#liberty���s kids

[masterhallmark]

WIP Peter Pan and the Pirates fan art

I decided to give Hook a moustache. It just...looks right, you know?

Edit: Still deciding whether I like the moustache enough or not to keep it when I finish the piece

[tricornonthecob]

...

Based on a story from my sister. When my first nephew was still an infant, he did what babies do and cried in the night for something. He'd already been fed, so my brother in law took his turn with the beb. When he didn't come back for a while, sister went to investigate. He'd ended up falling asleep standing up in the middle of rocking his son in his arms.

(everyone thank @permanenthistorydamage and @lady-bird23 for convincing me that James' 18th century nightcap was in fact the correct addition.)

[connectingconstellations]

Chapter 19 sneak peek

Moses set down the parcels he’d been carrying. “Henri, put these away in the store room.” And then, with a small sigh and a stern look at James. “They’ve raised the price of paper another half shilling per ream. Watch that you check the type carefully. I don’t want to waste pages.”

[pettyshippen]

Incorrect Libertys Kids Quotes

Sarah: Peggy Shippen is coming.

Abigail Adams: What's that pet name she has for you?

Sarah: Whore.

[maxlarens]

OP: i can’t complain but i will

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader; oscar piastri & driver!reader & lando norris; lando norris x oscar piastri

word count: 2.4k+

an: here’s a little bit of angst a little bit of fluff and me holding myself back from making osc x reader x lan a poly ship😭 disclaimer: this isn’t an accurate reflection of the events of the Hungary GP. i take creative liberties as usual! and sorry to lewis. it’s still a mercedes P3 i guess😭 also here are my thoughts on the race so nothing is misconstrued here. AND gif credit because it keeps disappearing!

I. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out

Oscar crosses the finish line in Hungary and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Y’know, fine in the way where there’s this feeling in his chest. This thing gnawing at his insides. At his gut. And maybe it’s his helmet, maybe it’s the temperature, but there’s something on his cheeks. Heat. Something burning. Maybe.

His mind goes immediately to those clips he’d seen of Lando’s onboard in Miami. The shrill little giggles, the high-pitch of his teammates voice, the cheer of the crowd faintly in the background. Crackle hiss—

No one’s cheering for Oscar—

Tom is on the radio.

Oscar’s not stupid, not by a long shot. He can hear the strained quality of it, the forced cheerfulness.

Yeah. Oscar apologises before he can think twice about it. It just slips out of him. He thinks of you telling him— on a Tuesday night two weeks ago— that he needed to “stop saying sorry so fucking much, Oscar”. The way he’d been distracted by his name in your mouth. Oscar. Not Osc like he’s used to, or the occasional Oscie you’re prone to throw out. Oscar. Like you were serious.

Whatever. He says something to Tom that his publicist would be proud of. Waves at the grandstands. Tries not to think, not like this. I didn’t want it like this.

A sigh leeches out of him. Lando’s car is in his periphery and you’re trailing behind him as the three of you turn. The three of you on a podium… it’s a dream come true for him. But— yeah— not like this.

He’s in the car for too long. Helmet on his head, where no one can see his face. He’s okay, he thinks. He’s fine.

He thinks of being a little kid at Albert Park. Watching F1 in the living room late at night. Getting in a kart for the first time and feeling alive. And okay—

Yes, there’s a sour taste in his mouth. Words unsaid sitting on his tongue. But he’s starting to feel the smile tugging at his lips. The feeling is his chest starts to ease, just a little. Just a bit.

He’s looking up and there’s you and there’s Lando. You’re on opposite sides of the car, Lando’s reaching for him, for his hand. Clutching it tightly. Lando squeezes once, his helmet covered face bobs in a nod that says something… part of Oscar hopes it’s I’m sorry. Another part of him is mad that it may not be.

And you, well you have no idea the half hour he’s just had. But your hand is on his shoulder and then on the top of his helmet and you’re whacking it with a gusto he hadn’t expected. He thinks you might be crying. You keep reaching in through your visor to wipe at your eyes and it’s making Oscar feel sick. You’re crying and he’s sitting here feeling sorry for himself because the win wasn’t perfect.

Fuck.

So Oscar grins and he bears it.

He gets out of the car and he smooths it over until everything is okay again. Because that’s what he’s good at. Because that’s how he’s made it here. Oscar Piastri is a team player, sometimes more than he is anything else. And that’s okay, that’s fine for now, because one day, eventually, Oscar is going to be the reason they need to hire a team player. One day he’ll be the beating heart of some Formula One team and he won’t have to win a race because his teammate had to let him by—

That’s not Lando’s fault either. Lando is…

He’s Lando. Oscar gets it.

Oscar gets it more than anyone.

II. I am obsessive. I contain nothing but the replay

Lando is trying so fucking hard not to have a tantrum.

It’s this infuriating feedback loop where he thinks I had it and then something cuts in to say but Oscar deserved it and then it starts over again. It’s making Lando feel like shit, for losing, for being a bad friend, for jeopardising the relative peace of the team. He’s trying to temper the angry, selfish little spoiled brat voice in his head but it’s so fucking hard to keep that dog on a leash.

He’s trying to be okay.

He’s in the post-race room with you and he’s trying to be fine.

And okay, so he knocks the stupid second place cap to the ground in front of the camera that’s broadcasting you guys to the world. Always second. God. He’d tasted a win in Miami and it’s almost like he’s worse off for it. It’s a win or it’s nothing and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. There’s a voice in his head that’s saying, you’re just a one trick pony, Lando. Do it again and you might be worth something.

It’s making him crazy.

He bites his tongue. Turns to look at you, lounging in the third place chair like it doesn’t matter, like you’re happy to just be on the podium.

You raise an eyebrow at him, face blank but he knows what it says anyway. Be happy for him. He would be happy for you.

Fuck, and he would—

He would. Selfless and kind above all, Oscar.

Lando frowns, his back to the lens.

Your gaze flicks from him, to the hat on the floor. Pick it up, it says. Pick it up and pretend.

Lando picks it up. He’s the one who gave Oscar the position back after all. He’s his own worst enemy right now. Not you, certainly not Oscar—

Speaking of Oscar.

He’s here. He’s holding the first place cap that Lando wants to be his, he’s putting it on his head and Lando’s okay. Lando’s fine. He’s watching the race replay and seeing Max turn into your car and he’s trying desperately to look at that, pay attention to that, and not Oscar.

Because it hurts.

Not in a good way, not the way Lando looks at him sometimes and feels some yawning sun in his chest.

Instead there’s something bitter and snarling.

Some chained, angry dog on a leash.

Lando turns, goes to sit in the chair he doesn’t want to sit in, and catches Oscar’s eye. He feels the snarling thing strain, it goes to bark, to bite. Then Oscar smiles. It’s not much— it doesn’t reach his eyes exactly. But it’s effort. It’s thank you. It’s I know what that meant.

It’s enough.

III. He forgives you, dogs are like that, so loyal

You know something is off the second that you get out of the car. This isn’t what Oscar’s maiden win is supposed to look like— or it almost is, but the picture is wrong.

It’s not ecstatic, it’s not crowds chanting his name, it’s not Oscar getting out of the car like a shot and jumping into the arms of his team.

Instead, you see grim faces plastered over with smiles, McLaren engineers huddled into groups and talking in hushed tones. Lando’s sulking, you can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way people hover around him, keeping their distance a bit. You blink— there’s something in your eyes, your nose tingling with some emotion—

Whatever. You push it aside, go to Oscar’s car before anything else, before even taking your helmet off. It's you and Lando on opposite sides and whatever the case, whatever happened out there that you're not aware of, Lando's here. Lando's sucking it up.

You find out bits and pieces over the next hour, from your race engineer, from the post-race interviews, from Lando's attitude in the cool down room. The tension between them is bleeding into everything and they orbit around each other all afternoon. They can't quite look at each other, they keep making eye contact for a split second and then letting it slide away. They keep smiling these strained things at each other. Lando keeps reaching out to touch Oscar, but always at arms length. Like an apology neither of them can quite commit to.

You know it's the team that are the issue and it's also this hurt that Lando can't quite get over, and an Oscar who is trying to just be happy but needs more time to get there.

It's making your heart ache.

You've dreamt of this, stupidly enough. Oscar on the top step of the podium, that bunny-tooth grin of his spreading and spreading. Champagne and confetti. You're there, of course you're there. Lando is too. So it's painful to have that dream actualised and to realise it's not perfect— because, well, nothing ever is.

And it's fucking unfortunate.

But it's them. So it's fine.

You're baffled by that sometimes. You still hold grudges against old teammates. There are things you'll never forgive them for, wounds that will never heal. But you come back from your frustratingly long debrief and find them doubled over outside their driver's room, giggling their heads off at something. It's not perfect, there's still something between them, something in the air.

But they're trying.

And Oscar is smiling wider than you've seen in a long while.

So for Oscar's sake you push it aside—

It's always a little different away from prying eyes, away from rolling cameras, in front of which you feel pressure to act like Oscar and Lando are first and foremost your rivals. When they're gone they can just be your friends. Your boys.

Naturally, you're thudding into Oscar before he really notices you're there. Too busy throwing his head back at something Lando had said. He's still in champagne wet fireproofs as you reach your arms around his shoulders, but so are you. He smells vaguely like a wet dog and lets out a soft oft noise as you charge into him.

