed to bleed its ominous glow on everything around, casting everything in a hellish glow. The Ashwinders, who once underestimated him were momentarily halted by the spectacle, caused by a student no less. They watched in horror, and fascination, as the flames above Sebastian’s head began to form shape. The fire had begun to grow and take form as the shape of a head formed, followed by a long sinuous body and a flickering tongue. The Fiendfyre serpent, a terrifying sight to see, hung in the air as its body looped and coiled, as if ready to attack at any moment.

Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. Fiendfyre was known for its destructive properties, synonymous with ruin and its desire to consume everything in its path; including the caster, but as she watched, rather than their surroundings burning to the ground around them, the two students included, it seemed to be controlled by Sebastian with eerie precision. Despite the fear that built up within y/n, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight that came to life in front of her. Y/n, (and Ominis), knew that Sebastian felt a certain way about the dark arts and dark magic, she knew it was something he desired to learn about, to know how it worked, even how to weild it; but she didn’t know his interest would go to this extent. Oh no, this was far beyond her comprehension.

What would Ominis think if he witnessed something so unbelievable? Something so… Incredible. Something told her that Ominis wouldn’t find it the same awe–inspiring spectacle that she did, that he wouldn’t ever be open to the beauty in anything dangerous or related to the Dark Arts.

It was a clear demonstration of Sebastian’s hidden depths, the years of study and practice, and an undeniable connection to the Dark Arts he had that y/n had never fully appreciated, but was also a show of his determination, and dedication to the craft, but also of the lengths he would go to for those he cared about, the lengths he would go to for power… Sebastian had achieved something so unheard of, something that was considered even impossible; not just casting Fiendfyre, but bending it to his will, controlling the flaming serpent that paid homage to Salazar Slytherin; someone Sebastian revered for his affinity with the Dark Arts.

Her astonishment was complete as she watched Sebastian take control of the flaming serpent. In all the tales she had heard, Fiendfyre was a wild, uncontainable force of destruction, yet here it was, a testament to Sebastian's formidable power and dark affinity.

The spectacle before her was both stunning and terrifying.

As the Fiendfyre serpent hovered, a guardian beast conjured from flame and wrath, it was clear that the battle had shifted. With the serpent of fire at his command, Sebastian was not just a defender; he was a storm that couldn’t be controlled, reshaping the terror of the night into something he could be proud of. The serpent of fire seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its eyes glowing embers that locked onto the Ashwinders with a predator's gaze. The heat that emanated from it was oppressive, the air shimmering in waves that made the scene before her look like a mirage. Yet, this was no illusion; it was a vivid, terrifying reality.

Sebastian moved his wand with a fluidity that belied the danger of the spell he commanded. The serpent of Fiendfyre responded, its movements synchronised with his intentions. With a flick of his wrist, Sebastian directed the serpent, its body slithering through the air, weaving around the spells cast by the Ashwinders, creating a protective barrier of fire and fury around him. Not a single spell or jinx cast by the Ashwinders penetrated the serpent, the flames seemingly protected Sebastian, and and its focus was directly locked onto the Ashwinders.

As the Fiendfyre serpent surged forward, its fiery form twisted and contorted with sinister grace. With a menacing hiss, it lowered its head, the flames writhing and flickering like a serpent preparing to strike as the air around shimmered with its heat. Sebastian's control over the dark magic was palpable as he guided the serpent with precise movements of his wand.

With each command, the serpent responded, its burning eyes fixed on its targets with predatory intent; Sebastian’s eyes matched the serpents. What once seemed like just a reflection of the flames in his eyes was now something more; his eyes glowed with the same bright, fiery, scarlet flames as if his irises were consumed by the flames he produced.

Whisps of fire cracked from the serpent, as if threatening to drop its destructive touch on everything that surrounded them, to ultimately consume everything — but it did not give into it’s dangerous threats. It continued to follow the commands made by the male student, almost as if the Fiendfyre and Sebastian had a deeper connection — as if the troubled student and the chaos he controlled had an understanding of each other.

The fire serpent grew larger, as if standing tall and proud — a predator staring down its helpless prey. The foes that remained infront of Sebastian only had a moment to examine the power being shown right in front of them — they had lost their chance to flee once and for all. Y/n could only make out small moments from the now one-sided battle, her focus was intently tied to Sebastian and the Fiendfyre as her fear slowly melted away, as if the terrifying sight was the answer to all of the issues — no longer viewing the Fiendfyre as their demise.

In the blink of an eye, the serpents mouth opened; it’s jaws parted as it’s blazing fangs were on full display as it suddenly lunged forward with the command of Sebastian’s wand movements — with a simple flick of his wrist, the monstrosity darted through the air with the speed of light. How Sebastian controlled the fiery demon with such grace, such elegance, was something that those witnessing the events unfold could believe — especially not since he did it while anger raged inside of him, if not stronger than what he wielded. The scorching snake dashed across the camp that separated the Ashwinders from their imminent death. All y/n could make out was the blur of crimson and amber, along with its radiating and blazing heat that emminated from the fire beast as it darted past towards it’s prey, its mouth still agape, still baring its fierce fangs. The Fiendfyre was unrelenting once it reached its casters target, its widened mouth slamming shut around one of the Ashwinders with such force, that y/n could have sworn shockwaves were sent through the ground.

Sebastian continued to focus on the frenzy of fire that he commanded, each movement he made was graceful and intentful — like a dancer whoms body married the notes their body intertwined with — the attacks from him and the creature he controlled were just like master and puppet. Deliberate. Intentful. It didn’t take long for Sebastian and the Fiendfyre to make short work of the enemies who had underestimated him — their bodies no longer stood before him, the Fiendfyre had ultimately consumed their bodies — every atom of their beings had been ripped from existence. The serpent that had one stood strong, proud and dangerous retreated back from where it attacked the helpless duelists, and y/n couldn’t help but feel as if Sebastian’s control of the Fiendfyre might just fail as the battle ended. She expected the blazing form to disobey it’s caster, she expected it to lose it’s controlled form and spill its hot, lava-like fire until it consumed everything. To her shock, the Fiendfyre continued to obey Sebastian even though it wanted to break free, wanted to burn everything it possibly could.

The snake slithered back for one more proud stance in the air before its swelled size began to deflate — the fiery snake wove its way around Sebastian once more, as it twisted it soaked in the last few moments of fresh air it would get until he cast it again. It lost its solid shape, as it returned into the tip of Sebastian’s wand it melted back into it’s original form before disappearing completely. Once the conjured beast was completely gone, a spark came from the end of Sebastians wand. He barely acknowledged the spark that sigalled him that the cast was complete before he ran over to the cage that y/n had been stuffed into.

Sebastian noticed the lock on the cage hadn’t been locked — it reminded him of hearing the cruciatus curse, hearing her scream. Even though he had handed out karma, it didn’t make him feel any better. The unlocked cage just showed what the Ashwinders had intended; they didn’t lock it simply because they didn’t have to, because she would be able to leave even if she wanted to. He pushed the thoughts aside quickly before ripping the cage door open with such intensity y/n was surprised that it didn’t break away. Sebastian threw his wand aside as he turned his attention to getting her out of her confinments. His hands grabbed her legs which were closest to him and began to pull her from the cage as gently as he possibly could. Y/n couldn’t move a muscle besides the involuntary twitches her body made — a lingering affect of the repeated use of the Cruciatus curse on her, one that Sebastian hoped was only temporary.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” Sebastian said softly as his arm looped behind her knees, making it easier for him to fully pull her out of the cage. Sebastian sat down on the ground from the kneeling position he had been in as he pulled her body as close to him as possible between his outstretched legs. He put an arm around her shoulders to support her upper body as he held her close, his other arm wrapping around her too. “It’s okay, it’s over now… you’re safe, I’m here,” he said softly before resting his chin against the top of her head. He was just happy to have found her— while she was still breathing. Y/n body still ached from the curse being cast over and over, as if every drop of strength she once had was gone — now barely even able to sit herself up on her own, her upper body being supported by Sebastian, her head resting just at his shoulder as she sat between his legs, Sebastian had let the second arm that wrapped around her fall and moved her legs so they lay over one of his own spread legs so she was in a position that helped him hold her even closer — almost scared that if she wasn’t curled into him that he might lose her again.

Her voice was soft, and slightly weak when she spoke; “I’m sorry Sebastian-” her attempt at apologising for leaving Sebastian behind was cut short by a chorus of “shhh”s that came from him. His hand that had moved her legs then ran through the side of her hair as he placed a kiss atop her head in an attempt to sooth her, as well as himself. “Don’t apologise, please. You’re safe now,” Sebastian said with a light shaky voice, his chin resting on the top of her head, unwilling to let her out of the attempted embrace.

A sudden crack of a tree branch breaking, along with footsteps made Sebastian’s head snap in the direction it came from as his heart began pounding again while y/n felt a surge of fear when the sound rang through the air, instantly thinking of the situation she had barely just escaped not long ago, and she began to tremble slightly with fear.

Sebastian’s own mind went to the worst scenarios possible; more poachers, more ashwinders, some of Ranrok’s loyal goblins — but as quick as his mind presumed danger, the cause of the sounds stepped from the dark shadows into the camp. Sebastian had taken note of y/n’s slight shaking, her head turned into his chest and he began to try soothe her again. “Hey, it’s okay- it’s only Highwing,” Sebastian said softly as he stroked her hair again, his thumb brushed against her cheek occasionally — something that gave y/n a sense of warmth and comfort.

Highwing stepped into the camp and instantly saw Sebastian on the ground with y/n, and even the Hippogriff seemed worried at the sight of the two students as she stepped slowly and carefully across the camp towards the friends. As she grew closer, Sebastian noticed something in her mouth and he raised his eyebrow slightly to himself. Despite the light front the still burning campfire, it did little to help Sebastian pin-point what she was carrying. Y/n’s head rested against Sebastian’s chest as she turned her head ever-so-slightly to see the Hippogriff approaching slowly. As Highwing stood infront of the two friends, she bowed her head to them as she dropped what she was carrying from her mouth just by where y/n layed on Sebastian. “Looks like someone’s brought you something you may have lost,” Sebastian said with a smile as Highwing nudged the object closer with her beak.

On noticing it was a wand that Highwing carried over so diligently, Sebastian reached out the hand that once administered comforting touches to y/n, the other remained around her shoulders and picked up the wand, tucking it into the inside pocket of y/n’s robes for safety. A small smile danced across y/n face as Sebastian placed her wand away safe and turned her head slightly more to look at the loyal Hippogriff. “Thank you, Highwing,” she said, resulting in Highwing raising her head and letting out a satisfied sound before she lay back fully on the ground. Sebastian and y/n watched Highwing settle for a moment before y/n turned her attention back to Sebastian, looking up at him slightly as she took a moment to think about her words.

“And.. thank you, Sebastian… If you hadn’t had come I-” before she had a chance to get the next word out, Sebastian had cut her off. “Stop,” he said, the word was demanding but his voice was gentle as his hand ran through the side of her hair once more before resting on her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen from her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me. The most important thing is that you’re safe” Sebastian said as he looked at her with his brown eyes that seemed to make his gentle words seem even softer. As he spoke, his words caused her heart to swell. Sebastian’s voice was more gentle than usual, an inflection of a deeper care for her rang through his words leaving the two to share in a quiet moment before y/n broke the silence - not being completely sure how to approach the conversation.

“When you told me what you heard the day Anne was cursed… ‘children should be seen and not heard’..” she said in a soft voice, hoping to cushion whatever blow her words were about to have on him. She could feel Sebastian’s body tense up underneath her and noticed how the arm around her tensed as his jaw clenched. Sebastian’s heartbeat increased as a mix of anxiety, anger and anticipation bubbled within him - not speaking a word, rathering to let her say what she had to say. “..when the ashwinders had me, one of them said the exact same thing..” she paused for a moment, her own anxiety brewing at the thought of how Sebastian would react. “..they were quoting Rookwood, Sebastian.. Rookwood was there that day, he was the one to curse Anne..” she finally said as she looked up at him, gauging his reaction to her revealing the truth behind his sisters condition.

She had expected Sebastian to take the news badly, terribly even - and he would have been right to. Instead, Sebastian gave a small nod as his jaw remained clenched. He wanted nothing more than to go find Rookwood in that moment and make him pay.. To make him experience even a percentage of the pain and suffering his sister had no escape from. Despite his desire to go find Rookwood and do such unforgivable things, he knew in that moment y/n needed him, even if she wouldn’t admit it to him - or herself. He continued to hold her, his grip around her tightened ever-so slightly; a signal to her that despite his quiet demeanour, his mind was anything but.

