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thefirstradiant · 1 month ago

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Suptober Day 8: Witch’s Brew

What’s My Flavor?

✨Wincest✨ Rating Explicit. Written for #suptober24 prompt: Witch’s Brew and kinktober kinks: choking, dubcon (but not really, just under the influence of magic), and tied up.

Words: 2.5k

Sam needs to willingly drink the antidote. Dean knows exactly how to pull that “yes” out of his brother.

A/N: Title is from a very Wincest-coded song, Sailor Song by Gigi Perez. Also this may be my new favorite lil thing I’ve written hehe

The purple wisps of smoke continued to curl into the air and make Dean cough and splutter. Why did potion making always have to be so intense, he thought, annoyed at his own annoyance. It’s a magic potion, of course it’s gonna smell terrible and coat every bit of air in this tiny room.

That’s not the only thing Dean was annoyed at currently though. He stared at his stupid little brother. It was just supposed to be a regular witch-killing, or at least, witch-neutralizing. No need for annoying counter potions or dealing with this.. version.. of Sam.

But, of course, Sam’s sitting in a short wooden chair with ropes around his arms, legs, and chest, and a dopey smile on his face in this storm cellar of all places. He just had to take the knife, didn’t he?

“Well, boys, that’s my part done.”

Dean looked up as Rowena stepped back from the cauldron, nodding her head in satisfaction at the bubbling liquid. She had a flask poured out and set it down on the table.

“Now you need to get him to drink that. The whole thing.”

She spared a glance over at Sam, who was currently glaring at the potion, and continued.

“I don’t envy you. But, if you don’t, he’s going to be like this until he dies. Remember, he must agree to taking it. You can force him, convince him, anyway you like, but he must agree. Or else it will be useless, no matter how good a witch I am.”

Rowena took a long look at Dean like she was contemplating something, but then turned and climbed the stairs out without another word.

Dean felt the first spark of real fear cut through his annoyance. What if he couldn’t get him to drink it? They’d only reached one other victim in time, and had failed to get her to agree to the antidote.

The witch’s spell was a particularly awful one. As far as they could tell, she gave her victims a taste of genuine happiness and whatever they wanted until, inevitably, they died or killed themselves in some horrible, stupid way. None of them had wanted to turn back.

Dean sighed and looked back over at Sam, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the potion.

“We’re gonna get through this, Sammy. I don’t know how, but we will.”

Sam wriggled in his ropes and tried to sit up straighter. The glare at the potion became a glare at Dean.

“I’m never going back. I’m never drinking that potion.”

Damn. Not starting off great. Dean stood and advanced slowly toward Sam, ignoring the flask for now. The chill in the room became more and more apparent as he got closer. Was it Sam doing that? The witch? Or was it just worry trickling up and down Dean’s spine? He wasn’t sure.

He stood barely a few inches away from the chair, placed his hands around Sam’s bound arms, and leaned down to be even closer to him. He needed to make his brother see in no uncertain terms. Even through the haze of the potion, he should be able to get this. Dean made sure he was looking straight into Sam’s eyes before speaking in a slow, deliberate tone.

“Yes. You will be.”

Dean watched as Sam’s throat clenched and swallowed. He saw a shiver run through him and his face softened for just a second before glaring at him again.

Oh. Okay. Sure. If that’s how Sam wanted to play it, Dean could get behind it. He shook off the fact that it’s been years since Sam had asked for anything like this from him and the fact that he wasn’t really asking this time either.

Dean studied the man beneath him. His fists were clenched hard and he was trying to hide the heaving of his chest. So needy.

“Sammy. Look at me.”

Dean reached out a hand and forced Sam to look directly in his eyes again. He shuddered under the touch. Dean almost laughed. Sam’s been hit by a spell that gives him happiness and the desire to take whatever he’s always wanted, and this is what he responds to?

Dean lowered his voice to almost a whisper. He could feel himself already getting hard.

“Sammy, you idiot. You don’t need a potion for this.”

Sam groaned and immediately tried to pretend he hadn’t. He seemed like he was trying to look away, but couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from Dean.

Dean could clearly see the bulge in his jeans where his legs were forced apart by the ropes. There wasn’t any denying it anymore. He’s kind of hot like this, Dean considered, surprising himself.

Sam eyes had shifted downward and locked onto Dean’s crotch, which he knew had a matching bulge. Sam began to whine. Standing over him, Dean felt very tall again, looking at a small, younger brother. So pretty, so eager.

“Shhhh, I’ll give you what you want, but you gotta drink the potion.”

Sam jerked up and stared Dean down. Apparently he wasn’t far gone enough yet.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Dean growled low in his throat. His hand came on to Sam’s chest and pressed him backward.

“I’ll fuck that yes out of you if I have to, Sammy, don’t challenge me.”

Sam, for his part, just moaned and leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. He was so responsive it was rushing to Dean’s cock everytime he made a noise.

“Fuck, you really like that don’t you?”

Good to know, he thought, filing these things away for a less dire situation.

“I’m gonna untie you now. If you leave, you get nothing. Nod so I know you understand.”

Sam looked angry, but nodded a tad too frantically anyway. He’s really desperate for it, I wonder how many years he’s kept this inside.

Dean slowly untied all Sam’s limbs and his chest and allowed him a moment to stretch out before he gave him another order.

“Now, take off your pants and get on the floor. Hands and knees.”

Dean was almost surprised at how easy this was for him. It felt.. natural, especially with the way Sam responded to everything like he wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.

Sam moaned again and unbuckled his belt with trembling hands. He looked at the wall while stepping out of his jeans and throwing them aside before kneeling down, facing away from the table that still held the potion.

Mmm. Dean stared at his brother presenting his ass up towards him with his head hanging low towards the floor. Goddamn. Dean’s own jeans were painfully tight, so he unzipped them and pulled them down slightly to give himself some freedom.

The sound of his zipper echoed around the room and he heard a small gasp from Sammy as he waited for Dean to come closer.

Fuck.

Not able to wait any longer, Dean’s eyes raked the table covered in potion ingredients. Rowena must have used something mm- ah that’ll work. Dean grabbed a bottle of some kind of basic oil and settled down on the floor behind Sam. The potion was still within reach. Good.

“Dean..” Sam sunk even lower to the floor, only keeping his ass up.

“Oh, Sam, I don’t think a pack of wild werewolves could stop me now.”

Dean ghosted his fingers over Sam’s sides, pushing his shirt up and grabbing his hips.

Sam let out a delicious moan that had Dean pulling down his boxer-briefs immediately and finally getting a good look. He groaned. Sam’s little pink hole looked much as he remembered and a rush of how it felt came back to him suddenly.

His fingers began to glide over Sam’s hole and he dribbled a small amount of the oil onto them.

Sam gasped.

“Yeah, Sam? You’re ready, aren’t you?”

Sam pushed his ass back against Dean in reply and moaned low into the floor as Dean pressed a slick finger into him. He chuckled softly.

“Son of a bitch, Dean. Come on.”

“Always so desperate for me, aren’t you?”

But Dean gave him another finger quickly and started pressing in and out as Sam moaned openly and reached down to touch himself. Damn, that was hot.

Dean added a third finger, probably before Sam was really ready, but he didn’t care, he needed to fuck Sam NOW.

“Dean!”

“Mm, .. I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

“PLEASE!”

Sam was clearly done with the waiting and preparation. So was Dean, he could hear himself breathing heavily. Dean gave Sam a few more thrusts with his fingers, Sam moaning in response, and then pulled them out, purposefully snagging on his rim.

Sam was whining and pushing out toward Dean like he was trying to get his fingers back in him. Like he needed something in him.

“Mmm come on, Sammy, hold on. You know what’s coming.”

Dean smiled as he dragged his fingers back over Sam’s hole and he twitched delightfully. Mmm. Gorgeous.

Dean shifted back onto his knees and rested down on his legs. While Sam couldn’t see him, he grabbed the flask full of thick purple liquid and placed it behind himself. He was surprised he even had enough presence of mind to remember the potion, with Sam still stretched out on the floor in front of him, hair a complete mess and back covered in a soft pink blush.

“Turn over.” He ordered. “Now.”

Sam wasted no time at all and breathed out softly while turning to lay with his back down on the cold floor. Dean could see that the blush continued over his stomach and the part of his chest peeking out from under his shirt. There was a light dusting across Sam’s cheeks too. He was warm to the touch and Dean couldn’t help but run his hands all over Sam’s sides and hips.

“Mmm. So perfect.”

“Dean.. please.”

“I’ve got you, Sam. I got you.”

He shifted and pulled his jeans down a little more so he could get his boxers out of the way. Finally, with a deep groan, Dean pulled his cock out free. He gave it a few long strokes, the friction felt so good. And Sammy looked even better, zoned out and desperate for it. Open. Waiting. For him. Dean couldn’t hold on a second longer.