"Hey, race winner," you say as he threads his arms around your waist.

You put your forehead on his collarbone, close your eyes as a laugh flutters out of him. You hear it rumble in his chest as he rocks the two of you gently from side to side. It's giggly, light and joyful like the one he does when he's tipsy. But he's not tipsy, just happy you think.

"Race winner," he mumbles, low, quiet, to himself more than anything, "Yeah."

"Yeah," you whisper back.

You're like that maybe for too long. Longer than people who are just friends should be. You can hear Lando moving around behind you, asphalt grinding under his feet. His gaze prickling the back of your neck. Eventually, you pull away. You slide your hands to grip Oscar's shoulders, fingertips pressing into warm skin, lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. Accidentally, your lips land too close to the corner of his mouth, brushing against stubble and sweat. You hear something soft escape his lips, barely audible as his brown eyes bore into yours. Pupils blown large, gaze drifting momentarily down to your lips.

"Good job today, Osc," you say, trying not to let your breath hitch.

You pull away a little before he does something in the heat of the moment— and right in front of Lando, of all people. He's high on adrenaline, that's all. That's all.

"Thank you," he smiles, all teeth.

You feel hot all the way down your neck, into your chest. Hm, premature menopause, you think, rather than the obvious— which is that it makes you mega nervous to be that close to Oscar Piastri.

Lando clears his throat.

In a jerky, surprised movement you step away from Oscar, while Oscar fumbles awkwardly for his phone in his pocket. He holds it up, says something stumbling about calling his family and then takes only maybe five steps away before you or Lando can say a thing.

You laugh, just a little.

Then do a pleased little spin to face Lando.

Who seems better, lighter. At least in comparison to how he was immediately post-race. Which you’re glad to see. Especially after catching bits of his team radio from a brief conversation with George. You’re not particularly happy about it, but it’s not really your place to be upset.

“Hey,” you smile warmly.

He smiles back, tighter than you’d hoped.

You move a bit closer into his personal space, watching him carefully. It’s okay you think. He’s more subdued than usual, but you can’t see the seething thing that was under his skin earlier. That would be fine of course, he’s entitled to that, but his sake you’re glad it’s gone.

“You okay?”, you ask.

Lando nods, eyes falling closed momentarily as he hums contemplatively, “‘M okay. Happy for him.”

You nod, stepping closer to pull him into a one armed hug that’s not quite as energetic as the one you’d given Oscar before.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, pressing the side of your face into his cheek, “Upset too?”

He hums again, sighs, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Yeah,” because you get it,

Maybe not in these exact circumstances. But you know what it’s like. To chase a win with everything you have, to fall short after it’s been in your grasp. You understand that. So does Oscar—

Speaking of.

Oscar’s back, footsteps crunching asphalt behind you.

“They’re asleep,” he explains, “I’ll talk to them later.”

You half let Lando go, moving to accommodate the race winner into your little circle. They’re a bit weird about it, shuffling into place awkwardly, you’re not surprised after a day like today, but you persevere— wrapping arms around both of them and pulling them simultaneously down into a haphazard hug that you’re in the middle of.

Lando’s face is in your neck somehow, mumbling something about you being overbearing while his hand clutches at your waist to keep himself upright. Oscar’s arm is tight around your shoulders and your face is squished up against his chest. You squeeze tightly— let them go when it’s been a minute too long—

You can feel yourself almost getting caught up in the tangle of limbs. The warmth of your friends. The emotion of it. You think there’s something stuck in your eye again, something wet in your tear ducts.

You sniff, try to ignore it, hope they don’t see.

Then, stupid observant Oscar, “Are you crying?”

You let out an offended noise and shake your head to deny it, but instead something that’s almost a sob, but not quite, slips out—

“No,” you declare, but it’s unconvincing—

and then you’re back in the hug. All sweat and sticky champagne residue, Lando’s too-strong cologne and Oscar who smells like burnt rubber. And it’s not perfect, because nothing ever is, but it’s enough for you.

this was really cathartic for me to be honest. just needed my little driver!reader to hug landoscar after that race. needed to get some big feelings out and then needed a sweet little fluff section to make me feel better.

ALSO DISCLAIMER: this was a work of FICTION it does not reflect the entirety of what i feel about the events of the hungary gp. i am simply playing with dolls! thank you and goodbye!

[milla-frenchy]

October 31

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you go out to meet your two fwb for Halloween, a perfect evening for urban exploration

Warnings: 18+ mdni. noncon by manipulation, glove kink, mask kink, mfm, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie. Age gap unspecified

a/n:  thanks for the ask, @megangovier 😘❤️ I took some liberties and turned it into something a little different. I hope you’ll like it 🙏❤️

This is written for @mermaidgirl30 's Halloween writing challenge Thank you for the event 🎃👻

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing, ily 😘🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

October 31. 

Your favorite day of the year. The day of costumes and night outs in such a special atmosphere.

You had just left Joel Miller's house, after going to see his daughter Sarah. She was a really lovely kid, curious and funny, and you had stayed in touch, even if she didn't need a babysitter anymore. She would have loved to come with you tonight, but you couldn't take her. You and your friends had been doing urban exploration for a few months, and tonight you were going to explore an abandoned hospital that you had spotted. You couldn't take the responsibility of taking her, and you knew her father would never agree anyway.

Not to mention that you were going there with your two friends with benefits, Randy and Cotton, and you didn't want to give up on an outing that could lead to something spicier.

You had agreed to meet at the old doctors' entrance. The sign was still there, above the door, even if it was only hanging on one side. Your two friends were waiting for you, behind the front door, dressed as Ghostface: masks, capes, black shoes and gloves. One of them had the famous fake knife, and the other - a shotgun which he leaned nonchalantly against his shoulder.

“Very original,” you laughed when you entered the building. “Are you gonna ask me about my favorite horror movie, too?”

They chuckled, the sound half muffled by their masks, and you walked down the hospital hallway. When you passed the first door, they signaled to you not to make any noise, a gloved index finger in front of their mouth, at the same time. You were always silent when you visited a place, to be sure to hear every possible noise.

The place was very run-down, littered with debris. You reached for an electrical panel and flicked it without much hope, but the lights came on. Some were broken, some were flickering, but you could see a little better than with your flashlights. A wheelchair was in the middle of the hallway. A lot of equipment had been broken.

At the end of the corridor there was a staircase that led to the upper floors. Cotton walked past. You knew it was him because he was the shorter one. You followed him, Randy closing the way. He caressed your ass with his gloved hand as you walked up, making you giggle. You swayed your hips to tease him and he squeezed your ass cheek. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something, but you couldn't clearly hear what escaped his lips.

You kept exploring, and reached the top floor. The rooms were less damaged, but the lighting didn't work there and you had to use your flash lights to illuminate your way. When you reached the last room, Randy approached you and brushed your cheek with his gloved hand, then your neck. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.

“I’m glad I told you about my glove kink,” you breathed in his ear. “It’s a perfect day to please me with it.”

He groaned, his other hand gripping your ass and pressing you against his already hard cock.

“Well, well… someone’s in the mood…” you smiled.

Your other friend came closer, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. Randy grabbed his crotch in his hand and palmed himself slowly. He tilted his head to the side, pressing the tip of his knife to his temple. With your ass against Cotton's cock, you were breathless as you were watching your friend, in this costume, touch himself. Then he took your hand and placed it on his length. He was so hard that you already couldn’t wait for them to fuck you, however they wanted to.

They had brought a voice distorter and he turned it on, for the first time since you were here.

“Blow me, sweetheart,” he said, without hesitation in the voice distorted by the device. You were a little surprised by his confidence, but it suited the character after all. He took his cock out as you knelt down, knees in the dust, and licked the tip that he was holding towards you. His scent was stronger than usual, but it was turning you on. You rounded your lips around the tip, greedy to taste him there, in that place, head already boobing, his strong precum flowing down your throat. Everything was arousing you: the place, the situation, the darkness. Part of you was a little worried that another group could still come in, but you knew your friends were there to protect you. 

When the second cock appeared in front of you, you were surprised. This was new. The three of you often fucked, but your friends never got this close to each other. You released the cock in your mouth with a pop, your face rose to the two of them, and you smiled. You didn’t wait and sucked the tip. You were horny as hell.

Your first friend - Randy - put his hand on the back of your head, and pushed you further towards the cock in your mouth. You moaned and slid your hand under your Halloween costume, then into your panties. Unable to resist the primal need that enveloped you. He kept pressing on your head to take the other cock deeper in your mouth. Cotton was pushing further too, until his tip hit the back of your throat. Randy held you in place, saying “look at that, ain’t she a good girl?” in the voice distorter.

“Yeah, that’s a really, really good girl…turning into a perfect slut for these cocks,” the other replied in the device.

You whimpered, his cock in your mouth. He released you and you felt that your fingers were covered by your wetness. Turned on by their attitude, their confidence.

“Fuck me, I need it,” you asked with a desire in your voice.

“Come here,” Randy ordered. “Wanna feel this slutty mouth again.” 

“Fuck… you’re turning me on like never before, when you speak to me like that,” you breathed, turning to Randy. 