Her soft hand being placed on his one of his anger-flushed cheeks pulled him from his thoughts long enough to notice her looking up at him, concern etched across her features. “…we will find him Sebastian, we’ll make him pay. I promise.” her words were flooded with sincerity and determination as she spoke, her eyes locked on his. Regardless of what she had just been through, it was clear that Sebastian and his sisters situation was a priority to her rather than her own wellbeing; her selflessness, her care and determination made Sebastian’s true feelings for her flourish more than they had already. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sebastian’s lips as he gave a gentle nod, not trusting his voice to not waver at her promise. Her words and touch soothed the anger that was twisting within him; it slowly being subdued by the emotions that came as a result of her tender actions.

The two sat there for a moment without speaking a word, instead they just looked into each other’s eyes as the campfire’s slowly dwindling flames cast a warm glow on them. It seemed like the rest of the world melted away around them, as if the Fiendfyre came back to life and swirled them in their own bubble. Every thing in that moment, from the breathing of Highwing who lay not far away to the sounds of nature around them, felt right. Y/n was so wrapped up in the moment, so lost in the brown eyes that bore into her own that she didn’t notice Sebastian’s free hand making it way up until it was placed on her cheek, his thumb grazed over her soft skin in such a gentle way that it made goosebumps wash over her skin. Not a single word was shared between the two, instead it felt like the two were the opposite end of magnets that drew closer to each other in slow motion. Her eyes flicked between his and his lips as his face drew closer to hers, both heartbeats sharing an increased speed as their breaths were slightly elevated against one another's. Everything seemed to move slowly as the distance between them decreased, the tension increased; anticipation bubbling under both of their skins until their lips finally met.

It felt like every firework in the world had been set off simultaneously the second his lips touched hers, for both of them. Sebastian's hand moved from cupping her cheek and ran through the side of her hair before stopping at the back of her head, their lips never parting once as they finally indulged in their once-hidden feelings towards each other.

Everything seemed at peace — even if just for a moment. No thoughts of dark wizards, or goblins intent on destroying the world, or the trip to St. Mungo's that y/n would undoubtedly require For just a moment, the two didn’t feel the pressures of the crumbling world around them, didn’t feel the pressure of all the odds being stacked against them. Instead, they let themselves melt into each others touch, revelling in the kiss that spoke volumes for them — the anxieties relating to their feelings for one another that they had both bottled and shoved aside all melted away.

It wasn’t a moment they would rush from, for the first time that year they felt a sense genuine relief and happiness wash over them, as if the pair had The Draught of Peace coursing through them.

It was a moment of genuine emotion, genuine connection between them - two kindred spirits coming together like dancing flames that grew as one as they intertwined with one another; and nothing could ever snuff out the spark.

(a/n; thank you guys for reading, hopefully it wasn't as bad as it is in my mind~ I'm gonna start posting more regular fics/one shots/scenarios I've been building in my head so keep an eye out💖)

💖Sebastian Sallow Taglist💖 @angel-anna @cyan1decandy (let me know if you want to be added for upcoming fics)

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raekensluver · 4 months ago

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melodies of love

description: you and your childhood best friend theodore nott have been through thick and thin together, so when he tells you he's leaving, paired with a confession, it changes everything.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: mentions of parental death, latent fathers, late-night love confessions, theo plays piano!!!!!, musician!theo, modern au!

song rec: symphony by clean bandit ft. zara larsson- “life was stringing me along, then you came and you cut me loose."

w.c: 2.0k

an: i have been waiting so longgggg to use the middle photo of lorenzo.

the room was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the curtains dancing with the night breeze. the bed beneath you was warm and comforting, the familiar creaks of the old wooden frame a gentle lullaby. you laid there sideways, your legs hanging off the edge, the mattress slightly indented from your weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp painted the walls with a golden hue, casting a serene scene of shadows and light.

you felt the anticipation build in your chest, your heart beating slightly faster as you thought about the stories theo might share tonight. the late night talks had been your ritual since you both discovered that insomnia was a shared burden. you'd lay in the darkness, whispering your secrets and fears into the night, knowing that the other was always there to listen.

the bond between you and theo was forged in the fires of shared pain. both of you had fathers who were more like shadows than guardians - present but never really there. the cold shoulder from your father had been a harsh reality you learned to navigate early on, while theo had to deal with the tyranny of his own. it was your mothers' gentle spirits that had truly bound you together. lost too soon to the merciless grip of illness and a tragic accident, their memories remained a beacon of warmth in the cold, unforgiving world of your fathers.

you remembered the particularly bad nights, the ones where the darkness outside was only a reflection of the turmoil within. when the house was too quiet, and the sadness was too heavy to bear alone, you would sneak out of your room, tiptoe down the stairs, and out the back door. the cool grass beneath your bare feet was a comforting reminder of the outside world that waited for you beyond the walls of your father's frigid domain. the night air was a balm, carrying the scent of the blooming lilac bushes that lined the fence separating your yards.

you would slip into theo's house, the soft tinkle of the piano in the parlor guiding you like a lighthouse beam through the stillness. his mother had been a pianist before her illness took her, and the piano remained, a silent sentinel of happier days. theo had taught himself to play, and his music was the voice that soothed your soul. the melodies he conjured in those small hours were bittersweet, a testament to the love and loss that haunted your shared past.

his room was always the same, a sanctuary filled with books and knickknacks that reflected his boundless curiosity. the walls were plastered with posters of faraway places and people, a silent declaration of his desire to escape the confines of your small town. the bed was unmade, the bedspread a tapestry of wrinkles from his restlessness, but there was always a spot next to him where you felt safe. you'd slide under the covers, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill that had followed you from your own room.

his eyes would light up when he saw you, a smile playing on his lips as he whispered a quiet "hey." theo had the kind of smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, a trait you envied and adored. you would share your day's troubles with him, the mundane and the profound, and he would listen with a rapt attention that no one else ever seemed to have. his eyes never left yours, as if by looking away he might miss something important, something only you could tell him.

his voice was low and soothing, a balm to your soul on those dark nights. you felt as if you could tell him anything, and he would understand. the way his fingers danced over the piano keys, the gentle strokes and crescendos, mirrored the tumultuous symphony of emotions that played within you. as you talked, he would often reach out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, giving it a squeeze that spoke of his silent support.

this night was no different, except for the anticipation that filled the air. the whispers of a secret untold. you had felt it brewing for days, a heaviness in theo's eyes, a sadness that even his smile couldn't quite hide. you waited, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, for the moment when he would finally confide in you.

you blinked your eyes open, and there he was, leaning over you, his elbows resting on the mattress. the smile on his face was a gentle curve, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. the lamp's glow painted him in a warm light, making his dark hair seem almost golden. his eyes searched yours, looking for the understanding he so desperately needed.

"i've got something to tell you," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "it's big, and i'm not sure how you're going to take it."

you sat up, scooting towards the headboard, pulling your legs up to your chest. the anticipation grew like a storm cloud in your chest, thick and heavy. "okay," you murmured, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come.

theo took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'm leaving," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. the words hung in the air, thick and palpable. your heart skipped a beat, the blood rushing to your ears, drowning out the world outside of your little bubble.

you felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside you, his body warm and solid. "what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling. his hand found yours again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"i've got a scholarship to a school in the city," he explained, his voice gaining strength. "for music. it's a full ride, and it's a chance to get out of here, to make something of myself."

the words hit you like a wave, crashing over the sandcastle of your quiet life. theo, leaving? It was unthinkable. your eyes searched his, looking for a hint of a joke, a twitch of his lip that would give away the punchline. but all you saw was sincerity, and a hint of fear.

"theo, that's… that's amazing," you managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions - joy for his opportunity, sadness for your impending loss, fear of the unknown. "when did you find out?"

he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "a few days ago. i've been trying to figure out how to tell you." his eyes searched yours, looking for the acceptance he so desperately needed. "i leave next week."

the news was a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. your mind raced with questions and objections, but all that came out was a soft "next week?" the urgency of the situation was stark, the reality of his departure so close you could almost taste it.

his grip on your hand tightened. "i know it's a lot to ask, but… i want you to come with me." he said, his voice filled with hope and desperation. "i can't do this without you. you're the only one who really gets me."

you felt your world tilt on its axis, the gravity of his words pulling at you. the idea of leaving your home, your father, your life behind was both terrifying and exhilarating. the thought of starting anew, of escaping the shadows of your past, was something you had never dared to dream.

you took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic symphony playing in your head. "theo," you began, your voice shaky, "i can't just leave. my dad…"

his expression fell, the hope in his eyes dimming. "i know," he said, his voice soft. "but you can't stay here forever. you're just as trapped as i am."

you felt the weight of his words, the truth of them pressing down on your shoulders. you knew he was right, but the thought of leaving was too much to bear. "i… i don't know if i can do that, theo," you whispered, the lump in your throat growing.

his eyes searched yours, desperation flickering in their depths. "please," he said, his voice cracking. "i don't want to leave you. i need you there with me."

you felt your chest tighten at the raw vulnerability in his voice, a feeling you hadn't heard from him in years. theo was the strong one, the one who held you together when your world fell apart. but now, he was asking for your help, for your company. it was a revelation that shook you to your core.

his hand was still in yours, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand. the warmth of his touch was grounding, a reminder that you weren't alone in this tumultuous sea of emotions. "theo," you whispered, "i don't know if i can."

his eyes searched yours, desperation etched into every line of his face. "please," he begged, the word coming out as a hoarse whisper. "i need you there." the raw emotion in his voice made your heart ache.

you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "theo," you began, your voice trembling, "i…"

but before you could finish, he leaned in and kissed you. it was soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that held a thousand unspoken words. it was a kiss that spoke of a love that had grown over the years, a bond stronger than friendship, a connection that had always been there but had remained unacknowledged.

you pulled back, your eyes wide with shock. "theo," you whispered, your hand still trembling in his.

his face was inches from yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "i know it's a lot," he said, his voice soft, "but i had to tell you. i love you. i've loved you for so long, and i can't just leave without saying it."

you sat there, frozen, his words echoing in your mind. theo, your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone, was confessing his love for you. the revelation was as surprising as it was overwhelming. your heart was racing, trying to keep up with the thoughts that bombarded your brain.

you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in their depths. they were filled with a vulnerability that was as stark as it was beautiful. theo had always been the one to wear a mask, to hide his pain behind a smile. but here, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, his defenses were down, and you could see the raw, unfiltered version of the boy you had grown up with.

his confession hung in the air, as potent as the scent of the lilac bushes outside. it was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, the silence a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around you both. you felt your heart pound in your chest, a symphony of emotions playing out in your mind.

slowly, you reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble that had formed since the last time you had seen him. your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty that you both needed. "theo," you whispered, "i love you too."

his face lit up like the first light of dawn, the sadness and fear fading away. "you do?" he asked, his voice filled with hope.

you nodded, your heart pounding. "yes, i do."

his smile grew, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a blanket. "so, you'll come with me?" he asked, hope dancing in his eyes.

you took a moment to let the reality of his confession sink in. the thought of leaving your father was daunting, but the idea of being without theo was unbearable. "yes," you said finally, "i'll come with you."

his eyes lit up, and he leaned in again, this time the kiss was filled with a mix of relief and joy. it was a kiss that spoke of a future filled with promise and hope. "i'll make it worth it," he whispered against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. "i'll make sure you never regret this."

you felt a warmth spread through your chest, his words like a balm to your fears. "i know you will."

edited 8.20.24

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writtenbyaperson · 6 months ago

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"Touch Base" Zuko x Reader

Summary: You get to touch Zuko's hair and it means a lot more to him than he expected. Word Count: 872 Genre: Fluff, F!Reader

"Wow, soft."

Zuko's hair slides between your fingers. Your wish is being granted by him today. A lucky indulgent day.

"I expected the texture to be…" you form a claw and rake through his brown hair like a school nurse inspecting for lice "like Appa."

"…"

He's offended.

"Like Appa." Zuko repeats with a flat tone. Appa grunts, responding to his name.

"She means that in a good way, buddy." Aang says. Always the mediator.

"Don't make me regret this." Zuko says.

He crosses his arms. If he had eyes on the back of his head they would be staring at you pointedly.

"Sssorry" You whisper faintly. You shut up as to not cut this moment short with your marathon runner of a mouth.

Gingerly you pet and rub the new hair growing on Zuko's scalp with your finger pads. The strands are surprisingly healthy and thick. Does he take care of his hair? Your hands brush from the roots to the ends to even out the hair oil. Occasionally scratching down the back of Zuko's neck. The tension in his neck eases. His whole head even bending to the side a little as you pull back his sideburns with fingernails. Zuko closes his eyes, subdued by the massage. Be damned with how he looks. Every vibration cascades from apex of his skull to the base of his spine. He can't ever remember being given treatment like this at all. "Maybe I could braid-"

"T-that's enough hair touching." Zuko waves your hands off his head. A light pink colors his cheeks. You smile and apologize. At least he was nice enough to entertain you.