Dean grabbed Sam’s hips and lifted them over his own until he was practically in his lap. They were so close. He could feel every movement Sam made, while he tried to squirm closer to Dean’s hard cock. They were lined up perfectly.

“Alright, Sam, you ready?”

“YES. Dean, I’m ready.”

Dean took a deep breath and pulled Sam toward him, impaling him ever so slowly on his cock, until they were flush against each other and he couldn’t think anymore.

Fuck. Sammy.

Dean groaned loud against the walls of the cellar.

“Damnit Sam- Sammy. Oh god. So tight.”

Dean looked up at Sam’s face again. It was flushed red, but Sam was grinning, smiling like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. Dean rolled his hips into him and felt a stab of pride at watching Sammy’s smile slip to an open mouthed moan of pleasure. He pulled moan after moan out of his brother’s mouth as he began rocking steadily into him. Damn his sounds are so hot.

Sam was breathing out a quiet stream of yes yes Yes YES with every thrust of Dean’s hips. Dean smiled to himself. Well, if he got a yes for that..then-

He reached behind himself to close his fingers around the now cold flask. Bending over Sam to reach his face pressed him in so deep, both of them let out a groan.

“Mm come on, it’s time.”

Sam opened eyes he had shut when Dean pressed into him and flicked his gaze to Dean, to the flask, back to Dean, and back to flask again. He looked like he was about to protest, so Dean changed the angle of his hips just slightly, where he knew Sam wouldn’t be able to resist.

Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head as Dean hit that perfect spot inside him and his hands flew out to either side. Then, very quietly, almost so Dean couldn’t hear, he replied.

“Yes, Dean.”

And Sam left his mouth hung open, waiting.

Dean was flooded with immense relief and red-hot lust at the same time. He dragged his free hand up to land on his brother’s neck and started to pour as much of the potion as he could into his mouth. Then he massaged his neck until he’d been forced to swallow all of it.

Without stopping the movement of his cock inside Sam, he kept this up until the flask was completely drained. Only a drop remained, dribbling from Sam’s lips as he tried to breathe. Dean released the flask and his hand that was holding Sam’s neck.

“There. You did it.”

But Sam looked desperately out at his brother and grabbed the hand that had been around his neck to bring it back to where it belonged. He patted Dean’s hand where he had rested it back on his throat in a silent, but blindingly clear, message.

A rush of heat went straight to Dean’s head and cock and he found his vision went a little hazy from the pressure. Damn, the things he does to me. He’s insane.

Dean closed his hand around Sam’s throat anyway, no longer trying to make him swallow, but instead trapping all his air. He brought his other hand to wrap around Sam’s throbbing cock, leaking a steady flow of precome.

Sam groaned, as much as he could while his airway was being blocked, and arched his back toward Dean. He’s so beautiful like this, Dean thought. Sam’s face wore an expression of absolute bliss and lust. Dean wondered vaguely how many times he’d ever get to see that look on his brother’s face.

“Sammy. Oh, Sammy. Come for me.”

That was all Sam needed to start shaking. His mouth opened in a silent scream or moan or gasp or something, Dean wasn’t sure, and he was coming all over Dean’s hand. It felt like he came forever, thick white stripes coating his palm, and rolling and clenching around Dean’s cock.

Would he?.. Dean wondered and decided to test his theory. He brought his filthy hand up to Sam’s face and covered his mouth with it. Dribbles of come started to mix with the remnants of the potion on Sam’s lips. He loosened the vice grip on Sam’s throat just enough so he could start gasping into his hand.

Sam’s eyes opened briefly, glanced at the hand with a flash of understanding, and closed again. Then his tongue came out and danced over Dean’s palm, licking up as much come as he could reach. No hesitation whatsoever.

Dean’s groan was so low it was almost impossible to hear.

“Fucking hell, Sam. Fuck- I’m coming.”

Dean’s hips gave one last wild thrust into Sam before he pressed in all the way and held there, head hanging down and limbs shuddering. The buildup of pressure that had begun with Sam tied to that damn chair released deep into him.

“Damn.”

That was the most intense orgasm Dean’s had in.. well probably ever had. He looked up to check in on Sam who, for what it was worth, looked much more lucid than he had in awhile.

“Hey. Sam, you back?”

Sam’s voice was breathy and raspy as he coughed and attempted to respond.

“Yeah.. yeah, Dean, I’m back.”

It worked. Thank god. Dean sighed and reached out a tired hand to pat Sam on the chest. He sat back, not wanting to pull out of Sam just yet. He didn’t want to ever be apart from Sam again.

“Good. Welcome back, little brother.”

FIN

#suptober24 #suptober 2024 #Wincest #day 8 witch’s brew #I wrote this at work thank you very much #something about Sam saying yes even thought it will take away the happiness and contentment he felt for one fleeting moment #grrr #they’re killing me #infecting my brain #spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #Wincest fanfic #sam winchester #dean Winchester #kinktober #Wincest smut #me posting

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orqheuss · 1 year ago

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My darling, my sweetheart, I am in your sway

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader FLUFF)

Summary:

Sebastian pushed away from the wooden column, making his way towards the pair of you, before reaching out his hand in your direction and speaking with the most ridiculously strong posh accent he could muster. “May I have this dance?”

You laughed, squeezing Ominis’ hand, letting go and going along with the brunette’s theatrics. You bowed dramatically in his direction, placing your hand delicately in his and adopted the same vernacular that he used.

“Of course, m’lord. It would be an honor.” *** With the Founders Ball announced, you realize two things. Firstly, you have no idea how to ballroom dance, and secondly, you didn't know how you could go to the ball with both of your crushes at once. *** Title is from "Rise to Me" by the Decemberists

Word Count: 8k

AN: I’m moving all of my fics over from Ao3 to make them more accessible! These are my fics.

Have this repost from Ao3 while I finish writing the smut I'm working on :) This one is a personal favorite of mine.

“The Founders Ball,” said Professor Weasley, “Is a grand occasion meant to unite the four houses of Hogwarts under our vivacious founders.”

The Professor paced up and down the large room, glancing every so often to each of the different students lining the walls. Bleachers had been placed around for everyone to sit, each group separated by their house. The heads of the houses sat at the far left of each section, some more pleased about the news than others. In particular, Professor Sharpe looked like he would rather drink a drought of living death than continue to sit and listen to his colleagues speech.

“On Christmas Eve, we will all gather in the great hall for a night of fun, frivolity, and lighthearted dancing. Each head of house will teach you the basic steps of dances like the waltz, the tango, and other forms of ragtime.” Weasley gestured for each of the heads to stand and make their way to the center of the room. “I expect you all to act like proper young lads and ladies in the name of Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Now, please split off into pairs of two and await further instructions from your designated Professor.”

Each eager student from the four houses stood rapidly from their seats, making their way down and stepping around those who were more hesitant to participate. You were one of the few who remained seated, leaning back on your elbows and resting on the bench behind you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go to the ball, the idea of it seemed lovely in all honesty. Who would turn down an opportunity to dress up and get absolutely sloshed with your friends? Of course someone would spike the punch— your money was on Garreth. The problem was that you had only ever heard of two people going together as a couple, and you couldn’t necessarily ask both of your crushes to go with you. You’ve had feelings for the both of them since your untimely admittance to Hogwarts, and as much as you knew that it would be easier to just pick one of them and stick with your decision, you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You cared for them both in vastly different ways, and you needed them both by your side. You thought about what it would be like to go to the ball with them both, see them both dressed up to the nines and feel their hands on your hips as they led you through dance after dance. You already felt hot at the image of them in their pressed three piece suits— their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and their ties undone when they began to sweat from your copious amount of dancing and fun. You could almost taste their lips, leaning down and kissing you breathless, their teeth nipping at your bottom lip and their tongues sliding deliciously against yours after the festivities are over. Rosy pink hues made their way across your cheeks at the thought, and you coughed lightly to clear your now very parched throat before leaning back further in your seat, fighting against the embarrassed expression trying to tweak your lips into a frown. The two boys flanking each side of you were in similar spots; Ominis leaning with his chin in his hands and the bend of his arms atop his knees, a tired expression decorating his face, and Sebastian with his leg crossed over his thigh and his hands resting in his lap, a wayward smirk on his lips and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

The more elated of the two leaned closer to you, stretching his neck slightly towards your ear and murmured, “Five galleons Sharpe trips over his cane.”

You snorted to yourself, turning your head towards him and smirking. “You’re on, Sallow.”

The brunette leaned over towards the other boy now, repeating the bet, and asked his opinion of the odds. “Ominis, are you in?”

The blond sighed heavily, rolling his eyes at the whole rigmarole around him and drawled out of the corner of his mouth, “Ten galleons that he calls the whole thing off and tells us to teach ourselves.”

Sebastian barked a laugh, catching the attention of the few students still milling around the trio, and stretched out his hand towards his companion. “I’ll take those odds.”