“Yeah, we learnt our lesson,” Cotton added as he positioned himself behind you. He pressed the back of your neck to make you lean forward towards Randy’s cock which he was holding close to your mouth. Randy brushed his gloved finger against your folds then pushed it in slightly. The new sensation of the leather inside you made you whine, just before the cock in front of you nudged your lips. You opened them, eager to have his taste in your mouth again. His thickness. Behind you, Cotton caressed your folds and your clit, before pushing in two fingers, still gloved. The feeling was overwhelming. Then he pulled his hand away, and you moaned at the loss.

“Our little whore needs more,” Randy chuckled, balls deep in your mouth.

“We’re gonna give her what she wants. She’s gonna take-” he said, suddenly thrusting his cock in your core “-what she needs.”

“Fuck, Cotton?!” you exclaimed as you pulled away under his roughness, just before Randy went back in, almost forcing you on his cock.

“Shut up and take it. And don’t stop blowing me. Oh fuck, your mouth is so good, baby.”

They were passing the device around, using your body, moving it forward and backward depending on when the cock was thrusting in your pussy, and when the other was sinking into your throat.

“Fuck, man, she’s so good.”

“Told ya she’d love being fucked in here.”

You freed your mouth, just long enough to say “so you talk about me when I’m not there? To decide how or where you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied, before sliding his cock between your lips again. “We talked about this night a lot, baby.”

“Mmmm…,” you hummed against the shaft fucking your mouth.

“Damn man, that was such a good idea.” 

They high fived above your back, the clap ringing in the silence of the room, before you heard moans and growls again, and skin against skin.

They used your body, groaning more and more, telling what a slut you were, taking both of their cocks there. You pulled back just enough to remove the cock from your mouth, jerking the shaft covered in your saliva.

“Aren’t you afraid that we’ll make too much noise? That someone could come here?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. Even if someone comes, there’s no way they’d touch you. This pussy’s ours, and only ours right now.”

Randy shoved his cock into your mouth again, stopping you from responding.

“Fuck, her mouth’s heaven. Did you think you’d get spit roasted, baby? Taking two cocks in here?”

“uh hu,” you mumbled, mouth full.

“You wanna switch, man? I wanna fuck this cunt.”

“Yeah! Lemme feed her mouth again.”

They turned places so quickly that you didn't have time to straighten up, and they immediately stuffed you full again.

“Oh damn. Her cunt’s fucking soaked...”

“Yeah, I spread her wide. Huh, baby?”

Randy’s gloved hand brushed your clit, surprisingly softly as his other hand gripped your hip tightly and he kept thrusting in your cunt.

“You’re gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come while we use you like a fuck doll, filling your two slutty holes?”

“Mmmm,” you mumbled again, as Cotton held your cheeks tightly in his hands, moaning louder and louder, until he stilled, cock buried in your mouth, and his cum spurted against the back of your throat. He held you in place, panting, breathing heavily, until you pulsed on Randy’s shaft, moans muffled by the thick cock still in your mouth.

Cotton didn’t let go of you, until you heard Randy breathe heavily. He fucked you harder, faster, hands firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. 

They both held you until he came too, long jets of hot sperm filling the bottom of your pussy. 

They finally released you, mouth and pussy filled. You thought that it was the best October 31st of your life. 

You smiled blissfully as you got up, and placed a kiss on the covered cheeks of each of them. Cotton gave you some water from his backpack, before you walked to the ground floor, then to the parking lot. They waited for you to leave, waving at you when you looked at them. The knife and the gun in their other hands.

The next afternoon, you went to see Sarah to surprise her. You told her about the hospital, without mentioning the final part, of course. While she was preparing lunch for the two of you, you asked her for the Scream DVD you had lent her. You wanted to watch it again that night. She told you to get it back from her father's room.

"I didn't know your father liked horror movies?"

"Me neither, actually," she replied with a shrug. “He told me he wanted to watch it. It surprised me too.”

You went upstairs and entered Joel's bedroom. He had a TV on the dresser, and you approached it to get the DVD that was probably there. 

A backpack on the floor caught your eye. A Ghostface mask was sticking out of it. A lump formed in your stomach, but you didn’t really understand why. Halloween had just passed. What could be more common than those masks? Even your friends were wearing them last night. 

Though, curiosity got over you, and you grabbed the backpack and put it on the bed then opened it wider. You took out two masks, leather gloves and two long black capes.

Your instinct made the ball in your stomach double in size. You went back down, trembling.

“Did you spend yesterday’s evening with your dad, Sarah?”

“No, he had some work to do with Tommy. He came home late.”

You smiled mechanically before grabbing your phone, and frantically searched for Randy’s name.

“Did you get home safely last night, after the hospital?”

“What are you talking about? I sent you a message telling you we couldn't go?”

Your hand clenched your phone when you hung up, your body frozen. You remembered the evening before, hearing Sarah’s father come down the stairs from her bedroom, walking into the dining room. You remembered you heard him on the phone “Tommy? Yeah, everything’s ready.”

You remembered the moment you left the Millers’. after taking your phone that you had left on their dining room table. Unattended.

An icy feeling ran down your spine, when you remembered all that.

You thought about the looks Joel Miller gave you sometimes. You thought of last Sunday, when Sarah had invited you to lunch. Tommy Miller had opened the door for you, his gaze sliding over you up and down without any discretion. Then the look he exchanged with his brother.

You barely had time to open the front door and threw up in the driveway.

“Something got stuck in your throat, sweetheart?” Joel asked you as he got out of his truck, after parking.

Tommy chuckled, joining his brother in front of you. Their posture seemed all too familiar to you, suddenly. The same smirk crossed their faces. 

You threw up again.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets Your Baby || 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairing: Hyrule, Time, Wild, Four x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Interesting indeed 😈Now, I have my own set of headcannons for what order the Chain becomes dads in, but regardless of their own experience, I'm sure the Links would all subject the new dad to lots of support and teasing. Here you go 💜 Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

The last thing Hyrule was expecting to encounter during his village visit was his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage. Then again, life has been full of surprises lately and it wasn't like he didn't already know that the portals between their worlds are still active. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again and honestly, it couldn't have aligned more perfectly.

Happy to see the rest of the Chain again, Hyrule takes the liberty of inviting them back to his home so that they can properly catch up and not be the subject of so many judgment stares from villagers. Throughout the short trip there, the group’s laughter is vibrant as they detail accounts from their recent adventures, soon turning it into a friendly competition of who has the craziest stories. 

This conversation stays well alive all the way from their first steps outside of the village gates to the second Hyrule opens the door to his house, at which point the spirited teasing immediately dies off into a stunned silence.

“Oh! Hello again!” You’re just as pleasantly surprised to see the boys as your boyfriend had been, your smile more than welcoming as you turn around to greet them, yet they’re less focused on you and more so on the small infant you cradle in your arms.

“...I think the Traveler wins,” Wild mumbles, his disbelief shared amongst the rest of the group who merely nod distractedly. 

“Right! I forgot to mention -” Hyrule excitedly hurries to your side before turning to his friends with a thrilled smile, “- This is our daughter, Hope.”

“You just casually forgot to mention you have a kid now…?” Legend narrows his eyes while pointing to the kid in question. He should probably be more annoyed with Hyrule’s tendency of always skipping over important details, but honestly he’s just too shocked to process it right this second.

“Well, she’s only about a month old. Being a dad now takes some getting used to,” Hyrule defends, rubbing the back of his neck timidly, but when you pass your daughter over to him, he shows practice in the way he gently holds her securely to himself before approaching the boys to properly show her off.

Despite their surprise, they’re eager to crowd around him, each wanting to get a good look to ensure this isn’t some clever joke you’re both pulling on them. Fluffy head of dark wavy hair…A little button nose…Sharp pointed ears…Yep, this baby must be yours. She looks exactly as one would imagine the product of Hyrule’s sex life to look like…

“...Geeze. She’s adorable,” Warrior awes, practically leaning over Legend who elbows him back with a glare.

“Isn’t she?” You preen.

“She’s strong, too,” The Vet acknowledges with an unamused pout. He had made the mistake of holding a finger out to the baby only for her to grasp it in an unwavering grip. His attempts at pulling away are fruitless, not that he’s actually trying that hard. Maybe he even likes the feeling of his heart melting just a bit.

“Congratulations. You two must be very proud,” Time praises kindly, having already felt the joy that comes with being a parent himself. He can recognize it in the way Hyrule and you affectionately watch your giggling baby with a pleasant glow surrounding you both.

“We very much are…”

Muffled commotion outside alerts you to the fact that you have visitors long before they stumble into your home, not even bothering to knock as their excitement gets the better of them. Now, any other day, your husband would be quick to scold such ill-mannered behavior, but fortunately for your guests, he's in far too good of a mood to let it be soured.

So, instead of acknowledging the Chain’s less than graceful entrance, Time immediately rises to his feet with a proud hand left upon your shoulder, "Everyone, we'd like you to meet Saria and Mallory."

The young heroes are in awe as they crowd around the bed just to get a look at the small bundles held within your arms. Sure, they've seen babies before, but these are Time's babies. For many of them, the complicated concept of love alone had once seemed out of reach for any hero of courage, yet here the Old Man is, hitched to a lovely wife and now the lucky father of two adorable daughters. It's an amazing accomplishment, really; one that has the entire Chain feeling happy for him.

"They're so little," Hyrule whispers, scared to speak any louder out of fear he'll accidently wake them.