"Why don't you ever let me touch your hair?" Katara asks Aang. He mocks a laugh as he cracks walnuts into a bowl.

"You did have hair for a while there, Aang." You say.

"Yeah… it didn't feel right." Aang rubs the back of his head with a bashful toothy smile. Probably trying to forget about what lead up to that hair growth.

Cricketfish sit on the lillies in the lakes. Filling the night with incessant chirping. Zuko tosses and turns. It's stupidly loud for a peaceful building. Plus the bed roll fibers prick him at every angle. He grunts. Giving up, he gets out of bed. Screw sleeping again. The gaang already had dibs on the bedrooms that didn't cave in from being abandoned. So he was left with the depressing children's play room. Sokka made sure to take a jab at him when they gave him the room. There's no way to check the time, so he'll have to wait out the sunrise. Quietly as he can, Zuko leaves the room.

The straw door is permanently pried open. Walking out into the hallway he can see walls lined with rounded windows and the view is extravagant, he never noticed it before. Being too caught up in pointless chases. Tall mountainous islands covered in verdant moss peak through dreamy clouds. Rushing water and peaceful creatures add music to the background. A thin lining of trees surround the building.

"Zuko."

Zuko turns his head, his heart switching gears at being caught up roaming the temple. He calls your name thinking he recognizes the tone. There is no response. Maybe he misheard.

The southern part of the temple was coaxing him, he follows, despite resistance pulling at his stomach. On the way, carvings of Airbenders being jovial and participating in ceremonies lay in the weathered stone. Whimsical imagery by day is haunting at night. Laughing monks mock him as he lights a small flame in his hand to guide him the rest of the way.

He's closer to the source of what called him. Curiosity licks. "Hello?" Zuko whispers.

He pauses.

All of the noise disappears, he could only hear his breaths and the crackle of fire. The south end of the temple bleeds out into a balcony that overlooks the land. The rails thick and crumbling. A blanket is folded up off to the side. He lets the fire go out and goes to the edge.

The sun should come up in a few hours. Fresh moon light glazes the edges of leaves on the trees underneath. Dewy fog coats everything.

Zuko looks at the blanket. Unlike the architecture, it looks fairly new. Plush.

The past month dragged on too long, treacherously tiresome. After pleading his case to the group, the guilt still ate at him. If he didn't get any sleep he'll get sick just like last time.

Zuko's not sure if he would admit it to you, but when you brushed out his hair and massaged his head, he felt peace. A stillness from the turmoil inside him. Each breath was clear and refreshing. The tightness capturing his body let him go for that fleeting moment.

Zuko isn't one for conversation. You were so delicate with him. He'd been touched by people before but even when you were just gratifying your want of touching his hair, you were still so attentive to him. The care you gave satiated a hunger he ignored.

Moving to the middle of the balcony, he sits cross legged. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He manages a smile.

"Thank you."

#zuko x reader #zuko #zuko fluff #atla #avatar the last airbender fanfic #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #atla zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko x you #atla fluff

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tinydefector · 8 months ago

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MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

Masterlist

The Scientist

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working.

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar.

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made .

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him.

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny.

Cyclonus and Tailgate

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking.

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from.

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him,

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows.

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache.

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl.

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there.

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes.

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it.

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for.

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look.

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung.

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod.

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying.

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic, quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish.

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things.

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is.

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads.

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby.

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap.

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it.

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names.

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time.

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is.

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions.

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together.

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage.

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas.

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly.

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about.

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge.

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️.

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients.

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship.

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for.

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him.

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won.

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd.

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron.

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there.

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off.

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him.

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake.

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once.

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters.

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy.

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests.

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves.

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers.

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames.

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl.

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology.

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll.

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus.

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm.

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted".

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety.

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings.

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him.

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up.

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms.

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot.

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime.

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand.

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state.

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid.

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asknoodle · 18 days ago

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Actual name: Luce, but she exclusively goes by Noodle Age: Adult (She's in her late 20s, but she doesn't keep track of the years. ) Gender: She is nonbinary but feels more feminine - She/Her or They/Them Quick backstory: She befriended and became very close to a human named Evelyn, they eventually started living together in Evelyn's home. (Though Noodle was more like a stray cat and came and went as she pleased. But she always returned by nightfall.) Evelyn is the one that gave her the name "Noodle," and was the one that made her sweater. Evelyn tragically died in a freak accident years ago and Noodle couldn't do anything to save her. It still haunts her and she has horrible nightmares about it, but she's trying her best to move on, its what Evelyn would have wanted. Fun facts: - She was born with a condition that's similar to a combination of astigmatism and cataracts. Her vision is clouded and extremely blurry, but she can see colors and blurry shapes as well as changes in light. Her hearing, smell, and touch are heightened because of this, which occasionally causes problems when she gets overstimulated. Despite her disability, she gets around just fine. - Due to her horrible vision, she has trouble teleporting. She can do it, but she chooses not to unless she knows exactly where she is, exactly where she's going, or feels threatened. She's afraid of accidentally teleporting into water, fire, or some other hazard. - She loves animals, they all have such nice and differently textured fur, scales, and feathers. She has a small collection of feathers she's stumbled across in her travels. - She has a pet chicken named Miss Priscilla that she raised all by herself. She calls the hen Prissy most of the time though since the Missus can be broody and protective of her owner. - Her sweater was a gift from Evelyn before she passed, she used to wear it all the time but now she keeps it somewhere safe and only pulls it out when she needs comfort because she's afraid of it completely falling apart. It used to be dyed a bright yellow but has faded and become dingy over the years. - She loves flowers as well, she can't make out the shape of them, but she can see the bright colors and take in their scent. Orange tulips are her favorite. Transcript of the text in the image under the cut.

Noodle She/They Enderman Can see blurry shapes, colors, and light, but is basically blind Nostril Teeth slightly rounded but still sharp Miss Priscilla (Prissy)

#enderman #minecraft #minecraft oc #noodle #Lets see how this goes #;v;

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m4rv3l-girl · 1 month ago

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You’re not empty

Bucky x Y/N

Just an encounter - and a bit of healing for the white wolf…

Requests open

Warning: Some angst.

The city’s lights flickered like broken stars, casting a hazy glow over the streets as Y/N made her way down 9th Avenue.

She checked her phone for the third time, frowning at the lack of response. Bucky was supposed to meet her hours ago. He wasn’t usually one to forget plans, but there’d been a distance to him lately, a subtle drawing away that she couldn’t quite place. Tonight, though, that distance was becoming physical—stretching wider with every unanswered text.

She wandered through the familiar streets, her mind racing with worry and frustration. The occasional neon sign buzzed softly overhead, splashing the damp pavement with colors as she walked. The deep hum of the city around her almost drowned out her thoughts, leaving only the pulsing beat of her heart in the quiet spaces between.

She’d just about given up when a soft, orange glow caught her eye.

Tucked down a side street, a narrow bar with faded lettering on the window gleamed like a forgotten relic from another time.

Inside, she spotted him immediately.

Bucky sat hunched over the counter, shadows pooling under his eyes as he stared down into his drink. He looked distant, almost haunted, like a soldier lost in the memories of battles he’d rather forget. She stood there, watching him from the doorway, her heart tightening at the sight.

Finally, she approached, sliding onto the barstool beside him. He glanced up, a flicker of surprise softening the hard set of his jaw.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “What’re you doin’ here?”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “I could ask you the same thing, Bucky. You were supposed to meet me three hours ago. I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”

He looked away, his fingers tightening around his glass. “Guess I just… got sidetracked.”

The tension settled between them, thick and heavy, filling the silence with unspoken words. She watched him closely, the way his shoulders curled in, like he was trying to shrink away from something, or someone.

“Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” she asked softly.

He sighed, a long, weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand sleepless nights. “It’s… it’s nothing, Doll. Just old memories. Bad dreams. Sometimes it’s hard to shake ‘em.”

Her heart ached at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. She knew he had scars—ones that ran far deeper than the metal arm or the haunted look in his eyes. Gently, she reached out, covering his hand with hers.

“You don’t have to deal with it alone, you know,” she murmured. “I’m here. I don’t care how dark it gets.”

He glanced at her, his gaze softening for a moment before he looked away again. “Sometimes I wonder why you stick around. I’m not exactly the easiest person to be with.”

“Maybe I like a challenge,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Besides, you’re worth it, even if you don’t see it.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always know how to make a guy feel better, don’t ya?”

“Just part of the job, Serge,” she replied, grinning as he shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Serge, huh?” he mused, his tone lightening just a bit. “Guess I could get used to that.”

He took another sip of his drink before setting it down, the glass clinking softly against the counter. “C’mon,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Let’s get out of here. The night’s too quiet for sittin’ in a bar.”

She took his hand, the warmth of his fingers grounding her as they left the bar and stepped into the cool night air.

They wandered aimlessly through the city streets, the quiet between them comfortable, each step a slow unraveling of the tension that had been coiled inside him.

They walked until they reached a small park, its iron gates slightly ajar. Bucky led her to a worn fire escape overlooking the cityscape, and they sat down side by side, gazing out at the endless sprawl of lights stretching across the horizon.

After a long silence, he spoke. “Sometimes I feel… empty,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like there’s nothing left inside me. Just shadows and echoes of someone I used to be.”

She felt her heart clench, the pain in his words cutting through her like a knife. “You’re not empty, Bucky,” she said softly. “You’re just… healing. It’s not easy, but you’re not alone. You’ve got people who care about you, who want to help. You’ve got me.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, his blue eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “You mean that, don’t you?” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the city lights. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” she admitted, squeezing his hand. “But I’m here for the long haul, Bucky. No matter how hard it gets. I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

He turned to her, his face softening as he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a gesture so gentle it made her heart ache. “Darling,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled, leaning into his touch. “Maybe, maybe not. But that’s not up to you to decide, is it?”

A laugh escaped him, low and soft, filled with a warmth that felt like a glimpse of the person he might become, someday. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as they sat there, letting the quiet comfort of each other’s presence fill the empty spaces in their hearts.

As the first light of dawn broke over the city skyline, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You make all this…” he gestured vaguely to the city, the memories, the loneliness, “feel a little brighter. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Love is a funny thing,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “It has a way of filling even the darkest places with light.”

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms as the city came alive around them, its hum of life blending with the quiet promise between them.

It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but in that moment, with the sun rising over the horizon, they had each other—and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

——————————————————————————————————

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky angst

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youronlydarlin · 2 months ago

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Hi dolly!:) silly idea, have you ever tried writing for the hybrid cod guys? Ie: dragon hybrid price or werewolf hybrid soap, not a Request, I just think their neat. Also, probably good for Halloween as it's nearly October!

warning: none. Crack and fluff kinda, hybrid tf141

Ah of course, writing for hybrid cod is tradition at this point

Romantic bits aside. I like to think that each of them are annoying in their own special way. Intentional or not.

For starters, DragonHybrid! Price just reeks off burning wood. No matter how many times he's taken a shower, –no matter how long too!– he always ends up smelling the same. Like a fuckin' pizza oven.

Must be because he's half dragon– you'd think, so you can't really hold it against him. But out comes the second problem, which what seems to be his unhealthy relationship with cigars. What good does he have for temporary, man-made, chemical smoke, when he can produce his own. More natural, more efficient, and quicker too. But alas. It's just one of those cases where you try one thing once, then you find yourself doing it all the time, over and over.

You love the guy, really, you do. But getting any closer than 5 feet would set fire to your lungs, a guaranteed visit to the nurse's office. Doesn't help that kissing him feels like swallowing a dozen lit matches.

While Price's stench is still somewhat tolerable. WerewolfHybrid! Soap's constant howling at the moon might just make you consider transferring to another task force. Unfortunately for you, you also love his stupid face too much to do that. Sigh, the things you do for love. He just can't seem to get enough of that stupid fucking rock floating in the ink of night. Like he was some desperate firefly, who can't reach the light of a bulb. Well, at least he'd be a very handsome firefly.

But oh he cries for it, howls for it, and makes everyone suffer because of it. Heartless monter. A part of you thinks that he's just feeding into the cliché –that his kind is unable to resist that shiny ball of white floating about the dark sky– and the other wonders if he just Palov'ed himself into doing that by accident, and now can't quit.