Ominis simpered in his direction, grabbing the boy's hand before taking yours and doing the same. The brunette took the other and the three of you shook on it.

“There’s no way he would just abandon his house; he’s too intimidated by Weasley.”

“We’ll see.”

The three of you then turned towards the commotion on the floor, watching with enraptured intrigue as Professor Sharpe was surrounded by a mob of excitable teenage girls and a few of the more flamboyant boys. You could see the crease of his brow from your vantage point and pointed it out to your friends. Sharpe stood stoic in the center of the chaos, his cane resting in front of him with both of his hands crossed at the top, a thoroughly annoyed look adorning his features as the squacks of students got louder in his ears. He loudly tapped the end of his cane on the ground, silencing the masses and drawing the attention of the more meek of the bunch, and regarded them all with contempt.

“I will be returning to my chambers. If you wish to learn about those infernal dances you may ask the other house heads for assistance, or have a friend teach you. I wash my hands of it. You are dismissed.”

Groaning, the Slytherin’s surrounding the pragmatic Professor dragged their feet towards where the other students were already being instructed, a few sticking around long enough to grumble some choice words at his slowly retreating form.

Sebastian sat with an expression similar to eating a lemon, digging into his cloak pocket and muttering to himself while pulling out his coins for the blond. You caught some of his grumbles, things like ��stupid git,” and “blasted Gaunt sixth sense,” flying from his tongue. You did the same, laughing to yourself and shaking your head at the childishness of your brunette friend. Ominis pocketed the money, smirking to himself in a feat of barely concealed smugness.

“Pleasure doing business with you both.”

With a huff, the freckled boy stood from his slouched position, desperately trying to hide the fact that the confidence and cocky energy of his roommate made him want to scramble across their seats and snog him silly, and jumped down to the next rung of bleachers, spinning on his heel and facing his two friends. His mood seemed to do a complete one eighty, mischief swimming in his chocolate eyes yet again and a plan hiding just behind his teeth.

“So what are we to do now? I know I don’t know any of the dances, do either of you?”

You scoffed, your chin pointed towards the ceiling and your limbs stretched in front of you in a lax position. You gestured lazily towards your ensemble, a slightly wrinkled white button down, paired with your house tie and a set of trousers, as well as the general lack of interest in your body language. “Do you really think I’d be trained in ballroom dancing?”

Sebastian made a noise in his throat that seemed to say “fair enough,” before turning to their quiet counterpart. Ominis could feel the both of your eyes on him and he fought against the blush slowly creeping up the back of his neck. He huffed with indignation, resting his chin on his hand in a show of laissez faire attitude.

“I unfortunately do. It was a requirement of my schooling before I came here. All the Gaunt children had to take dance lessons for the plethora of galas we were invited to, especially me. Couldn’t have the blind boy looking blind and embarrassing the family.” Your eyes burned through the back of his head while Sebastian’s burned through the front, meeting in the center of his brain and sparking together like a show of fireworks. The boy could feel his friend's excitement at the prospect of him possibly teaching them shed from their auras in waves of glee. He sighed, “I suppose I could teach you both, but you have to do everything I say exactly. No funny business, got it?”

You quickly sat up, meeting the eyes of the brunette standing opposite of the pair of you before sliding them over to your other friend. Raising two fingers to your forehead, you mock saluted the blond to your left, watching Sebastian do the same out of the corner of your eyes.

“Sir, yes sir.”

Ominis slid his hand over the front of his face, raising the other to do the same and grumbled into his hands.

Something in him told him that he would come to regret this decision.

***

The three of you slid through the doors of the Room of Requirement, leaning out briefly to check for any signs of life in the desolate hallway, before shutting it quietly behind you. You all shucked your bags to the ground, you and Sebastian dropping your cloaks over the pile of supplies while Ominis gently hung his on the coat rack by the door. The school assembly had been after dinner, so by the time your motley crew made it to your secret hideaway the sky was already glittering with constellations and curfew was right around the corner. You made your way to the center of the room where a large ornate rug decorated the floor and plopped yourself down in the center; your gaze drifting upwards towards the large skylight at the center of the domed roof. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, each star shone brilliantly against the stark blackness of space. You traced your finger along one particular cluster of stars that appeared every winter night, The Pleiades. Each brilliant light aligned with a birthmark on your blond companion's cheek, sprinkling across his face like a captivating piece of sheet music— it was your favorite. You could almost trace the marks, matching them to quarter notes and triplets like a beautiful bluesy shuffle. You sighed to yourself, resting your hand across your stomach as the other went behind your head as a makeshift pillow.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.” You fancied, your eyes never leaving the glass dome above.

A cynical voice came from the couch a few feet away, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Oh yes, indubitably.”

You turn your head slightly towards Ominis and cringed slightly, forgetting about his lack of sight. “...Sorry.”

Sebastian jumped into the middle of the rug, haphazardly placing his feet at either side of your hips and facing towards the blond. You quickly dart your hands outward and grasp on to his ankles, holding him still and hopefully preventing him from losing his balance and toppling over on top of you. A blush rouged the tips of your nose and ears as your pupils flicked over his body above, eyes widening slightly at his closeness. He looked lovely from your angle on the ground— maybe him falling wouldn’t be such a travesty.

Shaking the unseemly thoughts from your mind, you flick your eyes once more upwards towards his face, only to see that he was already gazing at you, similar thoughts of how enticing you looked underneath him swimming behind his eyes. The brunette smirked down at you, winking and twiddling his fingers in a humorous wave.

Cheeky bastard.

You averted your eyes, focusing back on the other boy sitting on the couch to your left. Sebastian chuckled at your reaction, before also turning towards Ominis again and crossing his arms, speaking with authority.

“Alright, how are we going to do this?”

Ominis sighed again— his default setting— before lightly slapping his knees and standing up. He began to unbutton the cuffs of his starched shirt, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows and sticking one of his hands in his pocket while pulling out his wand with the other. His wand glowed a faint red with the location charm pulses as he surveyed the room for the optimal dancing space. You glanced around the room yourself, wincing minutely at the mess strewn around every surface and some parts of the floor. There really was no good spot currently, leaving you few options for where you could practice. Ominis seemed to come to the same conclusion, his brows furrowing in thought and pondering where you all could go. They could always go to the Undercroft, he supposed, but with the winter freeze just outside he was sure that the stone walls and floor would be terribly cold, and there wasn’t a fireplace in the large space.

A lightbulb flickered on in your mind, an idea forming along with the delighted sound leaving your throat. Both boys turned to you in intrigue, eyebrows raised in surprise at your small shout and taking in the grin stretching across your face.

“There’s some flat ground in Atlas’ vivarium, we could use that!”

Sebastian blinked at you, his face twisting into an incredulous smile. “Your thunderbird, Atlas?”

You nodded ecstatically, grabbing both boys by the hand and pulling them in the direction of your vivariums. Ominis stuttered loudly in protest, digging his heels into the hardwood floor and pulling at your arm. The idea of seeing, or in his case sensing, a thunderbird was one thing, but meeting one? That was a whole other thing entirely. He could already hear the loud cracks of thunder in the distance, causing the nervous frown on his face to deepen. Laughing at the blond’s hesitation, you dragged them through the different areas of the large room, smells from your potion station filled your nose and the gentle ticks of your assorted magical instruments were like music to your ears. Sebastian went along for the ride, allowing you to pull him along and his steps animated at the prospect of seeing the gorgeous bird in action. Honestly, he’d let you drag him anywhere if you never let go of his hand. Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the lush fields of flowers just beyond the intricately carved archway of the enclosure and cast a glow across your face, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. The freckled boy froze, eyes softening as they flitted around your visage in enraptured awe. Your smile was his favorite thing about you— a radiant bonfire under a softened night sky. Every time you looked at him with that sweet, sanguine smile, it was like his heart was suddenly being warmed by a homey hearth— like everything wrong in his life would right itself with just a simple grin. He quickly looked away from your profile, color covering his cheeks as he reached his hand behind his head, rubbing at his neck in embarrassment.

The smell of the storm brewing across the field circled around you like a pleasant hug, relaxing all the tightness in your body and giving way to the feeling of bliss. You loved the smell, and the sound, of storms; that was why this was your favorite vivarium to escape to. It was just Atlas behind the door, so you kept him company whenever you could, having not found him a mate yet in your “travels,” or as one would normally call it, your pillaging of poacher camps. Thunderbirds were incredibly rare in these parts, so the fact that you had found him locked away meant that he had traveled a great distance. His wing had been clipped slightly, the feathers bunched up together around a nasty scar stretching from his coracoid to his metacarpus, and you had felt a red hot anger seep through your veins like an infection at the pain emitting from the poor, beautiful bird. That was the most ruthless you had ever been with a group of the pillaging bastards, and you didn’t regret it in the slightest. You and Atlas had grown exponentially closer since that day, and you loved him the most out of any of your beasts— not that you’d tell any of them that.