"They inherited their dad's nose, poor things," Warrior jests, throwing a smirk Time's way.

"They'll grow into them," Rather than take it personally, he chuckles while carefully taking one of the girls from you. Despite having only become a father a few hours ago, he's already a natural at handling them. Ever so gently - as if handling the thinnest of glass - he cradles his daughter to his chest and fixes the tiny hand-sewn blanket around her; a gift from her godmother, Malon, of course.

"You'll have your hands full with twins," Four remarks prudently.

You sigh at the thought, your head thrown back against your pillow, "Ugh, we know…”

Although you’re visibly tired after having undergone hours of stressful labor, you still look upon the baby in your arms with nothing short of pure admiration, clearly having no actual regrets towards having either of them. In your eyes, twins just mean all the more love to give.

"Nothing we can't handle," Time promises before getting a mischievous glimmer in his eye while casually extending his sleeping baby out to Twilight, "This one is Mallory, by the way -"

"- W-Wait -!" The Rancher is immediately caught off guard by it, yet his objections are ignored. Time drops the baby into his arms anyway, practically forcing Twilight to take her, not that he truly minds. A natural around children himself, it takes him only a few seconds to adjust the baby comfortably in his hold.

Blind to the other boys who hover around his shoulders, Twilight's eyes are locked in amazement upon the tiny bean who scrunches her nose and whimpers quietly before soon settling down…To think, this small infant no more than a few hours old is a relative of his. He can't help but wonder how closely related they are. How many generations between them? Three? Two? Maybe even just one? It's a strange thought to consider...but also a very comforting one, too.

"...She's a real beauty, isn't she?" Time asks softly with a strong pat to Twilight's back. The only reply he gets is a wordless nod and whimper as the teary eyed Rancher sniffles.

What kind of horrors do they need to prepare themselves for? That's the question that rings through every hero's head as they approach Wild's home. They're concern only grows when - as if sensing them - the Champion suddenly appears in his open doorway with an ear-to-ear grin greeting them...Not the most comforting sight seeing as they've come all this way under his vague request.

A letter had been sent to each of them only giving the minor hint that there’s a certain 'surprise' he can't wait to show them, and with someone as chaotic as their accident prone centenarian, the Chain has every right to be anxious about it.

Even as they all crowd outside of his home, Wild refuses to add any context, instead maintaining his mysteriously upbeat aura before finally stepping aside to allow them in. It's only then that the heroes realize what his 'surprise' is, welcomed by the sight of you as you stand there matching Wild's grin while holding an unfamiliar baby in your arms. She can't be much older than a few weeks, judging on both her tiny features and the obvious bags under both of her parents’ eyes...

"You have a baby?!" Wind screeches with delight, not wasting a second to race to your side.

"Her name is Mikan," Chuckling, you kneel down to let him better see your pride and joy. It isn't long before you're surrounded by most of the heroes who are immediately taken by your daughter's cuteness.

"When did this happen?" Time inquires through a raised eyebrow, one of the few Links who had remained by the door with Wild.

"Uh, she'll be three weeks old tomorrow," Wild answers, his hand darting up to rub the side of his neck. He knows that isn’t exactly what Time meant, but it’s the easiest answer.

"I didn't think you -..." Begins Twilight quietly. Although he ultimately cuts himself short, the curious look he gives his successor wordless finishes what he might've said.

Nodding slowly with some hesitation, Wild bows his head while looking back over to you. There's a fondness in his eyes as he watches you carefully pass your daughter over for Wind to hold, "I know what I said before. I...I didn't think this was something I could have - something I could want this badly, but...Well…I probably don’t need to tell you how it is…”

Twilight pats Wild’s back with a knowing smirk, indeed understanding. He’s happy to see his friend finally accept the peaceful life he deserves instead of continuing to run away from it, after all, Twilight has never been blind to the curiosity and faint jealousy that would shine in Wild’s eyes whenever listening to the other heroes talk about their families. He’s been long overdue to have one of his own.

"Hey, just one question," While Wind is busy cooing and rocking your daughter, Four turns around to address Wild once they finally join everyone else, "Did you really name your daughter after a fruit?"

Wild's cheeks flare in embarrassment, "I - It can be a pretty name, too!"

"I'm actually the one who chose it," You confess sheepishly, taking the attention away from your partner, "I was really craving tangerines throughout the whole pregnancy."

"At least it's a somewhat normal name. I was half expecting you to name your future kids something like 'Biscuit' or 'Curry'," Legend snorts.

"...We did consider picking 'Sage'.”

Warrior laughs heartily before throwing a hand over Wild shoulder with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, "Can we expect that to be the second child's name then?"

"Woah, woah, woah - Let's settle down now, gentleman,” You immediately scold while also taking the chance to save your poor partner by pulling him away from the onslaught of teasing he was about to endure, “One baby at a time. It’s not easy carrying those things, just ask your wives!”

Four has been off into his own little world - That is to say, he’s been both distracted and extremely tired; a terrible mix, but hey, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Despite his eyelids feeling like bricks, he remains awake and alert, arms folded across his chest as he sits in the bedside chair keeping watch over your sleeping form. 

You need the rest more than him anyway. Your husband has been through some pretty fearsome and ravenous beasts in his time, yet your work last night easily trumpeted every hell he’s undergone himself. Best to let you sleep unless he wants to change that statement.

A series of echoed knocks send Four bolting through the house, hissing a curse under his breath before tossing the front door open with plans to scold whoever’s on the other side, yet he’s stunned into silence when he realizes it’s no poorly timed mailman, rather the very friends he had invited over…although, they did come a lot sooner than he thought they would…

“WE’VE COME TO SEE -!”

“- SHHH!!!” Four nearly smacks a hand over Wild’s face. 

“- …The baby…” Wild finishes with a whisper and a grimace.

Four quickly ushers the Chain inside, allowing them to make themselves comfortable with STRICT orders to keep the noise level down. Yes, their early visit may not have been exactly anticipated, but Four holds no ill feelings towards it, in fact, he’s rather smiley while leading them to the nursery.

“Here they are,” He practically sings, eagerly looking inside the large crib as if he, himself, still can’t get enough of its contents. He has every right to be infatuated, “These are my girls~”

Although Four is bubbling with joy as he admires his little creations, the rest of the Chain stands by with wide eyes. Some even take the time to count each baby just to confirm that they are, indeed, seeing triple. Inside lies three little newborns, each fast asleep after having about as stressful of a day as their parents.

“We’re thinking of naming them Marigold, Amber, and Camelia. You know, keep to the color theme and all…”

“Damn, three of them, huh? You didn’t hold back at all, did you, Smithy?” Warrior observes aloud, much to Four’s instant lack of amusement.

“They’re so cute~” Wind coos, Twilight having to pull him back before he accidentally falls into a crib again.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I brought some of the twins’ old stuff then,” Time hums, his smirk holding a hint of sympathy. Needless to say, he doesn’t miss those early days of juggling babies himself, as much as he loves them dearly.

Four preens at the attention his daughters get, however his smile falters when he notices Sky sticking to the very back of the group, awkwardly rubbing his arm and chewing down on his lip. Four frowns.

“...I’m sorry. We should’ve waited until we told -” He keeps his voice down as he joins the older hero who is quick to shake his head and muster his best smile.

“- No, no. We’re happy for you both. Really…” Despite the sorrow stuck in his voice, Four can tell Sky means every word of it, even the sighed: “...You’re a very lucky guy.”

“...I am,” While there could be more said, he realizes now might not be the time to discuss it. Not with so many new babies in the room.

“No wonder you wanted us to be quiet. I can barely handle one newborn at a time, let alone three at once?” Legend mumbles half to himself, his finger gently cresting one of the baby’s chubby cheeks.

“You know, if you ever find your house getting a little too quiet, you can always babysit -”

“- No way in hell. We already have our hands full as it is.”

[tadfools]

I saw a post that was like ‘these are the cars the bg3 companions would have’ but they were all rich people shit so here’s my version just for funzies

Shadowheart has a Subaru and if you know why then you know why. There’s a moon sun catcher hanging from the review mirror and on the back there’s one of those coexist bumper stickers (it was there when she bought it but she doesn’t take it off cause it might damage the paint under it)

Karlach has her mom’s old beat up a Honda Civic. It starts rattling if it goes over 90, one of the seatbelt is being held together with duct tape, it smells like crayons, and the check engine light is always on. But good god is it going to get you where you need to go

Halsin has a jeep Liberty/Cherokee, it’s always covered in mud and it smells like a wet dog…. He doesn’t have a dog

Lae’zel has a Volkswagen bug. It’s small, dignified, economical even! (Kinda)

Wyll had a Toyota pickup from the 90’s. It’s not much but it was the first car he bought that wasn’t with his dad’s money, he loves it like a son. It’s name is Alberto

Rich kid Gale would drive a 68 mustang if he ever left the house. I love the man but he would be one of those people who has a fancy car just to say he has a fancy car and doesn’t have the first clue on how to take care of it

Jaheria has half a dozen kids at any given moment and has a minivan. Yes, she does have one of those stick figure family window decals. There’s a soccer ball sized dent on the passenger door

Minsc has a mini cooper. A mini cooper that has more scratches and dings than it should but a mini cooper nonetheless. It got left in the sun way too long and has one of those fading spots on the roof.