Next up is your dear HarpyHybrid! Gaz, darling boy he is. He's not much of a nuisance save for the occasional stray feathers you'd find scattered all over the damned base. He has no control over it.

Besides, it's not too much of a problem on most days, but if you're unlucky enough to catch him on a bad mood you'll be left with more feathers than the ones you ordered to clean. And if you happen to hit a very specific nerve he might just ask a favor from his bird friends to shit on your car. Or your head. Whatever quells his thirst chaos at the moment. Is that a new suit? Well it's definitely not gonna smell like one anymore, baby!!

Very petty, and pretty would be the top description for your love.

Lastly we have WraithHybrid! Ghost. Who definitely lives up to his call sign. Never brings shame to it. He haunts the halls like he gets paid to do it, said he'd love for that to be the case. But no. The prick just can't be bothered to alert anyone of his presence.

You'd feel him before you see him. Unexpected taps to the shoulder has you jumping out of skin, and bumping to an invisible body never fails to bring a chill up your spine.

But when you do see him? On the dead of night? Out to get a snack? Ohh, lucky you, if you're a horror fanatic because the worn out material of his mask. That soulless skull. It's enough to give the boogeyman nightmares. Scare the monsters out from under your bed. You'd be glad that it was just skeletons in your closet, and not his dark, grim, saturnine, figure.

The last thing you needed from that was the introduction of the bane of your very tired existence, or as others would call it, "the swear jar". Price was just looking to take advantage of your very consistent "Oh fuck!'s towards Ghost.

a/n: I forgot how much I loved writing. I missed all of you so much.

yours, truly

–Dolly

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bizlybebo · 9 months ago

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anyways hey girl. omoris your prime defenders

explanation of this au below cut cause i actually put a lot of thought into it (HUGE SPOILERS FOR OMORI, PRIME DEFENDERS SEASON 1, AND VAGUELY FOR PRIME DEFENDERS SEASON 2)

—-

this is a pretty different take on the omori dynamic, because it strays pretty far from it obviously. i didn’t really give the party any direct parallels to any of the characters characters (except ashe, because this au is meant to take place in her brain).

gist of it: “headspace” is where ashe went when the trickster took her brain over. it’s where she spends most of her days, but that doesn’t mean she’s not haunted by her past and the glimpses of the real world she gets.

instead of collecting keys for the hangman puzzle, she collects pages, like from her book. each page summons a boss battle against/interaction with the entity on it. sometimes it’s benign stuff like the healing angel or duck, and sometimes it’s not. when ashe levels up to like. level 5 or something she unlocks the giant spectral hand which she used for a lot of combat in season 1.

in a lot of points during an omori playthrough, collecting a key for hangman would trigger a memory. when ashe interacts with a benign spirit from a page, she gets a happy memory, like getting pizza with everyone. when she fights off a malicious spirit, she gets an occasional glimpse into the real world— and sees the destruction the trickster has done and the effect it’s had on everybody.

instead of making ashe’s sprite entirely black and white, i chose to keep her colors pretty dull but also still rather close to her real world colors. this is cause of the symbolism of the other pd boys, and the fact that they all have very vibrant monochrome designs. before they showed up in ashe’s life, her days were very dull, spent cooped up in her room, and when they barged into her house on some random tuesday, they brought color back into her life.

and, obviously, ashe’s “something” would be her mother.

in combat, ashe gets to use moves from the pages she collected. vyncent does knife-based attacks but every couple turns can “charge up” for a small magic one (like how he can light small fires). william does ghost-based attacks, and so he does best when team attacking with ashe. dakota has martial arts-based attacks (basically pretty similar to kel’s skill set from the game). he also has the most hp and is usually the tank of the party.

i’ll probably add some more to this later but this ideas been sitting in my brain for like two days now i needed to get it out

#ignore how fucked up vyncent’s sprite is i’m too eepy to fix it #also no spoilers please !! on season 2 episode 34 #vixen rambles #vixen draws #jrwi #jrwi pd #jrwi prime defenders #art #my art #ashe winters #dakota cole #vyncent sol #william wisp

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blakeswritingimagines · 2 months ago

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Hello, I Love You

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: Yandere! Husk, Fingering, Biting, Breath play, Eating out, Overstimulation, Degradation, Pet names (Pet, Little lamb), Coercion, Cheating, Dub-Con and mention of rape, Mention of drinking (It's Husk), Slight Begging, No protected PnV, PWP. If I've missed anyway let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hazbin Hotel characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

In the shadows of a dingy bar, where the scent of cigars and desperation lingers, a slender figure sits on a worn-out barstool, stirring a glass of whiskey. His name is Husk, a grizzled old soul who has seen it all. His eyes, dark and inscrutable, fix on the figure at the far end of the bar. Your name rang over and over again in his head since he first heard it, a vibrant soul with a heart that is oblivious to the storm brewing within Husk. As he watched you laugh with your partner, a flame of possessive fury ignited within his chest.

Oblivious to the intense gaze fixed on you, you chat with your boyfriend, laughter occasionally escaping your lips. The atmosphere in the bar is a mix of comfort and melancholy, the flickering neon lights casting a dim glow over the faces of regulars and newcomers alike. Little do you know, just a few feet away, Husk watches your every move, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that threatens to consume him. His crimson gaze finally breaks away from the sight of you, turning back to his drink. "I'm not sure what you're laughing at," he mutters under his breath, his voice roughened by years of bitterness and regret. "But I swear if you keep looking at him like that…" A dangerous glint appears in his eyes, a silent promise of retribution lingering in their depths. Husk's gaze flicks back to you as he mutters to himself. Each laugh and smile you direct at your boyfriend stokes the flames of his jealousy, igniting a dangerous and possessive fire within his soul. The grip on his glass tightens, the knuckles of his hand turning white. "Keep laughing and smiling like that, and you're just begging for trouble," he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. "You don't realize who you're playing with."

Days pass, and you live your life, completely unaware of the turmoil and possessiveness brewing in Husk's mind. The memory of your laughter and smiles still lingers in his thoughts, tormenting him like a relentless ghost that he wasn't the one making you smile, and laugh like that. The urge to possess you, to claim you as his own, continues to burn deep within the recesses of his soul, leaving him restless and brooding. One night, as Husk sits alone in the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, a sudden realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Every time he saw you with your darling partner, it was as if a knife twisted in his heart. The thought of you belonging to someone else filled him with a crushing sense of loss and despair. Anger and frustration bubble up within him, the familiar fire of jealousy burning in his eyes. "You're mine. You're supposed to be mine," he whispers to himself, the words filled with a mix of despair and possessiveness. While the memory of Husk haunts your thoughts, you can't help but feel a strange sense of discomfort mixed with curiosity. The possessiveness in his eyes and the possessive air he carries around himself makes you feel a bit uneasy. You're also already in a relationship, and you can't shake the feeling of loyalty and duty to your boyfriend. However, a small part of you can't help but feel drawn to Husk, pulled by an inexplicable force that you don't understand or want to acknowledge. As you wrestle with these confusing emotions, Husk remains in the background, watching and waiting. His patience is wearing thin, however, and each passing day fuels his growing frustration. He knows he shouldn't care about someone like you, but he does. And it bothers him, how you've managed to sneak under his skin despite himself.

Despite Husk's best efforts to rationalize and deny his growing feelings for you, his thoughts were consumed by your presence. He knew he shouldn't care, that he had no right to possess you, but the mere sight of you with your boyfriend sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through his veins. Each day that passed only fueled his growing frustration, a constant reminder of the fact that the one he craved was already claimed by another. As the tension and frustration within Husk reach their breaking point, he finally snaps. Driven by a combination of his possessive desire and pent-up anger, he devises a desperate plan. He follows you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the opportunity presents itself, he forcefully abducts you, pulling you into the shadows with a sense of calculated precision. As you walk down the dimly lit sidewalk, lost in your thoughts, a sudden strong hand clamps down on your mouth, muffling your surprised gasp. A secondhand snags your arm, yanking you off balance and into a nearby alleyway. Your body collides with a hard surface behind you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist, holding you in place. A masculine voice grunts in your ear, "Shh." "Don't scream," Husk hisses, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. His grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses his body flush against yours. "I need to talk to you, and I won't let anyone interrupt us." His words are laced with a dark intensity, leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, he releases your mouth, only to trail his fingers along your jawline, tilting your head to face him. Those piercing crimson eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of resistance or betrayal.

The alleyway is dark and deserted, the dim light from a nearby streetlamp casting eerie shadows on the pavement. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mixture of fear and confusion coursing through your veins. Husk looms over you, his body pressed against yours in a possessive gesture. His grip is firm, holding you in place with unexpected strength. His breath caresses your skin as he leans in closer, his eyes locking with yours, a dangerous mixture of possessiveness and desire burning within him. "You're driving me crazy," Husk murmurs, his lips barely brushing against your earlobe. His free hand trails down your arm, fingertips tracing patterns onto your skin that send shivers up your spine. "Every damn time I think about you…it's all I can fucking do not to march into that hotel and drag you out myself." His voice is low, rough with suppressed anger and unspoken longing. He pulls away slightly, enough to allow you a glimpse of his flushed cheeks and clenched jaw. The proximity between you both sends a jolt of electricity through your body, making your stomach flutter. You swallow hard, feeling your pulse quicken under Husk's touch. "What do you want?" you manage to ask, your voice shaky. "Fuck, what don't I want?" Husk retorts, his gaze dropping to your lips before quickly darting back up to meet your eyes. His hand moves from your arm to cup your chin, angling your face towards him. "I want to hear you moan my name," he confesses, his thumb gently rubbing over your bottom lip. "I want to taste every inch of you until you're writhing beneath me, begging for release." His words are a heated whisper, filled with raw desire and barely restrained lust.

Your breath hitches at his confession, apprehension swirling within you. "And what if I'm not ready for that?" you say, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite the fear creeping its way into your mind, you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving more of his attention. "And I'm seeing someone else…" A low growl rumbles in Husk's throat, his grip tightening on your chin. "Doesn't matter," he snaps, his voice laced with a possessive edge. "I don't give a fuck who you're supposed to be with. All I care about is getting you alone and having you all to myself." His words are harsh, but there's a hint of vulnerability underlying his assertiveness. He steps back, releasing your chin but keeping his hand on your shoulder, anchoring you to him. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the turmoil inside you. "Why should I trust you?" you ask, looking up at him through lashes wet with unshed tears as you wanted nothing more than to just leave right in that moment even if it meant acting like nothing happened. "You've been nothing but rude and dismissive…" Husk lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Trust? What's that got to do with anything?" He leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across your cheek as he speaks in a low, husky tone. "I'm not asking for your trust, sweetheart. I'm telling you how it's going to be. You're drawn to me, whether you admit it or not, and I plan on exploiting that attraction until you're putty in my hands." His words are blunt and crude, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Your stomach twists with unease, a shiver running down your spine at his predatory words. "You're delusional if you think I'd ever let you take advantage of me like that," you retort, mustering up a defiant glare despite the tremor in your voice. You try to step away, but his grip on your shoulder tightens, holding you in place. "I'm not some conquest for you to claim, Husk. I have feelings, desires, and a life outside of this hotel. If you truly cared about me, you'd respect that." Your words hang heavy in the air between you, a challenge thrown down at his feet. Inside, your emotions war between fear and a traitorous spark of intrigue, torn between the urge to flee and the curiosity to see how far he might push this dangerous game. His eyes narrow, studying your face intently as if he could read every thought swirling within you. "Feelings, huh?" He muses aloud, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And what exactly do those feelings tell you about yourself, hmm? About us?" He leans in closer still, his hot breath ghosting over your skin as he whispers, "Maybe you crave the danger, the thrill of being claimed by someone as powerful and dominant as me." His free hand trails down your arm, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "Instead of that pathetic little thing, you call a partner." Your breath catches in your throat as his words wash over you, painting vivid images in your mind that both excite and terrify you. You shake your head vehemently, trying to dislodge the thoughts. "That's not true," you insist, but even to your own ears, the denial rings hollow. Deep down, a part of you yearns for the kind of raw, primal passion he represents - the kind that consumes and overwhelms you until nothing remains but sensation and need. "I…I'm not like that," you stammer, but your resolve is crumbling fast beneath the intensity of his gaze. "I don't want to be just another notch on your bedpost… I just wanna leave, Husk."