Ominis leaned against the wall next to the vivarium entrance, panting slightly in exertion, and sent a withered glare in what he assumed was your direction. Giggling at his miffed expression, you squeezed his hand and walked into the dimension before you. The blond’s scathing look pittered away to an enamored, but small, smile; his eyes softening to two gentle bubbling blue brooks instead of the angered sea during a storm they once were. He loved your laugh, it was truly his favorite sound. You had the poor boy wrapped around your finger with that simple, joyful noise.

The pseudo-sun of the enclosure warmed the bones of the three students, shaking the freezing cold of the winter from their shoulders and wrapping them in a warm blanket. You led them to the grassy knoll at the top of the hill, a skip in your step at the sudden happiness that flooded your system at the feeling of the beautiful nature around you and the warmth of your companions hands in yours. Atlas flew high above your heads, swirling his body around in circles like he was a ring around the sun itself, and released a great caw into the air in joy at seeing his favorite human. You waved at the effervescent creature, watching him as he flew farther into the never ending sky, disappearing out of sight and taking the storm clouds above with him. You would bring both of the boys back one day to properly meet him, but today was about dance lessons.

You finally stopped at the very top of the hill, reluctantly releasing both Slytherin’s from your grasp and turning to face the trained dancer of the two. You bit your lip around the smile starting to form, clasping your hands in front of you in an absolute tizzy of anxious, tumultuous happiness. Ominis turned to face the both of his friends, his hands tucking themselves away in his pockets once again as he pondered their next move.

“Alright, this will work for now. Who would like to go first?”

Sebastian and you stood entranced by the boy before you. The sun shone off of his hair in brilliant locks of golden silk, glittering in the soft summer breeze that floated around the vivarium space. Color still danced on his cheeks, giving him a lovely youthful glow that stood out against his normally porcelain skin tone and highlighted the star-like dots decorating his face. The luminous sun cascaded down on his form, catching his opalescent eyes just right and making them look like beautiful pools of dew. He looked strong with his rolled up sleeves; not muscular, but confident, strapping, sturdy, like he was in his absolute element. In that moment, Ominis Gaunt was the picture of elegance and grace, something extraordinarily serendipitous. You couldn’t help but look at him— take him in in all of his glorious verisimilitude.

The blond cleared his throat, slight agitation lacing his tone. “I can feel you both staring at me. Are you going to putter about like muppets and waste valuable time, or are you going to learn these dances? As you both know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.”

The both of you were shocked out of your revelry at his voice, color flooding both of your cheeks at your obvious admiration. Sebastian shook off the embarrassment first, leaning towards you and whispering in your ear before confidently stepping towards the lithe boy.

“I do quite like it when he’s rude.”

You stifle your laughter behind your hand, watching the both of your boys bow to each other and get into the proper position. Ominis raised his hands into the air, arms draped elegantly like he was about to take flight, and directed Sebastian to do the same.

“Now, put one hand on my shoulder and place the other in mine.”

The brunette furrowed his brows. “What if I wanted to lead?”

“I just assumed with your proclivity to strong, powerful friends, you’d lean more towards submitting rather than domineering.” The blond quipped with a smirk.

Sebastian sputtered with bashfulness, a dark rouge coloring him from the tips of his ears to the ends of his collarbones. Ominis could feel the heat radiating off of his dance partner like a fireplace in winter. He chuckled at his obvious flustered state— the boy could surely dish it out, but he couldn’t take it in return.

“Alright, I will teach you how to lead. Place your hand on my waist.”

Gathering his nerve once again, Sebastian simpered in return, “My my, Ominis. How very crass of you; if you wanted my hands on you all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Sallow, and do as I say.”

“Yes, sir.”

You watched the brunette do as he was told, placing his hand on the small of the blond’s waist and grasping his hand in his before pulling him closer until they were chest to chest. Ominis cleared his throat bashfully, ignoring the warmth flooding his body from the furnace of a man against him, and began directing him through the movements of a basic waltz. Birds tittered from the trees just beyond the hill, filling the air with a natural melody. You smiled as you watched them both, fumbling like a mother doe teaching their newborn fawn how to walk for the first time. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Sebastian knew what he was doing and was just acting like he didn’t. One moment he would perform a perfect spin just for him to step on Ominis’ foot as hard as possible the next. You couldn’t blame him, in all honesty— you were just as eager to be that close to the blond you both harbored feelings for.

The Gaunt boy couldn’t help but get distracted at the feeling of being in Sebastian’s arms— his breath brushing against his lips and cheeks, his chest pressed deliciously against his, their hearts beating in tandem as they moved from step to step. There was something about his brunette companion that sent his mind into a tizzy, like a spare lacewing fly crawled through his ear and was buzzing around in his skull, smacking against his limbic system and setting his veins aflame with affection. He kept the pair of them in a small four step square, not quite used to the distance around them with his wand tucked securely in his pocket. Sebastian was oddly adept at the waltz, only making small mistakes here and there. If Ominis didn’t know better, he would say that the brunette took him up on his offer just because he wanted to be closer to him. What a preposterous thought, he mused to himself. There was no way his friend returned his feelings.

All thoughts were unanimously wiped from his mind at that moment when his dance partner decided that it was the perfect time to dip him.

Ominis felt sickeningly weightless, his knee bent to keep his stability while the other was thrown haphazardly into the air. He could feel Sebastian’s knee at his outer bicep, his face even closer than before. Hot, minty breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks and blew against his long eyelashes, causing his unseeing eyes to flutter around with anxious, flustered agony. The hand at his waist somehow felt even hotter than before, like it was the sun itself and he was burning. The brunette chuckled, leaning impossibly closer and brushed his lips against the conch of the blond’s ear.

“Did I sweep you off your feet, Professor?”

Ominis turned a color similar to a cherry tomato, his words stuttering out of his throat like a broken gramophone. “R-right. You did very well, Sebastian.” He cleared his throat, willing his breathing and heartbeat to get back under control. “Now, will you please release me?”

Sebastian smiled against the blond’s ear, sending a shiver up the other boy’s spine, before teasingly whispering once more. “As you wish.”

The brunette then let go, dropping his companion to the floor with a ceremonious thump.

You giggled from the sidelines at their antics, highly amused by their obvious affection for each other but also lack of self awareness to express it, nay, realize it. You began to feel anxious, very much aware of the fact that both of the people you were heavily crushing on had dancing experience and talent while you had none. You feared making a fool of yourself in front of them. There was something different about the setting of a ball that made your heart hurt and your head spin at the thought of embarrassing yourself— vastly different than the multiple times they had seen and heard you mess up spells in the Undercroft. The first time you had tried bombarda, you had singed off your eyebrows much like they both did when first casting confringo. Sebastian didn’t let you live it down for weeks, even after the hair had entirely grown back and you could stop drawing them in with pencil. You really didn’t want to give them more ammunition against you, and you also wanted the night to be special.

Ominis stood up from the earthy ground, brushing the orange clay dust off of his shoulders and back while turning a heated glare to his giggling friends.

“Yes, very funny, Sebastian. Thank you for that.”

Sebastian seceded, walking over and helping the blond brush the rest of the dust and small pebbles from his body and hair. He grasped him by the shoulders, slightly shaking him once before releasing and moving to stand next to you once again.

“Well, you did ask me to let you go.”

With a scoff, Ominis turns to face you and raises his hand in your direction, a small amused smile dancing on his lips— his eyes soft like the clouds in the sky, a brilliant white against baby's breath blue. Your breathing stutters in your chest.

“Alright, it's your turn.” As if sensing your nervousness, he moves to reassure you, his eyebrows creasing in concern. “I promise I won’t drop you like that buffoon did.”

You were stuck in place, your feet refusing to move from the timidness rocking through your body. Sebastian turned to look at you, an eyebrow raised in questioning until he saw the pretty rose hue crossing over the bridge of your nose and speckling across your cheeks. You were entirely enamored by the blond boy in front of you. He laughed, placing a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you closer to the outstretched hand of his friend.

Gingerly, you grasp Ominis’ hand in yours and let him lead you towards the middle of the patch of land. He frets for a moment, moving your hands to the correct positions and making sure you’re comfortable with the proper stance before pausing and preparing to go through the motions again. The sweet breeze blew through the pasture again, catching on your hair and clothes and filling the blind boy’s nose with the most lovely scent he had grown attached to since you’d joined their little motley crew— bergamot, vanilla, and something unidentifiable but so uniquely you. He was spellbound for a moment, eyes locked on yours and breath catching his throat. Much like with Sebastian, the feeling of you in his arms was something he never wanted to give up. While the brunette felt like a burning pyre on a chilly winter night: exciting, nostalgic, and warm to the point of burning, you were a candle on his bedside with a nice cup of tea and a good book: comforting, tranquil, and homey. He loved how the both of you felt against him, how you both made him feel in his very soul. How he lived without the both of you before coming to Hogwarts, he had absolutely no idea.