Astarion is the proud owner of a Prius. Her name is Natalie

Also Withers’ has the car from that 70’s show

[antiquatedplumbobs]

Antiquated Brindleton

An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File

This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.

Download and details under the cut:

SAVE DETAILS:

Includes:

Eight new residential lots

Seven new community lots

Six new households

Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.

Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.

Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.

If you’d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.

REQUIREMENTS: I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there. If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits! This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.

CC To Download:

@lilis-palace

FOLKLORE Set

@s-imagination

Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack

@happylifesims

1840s Suspenders Outfit

1900s Male Hunting Fashion

1920s Nightgown

Piteous Outfit

Sylas Fashion Set

Wilbur Outfit

@satterlly

Medieval Nightgown Della

@vroshii

Functional Tennis Set

@vampireloreskill

Antique Standing Camera

Creators Whose CC I Included:

@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)

@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)

@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)

@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)

@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)

@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)

@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)

@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)

@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)

@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)

@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)

@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)

@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)

Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much. Recommended but not required mods:

Timeless by @pandorasimbox

Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)

Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks

Home Regions by Kuttoe

DOWNLOAD: There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.

Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).

The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.

After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot. SFS | Google Drive THANK YOU: To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.

If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!

@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Squeeze Once, Squeeze Twice

Part one of the Uncaged series

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re selectively mute, but things have gotten a lot worse since hell

Warnings: LOTS of mental trauma, mentions of torture (non graphic), lots of angst, little fluff

A/N: I took some creative liberties with this one, I’ve had this idea in the back of my head forever where the little sister fell into the cage with Sam so I wanted to put it here. Also this is set in season 6 (very loosely following the plot)

A/N 2: ok so this story took on a whole life of its own, it’s gonna jump around a bit but I think I did it in a coherent way, I hope you guys like this one because I really liked the concept 💜

You’d never been very talkative, even as a little kid. You could go days without ever uttering a word, and you never spoke to someone unless you were comfortable around them—which basically meant you’d only talked to Sam and Dean. However, you used to make exceptions—John, Bobby, Ellen, Joe, and a handful of others.

You didn’t do that anymore.

In fact, you hadn’t even talked to your brothers since hell.

Dean had been hovering over you since Death got you out, worried about how silent you’d been. He’d gotten used to how little you talked, but now it felt like you might never speak again.

He wished Death could’ve done for you what he had for Sam—put your memories of the cage behind a wall—but he’d said it was different; Sam’s body had been separate from his soul, so the memories had a disconnect, but you’d been in hell the whole time.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean spoke softly, but you flinched anyway. “We’re at Bobby’s.” He eased the Impala to a stop and turned around to look at you. “You, um…” Dean swallowed. “You remember Bobby, right?”

Dean had no idea how this hell thing worked—Sam didn’t remember, and you didn’t speak—but if it was anything like his time in hell, you must’ve felt like you were in there for over 100 years.

You just stared at Dean, and not for the first time he wondered if you even remembered English. What if Lucifer and Michael spoke so much Enochian over the past hundred years that you didn’t even remember how to speak? Was he doomed to be unable to communicate with you at all?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice you reaching over the seat and grabbing hold of his wallet.

“Bobby.” Your voice got his attention. He whipped his head around to see you holding up a group photo he kept in his wallet. You were pointing at Bobby. “Bobby,” you repeated, the ghost of a smile twitching at the edge of your lips.

“Yeah.” Dean grinned. “Yeah, that’s Bobby.”

“Let’s get going,” Sam cut in, stepping out of the Impala. You got out quickly, trailing right behind Sam. Things had been strange between you and Sam; awkward. You had obviously formed some kind of severe trauma bond with Sam during your time in hell, but Sam didn’t remember anything that happened in the cage, so he didn’t understand the bond.

“You ok?” Sam asked you as he led the way towards Bobby’s porch. In answer, you reached your hand forward and grabbed his, squeezing it twice.

He didn’t even notice, too intent on waiting to hear you speak.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, softer, as if pleading with you to answer. You squeezed his hand twice again, and this time he noticed. “Is that supposed to mean something?” He asked, but the front door opening distracted him, so he didn’t see the way your face fell.

“Hey boys,” Bobby greeted as he stepped out onto his porch. “Hey kiddo.” His eyes landed on you, and a big grin broke out on his face. “It’s been a long time.”

Dean was the first to notice the discomfort in your subtle movements when the silence grew out awkwardly.

You felt as though everyone was waiting for you to speak, or at least to hug Bobby, but you hadn’t left Sam’s side.

Dean didn’t understand that, though—he could just tell you were uncomfortable. “You remember him, don’t you?” He asked.

“Hey,” Sam spoke softly, and you turned to look at him. He’d noticed the way your hand gripped his tightly, and the way you were leaning towards him and glancing at him. “I’ll go over there with you, if you wanna say hi. I’m right here with you.”

Your hand squeezed his twice, and Sam took that as an invitation to lead you up onto Bobby’s porch.

“Hey Bobby,” he said, releasing your hand for a moment to greet Bobby with a hug.

“It’s good to see you in one piece.” Bobby patted Sam on the back before both men pulled away. You looked up at Sam, and his tiny nod was all the reassurance you needed. You all but jumped into Bobby’s arms, and he chuckled and held you close. “Hey there. I’ve missed you around here.” Bobby pulled away, turning his attention to the boys. “We’ve got some work to do.”

…

Dean couldn’t get you to leave Sam’s side.

“Kid, we need all the help we can get with this,” Dean coaxed. “Sam’s gonna wake up, but…but we can’t wait any longer. We’re out of time. Cas and Crowley are on the move now, we’ve gotta go.”

It was like you couldn’t even hear him. You kept Sam’s hand gripped tightly in yours and you wouldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Kid—“

You looked around suddenly, as if making sure no one else was in the room.

“He remembers.” Dean stopped speaking when he heard your words. “When he wakes up, he’ll remember hell. I can’t leave him alone.”

“I get it, ok,” Dean said. “I know you guys went through all that torture together. But right now I need you, kid. Me and Bobby, we need you.“

You were quiet for a long moment, looking from Sam to Dean.

“Is Cas bad now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I…” Dean’s voice cracked. “I don’t know, kid.”

“I wouldn’t wish those memories of hell on anyone,” you whimpered. “And Cas, he…he made Sammy remember everything.”

“Hey.” Dean put a hand on your shoulder, trying to ignore the way you flinched before you relaxed. “We’re gonna fix this. We’re gonna get Cas back, and he’s gonna fix Sam.”

You didn’t speak again. Instead, you stood from your spot by Sam and took the gun Dean was holding out for you, leading the way out the door.

…

It was all going wrong, and you couldn’t even get to Sam. He’d shown up halfway through the fight, but Cas was blocking your way to him and Dean wouldn’t let go of your arm.

Sam was swaying on his feet, an exhaustion you recognized all too well. But there was a confusion in his eyes too, like he couldn’t quite put together the hundred plus years of memories that were bombarding him.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, and Dean’s hand holding you back was killing you.

It was also bringing back memories of things you would rather forget…

Lucifer was torturing Sam again. You couldn’t force yourself to look this time—you didn’t want to know. You were tired of seeing it. And you were scared; you were always so scared.

But you did try to go to him. Over and over, every time Sam screamed in pain, you tried to go to him, but every time Lucifer used his grace to slam you back against the metal bars of the cage. It used to hurt—sometimes he would slam you so hard that something would break—but you were so used to pain that you could barely feel the little things anymore.

You were whimpering as you tried futilely to fight off the grace. You wanted to call out to Sam, but you couldn’t get your mouth to form around the words—you’d been too scared to speak for what felt like decades.

“You’re done!” Lucifer announced cheerily, wiping blood off his hands and turning away from Sam, who was curled in on himself in the corner of the cage. You couldn’t tell where the blood and beaten skin ended and the protruding bone began.

You tried again to go to your hurting big brother, but Lucifer slammed you back down again.

“I said he was done; now it’s your turn, little thing.”

“Not doing so well, are you Sam?” Castiel’s condescending voice as he turned to Sam brought you back to the moment.

“I’m fine,” Sam lied, swallowing hard and glancing at Dean. “I’m fine.” He didn’t direct it at you—the two of you had made a pact decades ago in the cage that you would never lie to each other. Not that Dean believed Sam, anyway.

“You said you would fix him, you promised!” Dean thundered, and you flinched.

“IF—“ Castiel cut in. “You stood down, which you hardly did.” Dean and Cas were having a stare-off, Dean unable to believe Cas’s betrayal. But you couldn’t take your eyes off Sam.

“Be thankful for my mercy,” Cas directed at Sam. “I could’ve cast you back in the pit.” His eyes on you finally pulled your attention from Sam, and the coldness you saw there had you shivering, suddenly thankful for Dean’s hand on your arm—a reminder that he was there. “Both of you,” Cas added.

“Cas, c’mon, this is nuts!” Dean was saying, but you couldn’t listen anymore. The fear in Sam’s eyes at Cas’s words had you more desperate than ever, and with Dean distracted you had a chance.

You broke free of Dean’s hold and made a run for Sam. You passed directly in front of Cas, and you saw his eyes flash in anger and surprise, raising a hand—whether to hit you or smite your or blast you away, you had no idea—but he held it there, waiting to see what foolish move you were making.