He chuckles darkly, the sound low and menacing. "Oh, sweet thing, you already are," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. "From the moment you walked through those doors, you were mine to claim." His other hand reaches out, tracing the curve of your jaw before tilting your face up to meet his piercing stare. "But fine, let's play your little game. You want to leave, huh? Then prove it." He releases you abruptly, stepping back with a wave of his hand. "Go on, run off into the night. See how far you get without me to guide you." His expression turns mocking, a cruel glint in his eye. "I dare you." The challenge hangs heavy in the air between you, a siren's call that tempts and taunts. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos of emotions coursing through you. Part of you yearns to take the dare, to defy him and prove your independence, while another part - the part that craves the safety of his embrace - screams at you to stay. But the desire to assert your autonomy wins out, and you stand up, brushing past him with a defiant tilt of your chin. "Fine then," you say, voice steady despite the quiver in your knees. "I'll show you…" Watching you walk away, Husk lets out a low, appreciative hum. There's no missing the predatory gleam in his eyes as he tracks your movements, every sway of your hips and flicker of light across your curves sending a jolt of arousal straight to his loins. With a smirk playing on his lips, he raises his glass to his mouth, taking a slow sip of his drink as he watches you go. "Run along, little bird," he murmurs under his breath, the words laced with a promise of danger and delight. "I'll be right there, ready and waiting to catch you again."

As you step outside into the cool night air, the weight of Husk's gaze upon you is almost palpable, a tangible force pushing you forward. You find yourself drawn towards the familiar streets of hell, each step a silent affirmation of your decision to leave. Yet, the further you stray from the warmth of the hotel and the intoxicating presence of Husk, the more you question your resolve. The silence that envelops you is deafening, a stark contrast to the lively chatter and music that had filled your senses moments ago. You pause, turning back to glance at the hotel's illuminated windows, a pang of longing gripping your heart. Husk's eyes narrow as he spots you lingering outside, the silhouette of your figure framed by the dim glow of the streetlights. A low growl rumbles in his throat, a primal sound of possessiveness and hunger. In a flash, he's on his feet, stalking towards you with a predatory grace that speaks volumes about his true nature. His hand shoots out, fingers curling around your wrist in an iron grip as he pulls you flush against his chest. "What's wrong, pet?" he purrs, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. "Didn't think you could handle being alone with me? Or perhaps…you missed my touch already?" A shiver runs down your spine as his possessive growl fills the night air. His sudden movement catches you off guard, and you find yourself pressed up against his chest, his strong arms encircling you in a tight embrace. "N-No, I'm fine," you stutter, trying to hide the effect his touch has on you. Husk chuckles darkly, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he holds you close. "Liar," he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Your body betrays you, little one. I can feel your heart racing, and hear the hitch in your breath. You're trembling in my arms, and it's not from the cold." His free hand trails down your side, coming to rest on the curve of your hip. "Tell me what you want. Don't make me pry it out of you."

You tense up as he calls you out for your deception, his grip on your wrist growing tighter. You try to ignore the effect his touch has on you, but he senses your body betraying your true emotions. His words send an involuntary shiver down your spine as he mentions your rapid heartbeat and hitching breath. As his hand trails down your side and comes to rest on your hip, you feel a surge of both fear and unease. You gather up your courage and respond, "Let go of me, Husk." A smirk curls onto Husk's lips, his feline eyes gleaming with mischief and a hint of something darker. "Oh, pet," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And miss out on all the fun we could have together? Not likely." He leans in closer, his hot breath washing over your skin as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "I've been watching you for months, wondering how you'd react when our paths finally crossed so closely. And now, here you are, squirming in my grasp like a helpless little thing." Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear his words and feel his hot breath against your skin. You try to pull away from him, but his grip is too strong. His words send a shiver down your spine as you realize that he was watching you for months, waiting for this moment. "Please, Husk," you say, your voice steady despite the fear and unease coursing through your veins. "Please?" Husk repeats, his voice laced with amusement. "That's rich, coming from someone who can't even admit their own desires." He presses you even closer, his muscular frame a wall of solid muscle against your slender form. "Look at you, all wide-eyed and innocent. But deep down, I know you want this just as much as I do." His fingers dig into your flesh gently, tracing the contours of your body before roughly grabbing your wrist and dragging you away.

Your heart sinks as he mockingly repeats your plea, his voice filled with a hint of amusement. The realization of having no choice but to surrender to his will makes your stomach clench with a mix of fear and resignation. As he pulls you closer, his muscular form boxing you in, you struggle to maintain your composure. "No, that's not true," you protest a note of desperation in your voice. Husk chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with triumph as he sees the fear and desperation in your gaze. "Save it for someone who cares, love," he sneers, his voice low and menacing. With a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you face-first against the bar, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. "We both know you're lying to yourself as much as to me." His free hand roams over your curves possessively, groping and squeezing your rear through your clothing. You gasp as he pins you against the bar, your chest flush with the cold surface. He grabs your wrists, rendering them immobile as he pins them above your head. His words ring in your ears, making your stomach churn with a sense of helplessness. As his free hand roams over your curves. You let out a gasp of surprise and struggle against his iron grip. "No!" you exclaim, your voice. Husk's laughter echoes through the dimly lit bar as you squirm and struggle beneath him. "Oh, come now," he taunts, his hot breath tickling your ear as he leans in close. "You know as well as I do that you're enjoying this." His hand slides lower, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to stroke the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Admit it, you've been craving someone to take control, to make you submit to their every whim." His voice drops to a husky whisper, sending shivers down your spine. "And here I am, ready to fulfill all your deepest, darkest fantasies."

Your struggles become half-hearted as his words sink in almost as if you couldn't believe it, stirring something deep within you. His touch sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins, contradicting your initial fear. "I… I didn't ask for this," you admit in a shaky voice, your resistance waning. Despite your protests, you can't deny the heat pooling between your thighs at his suggestive words. His words send a jolt of arousal straight through you despite your attempts to resist. You bite your lip hard, fighting back a moan as his fingers brush tantalizingly close to your core. "I… I won't let you…" you stammer, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Yet even as you speak, your hips betray you, subtly grinding against his touch. Husk smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Oh, but you did," he murmurs, his fingers teasing higher along your thigh before brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. "Your body is screaming for attention, begging me to claim what's mine, unlike that pathetic excuse of your partner." He nips at your earlobe, tugging gently with his teeth. "And I intend to give it to you, whether you like it or not." With a deft motion, he rips your panties away, exposing your slick folds to the cool air of the bar. "Look at how wet you already are," he growls approvingly, circling your clit with a fingertip. "Your body knows exactly what it needs, even if your mind is still trying to resist." A choked gasp escapes your lips as your panties are torn away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable under Husk's intense gaze. The cool air hits your heated flesh, making you shiver, and your arousal only grows as he touches you so boldly. "Stop… please," you whimper, but it lacks conviction, your hips canting upwards to meet his ministrations. The sensation of his finger circling your sensitive nub makes you clench around nothing, desperate for more friction. "This isn't right," you protest weakly, even as your body arches into his touch, craving the pleasure he offers. The contrast between his harsh words and the tender way he strokes you is maddening, driving you closer to the edge with each passing second. "I'm not yours to claim," you insist, but it sounds more like a plea than a declaration of defiance.

Husk chuckles darkly, his finger continuing its relentless assault on your throbbing clit. "Isn't it?" he counters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your body certainly seems to think otherwise." His free hand reaches out to grip your chin firmly, tilting your face towards his. "Look at me," he commands, his eyes burning with a predatory gleam. As you comply, he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your flushed skin. "You're here, aren't you? Under my touch, responding to every damn thing I do to you." His thumb presses down harder on your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. "So stop lying to yourself and admit it—you want this as much as I do." Your breath hitches as Husk's grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. The intensity in those feline eyes makes your heart race, and you can't deny the truth in his words. Every fiber of your being is attuned to his touch, craving more of the exquisite sensations he evokes. "I… I don't…" you begin, but the argument dies on your tongue as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking relief from the building pressure within. "Please," you beg, the word slipping out unbidden. The ache between your thighs demands satisfaction. You're lost in a haze of desire, unable to think straight, let alone resist the demon's advances. Husk smirks triumphantly at your needy whimper, clearly relishing the effect he has on you. "That's it," he croons, his voice low and seductive. "Give in to it, little lamb. Let me make you feel good." His fingers continue their relentless teasing, stroking and circling until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for release. Suddenly, he withdraws completely, leaving you bereft and aching. Before you can protest, however, he grips your thighs and kneels before you, he pushes your legs apart and lowers his head between your thighs. "I bet you taste divine," he murmurs, inhaling deeply. Then, without warning, his tongue delves into your slick folds, lapping hungrily at your essence.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as Husk's mouth descends upon you, his tongue exploring the sensitive flesh with bold confidence. The sensation is overwhelming, his warm, wet muscle gliding effortlessly through your soaked heat. Your hands fly to his head, tangling in his silky fur as you arch into his ministrations, craving more of that delicious friction. "No," you cry out, your voice trembling with pleasure. The way he devours you as if savoring a decadent treat sends shivers coursing through your veins. You've never been touched like this before, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying. But as Husk's tongue circles your clit with increasing fervor, any lingering doubts are consumed by the all-encompassing bliss. "Stop." Husk pauses his ministrations, lifting his head to regard you with amusement and frustration. "Why would I stop?" he asks, his voice husky with arousal. "You're enjoying this as much as I am." To punctuate his point, he leans in and drags his tongue along your slit once more, groaning at the taste of your excitement. "Your body doesn't lie, little lamb. It craves my touch and yearns for the pleasure only I can give you." He nips gently at your inner thigh, his fangs grazing the delicate skin. "Just relax and let go. I promise I'll take care of you." With that, he seals his lips around your clit and suckles hard, sending jolts of ecstasy shooting through your core.

Despite your protests, your body betrays you, arching into Husk's skilled touch as he continues his sensual assault. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle nip of his teeth sends sparks of pleasure dancing across your nerve endings. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your muscles tensing as the pressure builds within you. "Please," you whimper, no longer sure what you're begging for - for him to stop or to never stop. The conflict rages inside you, desire warring with trepidation. As Husk's lips close around your throbbing clit and he suckles greedily, you can't hold back the keening moan that rips from your throat. The sensation is too intense, too overwhelming. Feeling your surrender, Husk intensifies his efforts, his tongue lashing against your swollen bud with relentless precision. His free hand slips between your thighs, fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. He dips a finger inside, curling it slightly to stroke that sweet spot deep within you. "That's it, little lamb," he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his voice thick with lust. "Let go and come for me." He increases the pressure on your clit, sucking harder while his finger pumps in and out of your clenching walls. The dual sensations are too much, and soon you're writhing beneath him, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over you. The combination of Husk's talented mouth and probing fingers is driving you mad with need. Your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Every lick, every suckle sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. "Husk!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. The world narrows down to the feeling of his tongue and fingers working magic on your overheated body. You're climbing higher, closer to the precipice of release. Then suddenly, without warning, you tumble over the edge. Your entire body tenses as waves of orgasmic bliss crash over you, leaving you gasping and trembling in Husk's capable hands.

Feeling your climax rip through you, Husk draws back slowly, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He smirks up at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Not bad for a beginner," he teases, though there's a hint of pride in his voice. He pulls away completely, standing up to tower over you once again. "Now, let's get you cleaned up before we start round two." With deft movements, he retrieves a warm cloth from the sink behind the bar and begins to gently wipe away the evidence of your pleasure. His touch is still surprisingly tender despite the roughness of earlier. As the aftershocks of your intense orgasm begin to subside, you find yourself sprawled across the bar, limbs heavy and mind hazy. Husk's words penetrate the fog of post-coital bliss, and you realize he's speaking to you. "Round two?" you ask, a mix of trepidation and anticipation coloring your voice. You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he cleans you with surprising gentleness. The contrast between his rough handling earlier and this newfound tenderness confuses you. "I thought… I mean, isn't this enough for one night?" Despite your words, your body betrays you, already beginning to stir with renewed desire at the prospect of more of Husk's skilled attentions. "Enough?" Husk chuckles softly, the sound low and rich. He finishes cleaning you up and tosses the cloth aside before turning back to face you fully. His smirk grows wider, revealing a flash of sharp teeth. "Oh no, sweetheart," he drawls, stepping closer until he's mere inches away from you. "We've barely scratched the surface." He leans down, brushing his lips against yours in a teasing kiss. It's brief but loaded with promise – a prelude to what's to come. "And trust me," he murmurs against your skin, "you're going to love every minute of it."