You stiffened slightly under Ominis’ heavy stare, his milky irises swirling with something unidentifiable but so warm all the same. You felt trapped where you were, unable to move— not wanting to move from his heated gaze, but feeling quite bashful with him looking at you like that. Something had just happened in that brilliant mind of his, and who were you to not make a joke out of a suddenly serious moment?

Your smug voice broke him out of his stupor, a laugh dancing dangerously at the precipice of your lips. “Please stop staring at me, you’re making me nervous.”

He huffed, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Need I remind you that I’m blind, my dear?”

The term of endearment stopped you in your tracks, all feelings of humor completely gone and replaced with scatterbrained lightheadedness. Even Ominis seemed shocked at the words that came from his mouth, his chin shyly dipping down towards his chest and color returning to the tips of his ears and nose. My, what a lovely color that was. If it was any other time you’d poke fun at the blond boy, push him further into embarrassment just to see more of that beautiful hue cross over his features, but, the intimacy of your stance was not lost to you. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, singing along to his wonderful tune— my-dear, my-dear, my-dear. Never had two words struck so deeply before.

You cleared your throat, stopping him from speaking the clear apology that was dancing on his tongue. “Well, lead the way, my dear.”

A loud, boisterous voice broke the both of you out of your haze, slightly grating in your ears. “Oh come on, you two! Who are you, Mr and Mrs. Gaunt? Stand a little closer!” Sebastian jeered from the sidelines, a wayward smile stretching across his cheeks.

You threw your head back with laughter, missing the way Ominis’ gaze melted at the sound, looking at you like you put all of the stars in the sky, and kicked at the brunette just out of reach, sending rusted orange dust in his direction and staining his pristine white shirt. He shouted indignantly, his own laughter bubbling just under the surface as he tossed a small rock in your direction, watching it bounce harmlessly against your calf. Relenting, you stepped closer to the blond, just barely pressing your chest to his, hoping he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating at that very moment. Little did you know, he was hoping the very same thing.

Still smiling softly, Ominis began to teach you the basics like he did with Sebastian. He twirled you around in a circle, listening to your startled giggles and hushed heavy breathing like it was his favorite concerto. Each step forward from him sent one back from you, his left foot pushing against your right as you waltzed in a square. You fought to keep your eyes on your shoes, making sure that you weren’t stepping on his toes while also listening to his direction.

Ominis tisked lightly, his tongue tapping against the roof of his mouth thrice like a mother scolding a child. “Keep your eyes on me, not on your feet. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

You gulped, looking back up and meeting his unseeing gaze. He pulled you closer to him, now pressing your body fully against his, before sliding one of his legs between yours and moving his hand to rest open across the small of your back.

“I’m going to dip you now. Hold on to my shoulders, if you would, please.”

You did as you were told, letting him spin you slightly to the side and dip you towards the ground. The quick movement sent a rush to your head, everything around you blinking out and only your blond boy’s face shining in the darkness. All you could stare into were his eyes, now shielded from the harsh light above but still glowing with just as much starlight. It looked like whole constellations were trapped there. You could see Draco wrap around his pupils, Cassiopeia stream across his cornea, Orion’s Belt glitter in his irises, and finally Polaris, the bright north star, was there to guide you home. There was a French word for those eyes— astre: something not from this world, something celestial, something born of stars. You couldn’t breathe at how close his face was, one small move and you could press your lips against his and finally claim him as your own. For a moment, it looked like Ominis wanted just the same as you, his warm breath fanning across your lips as he moved just slightly closer before reconsidering and helping you back up to your feet.

Sebastian cleared his throat to your left, leaning against the post that Atlas enjoyed resting on. He had a grin on his face, his eyes looking like pools of melted amber under the afternoon sun. He couldn’t remember the last time his heart felt as full as it did watching the both of you dance together. He didn’t feel any jealousy, any anger at the fact you both obviously had feelings for the other. He was just happy to be with you both— if both his best friends fell in love he’d consider it a blessing. Besides, he could take the absolute piss out of you both if you started dating, and how could he possibly turn down a rousing bit of debauchery?

“Enjoying yourselves, are we?” He simpered.

“Of course, m’lord. It would be an honor.”

With that, Sebastian squeezed your hand and you were off. He swung you around like a madman, your feet grazing the ground and sending clouds of dust around the large bit of land. Your laughter rang out like church bells, sweeping into the summer air and being blown away like the fluff on a dandelion. You opened your eyes to watch the beautiful brunette in your arms, seeing his large toothy grin just inches from yours and counting the freckles that littered his closed eyelids. If Ominis was the stars, Sebastian was the earth— strong, resolute, constant, yet always surprising you with new and titillating things. You could see the life-giving dirt in the color of his hair, see maps criss-crossing his face in his freckles, each one standing for a different landmark, mountain, coast, anything that could be jotted down by a cartographer. You wanted to follow along those freckles and travel wherever they led until there was nothing more there— no more sights to see. In his veins you saw the rings of a tree, each line and circle telling story after story of their life, their adventures on this planet you call home. He opened his eyes and looked down at you and oh. You could see whole worlds in those eyes. It was like time froze inside of them, like each tiny earth-like dot in his irises were still and asleep until the day came where he was dead and gone. Little flecks of sage sprinkled around his pupils like mounds of four leaf-clovers at the edge of a babbling brook. You couldn’t help but stare.

In your distraction, you didn’t notice the wing beats of Atlas returning to your little corner. Lightning streaked across the sky, casting a soft purple and blue glow on the fields of flowers swaying in the wind around you. Ominis lifted his head from where it rested in his hand, a love-struck smile on his face at the sound of not only your joy, but also Sebastian’s, and sniffed at the air. The smell of petrichor was heavy with the feeling of a storm brewing once again. He turned his eyes to the sky, calling out to his two friends across the square from him.

“Hey guys—”

Still in your little world, you didn’t hear the blond boy to your right. Catching your gaze, Sebastian began to lean closer towards you. For a moment you thought he was moving in for a kiss, but his lips brushed against the skin of your cheek and made its way to your ear. He held you closer to his body as he whispered to you, his lips tantalizingly close to your neck.

“I know how you feel about him.”

Your breath stilled in your throat, nervous confusion filling your voice. “Who?”

He breathed a laugh, the soft brush of his sigh raising the hairs on your skin to attention. “Ominis, of course. I know how you feel about him. I think you should go for it, it’s obvious he feels the same.”

You protested weakly, Ominis’ voice calling out at the same time.

“Sebastian, I—”

“Guys, I think it’s going to rain—”

Thunder loudly rumbled above, and a torrential downpour of water fell from the sky.

You screamed in alarm, your clothes suddenly becoming drenched and sticking to your skin. You looked up towards the sky, watching the large droplets of rain fall around you and tap against your face with little, lovely kisses. The boys around you reacted similarly, Ominis quickly standing from the ground and reaching for his wand, shivering lightly around the sudden cold, while Sebastian took a step back from you in shock, his hair plastering itself to his face and sending drops of water into his eyelashes and down his cheeks. A laugh startled them, drawing their attention back to their friend. You stood in the center of the square, arms raised at your sides, elbows bent with hands stretched out to collect the raindrops. You were laughing with delight, joy bursting from your heart at the sudden storm brewing around you. You looked truly at peace in that moment, surrounded by your friends in a wonderful little rainstorm.

The two Slytherin’s took in the sight before them, the sound of your elated giggles and the sheer happiness that radiated from your being, and both smiled, beginning to laugh themselves.

Hearing their own chuckles, you quickly shuffled over to your friends and grabbed their hands, pulling them into the center with you once again. The three of you looked up at the sky, feeling the droplets of water splatter against your faces and refreshing your skin with energy. You began to spin the three of you in a circle, all of your hands connected like a ring of daisies tied together into a crown. Laughter filled the vivarium, three voices ringing out together in blissful mirth. You all danced together in the rain, pompously bowing and curtsying to each other in humor before clasping hands and galloping along in a lighthearted two step. Your heart filled with merriment at the sound of your boys having fun. You so rarely got to act like kids these days, so many pressures pressing down on your shoulders putting a damper on basically everything you enjoyed. At that very second, you all were simply students enjoying their time in the rain. No sick sisters, no ancient magic, no abusive families, just a little bit of rain and a little bit more fun.

In that moment, you were a little bit in love with the both of them.

You break apart from your dance partner, Ominis, you deducted from the sound of his light giggles, and looked back up towards the falling rain, running your hands through your hair and smoothing it away from your face. You felt a surge of courage run through your body, completely content in the storm and filled with a youthful delight. Tilting your chin back down towards your boys, your lovely, lovely boys, you took both of their hands into yours once again and spoke the words you’d been holding in for so long.