You reached Sam unscathed and grabbed hold of his arm, your fingers seeking out his hand. Once his giant hand was around yours, you squeezed his hand twice.

Some of the confusion in Sam’s eyes faded, and his eyes met yours with a horror that you’d gotten used to seeing.

…

Your hand squeezing Sam’s seemed to knock around some of his jumbled memories in the right order, and suddenly he was able to grab onto a single memory.

Lucifer was torturing you. After months—or years, Sam couldn’t tell anymore—of being too petrified to speak, you had finally gotten up the courage to have a whispered conversation with Sam while Lucifer was yelling at Michael about something.

The worst part was, Sam couldn’t remember what the two of you had said—all he knew is that eventually Lucifer picked up on the quiet conversation, and he had decided that “the trash was making too much noise.”

He had grabbed you by the neck—you were already a whimpering mess by the time he reached you, because you were well acquainted with the fact that Lucifer’s attention on you meant pain—and Sam had tried to stop him, tried to convince Lucifer that it was Sam’s fault, not yours, that his conversation had been interrupted.

Lucifer didn’t listen—he never did. He’d selected his victim, and he never changed his mind.

When Lucifer finally finished with you, he’d thrown you against the wall by Sam. Sam crawled over to you, careful not to make any noise.

He couldn’t ask if you were ok; he knew the answer anyway. The two of you were too scared to make any noise at all. So instead, Sam reached out his hand and wrapped it around yours, squeezing once—not too hard. The two of you needed gentle touches. Your tearful eyes met his, and he felt it; two squeezes—your response to him.

It didn’t really have one meaning; it wasn’t an “I’m fine” or “you’re ok” or even an “I’m here for you” or “things will get better.” The two of you knew you weren’t fine, you knew it would never get better in the cage, and you knew you had no choice but to be there together. But it was grounding; it was reassuring, it was whatever you needed it to be. It was “I know it hurts,” it was “I love you,” it was “I feel your pain,” it was “I’m sorry,” it was “no matter what, we go through this pain together.”

And that became your new language.

Sam blinked, bringing himself back to the moment. Your hand was still in his, and you were staring up at him, completely ignoring Castiel’s icy gaze as you waited for Sam to gather his thoughts. He looked down at your little hand gripped in his.

And he squeezed it back gently.

“You’re brave for someone too scared to speak,” Castiel cut in.

Sam’s eyes flashed to Cas. He seemed to debate within himself before speaking. “Leave her alone!”

You recognized the fear in his eyes—standing up for each other had turned out painful in the past; but Cas wasn’t like Lucifer. You hoped.

“I hope for your sake,” Cas began, turning his attention back to Dean, seeming to ignore Sam’s words. “That you never see me again.”

And he was gone.

“Hey.” Dean was by Sam’s side in an instant. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Sam lied again. “So um…what now?”

…

The four of you went back to Bobby’s to “regroup,” as if there was anything you could do to stop Cas.

“You two need to get some sleep,” Dean directed to you and Sam. “You guys look like crap.”

You met Sam’s eye, and he looked just as wary as you.

“What?” Dean demanded. “You guys look like you’re having a psychic conversation. I know something wrong, I’m not blind.”

“Nothing,” Sam mumbled. “It’s nothing.” He couldn’t tell Dean. He couldn’t talk about it. Neither of you were able to think about sleep without thinking about the countless times that you’d been woken up by unspeakable torture over the last hundred years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you fell asleep that wasn’t just you collapsing from exhaustion despite your fight to stay awake, and it always ended the same way; vulnerability was met with punishment.

“Alright then.” Dean looked annoyed, but he dropped it. “Well, I’m hittin the hey. Goodnight.”

Once Dean was gone, Sam and you just looked at each other.

“We’re safe now,” Sam began slowly. “I…I guess we should try—“

“I don’t wanna be alone,” you whimpered, coming closer to Sam.

“Hey, hey.” Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze, but you didn���t squeeze back yet. “I’m not gonna leave you alone. We can share Bobby’s guest room, ok?”

You just looked up at Sam, opening your mouth, then closing it.

“I know you don’t think you can sleep,” Sam said, reading your eyes. “I…I don’t think I can either. But we gotta try to…to go back to normal.”

“I don’t…” you swallowed. “I can’t—“

“I know,” Sam sighed. “I don’t think I know what normal is anymore either. But let’s figure it out together, ok?”

You nodded firmly and looked down at your hand in Sam’s.

And squeezed it twice.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Melted

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): smut :))

Notes: Writing this in honor of the 105 degree heat I had to endure a week ago. Also Fierce might be a bit OOC but I want my sexy daddy rn

Masterlist

It was so damn hot.

Blistering heat swept across your skin, practically glowing from the thin layer of sweat, and you sat on the porch and considered your life choices. It was just your luck that your AC decided to die on you in the dead of summer, which is why you were outside in some booty shorts and a bikini top, hair up and popsicle practically down your throat.

"Jewel?" A voice rumbled from the depths of your home, and the Fierce Deity stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking under his impressive bulk. He stopped short as soon as he caught sight of you, eyes wide with some unidentifiable emotion that you were positive had to do something with your current state of (un)dress. Not that you were particularly impressed when you caught sight of his fashion choices.

"Okay, I know you're a god, but how can you wear that," you gestured incredulously to the full set of armor he was sporting. "Why can't you melt like the rest of us?"

The deity gave a short laugh, moving to sit beside you. "I was not aware you would prefer that, though perhaps I can offer an..." his tone deepened. "alternative."

You raised an eyebrow and delivered a sharp, slurp-y suck to your popsicle. There was no way in hell you were going to fuck in this heat, not when you were positive a warm breeze would send you into cardiac arrest. "Nice try, but I fancy my life."

For a second, you could have sworn his expression turned pouty, but it was quickly replaced with a small grin. It was rare to see him so... carefree (even if he was hinting to having sex on the hottest fucking day of the year), and you almost felt inclined to humor him. Almost.

"Of course, but I have taken the liberty of exploring your territory," back was the feral glint in his pupil-less eyes. "are you aware of the springs on the eastern border?"

Aside from the fact that he talked like everything was a military campaign, he did have a point. The only problem was that the neighboring children didn't consider your 'territory' as private as he did, and you had no doubt they were there now. "Thanks, but I don't feel like exposing myself to a bunch of children," you snarked, finishing off your popsicle with one last hearty slurp, blind to how the deity's eyes immediately snapped to watch the spectacle with rapt attention. "Now, we could fill my bathtub with ice cubes, but I doubt you'll fit."

"Inconceivable," was Fierce's deadpan response, and you wondered if letting him watch The Princess Bride was a bad idea.

"Exactly," you flicked the wooden stick into the trashcan and wobbled to your feet. "Welp, I'm going to get naked and hope my skin peels off so I can be cool."

It was almost funny how alarmed he looked at your statement. "You will do nothing of the sort, my vow—"

"It's a joke, it's a joke!" you interjected before he could go all guard dog on you. "The heat's not doing any favors to either of us right now."

A hand sealed itself over your wrist, preventing you from stumbling inside like you hoped. You raised your eyebrow at the deity currently holding you captive, waiting to see if he would explain himself or if it was time for you break out the mom(tm) voice again.

"You need not worry about the children, they would not dare disturb you in my presence."

Of course he had threatened the children. It was to be expected that, whether intentional or not, the Fierce Deity was an imposing figure, and you had no doubt that it had taken nary a cold glance to send those poor kids running for the hills. You pinched your temples with your free hand at the very thought of another encounter with the HOA on the basis of the seven foot deity stalking your land at night. "Oh my god, please tell me you didn't chase them out."

"I did not have to," intoned the deity, as if that made it any better. "They left as soon as the leader caught sight of me."

And by 'left', you just knew he meant 'ran screaming for the hills'. "Fierce..."

"That is my name."

You deadpanned. "No shit, Sherlock."

"That is... not my name."

You were done. Tugging halfhearted in his hold, you whined. "C'mon man, it's too hot for this—"

Without warning, the Fierce Deity rose to his feet, practically casting a shadow over your sweltering form, and hoisted you, butt first, over his shoulder in one quick motion. You gasped in outrage, fists banging on the back of his armor, which did no damage whatsoever. "H-Hey! Put me down!"

Was this really happening? You were half-convinced a fever dream had taken hold of your sanity, because while Fierce was, well, fierce, he definitely wasn't the type to throw you down somewhere and make love to you... or was he? You could count the number of 'encounters' you'd had with the deity on one hand, as you relationship hadn't developed in that way until recently, and he had always waited for you to initiate, though you weren't dense enough to miss the way he glanced back at you with an expression with absolute want. Clearly, this display was him coming out of his metaphorical shell, and you were so here for it. Not that you weren't going to give him a run for his money first.

"Fierce!" You kicked your feet, though they didn't go far with the protective arm slung over the backs of your thighs. "Fierce, are you listening?"

"No," responded the deity honestly. "You would have used the phrase if you truly wanted me to stop."

Fuck, he had you there. You had been the one to suggest a safe word in the early hours of your newfound 'relationship', and Fierce quickly agreed. Though the word 'vow' had entered the conversation, it was quickly shot down, with the deity explaining that his vow to you was a sacred, unbreakable thing, and he had no wish to sully it. You were fairly sure him fucking your brains out wouldn't do that, but relented quickly when you realized just how serious he was.