Husk's grip tightens on your arm, his claws digging in just shy of breaking skin. In a blur of motion, he yanks you off the stool and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You bounce slightly as he carries you effortlessly. "Time to continue our fun somewhere more private," he growls, his hand resting possessively on your ass. He strides purposefully towards the elevators, ignoring your protests and struggles. Once inside, he jabs the button for the top floor, caging you against the wall with his larger frame. "Scream all you want, darling," he purrs darkly, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "No one's coming to save you, not even that little boyfriend of yours." You continue to struggle and kick as Husk easily carries you out of the elevator and down the hall. You pound your fists uselessly against his back, cursing and demanding he let you go. Your heart pounds frantically in your chest as you realize the true danger you are in. This demon means to rape you - and there's nothing stopping him. Tears of fear and fury sting your eyes as Husk kicks open the door to what appears to be his private quarters and tosses you roughly onto the bed. You scramble backward, pressing yourself against the headboard as he looms over you with a predatory grin. "Get the fuck away from me!" You scream, reaching for the nearest thing you could use as a weapon - a heavy glass vase on the bedside table.

Husk's laughter echoes through the room as you grasp the vase, his eyes glinting with amusement and lust. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," he drawls, stalking closer with an unhurried grace. "In fact, I'm just getting started." He snatches the vase from your trembling hands, crushing it carelessly between his fingers. Shards rain down, glittering in the dim light. "That won't stop me, not when I've got you right where I want you." Husk advances, pinning you beneath his weight once more. His mouth descends upon yours in a brutal kiss, his tongue forcing its way past your lips to claim your mouth. One hand tangles in your hair, pulling sharply while the other roams your body, squeezing and groping with a rough intensity. "And I won't let you go now." You gag and choke as Husk's tongue invades your mouth, tasting of cheap liquor and malevolence. Panic surges through you, making it hard to breathe as he manhandles you. Tears stream down your face, mixing with saliva as you struggle to twist away from his suffocating kiss. When he finally releases your mouth, gasping for air, you spit in his face, glaring up at him with hatred. "Fuck you, you monster! I'll never submit to you." You try to knee him in the groin, but he's too quick, catching your leg and wrenching it brutally aside. A searing pain shoots up your thigh as he pins your other leg down as well, leaving you helpless and exposed beneath him. Despite the agony, you clench your teeth and glare defiantly up at him, refusing to break. Husk's eyes flash with fury as you spit in his face, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Oh, you'll submit alright, little lamb." He roughly grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. "In the end, they all do." His other hand slides down your body possessively, claws pricking your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes. As you try to fight him off, Husk easily overpowers you, pinning your thrashing limbs with infuriating ease. He chuckles darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, amused by your futile struggles. "Look at you, squirming so prettily for me." He leans down, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you." Your heart races in terror as Husk's menacing words send chills down your spine. Despite the overwhelming fear, a spark of defiance still flickers within you. You bite down hard on his hand, drawing blood, hoping the pain will deter him. But Husk merely laughs, a cruel sound that echoes through the dimly lit room. "Fucking brat," he snarls, shaking off the pain. His grip on your jaw tightens, forcing you to stare into his feral eyes. "You think a little bite will stop me? I've broken stronger demons than you." With a swift motion, he rips open your shirt, exposing your bare chest to the cool air. His clawed fingers trace the curves of your breasts, sending jolts of pain through your sensitive skin. "Such pretty tits." Husk's touch turns almost gentle as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened nipples. "So responsive too." He leans in closer, warm breath washing over your skin as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "Mmm, you smell delicious…like fear and innocence mixed together." His tongue darts out, licking a slow trail up to your earlobe before nibbling gently. "I could devour you whole, little lamb." One hand continues to explore your body while the other slides down to palm your sex through your panties, rubbing firmly. "But first, let's see how loud you can scream for me…" With a wicked grin, he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Husk's hands roam freely over your body, each touch sending shivers of fear and arousal coursing through you. You gasp sharply as he bites into your flesh, the sharp pain making you tremble uncontrollably. "Stop…please…" you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes. But despite your pleas, a part of you can't help but be turned on by the situation. The thrill of danger, the feeling of being completely at someone else's mercy…it's terrifying, yes, but also incredibly exciting. And deep down, you find yourself craving more. Husk chuckles darkly at your whimpers, clearly amused by your conflicted reactions. "Oh, I'm far from done with you, sweet thing," he purrs, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone as his fingers continue their sensual exploration. He hooks a thumb under the elastic of your panties and slowly drags them down your thighs, exposing your slick, heated core to the cool air. "Look at you…so wet already. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Without waiting for a response, he dives between your legs, burying his face in your pussy. His tongue laps at your folds, savoring your taste as he teases your clit with the tip. "Mmm, I could eat this perfect cunt all night." The sensation of Husk's hot mouth on your sensitive flesh sends shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. You moan loudly, unable to contain yourself as he lavishes attention on your throbbing clit. Your hips buck involuntarily towards him, seeking more contact. "Fuck…stop," you breathe out, biting down on your lip to stifle another cry. The mix of pain and pleasure from his bite earlier still lingers in your mind, adding an extra layer of intensity to every touch. You can't help but push back against him, desperate for more. Husk groans in approval as you respond eagerly to his ministrations, your body betraying your words. He doubles his efforts, sucking hard on your clit while thrusting two fingers deep inside your clenching channel. "That's it, let go," he encourages, nipping at your inner thigh before returning to feast on your dripping sex. "I want to hear you scream my name when you cum." As he speaks, he curls his fingers to stroke that sensitive spot within you, determined to push you over the edge. The sound of your desperate moans and the scent of your arousal only spur him on, driving him to claim you fully. "How I please you better than your little pitiful partner of yours."

Your entire being seems to focus on the sensations coursing through you, each flick of Husk's tongue sending sparks of delight throughout your body. You squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the dual assault of his fingers and mouth. "Fuck!" you exclaim, your voice high-pitched and breathy. "Husk…" The name slips past your lips almost unconsciously, a plea for more rather than a command to stop. Your walls clench tightly around his probing digits, desperate for release. "Please," you beg shamelessly, your pride forgotten amidst the onslaught of pleasure. Hearing his name fall from your lips, Husk redoubles his efforts, lapping at your slick folds like a man starved. He sucks hard on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly with his tongue as he pumps his fingers faster, curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside you. "Cum for me," he demands, his voice muffled against your thigh. "Let go and give yourself to me completely." His eyes, dark with lust, meet yours, holding your gaze captive as he works you closer to the brink. "No more holding back. I want to feel you shatter in my arms." The combined stimulation proves too much, and you feel your body tensing, teetering on the precipice of ecstasy. "Husk!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the bedroom walls as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. Your hips buck wildly against his face as you ride out your climax, your inner muscles clamping down rhythmically around his fingers. Stars explode behind your eyelids, and you swear you can feel your heart pounding harder in your ears. As the aftershocks subside, you collapse back onto the bed sheets, gasping for air.

Watching you unravel under his touch fills Husk with a satisfaction he hadn’t realized he craved. There’s a predatory gleam in his eyes as he pulls away from between your thighs, licking his lips clean of your taste. "That's what I wanted to see," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with arousal. Rising up, he straddles your waist, pinning you down with his weight. His cock throbs insistently against your stomach, eager for its own release. "Now it's my turn," he growls, reaching down to position himself at your entrance. Still trembling from the force of your orgasm, you gaze up at Husk with glazed, tear-filled eyes. The sight of his rigid length pressing against your sensitive flesh sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. "No, please," you whimper, attempting to close your legs and move away from him. Your hands reach up to grasp his hips, pushing him away from your aching core. The head of his cock nudges against your entrance. "Don't do this," you urge breathlessly, your body arching upward in need like it had a mind of its own. The plea in your voice, the way your hands push against him, only fueled his desire further. With a grunt of effort, he forces his way past your resisting body, sinking into your warmth inch by tantalizing inch until he’s fully sheathed within you. The tightness of your walls grips him like a vice, making him hiss through clenched teeth. "Shut up," he snaps, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hips begin to move then, pulling back before slamming into you again and again, each thrust deeper than the last. "Tell me that I'm better."

The pain from his initial penetration gives way to pleasure as he starts moving inside you. Each thrust sends jolts of electricity shooting through your body, lighting up every nerve ending. Despite your earlier protests, your hips meet his movements instinctively, seeking friction and pressure where you desperately crave it. "Fuck…you're so big…" you moan against his mouth, feeling stretched and filled beyond measure. Your nails dig into his back, leaving half-moon marks on his skin as you cling to him for support. A sharp gasp escapes your throat as Husk invades your body, stretching you wide around his thick girth. The initial pain quickly morphs into a searing pleasure that makes your toes curl. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he begins to move, each brutal thrust driving the air from your lungs. "N-no! I won't say it!" you choke out between gritted teeth, determined to maintain some semblance of control despite the overwhelming sensations assaulting your senses. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he pounds into you relentlessly, hitting depths you didn't know existed. The denial fuels him even more. His pace quickens, driven by a primal need to dominate and conquer. Each thrust is punctuated by a low growl rumbling deep in his chest, reverberating through both their bodies. "Liar," he snarls against your mouth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He breaks off the kiss abruptly, raising himself onto his hands so he can watch every expression cross your face as he fucks you mercilessly. "You love it… admit it… now tell me that I'm better than that lousy feeble excuse you claim to love so much."

Your cries crescendo into wails as Husk continues his relentless assault on your body. The raw intensity of his movements leaves no room for anything else - not thought, not feeling, not even breath. "I-I don't…" you pant desperately, struggling to form words amidst the tidal waves of pleasure crashing over you. But how could you deny it? Every fiber of your being sings praises to the sheer brutality of his cock pounding into you unrelentingly. "Fuck… fuck… you're better," you finally concede through gritted teeth, each word torn from your throat as another surge of ecstasy rips through you. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he hears your reluctant confession. His hips snap faster, harder, driving deeper inside you with every stroke. "That's what I thought," he murmurs darkly before capturing your lips once again in a bruising kiss. His tongue explores your mouth fiercely while his hand snakes down between your bodies to circle your throbbing clit rhythmically. "But we're not done yet," he vows against your lips before breaking away to trail hot kisses down along your jawline towards your neck. "Tell me how I'm better." Your mind reels, overwhelmed by the dual assault on your senses - Husk's ruthless fucking and the maddening stimulation of his fingers on your sensitive clit. The combination pushes you precariously close to the edge, your body tensing and quivering with impending release. "B-better… you're b-better than him," you manage to stammer out, your voice ragged and barely coherent. The admission feels like a betrayal, but the pleasure coursing through your veins drowns out any lingering doubts or loyalties. "Your cock… fills me up… makes me feel alive… the most full I've ever felt…" you confess in a desperate whisper, your walls clenching around him as you teeter on the brink of climax.

A pleased purr vibrates deep within his chest at your confession. His thrusts become erratic, almost punishing as he chases after your slick heat. He watches as your body tenses, anticipating your fall over the precipice. "Good little lamb," he coos before leaning down to capture one of your nipples between his sharp teeth. He nibbles gently at first before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, eliciting a gasp from you. "And who makes you feel this way?" he growls against your skin, his hot breath fanning over the mark left behind by his bite. A strangled cry tears from your throat as Husk's teeth sink into your nipple, sending jolts of painful pleasure straight to your core. The mix of sensations proves too much, and your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. "Y-you! Only y-you!" you sob brokenly, your nails raking down his back as you convulse beneath him. Sparks dance behind your eyelids, your vision whiting out from the intensity of your climax. Distantly, you feel Husk's movements falter, his rhythm growing uneven as he nears his own peak. "Fill me up," you beg deliriously, your body still shuddering with aftershocks. "Please… give me everything…" With a final, brutal thrust, Husk buries himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. A guttural moan escapes his lips as his release overtakes him, his thick length pulsing as he empties himself deep within your welcoming depths. "Take it all," he snarls, grinding against you as he rides out the waves of his intense climax. Slowly, his movements are still, and he collapses onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. Panting heavily, he nuzzles into your neck, his tongue darting out to lap at the sweat glistening on your skin. "Such a good pet," he praises softly, his voice roughened from their shared passion. "So eager to please your new master."

Your entire body tingles, every nerve ending alight with sensation. As Husk's weight presses you into the bed, you let out a contented sigh, your fingers idly tracing patterns across his back. "I… I never knew it could be like this," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "With someone who understands what I need." Your eyes flutter shut as Husk continues to lavish attention on your sensitive skin, each lick sending another ripple of pleasure coursing through you. A sigh of contentment slips past your lips as you bask in the afterglow of your explosive orgasm. Your limbs are heavy, each movement seeming to take an eternity, but you manage to wrap them around Husk, holding him close. "Mmm…" you hum appreciatively, your eyes fluttering shut as you savor the feeling of being filled completely. "I've never felt so… fulfilled." You admit, your voice drenched in satisfaction. Despite the slight soreness from his vigorous claim, you find yourself craving more of his touch, his presence. "Don't stop," you plead, tilting your hips to encourage another round of passionate lovemaking. Husk chuckles darkly at your words, pleased by your eagerness. His hands roam possessively over your curves, mapping every dip and swell. "Oh, we're far from done, my sweet little pet," he promises, his voice a low, seductive rumble. He shifts his hips, his semi-hard length stirring inside you, already beginning to fill you once again. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he growls, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to your earlobe. One hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he begins to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust seems to reach new heights of pleasure, stoking the embers of your desire back to a raging inferno. "And I'll personally take care of that pesky partner of yours."