“I think I love you. The both of you.”

The two boys stilled at your words, heads whipping in your direction with incredulous expressions decorating their faces. You all stood in silence for a moment, the both of them processing your words while you worried at your lip with your teeth. Ominis was the first to speak, a loud shout leaving his throat in a very unlike-him fashion.

“WHAT?”

Sebastian nodded his head, coming back to his body after it felt like his whole being was catapulted into space. “Yeah, what?!”

You laughed at their disbelieving countenances, stepping closer and raising their hands to your chest, your thumb rubbing across their knuckles gently and your eyes clouded with amorous love.

“I said, I love the both of you. I have for some time, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. After today, I knew that I needed to say it before it was too late— before I couldn’t anymore. You both have bewitched me, body and soul. You fill my mind at every moment of the day: at breakfast, in History of Magic, when I’m studying in the library, all the way until I fall asleep, and even then you’re in my dreams.”

Your boys continued to stare at you, mouths opening and closing like a fish without water.

“I thought you liked him!” They both shouted in unison, the hands not connected to yours raising and pointing at the other boy. You laughed again, affection flooding your whole body.

“You both have been so kind to me, my absolute best friends since day one. I came to this school with no one besides Professor Fig, no one my age to talk to about how alone I felt— new to the world of an ancient magic that wished to swallow me whole. Ever since that first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts I have been completely, and totally enamored with the both of you. In this battlefield of a school, your presence is my Versailles. I would follow you both to the ends of the earth and then jump if you were there to catch my fall.”

You closed your eyes, a heavy breath inhaling through your mouth and sighing out into the still air, the noise being swallowed by the pitter-patter of the steady rain. “Here I am, presenting you with my heart like the fool that I am, and asking you both if you feel the same. Nothing has to change if you don’t, I completely understand that this was very sudden—”

In a sudden burst of movement, Ominis cut off your grand speech with a kiss. It wasn’t good or coordinated in any sense, more teeth than lips, but it was yours . You quickly corrected the boy, slotting your lips against his and raising your arms to drape around his shoulders while his drifted to your waist. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this very moment since he was born— maybe he had been. Maybe you were the other half, or in this case the one third, of his soul that he had been searching for. You both separated, air rushing into your burning lungs from the near suffocating kiss. Taking the open chance, Sebastian took your face into his hands and turned you towards him, pressing his lips to yours after all these years of pining. His kiss was different than Ominis’, a bit more skilled, more controlled. He was gentle in his movements, cradling your face and stroking your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. You melted into it, raising your hands from where they had rested, raised at your sides after your initial shock, and ran them through his hair, deepening the kiss and pouring your love into every movement you made.

Their kisses tasted like home— like a finally.

You separated from the brunette, heaving breaths into your lungs yet again as you looked to your two loves. They both looked thoroughly flustered, the rain splashing against their ruby cheeks and rolling down towards their bruised, kissed lips. You smiled at the sight.

Sebastian cleared his throat, wringing his hands in front of him with nerves. “I don’t think I can put it as eloquently as you did.” A chuckle left his tight throat. “I was so confused by how I felt at first. I had been in love with Ominis since second year when he first asked to ‘see’ what I looked like, but then you came in our fifth year and suddenly everything was one big jumble. How could I love the both of you? How could that work? I felt—”

“So selfish!” Ominis finished for him, his eyebrows furrowing at how stupid he had been. “I felt so bloody selfish for wanting the both of you to be mine. It’s no secret that my family is not a caring one. I hadn’t felt true, unencumbered love until I met the both of you. I have wanted you both more than I’ve wanted anything else, and it felt dangerous— forbidden, absolutely, abhorrently dotty.”

Sebastian took the blond’s hand, pulling him closer until he could wrap his arm around his waist. They both leaned closer to each other, breaths mingling in the space between them, and finally pressed their lips together after over half a century of waiting.

Ominis separated from the brunette after a long, much needed moment, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose in fondness before speaking once again, a laugh dangling on each of his words.

“How foolish the three of us have been.”

The relief was palpable around the three of you, laughter filling the air once more as you all took in everything that had just occurred. You took both of their hands in yours once again, pulling them out of the now very muddy square and towards the soft grass of the hill nearby. Your trio sat down, the sweet smell of the earth during a rainstorm permeating your senses and washing you with comfort as you leaned back and watched the storm clouds roll across the sky above. The boys did the same, one on either side of you, their hands still clasped in yours. You breathed a soft sigh, truly content for the first time in a very long time.

“Will you both go to the Founders Ball with me?”

Sebastian laughed to your left, his chest rumbling and sending vibrations down your arm. “I’d have to think about it. I was planning on asking Professor Garlick.”

You smacked him on the chest, launching more laughter from his throat as he rolled away from your sudden onslaught of violence before grabbing your hand again and encircling your fingers.

“Kidding, of course. Yes, I will go with you.”

On your right, Ominis raised your conjoined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist before letting your bundle of limbs drop to his chest, eyes closed in pure unfiltered bliss.

“I thought that was already the plan, to be honest. There was absolutely no way I was going with anyone else, that’s for sure.”

You sighed again, closing your eyes and letting the sweet infinity of their love surround you.

“Good, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

***

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queer-dancing-fandom-nerd · 18 days ago

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queerplatonic Samwena agenda post

for @wigglebox's Suptober 24 remixed day 23: fever

PREVIEW BELOW

“Rowena?” Sam questioned his ringing phone.

For the past few months, since they connected over their pasts with Lucifer, he and the Witch had a shared understanding. In exchange for the book of the damned, Rowena provided magical assistance whenever they needed, as well as began teaching Sam some of the fundamentals of witch-craft. Quick study he was though, Rowena took it upon herself to expand his tutelage and take him in as her protégé. And while they got along well and have come to care for each other deeply, spending time together just for the sake of one another’s company, a phone call out of the blue like this could not be a good sign.

“You okay?” He asked after picking up her call.

“Why wouldn’t I be, Samuel?” She spoke with her usual bravado, but her voice was weak and shaky.

“You’re a better liar than that.” Sam shook his head with a half smile on his face, but one that was wavering with concern.

“Was I really that unconvincing?” Rowena asked in a fake-hurt tone.

“I just know you, Ro.”

Silence.

“You’re the one who called, just talk to me, okay?” Sam pleaded, forcing himself to be patient with her. Like himself, like everyone in his life, Rowena was absolutely horrible at asking others for help. But she did make the call, so that had to count for something.

“I’m sick…” she finally admitted.

“Wait- what? I thought you couldn’t get sick? You’re over three hundred years old and using magic to keep you alive, shouldn’t that take care of little things like influenza?”

“Oh Samuel,” Rowena laughed before it turned into a hacking cough.

“Ro,” Sam breathed involuntarily.

#supernatural #spn #suptober24 #suptober 2024 #spn fanfic #sam winchester #rowena macleod #samwena #but make it queerplatonic #queerplatonic samwena

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shallowseeker · 1 month ago

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Re: the latest string of anons, I want to capture this thought before it flees, but it's not wholly formed yet. I'll try to tread carefully, and with gentleness.

Firstly, I want to invite you to grab onto this line from The Rupture:

CAS: "You used to give me the benefit of the doubt. Now, you can barely look at me."

You can take this lovely line and apply it as a challenge to the entirety of season 15, I think.

The thing with season 15 is that it challenges Dean in a way he hasn't quite been before: it's a full-on, nihilistic, Michael-coded existential crisis.

Cas has had psychological breakdowns like this on multiple occasions. So has Sam.

Throughout the series, Dean is wrong a lot, but this time, he's wrong about more things than usual, even when he's (like Cas with Raphael, and like Sam with many villains) still "a little bit right."

Everyone's a little bit wrong, a little bit right, and that's the beauty of it.

But the consequences are unfairly heavier than usual, and that chafes for Dean.

It chafes for his fans, too.

///

In season 15, at first Dean can't even say Jack's name. He sidesteps it, using coded communication, like his reference to "Bel" in 15x09 The Trap. (That's about Jack, y'all. If you tuly think he's talking about Bel in that scene, then you haven't been paying attention to Dean's character's values OR his communication style.)

I think at a lot of its core, Season 15 is asking you what happens when you're not spoon-fed a character's reactions. Do you look at their history and take the least charitable assumption, or do you work from what you know of that character's loves/morals/values and root for them to try and work through it?

Throughout the series, we see Dean cry and apologize more than most characters. For example, we are explicitly shown Dean's regret (on-screen!) for beating Cas in season 10, and so we know he feels guilty. On the flipside, we are NOT explicitly shown Cas's regrets for his beating on Dean in either seasons 5 or season 8.

But we give Cas the benefit of the doubt.

Why?

Well, truthfully, it's because Cas is a character that commands our respect, and this authority/respect extends to giving him dignity in a way some other characters aren't afforded. But mostly, it's because we trust in what we know of Cas. Again, it's those loves/morals/values that inform how we parse Cas's mistakes.

///

So, back to season 15. What are we going to do here?

Sam chooses grace. Will the audience choose it, too?

Crucially, Sam is a character who has had nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown. He sees what is happening with Dean, he understands Chuck's pressures, and he approaches Dean with (imperfect) grace.

So does Cas, for that matter, which makes a great deal of sense here. Cas is the character who has undergone the most severe existential crises regarding Chuck and Heaven. "Getting out of the game doesn't change the game," Cas says. He's grown tremendous, somewhat terrifying resilience as far as this is concerned.

But anyway. Dean's family sees that he's struggling and tries to help him through this because they too have gone through so many complicated meltdowns.

///

I think season 15 is tough, too, because it challenges you not to be spoon-fed all of Dean's grief and reactions.

Think back to Dean breaking down in the forest clearing after Mary died. Do you REALLY think there was none of that for Jack--for Rowena--for Jack's body being eradicated and ruining the hope of getting him back--for Cas leaving--for Amara--for the Jack rib-bomb?

I think to say yes would be dishonest. Personally, I think there's a well-argued case that Dean grieves almost everyone.

///

Season 15 is also tough because it invites to look upon some of Sam's worst moments (*cough* season 8) with renewed grace.

It even challenges you to frame the villains' struggles (John, Lucifer, and whoever the Hell else) in a stronger shade of gray.

///

Anon, I hope you find this soothing somewhat. :-)

Basically, the TLDR; is that we give our loved ones the benefit of the doubt because we've grown to know and trust their hearts over time, even when they're in the wrong.

-love from shal

#meditations on the asks #asks #aside/// i think this works for knowing your family too #like in season 8 sam has professed to wanting a future #so when sam comes in with the suicidal talk... dean knows that it's the *illness* talking and he recognizes that as an extenuating factor #ramble ramble ramble #euthanasia and sacrifices are not always a sign of heroism or autonomy... sometimes they're symptoms of illness or depression #and recognizing that in a world where you're pressured and/or rewarded for being a hero is rough #dean was in some sense *rewarded* for his willingness to become a bomb sacrifice. he got defused and then was gifted a resurrected mary #that's gotta fuck a guy up????#and one more thing #the thing that makes sam's fuck-ups really good is that he's ALWAYS a little bit right #sam's a little bit right about crowley even when crowley has regained some humanity FTR #we are *expressly shown crowley executing a group of queer suburbanites in season 11 for no other reason than to make a hurried phone call #and dean is also a little bit right about crowley's humanity - crowley doesn't free lucifer until after gavin is killed #gavin is the metaphor for crowley's humanity in some ways #and sam's even a little bit right about benny in the same way that dean doesn't entirely see benny for the complex guy benny truly is #in s10 dean thinks real benny would never encourage him to suicide when we've been *expressly shown benny shunning the corrupted andrea

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cogmin213 · 1 year ago

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The Immortal have a guardian spirit chapters that i love so much

5 : " I will protect you even if I die " - Cruel to Raven

10 : " If you dont feel confident or feel worthless, think of me who loves you the most " - Cruel to Raven

11 : " even if you destroy the world i wont hate you " - Cruel to Raven

12 : Raven is stronger than Guardian Spirit + coughing blood

17 : [ Guardian spirit can't recognize this marriage! ]

18 : "how much do you think my face is? "

19 : " if we break up, you'll forget everything "

21 : " will they give me money, If I go there myself? That's a lot of money" said by the wanted man name Raven

23 : " I love you captain! " Eckart Lofty to Raven

27 : Live and Altair plans to kidnapping Raven

31 : " My little star " + Altair calling Raven Father

32 : " 🌟 my beautiful face 🌟 " - Raven

36: Hwan brands on Raven's tongue + "which ankle should I break?" - Altair

42 : " come here son "

44: " your grandfather needs to learn to cook again" - said by Raven who doesnt know how to cook

47 : Guardian spirit spamming Raven + Rowena

48 : Altair's diary and he said he harrassed Rowena when they're babies

50 : Rowena and Altair cute sibling quarrel

51 : " Teacher please teach me to dance " said by Rowena who is a president of Fighter Association who mingles with high class people daily

52 : siblings emergency meeting about Rowena problematic behaviour

56 : Eduardo and Stave being rivals to lover

57 : "you gave birth to me"

58 : "me? I never been pregnant?" + " why are you not sleeping? You won't grow taller " Raven (172cm) to Altair (188cm)

59 : " My hyung is my everything "

61 : Live slapping Rowena at the back of her head + DJ Hwan

64 : " I'm a bit of beauty "

66 : Guardian spirit kiss Raven's forehead

68 : Live call Altair hyungnim

71 : Guardian Spirit judging the disciples choice of clothes

72 : Nobles ridicule Raven and disciples appeared

76 : [ Guardian Spirit says marriage is a turn of life event that can lead to either bliss or abyss. If you're unsure, its not a bad idea to live alone for the rest of your life ] + Dan to Live "how did you live like this?"

83 : "the person you will reap next is Live"

84 : " hyung can I see your face? I want to see your face " Raven smiled when he saw his face

85 : nom nom Hwan face

88 : Altair and Live cute sibling moment

89 : I give all my luck for meeting guardian spirit and you

95 : Altair tears

96 : Deceiver looting herbs from Elf King

98 : intkot book acquired

100 : Raven green eyes is crying while reading intkot. The green eyes belongs to Cruel. Cruel is the one who's crying + uncensored name "Deon" + Raven reaction to reading intkot

101 : burning intkot book + Demon King and intkot!Deon love child is canon

#intkot #deon hardt #deon hart #the immortal have a guardian spirit #Raven #Cruel Hart #im not that kind of talent #TIGS

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 month ago

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Dark Dynasty: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Rowena and Charlie work tirelessly to decode Nadia's codex to get the cure for the Mark. Meanwhile, you've stopped looking for your kids because you have a new agenda. Sam and Dean can't decode the book without Charlie. Kill their nerd kills all chance of getting that cure.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

Sam and Dean still have a case to do which involves a killer who jumped three stories out a window, leaving behind a victim with the eyes cut out. The office manager allowed Sam and Dean to come in and look around once he saw their FBI badges.

"Police told me no one was allowed in. That didn't mean the FBI, right?"

"The janitor came in right after the killing?"

"Yeah, he heard screaming. The janitor saw a man jump out the window and run down the alley."

"Running? After falling three stories?

"That's what he said."

"Is there security footage?"

"Yeah, sure. Only one of them caught any action out in the alley. That's the guy who rented the office."

The manager shows Sam and Dean the footage of the man landing on his feet like fucking Superman.

"That's pretty slick for a three-story drop."

"Wait a second. Can you play it again?" Sam asks. The manager plays it again until Sam directs him to stop. "Zoom in on his wrist." He does. There is a tattoo that looks just like the one Jacob had. "It's the same ink as the Stynes."

"How long was he renting here?" Dean asks.

"Just a month. I only saw him for a day or so."

"Alright, if you remember anything else, give us a call."

Dean hands over his car before both of them leave. He thinks about Rowena and Charlie and hopes that either of them is getting something done. Charlie is working hard on her iPad while Rowena is sitting at her table tossing chicken bones onto it. Cas is out getting something to munch on so it's just the two women alone.

"Damn it," Charlie sighs.

"That miraculous machine of yours hasn't solved everything by now?" Rowena fake coughs. "Overrated, I'd say."

"I'm using the computer to find some pattern in the book's coding or any synchronicity with the symbols in Nadya's codex."

"I'm more old-school. I read the signs nature shows me, the forces that ruled before there was man."

"Wow. Why didn't I think of that?" Charlie says sarcastically.

Cas enters carrying a white plastic bag with snacks inside.

"Okay, it sounds like blood sugar is dipping in here. I got snacks. When I was human, I grew very fond of these pork rinds."

"What do you know about the chick who wrote The Book of the Damned?" Charlie asks Rowena.

"Agnes was a hermit nun and as mad as a hatter. She made it her business to undo curses like the one that caused the Mark of Cain. As in any struggle between good and evil, balance is required. To cure one curse, Agnes had to know how to inflict another. They live side-by-side in the magic world. One cannot be without the other."

"Sure, sure. Like, uh, a binary system. So, I got to think like a hermit nun," Charlie nods.

"Did I mention they burned her alive?"

"They?"

"A cornucopia of curses and satanic visions did not go unnoticed by the church hierarchy. These men would not abide a rogue nun."

"Poor Agnes. Ahead of her time."

"Much like you and I," Rowena shrugs.

Charlie is shocked Rowena would say something like that and Cas walks away to put the snacks somewhere.

"I actually don't see our similarities all that much."