A shiver runs through you at Husk's promise, his words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. You arch into his touch, relishing the way his hands explore your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "That sounds… absolutely terrifying," you admit, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "What are you gonna do?". But despite your initial trepidation, you can't deny the rush of excitement that fills you at the thought of being claimed by Husk. Over and over again. Your breath hitches as he starts moving inside you once more, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent moon marks in their wake, as you cling to him for support. "Oh god… Husk…" you moan, your head falling back onto the pillow as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Husk smirks wickedly at your question, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "Oh, I have plenty of ideas for your precious partner," he purrs, his voice dripping with dark promise. "Maybe I'll start by showing him exactly what it means to take my toy. Teach him how to worship this beautiful body properly." His hands slide up to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh roughly as he continues his relentless pace. Each thrust sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your core, making your toes curl and your vision blur with pleasure. "Or perhaps I'll simply break him, make him watch as I claim you completely until the only thing he can think about is getting a taste of what you're experiencing right now." Husk's grin widens at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "Oh, I have many ideas, my dear. I could start by making sure he never touches you again. Maybe a little visit in the middle of the night to teach him what happens when someone tries to steal what's mine, bet you'd like that, huh?" His voice drips with dark promise, sending a shiver down your spine. He nips at your throat, soothing the sting with his tongue before trailing kisses along your jawline. "But first, let me focus on worshipping this beautiful body of yours," he purrs, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples once more. He rolls his hips, grinding against you, hitting that perfect spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyelids.

Your body trembles under Husk's skilled touch, every caress igniting sparks of pleasure that race through your nerves. "Y-yes, please," you whimper, arching into his palms as he teases your nipples into stiff peaks. The thought of Husk stealing you from your boyfriend sends a surge of desire washing over you. "I'd love that," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. Husk's wicked promises fill you with a sense of safety and ownership like you're his to cherish and defend. As he continues to move within you, the coil of tension in your belly winds tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more of that incredible friction. "Husk, please… I'm so close," you beg, your hips bucking wildly against his. The sultry sound of your moans spurs Husk on, his movements becoming more urgent as he senses your impending climax. With a low chuckle, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he thrusts harder, faster. One hand leaves your breast to slide down your stomach, teasing the sensitive skin until he reaches the heat between your thighs. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. "Let go, my precious," he coos, his voice thick with lust. "Give it to me." His thumb circles your clit in rhythm with his fingers, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. Husk's expert touch pushes you over the brink, the pleasure cresting and breaking within you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clench tightly around his fingers as ecstasy crashes through your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. "Oh god, Husk!" you cry out, your voice raw with bliss as the orgasm rips through you. Waves of pure sensation wash over you, making your toes curl and your head spin. As the aftershocks slowly fade, you collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily, your heart racing in your chest. Husk's presence above you is comforting, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he gazes down at you with a smug, satisfied grin. "That was incredible," you murmur, still reeling from the intensity of your release.

Watching you come undone beneath him fills Husk with a primal satisfaction, his own arousal growing with each ragged breath you take. "You're so fucking beautiful when you lose control," he growls, his voice laced with pride and desire. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your swollen lips before trailing his mouth down your throat, nipping and sucking along the tender flesh. His fingers continue their torturous dance, drawing out lingering sensations from your quivering core. "But we're not done yet," he whispers huskily, his eyes locked onto yours. He shifts, positioning himself between your spread thighs, the tip of his throbbing member brushing against your slick entrance. "Agree to be locked away and never heard from again, make me happy, little lamb." The words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of their actions. But the warmth of Husk's body pressed against yours, the feeling of his fingers still buried deep inside you, makes it difficult to think clearly. "I… I don't know what to say," you admit, your voice shaky with both fear and arousal. You bite your lip, considering the offer, knowing it would mean giving up everything you've ever known. But then you glance up at Husk, his gaze intense and unyielding, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, being locked away with him wouldn't be so bad after all. "Okay," you finally whisper, your decision made. A slow, wicked grin spreads across Husk's face as you give him the answer he's been waiting for. "Good pet," he purrs, his voice dripping with dark promise. With a swift thrust of his hips, he sheathes himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick length. He groans at the exquisite feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping open again, locking onto yours with fierce intensity. "You're mine now," he declares possessively, punctuating his words with a sharp snap of his hips. He sets a relentless pace, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes that hit you in just the right spot every single time. The wet sounds of their joining fill the room, mingling with the slap of skin against skin and your increasingly desperate moans.

Your words are swallowed by a cry as another wave of pleasure crashes over you, your walls clenching tightly around Husk's pulsating member. "Yours…" you gasp out, barely coherent, your mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. Every thrust sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins, making your toes curl and your head spin. Your hands claw at the sheets beneath you, seeking purchase as you struggle to keep yourself grounded amidst the storm of ecstasy. "More," you plead, your voice high-pitched and desperate, begging for release from the torment of pleasure. The sensation of being filled completely by Husk is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and utterly lost in pleasure. Each thrust sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, making your toes curl and your head spin. Your hands claw at his back, nails digging into his skin as you cling to him for support. "Oh fuck," you gasp, your voice rising in pitch with each movement. The thought of being his, of belonging to someone who seems so sure of themselves, is intoxicating. "Please, don't stop," you plead, your body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust. Husk chuckles darkly at your desperate pleas, relishing the power he holds over you. His grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise as he pistons into you with renewed vigor. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass fills the air, obscene and filthy. "That's it, take it," he growls, angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. "Take my cock like the needy little slut you are." One hand leaves your hip to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. His other hand snakes between your bodies to rub tight circles over your aching clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me," he demands, his voice rough with lust.

The pressure on your throat and clit combine to send you spiraling towards obliviation. "Fuck!" you cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clench down hard on Husk's cock, milking him for all he's worth. The feeling of him filling you so completely, combined with the intense pleasure coursing through your body, pushes you past the point of no return. "Husk!" you scream his name, your entire body convulsing as wave after wave of bliss washes over you. Your climax rips through you with such intensity that it leaves you seeing stars, your vision going hazy and white around the edges. Husk groans deeply as your inner muscles clamp down on his shaft, squeezing him like a vice. The sensation is exquisite, bordering on painful in its intensity. He continues to thrust into your fluttering heat, riding out your orgasm and using your spasming walls to bring himself closer to his own release. "Yes, fuck yes," he hisses through clenched teeth, his movements becoming erratic as he nears the edge. With a final, brutal snap of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and stills, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed deep within your core. A low, guttural moan escapes him as he comes undone, filling you with what feels like an endless stream of hot cum. As Husk's thick essence floods your insides, you let out a shuddering moan, savoring the feeling of being marked and claimed so thoroughly. Your body goes limp beneath him, spent and satisfied in a way you've never experienced before. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as the last spurts of his release paint your walls, and the knowledge that he's branded you from the inside out sends a thrill racing down your spine. "Fuck, Husk…" you breathe, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "That was…" You trail off, unable to find the words to adequately describe the mind-blowing pleasure he's just given you. All you can do is lay there, basking in the afterglow and relishing the delicious ache between your thighs.

Husk collapses onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he struggles to catch his breath. His heart pounds against your chest, the rhythm gradually slowing as the adrenaline drains from his system. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat that clings to your skin. "Mmm… you took me so well," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your body. "Such a good little slut for me." He rolls his hips lazily, grinding his semi-hard cock against your sensitive walls and drawing a whimper from your lips. "I'm going to keep you stuffed full of my cum," he promises darkly, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to... if you leave this room ever anyway."

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sammyboyimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Cold Embrace

Astarion x Fem!Reader

//ahh! first time writing for BG3 since I started playing in September. So excited to write for all the characters! This takes place somewhere in ACT 2.

Summary: Astarion had a nasty habit of taking every moment to scrutinize your actions. But in a moment of forced closeness, you have no choice but to talk it out.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Astarion's past, mean!Astarion.

Word Count: 3.7k

The darkness of the Shadowlands brought on a new wave of anxiety through you the deeper you got into the thick bristle surrounding its past. It reminded you of your home, the war-torn town ravaged by bombing, raiders of all races, and rapidly spreading fires that enveloped any hope of survival. Shortly after fleeing your home and heading to Baldur’s Gate, you had a nasty run-in with some mind flayers, and the adventure started there. The hidden shadows loomed over the party as you made your way to Last Light Inn, a shiver running down your spine.

The land itself was terrifying, but the fact that this dark realm reminded you of home was all the scarier. A runway from a young age, you found solace at Baldur’s Gate under the narrow alleyways and the occasional generous storefront owner who was nice enough to provide some currency or even some food to spare.

Every time the party left for another day of traversing through the harsh darkness, a pit of nausea sat at the bottom of your stomach like a pile of boulders, weighing you down. The faint smell of sulfur and ash filled the air, the flames of your torch providing the only medium of safety. And a flimsy medium of safety at that…

“Hey, soldier…Everything alright?” Karlach was, of course, the first to notice the change in your demeanor as she followed closely beside you. Her fiery hot temperature warmed your body as she stood beside you, notes of concern on her features. “You’re awfully quiet for someone so cheerful..” Karlach trailed off, a slight hesitation on her part.

It was true, you were generally the sunshine figure at camp, even when spirits were abysmally low. “I’m alright, it just brings back some bad memories, being here.” As much as Karlach’s comforting warmth beckoned you to dump all the information about your past right on her doorstep and walk away, you felt Karlach did not deserve to be burdened by your dark past coming back to haunt you.

“Well, either way, I’ll be sitting by the campfire later if you want to find me and talk about it, love.” Karlach pulled ahead, her hands swinging freely by her side. At times it seemed like nothing in all the planes could shake her, it was admirable. The journey through the Shadowlands was fraught with challenges, yet Karlach’s unwavering spirit and warmth brought light to the darkest of days.

You wished to feel the same way, dreaming that the overwhelming fear of losing it all would dissipate. The sunny days as you travel with your group to the Mountain Pass aided with your struggles. Long journeys ended with warm nights that felt like a comforting hug against your body on the bedroll. You watched the sky go dark and the warmth of the sun faded to a deep chill.

“Let’s change up the subject, shall we? What are you going to do about a certain someone at camp?” Karlach attempted a whisper, her voice only slightly lowered as she asked you.

The certain someone was a nuisance, a nagging pain that refused to scare off no matter how many times you threatened him midst frustrating battles after he made a snarky comment.

Astarion.

Each passing moment with the group only fueled hatred for the man—his penchant for feeding on your insecurities whenever they’d rear their head. One particular source of embarrassment in the recesses of your mind was the moment you came upon some cultists of the Absolute on the path from the Emerald Grove.

They had a sword to you, the sharp edge pressed tight against the small of your back. “Don’t you try anything, sweets. Tell me what I need to know and you’ll go free. Where is the godsdamned grove?” A low rumble of laughter shook the evil creature behind you. In that harrowing moment, you had two choices; give up the information or die.

Without a pause, you surrendered and gave half-truths. Anything that would send them down the wrong path with the confidence of ten men. Perhaps it was a survival instinct or a depressing act of cowardice. Emerging from the encounter, you felt the crushing weight of shame lingering over you. How could a leader surrender so easily?

The sad looks of pity from your party members weren’t the worst of it, no. It was Astarion’s biting taunts that sunk the deepest, an assault on your confidence.

“Are you going to be like this whenever we face anything other than a mere goblin?” His voice was laced with venom while he spoke. He shifted his weight onto one hip, eyebrows raised as he blatantly belittled you with no remorse.

You had decided to come out of the situation with grace rather than retaliation that day, especially considering the words that left his blood-hungry mouth as you turned your back to him to continue your journey; “Wonder when she’ll decide to sabotage us again.”

You pressed on, ignoring the sting as tears welled up in your eyes. Those words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of why you were here in the first place. The party followed closely behind, just out of view.

It’s safe to say that the vampire had been less than kind to you ever since you picked him up from the trail outside of the nautiloid. But even his harsh remarks did not warrant any reciprocity from you, instead an aching in your chest that could not be explained. An odd twist among the animosity.

You fingered your blade between your hands, absentmindedly admiring the smudges and tiny chips in its shiny silver exterior. The blade was a tangible reminder of the battles and hardships you had endured, the weapon’s previously shiny exterior now marked by scars just like you.