"Because you're young and good and I'm ancient and evil? Is that it?" Rowena glares. "Let me tell you about you. You've had a difficult and lonely childhood--Tragedy. Absent parents. Always outside the mainstream. Sexually progressive. Living in your own head for solace and direction."

"Yeah, but still, we are pretty different."

"I read you the minute I saw you. I'm sure you're learning that the line between good and evil is quite flexible, but we part company when it comes to blind devotion. Case in point the Winchesters. You've made them the family you don't have. Foolish."

"Sam and Dean are like my brothers. I love them. Y/N... She saved me. She made me own up to my own fears and saved me. She's more than just a sister to me... I'm not giving up on her. On either of them."

"This is it, the boss battle. Come on, we gotta save the patients," Charlie says, getting her gun ready.

"Charlie, you have to stop. You said we're stuck in a loop, and that loop is only going to continue. However, you're dying out there in the real world, and I might be too. Dean is alone trying to bring us back so you need to break the loop."

"Okay. How?"

"You gotta stop playing."

"What?! No, no. We gotta save them. Nut up, Winchester." A vampire punches through the door, but you use your magic to kill him. "See? You can't stop either."

"Charlie, listen to me. This poison is designed to put your mind into an endless cycle while your insides turn to mush, okay? Its fuel is fear. Now call me crazy, but I think the only way to break the cycle is to let go of the fear and stop playing the game."

"You don't know that."

She shoots another vampire trying to get in, but you take her shoulders in your hands and make her face you.

"Your fear is not to stop playing the game. It's not of the vampire soldiers. It's not of this game. You're afraid of losing her, Charlie. She's already gone."

Charlie doesn't want to believe that her mother is gone, but you have to convince her to let go of her fear.

"I didn't want to believe my dad was gone, either. I know you don't want to live in a world where your mom is gone, but by keeping her in this hospital, you're only hurting her. It's time for her to move on. It's the only way she can start to heal because it's the only way for you to start to heal."

"I can't," she whispers as tears fall from her eyes.

"My dad should have never gotten shot. I was the one who killed Dick's friends, and then I used the last of my Borax on Dick. He killed my dad because of what I did. Sometimes I feel like it was my fault that he got shot, but you did not kill your mom."

"No, you don't understand. You don't understand!" she cries. "I was at a sleepover, and I got scared. I called my parents to come and get me. They should never have been driving that night."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I just wanna tell her that I'm sorry and that I love her," she sobs. "I just need her to hear it again. I just need her to hear that one more time, but she can't. She can't."

"She knows, Charlie. Parents always know," you say, letting your tears fall. You hope Robert knows how much you love him, whenever he may be. "You have to let her go."

You let your arms fall at your sides, and Charlie looks at the door. The vampires continue to get in, but the minute Charlie drops her shotgun, they disappear; the hallway is empty. Charlie walks over to the bed where her mom is, and when she slides the curtains open, her mom is gone. Even your son is gone, but you know you're not ready to let him go just yet.

This is not your nightmare, it's hers.

Charlie knows the kind of person you are and she will not stop until you're back to who you were before.

"I know, and that steadfast loyalty will be your undoing, my girl."

The tension between the two girls only goes up from there and before Cas knows it, both of them are yelling at each other. Nothing is getting done because they don't know how to work with each other. Cas takes out his phone and calls Sam who answers on the first ring. Sam picks up his phone as he watches Dean try and fails to turn the chair into a desk.

"Cas?"

"Yeah, listen, we have a problem here."

Charlie storms away from Rowena and approaches Cas with an angry look on her face.

"Okay, I am doing my best, but with her criticizing, breathing down my neck, and trying to sign me up for Team Witch, I am going crazy."

"I know," Cas sighs.

"No, she is evil."

"She is a wicked witch by definition--"

"No, I mean something bad is going to happen here. Please, give me two hours or even one hour in any place that's quiet. Y/N and Dean are counting on me to get this one and I can't screw it up."

"Do not let her go off, Cas. Do you hear me?"

Cas looks at his phone and sees his call to Sam is still connected.

"Let me talk to Sam real fast." Charlie huffs out and goes back to Rowena. The bickering continues louder if possible. "I don't think I'm making myself clear. I've got a situation here."

"There's no way Charlie can go off by herself. Cas, there are dangerous people looking for her."

"Fine, I'll go with her."

"No, you can't leave Rowena there alone, either."

"Nothing is getting done, Sam. What do I do?"

Sam looks at Dean who slams his hand against the table in frustration.

"Why don't we trade places? I'll go there and you come here. Dean really needs you right now. He's trying to use magic but it's not going right. Do you want to switch?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

"Good, I'll be there shortly." Sam hangs up. "Hey, man, I'm going to switch places with Cas. He's gonna come here. He might be able to help you get in touch with Y/N... the real Y/N."

"Yeah, please."

"Okay."

Cas enters the Bunker an hour later to see Dean sitting at one of the library tables with his head in his hands.

"Dean?"

"Cas?" He looks up at the angel with tears in his eyes. "You gotta help me. I need to talk to Y/N... the real Y/N. She's in my head. Please, help me talk to her. I can't do this without her. I wasn't meant to do something like this. Please."

"Of course," the angel nods.

Cas walks around to Dean and places both hands on his head. His eyes shine blue as his grace pours into Dean's head.

The room you're in is almost completely white. Except for a few dark spots, you can see everything. There is not a damn thing in this room to entertain you with, and Dean hasn't stopped pacing outside the room. You can't escape so what's there left to do but sit here and wait for something... anything to happen. You're sitting on the back wall with a ball of blue magic in your hands. You throw it to the other side of the room only to have it bounce back to you.

That's what you've been doing. Playing catch by yourself.

You catch the ball and let it mist away with a sigh. You lean your head against the wall and look at Dean who suddenly has stopped pacing. He turns to look at you with tears in his eyes.

"Y/N?"

"Dean!" You get up and run to the door but the invisible wall stops you. "I can't leave here." Dean steps into the room and you fling yourself at him, wrapping your legs and arms around his body. You shove your face in his neck and cry happily. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Dean lets you go and he looks down at you while tears are streaming down his cheeks. The love you just showed him is overwhelming. The damage you have done to him is evident in the way a simple hug makes him burst into tears.

"Y/N, you're here," he cries.

"What is going on? I've been stuck in this room for weeks."

"Try almost a year."

You step back with a gasp. "What? What's going on?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"We were going to fight Metatron. We tried but he was too powerful. Did we beat him?"

"No. He killed me," tears well in your eyes, "and because of that, I sucked your soul out of your body. You're inside my head right now. Your body is out there right now walking around without a soul. You have red magic and it's all very, very bad."

"What about our kids?" you panic. You grip his shirt and cry softly. "Tell me our kids are safe."

"For now but she wants them. Y/N, the things she has done. She--"

"I don't want to know," you shake your head and wipe your tears. "Dean, what are you doing here?"

"Your soul is locked inside my body. I've been purifying it for you because I turned into a demon when Metatron killed me. The Mark made me into that. I turned your soul completely black, but because I have your soul, I have access to your magic. I need help harnessing all that power."

"It makes sense," you nod. "She's chaos magic and I'm order magic. We cancel each other out. The only way to beat her is with my magic."

"How? I'm at a crossroads, sweetheart. I don't know what to do. I don't know how you did this."

"I did it because I had you, Dean. My love for you made it so." You walk over to him and grab the sides of his face. He closes his eyes and lets two tears fall down from your gentle touch. "When I use my magic, I don't use this," you point to his head, "I use this," you point to his heart. "I think about our kids and the love I have for them. I think about you and how happy you make me. I use love to fuel my power. All you need to do is clear your mind and let your heart do the talking. Once you do that, you can do anything you desire, and that includes taking her down. You're the love of my life, Dean," you sniffle, "and I believe in you."

Dean breaks down crying right in front of you. He grips your shoulders so make sure you're real and right in front of him. You reach up and wipe his tears away, and he leans into your touch.

"She's hurt you, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, she has," his voice cracks. "It's bad, Y/N."

"I want you to know something, Dean." You grab his cheeks and make him look at you. "No matter what she says or what she does, just remember I love you so much. You are my best friend, my husband, the love of my life, and the father of my children. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for you. I'd trade the whole world for a minute of your time. You are strong and brave and caring. I don't know what she said to you but just know my love for you is stronger than her magic. Please don't forget that."

You pull him down and kiss him with every bit of love you have for him. His tears mix in with the kiss but you don't care. He needs this. You need this. Now that you know what is going on out there, you're going to do whatever you can to help him.

"Do me a favor, Dean."

"Anything."

"Kick her ass and bring me home."

Dean is transported out of his mind and he rests his head on the table while he cries. Cas gets tears just seeing how broken Dean is right now. He puts a hand on his shoulder but Dean jumps up, eager to get this moving along.

"Dean, are you okay?"

"I will be." His face hardens and his eyes shine blue. "I can do this."

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

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