“What’s got you down, darling? Break a nail?” Astarion’s mockery dripping in amusement, the remark was yet another dagger stabbed into your back by your supposed “friend”.

“I can’t deal with this tonight, Astarion. Please, just leave me alone.” You sounded more sad than you intended, cringing at the sound of your own shaky voice. He didn’t get the message though.

After a quick silence, Astarion retorted with some venom of his own, like always. “Whatever, sulk all you want. We’re going to Moonrise tomorrow, and if you can’t handle it, then perhaps you should hang back at camp while the rest of us do the hard work.” A fake pout spread across his lips, his hands laid on his hips.

Astarion had no idea where his hostility came from. When you’re in his vicinity, he feels so vulnerable, like you know exactly what’s in his head. Your presence annoyed him simply because he didn’t know what to make of you. Why were you being so reserved despite his remarks?

“You know what?”

Your frustration finally boiled over as you threw your silver chalice onto the ground, the shitty wine spilling out as it clattered to the dirt floor. “I’m sick of listening to you spew all this bullshit, Astarion. You don’t know shit about me, not that I’d trust you not to use it as a weapon against me!” You approached him, a finger waived in his face as you followed his retreating footsteps.

“Now now, darling. You know I’m just teasing you-”

“Just teasing? You’re an insufferable asshole. Next time you want to approach me, it’d better be with an apology or you’ll leave with a wooden stake in your torso.” Your words caused an ear-splitting silence that only made you feel leagues worse. That threat caught the attention of the other camp members, Halsin and Karlach quickly jogging over to break it up.

Karlach dragged you away to her tent, allowing you to sit while she got set up for the night. “That was explosive! Had we waited any longer, you’d both be leaving with bruises and broken limbs. What in the hells happened?” Her outrage was understandable, but the red-hot fury rushing through your veins blurred any rational thought.

Meanwhile, Halsin stood in front of Astarion with his arms crossed. They were just out of earshot but you could tell Halsin was not pleased with the situation.

“You didn’t hear what he said, Karlach.” Before you could continue with your angry ranting, Karlach put a hand up to stop you.

“Uh-uh, you and Astarion must talk this out like proper adults. Can’t believe I’m the one telling you to cool off, but it’s true.” She let out a small laugh at your pout. “And don’t give me the puppy pout, soldier…”

“Tomorrow, find an appropriate time to talk it out- without violence, please!” She grasped your shoulders firmly as she directed you towards your tent. Settling down for the night, you nestled yourself into bed with a myriad of thoughts swirling in your tadpole-filled head. As usual, sleep did not come easy.

The next morning, you awoke to the grating sound of Astarion banging two pots together. “Wake up, fearless leader! We’ve got a lot of people to murder today!” He shouted from outside your tent, snickering at his own actions. You heard Karlach shout at him as she yanked the pots from his hands.

“Get away before I break you in half…” The threat was fake, but it scared him off either way. He scoffed to himself, frustrated that the whole group danced around your feelings as if you were made of glass.

Your journey through the Shadowlands continued as you approached Last Light Inn. The aching in your feet was unbearable, each new step sent a new wave of aching through your body. The inn was so close, a faint light cutting through the dense darkness. It had to have been at least a couple of miles away at this point. Through the dark, monster-infested forest, the walk had been anything but relaxing.

The ground gave out underneath you, the dry unsaturated dirt falling and giving way to a deep hole in the ground. Perhaps it was a trap, you thought. Glancing around in the small space, you managed to find no evidence of foul play. Maybe it had just been the ground weakening after so many years in darkness?

Either way, the groaning just feet away from you made you glance below you to see Astarion slowly getting back on his feet. “Oh, this is just perfect. We were almost there, but no, we had to step into this trap-or whatever it is…” he whined to himself, glancing up at the rest of your party that stood above you.

“Shit! Hold on you two, we’ll look for something to help you out. We don’t have any rope on us, so we’ll have to see if we can find some!” Karlach shouted down at you both, digging through her pack for anything useful but not success. She whispered quietly to Gale, who gave a quick nod in response.

“Um, guys? What’s the plan here?” You voiced your concerns, and worry spread over your features.

The pair left quickly, making their way to Last Light Inn as fast as possible in an attempt to get assistance. “Where the hells did they go?” Astarion spat out, an angry expression on his face.

“To get help, what else?” You shrug. “Karlach wouldn’t leave us behind.” You leaned against the dirt wall of the hole, rubbing your temples as you felt a headache coming on.

“Unlike someone in our little band.” Astarion chuckled at his own joke, meanwhile, you were anything but amused. Direct attacks like these weren’t uncommon, but they still hurt nonetheless.

Words felt short as you searched your mind for some witty response. “What did I do to you?” You asked, a softer tone taking over. Astarion paused, looking you up and down.

“Excuse me?” He wasn’t sure he heard you right. Were you playing the victim?

“Did I do something wrong that made you decide to criticize me for everything? Or is it just your favorite pastime to make me feel like shit?” A shaky voice that came out as you spoke surprised you. You’ve faced more fearsome men than Astarion, yet you can’t keep your composure enough to scold him for his bad behavior.

Astarion paused for a moment, his breath quickening in realization of his actions. He traced his surging thoughts for a cause- any motive for treating you this way. But there was none.

Trapped in the darkness of the sinkhole, the urge to escape drew heavier and heavier as silence fell upon the two of you. Rescue could be hours- days away, who knows what danger could occur if they don’t return?

You had managed to stay far enough away from the vampire so that your backs were almost touching, a warmth from your body sending heat waves his way.

“There’s got to be a solution. Do you have any ideas? A shovel?” You cringed at your own unpreparedness, you’d forgone taking the shovel on your journey and left it in the chest of your belongings.

Your thoughts were cut off by an unwavering silence. Astarion had no retort, no sarcastic teasing, nothing. You huffed out a quick breath, the dirt wall shedding particles of dirt in consequence. “Look, I know we haven’t been pleasant with each other ever since we met, but I do not plan on dying in a hole.” You started clawing at the walls of the sinkhole, dirt clinging underneath your nails.

“I know you hate me but we have to assume the worst and-”

“I don’t hate you.” A soft voice broke the seemingly never-ending silence from Astarion’s side.

“What?” You stopped digging for a second, not being able to hear your own thoughts from the rock and rubble hitting the floor.

“I don’t hate you…” His expression softened, and his sharp features dulled into a tender gaze.

“If this is some kind of cruel joke, I’m not playing a role in it. From the way that you speak to me, would it be unfair to assume you’re not a fan of my presence?” You did not want to chew him out, but this day could not get worse, so you neglected your inhibitions for now.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why, but I just can’t…” he took a pause to think about his wording because you’d surely dig your way out and bury him if he found himself offending you.

“I can’t uh- function when you’re around. I feel like you’re- ugh I don’t know, pitying me?” He asked as if it were a question you could answer.

“Pitying you-what?” You could hardly see his face, but you could slightly visualize his white curls as he stood almost a foot away from you. You could smell his cologne, a faint woody yet citrus smell that made you dizzy.

He may be beyond aggravating but godsdamn did he smell good.

The confined space seemed to magnify the tense emotions between you. It was almost intimate, the way you could practically cut the thick tension with a knife. “You’re just so, nice…” He started speaking again, a different tone in his voice.

Honesty.

Astarion could sense your anger before you erupted and shoved him against the dirt wall. A wave of heat rose to his cheeks- was he blushing?

“Are you fucking kidding me, Astarion? You treated me like shit because I was nice to you? You better have an explanation-” He cut you off by pressing you back and right into the dirt wall behind you. Any frustrated words fell on your tongue before you could say them.

“You pick me up off a random trail, offer me to stay with you, and treat me better than I have ever felt. After years of bullshit from my master, all of a sudden you come around as a result of these fucking tadpoles, and I just trust you.” He paused when he noticed the heavy silence from you.

The unexpected confession was fucked up, especially considering that he could have had this conversation in the time he’d been in your party. “Why-”

“As much as I love to hear your voice, let me finish.” With that, your stomach fluttered in response to him. Not just his words, but his large hands that pressed your shoulders gently into the wall. It wasn’t a hard grasp, you could absolutely pull away if needed.

“I have never trusted anyone in my entire lifetime. But from the moment I pulled that knife on you, I knew you were nothing but genuine. And that’s just it. Why are you so nice despite everything I’ve done to you? Just tell me you hate me, be rude.” He begged you.

“I don’t hate you.” You were copying him now, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“See! Pity. Just tell me you have some kind of ulterior motive and you’re not the first person who has shown me any kindness in over 200 years.” He was almost moved to tears at this moment. His hands shook, just mere centimeters from yours as he pleaded for any sign of hatred on your part.

Of course, he didn’t hate you. How could he?

The way you blindly trusted him had him suspicious at first, but the more he grew to know you, the more he appreciated it. It wasn’t so much the physical aspects that he enjoyed, though you were the most stunning woman he’d seen in his many centuries on Faerûn.

Your eyes were almost magnetic, the adoring glint in them when you gawked at a cat or anything else that caught your attention made him wish you’d glance at him that way. Hells, if you’d give him a single smile, he’d be reminiscing about it for the rest of the day. Feeling the sun on his skin for the first time in several years, and seeing the forest in its full color, neither compared.

His breaths were heavy with insecurity, a pit in his stomach as he gathered the courage to raise his gaze to you.

You spoke softly. “You know you’re not a bad person, right? You’re not a monster.” You shrug it off as if it were a fact that simply rolled off your tongue without a single residual thought. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Your voice shrunk slightly, realizing how heavy this confession might weigh on a vampire spawn.

Astarion was speechless for a brief moment, an incomprehensible look on his face. “If only everyone else thought the same, dear.” He didn’t quite know what to respond with. After all he’d put you through, the feeding, the enemies he’d made along the way; he’d understand if you had run away in fear, but you didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks of you.” You frown at his words, the feeling of his body against yours is intoxicating, but you manage to push away your lust for the time being. “Hells, it doesn’t even matter what I think of you-”

“It does! Look…” He sighed to himself, removing his grasp on your shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, resting on the slightly rusted metal armor you had acquired somewhere in the recesses of the Githyanki Creche. “I care what you think…” His red eyes glared down at you, his gaze flicking down to your lips occasionally.

“I’ve been unfair to you, dear. I held you to higher standards and scrutinized everything you did as if I could do it any better than you. You’re just uh- not like anyone I’ve ever met, and the fact that you can understand me better than myself it seems-” He paused, another sigh leaving his lips.

“It scares me.”

Astarion’s gaze faltered from his confession, a taste in his mouth that could only be described as embarrassment. Dragged from his thoughts yet again, your warm hands met with his face as you held his cheek. “I understand, Astarion. But you also have to understand that I couldn’t have possibly known your true intentions. I mean- that was some heavy scrutiny…” You snickered to yourself, watching the embarrassment on his face melt away into a softer expression.

The rest of the campaign had not arrived just yet, and the blistering cold air was near impossible to beat. Though Astarion’s body was not very helpful for warmth, it felt better than simply standing on your lonesome in the small dirt hole.

Between the close proximity and your hand on the side of his face, his mind was clouding with desire. “Gods, how could you stand all of it? If it were me I’d have bloody killed you by now.” He said with a pout on his face.

You thought of how to respond to that. Was it not sheer luck that you hadn’t murdered him near the nautiloid after he threatened you? Have you been harboring these feelings this whole time?

“Perhaps it’s your charm, or perhaps it’s the fact that there is little other option than to be friendly with you.” You held your tongue as often as possible during Astarion’s teasing, but it seemed like he finally understood.

“No no, I think it was the first one.” He stuttered out with a gentle smile, his fangs briefly appearing, shining in the faint moonlight. “You know…the rest of the group is going to be gone for a while. I know a way we can make time go faster…” The topic of your interest in him had always kept him awake at night, but now that he was positive you felt charmed by his words despite his endless mockery, he felt warm inside.

Astarion was not blissfully unaware of his past. Men and women would see him for one thing; his body. If he were to withhold, the opportunity for praise from his master, Cazador, would be gone. You were not simply a victim for Cazador, so why did he feel like he needed to use himself to keep you?

You put a hand on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “Baby steps, darling. First, I think we should focus on getting out of this hole.” The sigh of relief that came from Astarion’s mouth confirmed your silent theory about him. The man had been extra flirtatious to practically everyone he met, and as the time you spent with the rest of your part grew larger, you could see his disdain with every passing word.

A frown on his face afterward, brows knit tight together in thought. Regret.

“Oh, well-” He paused, swallowing the urge to shell himself out. “That’s very refreshing to hear.”

“I’m glad.”

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