"That doesn't mean I can't be annoyed with you," you snarked, though it was more playful than anything. Your house had long since disappeared as you traveled further into the forest, though it was hard to tell just how far he had taken you.

"That is why I shall never cease to adore you."

"I, what—" You squawked in abject embarrassment despite the fact that you had seen each other naked multiple times. "Y-You can't just say stuff out of the blue like that!"

"Inconceivable," came the second movie reference of the day. "I would never utter an untruth to you."

The fuck? Sure, he liked call you his treasure when he was balls deep, and there was no shortage of affection from him when you found yourself alone together, but you'd hardly expected such a stoic man to... well, it was as if he was trying to fluster you!

And, by god, was it working. Heat rushed through every part of your body at the thought of him taking control for the first time in, well, forever. Initiating was your thing, but now...

With a face redder than a beet, you muttered. "You better carry me back, dick."

You yelped when something distinctly close to a hand came down on your left ass cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but it got your attention all the same. "I intend to," came the deity's smug promise as you grappled with the fact that he had just smacked your ass.

Before you could muster a response to the insanity that had just occurred, Fierce pushed past a gaggle of branches--making sure they didn't smack you in the process, which was honestly the sweetest--and marched into the clearing where the hot springs resided. You waited patiently for him to set you down, regarding the bubbling spring with thoughtful consideration. The water was cool, that much you were sure of, and the area was blissfully empty of squawking children.

"...You may be on to something here."

A chuckle rumbled from Fierce's mouth, and he began to remove his armor. You froze as his breastplate and tunic came off, revealing miles of battle-scarred skin, glistening temptingly in the blazing sun, then scrambled to remove your shorts the second he undid his belt, because damn if you weren't going to get a piece of that. "You're such a bad influence," you teased, tossing your shorts to the way side as his leggings flew to the ground below. While you had the foresight to put on a pair of swim bottoms, the deity had done no such thing, standing naked before you without a care in the world. You were glad to see him so confident, even though it was wholeheartedly unexpected. "Scaring kids so we can play hooky."

But Fierce wasn't fazed, marching forward to scoop you up once again. You laughed in surprise, arms falling around his neck, legs wrapped around his very naked waist, as an arm came under your ass to support you. "I live to serve," rumbled the deity softly, and you pecked his lips with a cheeky grin.

"I know."

You giggled when he entered the spring, tall enough that no water reached you for a few steps. You wiggled out of his grasp as soon as the water touched your bum, paddling away happily in the blissfully chilly spring. The deity made no move to grab you, standing waist-deep with his arms crossed over his delicious chest. You began to tread, swiveling your body to face his. "Isn't it nice?"

Fierce offered you the ghost of a smile, though the softness in his eyes said what he didn't. "It is."

Still treading, you continued: "You know how to swim?"

He nodded, expression flashing to something more grave. "How am I to protect you without?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Chuckling, you paddled back over, leaving a trail of bubbles in your wake, hands outstretched like a child. The Fierce Deity caught you under the arms, pulling you close. His skin was cool, and you snuggled closer, practically purring... until something very familiar poked your prone thigh.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of heat in your abdomen that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you quipped: "Is that a sword or are you just happy to see me?"

Fierce's large hands slid down to cup your rear, covered only by the thin fabric of your swim bottoms. His expression seemed to darken when you arched slightly into his touch

"Fierce..." you breathed, running your hands over his broad shoulders as his hardness slid against your core, and it was then that the deity chose to capture your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you impossibly close. You moaned into his mouth, water rushing past your bare sides as he backed you against a conveniently-placed rock at the edge of the spring. He pressed you to them, deepening the kiss as you pawed at his shoulders.

"--Wait," you all but gasped when he broke the kiss. The Fierce Deity froze, hands stilling. His gaze never left your face, studying your panicked expression as he waited for you to speak. "--What if someone sees?"

A hand came up to stroke your cheek, tender enough that you scarcely believed it had happened in the first place. "No one shall disturb us," your deity soothed, but you knew that if you truly wished it, he would stop without so much as a complain. It was simply how he was.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, averting your eyes for a split second. It wasn't that you didn't believe him, but there was something so taboo about enjoying each other in such a public space. Gaze flitting back to him, you whispered: "...Promise?"

"I vow it," was his response, so sincere that you could have cried. Heart swelling, you gave a shy nod and pulled him in for another blistering kiss. The Fierce Deity's reaction was slow, but purposeful, as his hands stroked up and down your sides, eventually sliding upwards to hold your cheeks. Your legs tightened around his waist, bringing you impossibly closer to his rock hard dick. You broke the kiss, offering him a small, cheeky grin that coincided perfectly with the slow roll of your hips. The tips of the deity's ears pinked and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "I guess you are excited to see me."

Instead of responding, he dove for your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point gently. You whimpered, chin tilting up for better access. His hands roamed back down to your sides, noticeably cautious, and you realized why when they cupped your breasts, thumbs stroking your pebbled nipples through your bikini top.

"Fierce!" You quivered as his tongue lathed over your neck, peppering the trembling skin with featherlight kisses. It didn't matter that you had done this before--it was amazing every time. He tweaked a nipple carefully and you broke. "Ah!"

Your hands grabbed hold of his stark white hair, tugging softly as you struggled to contain yourself. Your back arched when one of his hands slid across your spine to untie your top, tossing it aside as soon as the fabric slackened enough to be pulled off, baring your breasts to the open air. You shivered, half from the chill and half from the intensity of his stare, as though he would never get tired of you.

Almost reverently, the Fierce Deity dipped his head, taking a nipple in his hot mouth. You threw your head back when he rolled the other one between two thick fingers, plucking the tender bud hard enough to make you squeal. His gaze snapped to your face, drinking in every single one of your reactions with such a starstruck glint in his eyes that you could hardly stand to hold his burning look.

"Please," you whimpered, unsure of what you were actually asking for. Maybe it was his body, pressed closer than you could ever imagine, or maybe it was his soul, practically cradled in the palm of your hand. You felt as though would die for those eyes, gazing up at you with more emotion than you knew what to do with. "Fierce..."

Maybe it was the way you said his name, or the way you looked above him, face flushed a deep cherry as you panted for breath, but the Fierce Deity released your nipple to press a sweet kiss to the top of your left breast, directly over your beating heart. A soft gasp left you when his hands cupped your ass and he lifted you onto the rock, laying you down like you were the deity in this relationship.

You craned your neck to watch him settle between your legs, face to face with your undoubtedly soaked swim bottoms. Calloused hands stroked your hips, but Fierce didn't go further, staring at you with a questioning gaze. The tips of his fingers grazed the waistband, and his voice practically rumbled through you.

"May I?"

It warmed your heart that, even now, he was still this soft, this gentle with you, always asking before going further. Every one of his touches was a question that you were all too eager to answer, practically trembling with anticipation. "Go ahead," you whispered, shooting him a dazzling smile. Your swim bottoms were abruptly removed, but you didn't find it in yourself to care when his mouth immediately sealed over your throbbing pussy, delivering a strong suck that had you clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises. A sort of growl reverberated through you and the Fierce Deity was immediately above you, gently removing your hand and pinning it to the stone with his own. The head of his dick pulsed against your entrance, but you weren't able to appreciate it when your chin was abruptly grabbed.

"No," rumbled the deity in a tone that reminded you of the distant crack of thunder, so close that you could feel his breath against your face. "I want to hear you."

You could have cum at that very moment.

Holy. Shit.

You could only manage a wobbly nod, jaw nearly at the floor, and he scooted back down, giving you a pointed look before lacing your fingers with his, holding your hands at your stomach as he reacquainted himself with your swollen clit, suckling the throbbing bud with enough force to make you moan louder that you had in your life. After a few seconds, he pulled back, tongue flicked against the small nub before he dover down to absolutely devour your dripping cunt. Your hips attempted to buck at the overwhelming pleasure, but they didn't go far with your arms in the way. You yelped as that godly tongue licked a stripe from base to clit, then diving down do slurp at the slick of your entrance. If there was any hope of you holding your moans back before, there certainly wasn't now, even as you twisted and shivered. Even so, there was no reprieve from that glorious mouth of his as he chased your every which way, rumbling lowly against your lips when you moved a bit too harshly.

"Fuck, Fierce–" you wailed as the coil in your belly tightened more and more, drawing you closer to the precipice of orgasm than you thought possible. it was all too obvious that he definitely wasn't human, and you were living for it. "Oh god, I'm going to–"

You finished the sentence with a shrill cry when he released one of your hands to push two thick fingers into your pussy, crooking at just the right angle that–paired with the sharp, all-consuming suck he delivered to your clit–made you quite literally see stars as your orgasm crashed into you like a speeding train. Your body shook, back arching with wild abandon, as you screamed your release to the bright, blue sky, too far gone to care whether anyone saw you or not.

Fierce released you when the tremors stopped, removing his fingers from your overstimulated cunt, though it wasn't for long, as he had you in his arms before your knees could drop from their folded position, cradling you to his naked chest as he made his way to shore, carefully sitting against a stone beside the bank with you in his lap, head buried in the center of his chest.

"Are you alright?" came his concerned rumble, and you couldn't help but chuckle, lifting your head to deliver a swift kiss to his chin.

"Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?" you asked softly, pushing some hair from your sweaty forehead.

"Many times," answered the deity with a small smile, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He tasted sweet, a bit musky, and you couldn't imagine anything better... until you registered the pulsing penis–large and thick, wreathed in trimmed white hair that most definitely matched the drapes–settled against your aching cunt. It was sweet that he was giving you time to recover, but you wanted that in you now.

"Fierce," you moaned, rocking your hips slowly into his dick. A soft groan was your answer, and his hands were at your hips, guiding you up. Panting, you took him in hand, bringing the tip to rest snuggly between your drooling folds, angling yourself to that the appendage brushed heavily against the base of your clit, eliciting a shiver and moan.

Something dark glinted in the deity's stark eyes for a split second, but you didn't dwell on it when he began to push you down on his cock; slowly, as to not harm you, but there was definitely an insistent edge to his guidance that you couldn't help but notice. That, combined with the subtle clenching of his jaw, was all you needed to know on the subject. Gathering your strength, you sealed your hands on his shoulders and slid all the way down in one fell swoop, drawing a surprised gasp of your name from Fierce himself. You knew he wasn't much of a talker during sex, which was why moments like this were so damn delicious.

Gathering your strength, you began to bounce with reckless abandon, drawing more grunts from your lover as he grappled with the newfound pleasure. He always did what was good for you, which made returning the favor all the more overdue.

"Does that– huff, feel good?" You asked between bounces, making sure your grin was as cheeky as could be, reaching up to grasp handfuls of his hair. You tugged gently, forcing him to bend down for a sweet, sweet kiss. His hands tightened on your hips, but no move was made to restrain you, so you continued like your life depended on it, moaning softly as the head of his dick caressed that spongey spot within you with every swooping thrust. "You're always– haa, fuck, doing things for me, s-so I'm going to return the–...ohhh god, favor."

Time seemed to meld together when he kissed you, tongues swirling together in a dance only known to the two of you. The Fierce Deity wasn't a man of many words, but you felt his devotion in the way he pulled you close, his desire as his hand snaked down to play with your swollen bud of a clit, and his love in the way he looked at you with absolute, unadulterated adoration.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were in love with Fierce , which is why you reached beneath you to fondle his balls, large and heavy, in a featherlight caress, drawing another half-moan from the depths of his throat. You joined the chorus when the coil in your abdomen began to tighten once again under his careful ministrations. Your hips and thighs burned as you struggled to keep pace, huffing and puffing as determination flashed in your eyes. he did so much for you, so how could you not return–

As if on cue, Fierce's hands returned to the sides of your hips, gripping your love handles with a conviction. His legs, once straight, curved as he planted his feet on the ground and delivered a harsh thrust into you that had you screaming like a maniac. Over and over, he pounded into your poor pussy, rocking your very soul as you fought for stability, arching your chest into his own, which he told advantage of in the form of his mouth closing in on a bobbing nipple, sucking deftly as he practically hollowed you from the inside out. A myriad of whimpers left your throat, raw from all the yelling, but there was nothing you could do but scratch your nails down his biceps, crying your pleasure to the sky above.

It was then that your climax hit you with the force of a tsunami. You threw your head back with a half-sob when he slammed your hips to his own, holding you in place as you thrashed and babbled in overwhelming pleasure, eventually wandering up to control your upper body so he could press gentle kisses and bites onto your tender flesh. One thrust later and scalding cum filled your overstimulated, drooling pussy, but you were far too gone to react with anything other than a soft moan.

Exhausted, you allowed yourself to fall back into his chest, heaving with exertion. The Fierce Deity held you close, and you simply existed there for a few precious moments, drinking in each other's presence. It was only when his hands stroked over your spine, eliciting several shivers, did you find your voice again.

"W-Wait, I need a–" you tried to sit up–mildly panicked at the thought of him wanting to go again–but a gentle hand kept you down. "–I need a break."

"I know," came your lover's comforting rumble. He sounded weary, but you knew it wouldn't last; he was a god, after all. "How do you feel?"

"Fucked," you snarked tiredly, earning yourself a tender swat to the ass that felt more like a caress than anything. "I'm joking– I'm tired."

"I can tell," sneered the deity, hands coming under your armpits. You did your best impression of a rag doll as he lifted you off his massive dick, standing up and cuddling your prone form to his chest. You loosely wrapped an arm around his thick neck, black spots dancing in your vision when he bent to retrieve his clothes and yours. "Sleep, my dove."

And who were you to refuse? With a sleepy rumble, you pecked his shoulder once more and allowed sleep to take you.

The next morning, there was a note on your front door.

You had awoken in your bedroom, satisfyingly sore, to one of Wild's patented omelets on your nightstand. You grabbed the accompanying fork and ate the still warm creation before traipsing down the stares to greet the boys, though not before exchanging the large tunic placed over you for some regular clothes, because while you loved wearing Fierce's clothes, you had some sense when it came to the other men in the house knowing of your... escapades with the deity, who was nowhere to be found. Time informed you that he was 'out', which was code for 'likely doing something illegal because no one wanted to fight him', but it was far too early to deal with whatever bullshit that scenario would bring.

You saw the note–which was really just a sad piece of notebook paper taped to the center of your door–after getting the mail. Puzzled, you retrieved it, tucked the mail under your arm, and nearly dropped everything when you read the blasted thing.

It was a note from your neighbor, Cindy, a middle-aged woman with either two or three kids–you had fallen out with her after she caught the Fierce Deity stalking over her property line in the dead of night–informing you that your guard dog had struck once again and she was calling the police if she saw his 'satanic cosplayer ass' again.

After taking a moment to gather your bearings–and once again contemplate the insanity your life had become, you crumpled the note, opened your mouth, and bellowed: "FIERCE DEITY!"

That's a wrap! I hope y'all enjoyed the product of my conversation with @h4wari. I'll do edits tomorrow so feast on this unedited sin.

Tag List:

@ash-staff

[chickenlizard13]

All You’ve Done

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 12790

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Like a hint of spice

Description: Buckle up kids. This got waaaaayyy longer than I’d planned, and I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the story. I envision Ominis’s wand working like a topographical map, kind of like Toph in Avatar The Last Airbender. Anyway, mainly follows Sebastian’s quest line.

“You got a staring problem?”

You were violently ripped from your thoughts by a low angry voice. Tearing your eyes from the other side of the room, you look up at the boy glaring at you from the end of the table. Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head in challenge, eyebrows rising. “Excuse you?”

You watch his hackles rise and his scowl deepen, before letting out an irritated huff. “I asked if you have a fucking staring problem.”

You give him a once over, trying to figure out where you’d seen him before. You vaguely remember dueling him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but were struggling to produce his name. He was in Slytherin, and you were pretty sure he had an interesting reputation, but that was all you knew at the moment.

You’d met so many people in your first few days here, who could really blame you for blanking on a name? Squinting harder, you looked at the smattering of freckles across his face and wild brunette locks, hoping they’d trigger your memory. He bristled at your intense gaze, mistaking your concentration for hostility, and refused to back down.

Bringing your hand up, you repeatedly tapped the center of your forehead with your index finger, trying to summon his name to your mind. S something. Ssss-tanley. Steven. Sylis?

He’d started to fidget at your odd behavior, eyes darting questioningly to Natty as she sat beside you. Natty had seen you do this before, and laughed at Sebastian’s bewildered look, telling him to give you a moment.

“Sebastian!” You snap your fingers and point at him with a triumphant look on your face. “I’m sorry, uh, what did you want again?”

Suddenly remembering why he’d approached you in the first place, his face darkened once more. Leaning down, he gets right in your face, blocking your line of sight from your previous fixation. “You’ve been staring at Ominis for a particularly long time, and I’d like to know why.” You return his scowl and roll your eyes at his aggressive display.

“Don’t see why it’s any of your business, freckles. Can’t someone just enjoy the view in peace?” Your dismissive tone does little to dissuade him. Sebastian narrows his eyes, and doesn’t budge.

“I would think twice about messing with Ominis, if I were you. House Slytherin is not an enemy you want.” Rolling your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh and stand up, brushing past him. You ignore his irritated calls, striding towards the blonde’s table. Ominis sat hunched over, frustratedly staring at the leaves in his hands. You purposefully make a noisy approach, so as not to spook the blind boy with your presence. Stopping next to his chair, you take a breath before you speak.

“Hello.”

Ominis slowly raises his head and does his best to look in your general direction, the look of frustration staying on his face. “...Hello. Can I help you?”

You smile at the warry tone and attempt to make your voice as sincere as possible. “I noticed you’ve been staring at these leaves for quite awhile. I was wondering if you’d want some help with…whatever, it is you’re doing?”

A look of indignation crosses his features and he sticks his nose up at you. “I don’t need anything, thank you very much. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean that I’m incapable.”

Merlin’s beard, Slytherin boys were a prickly bunch. Sighing tiredly, you consider just turning around and walking away, but instead cross your arms and lean your hip against the table.

“I didn’t ask if you NEED any help. I asked you if you WANT any help. It’s fine if you don’t, but you’ve been sitting here fondling leaves for the better part of an hour. I assumed the wrinkle in your forehead would become permanent if I didn’t put you out of your misery. I see that I was mistaken” Without waiting for a response you turn to leave, only taking a few steps before he calls out to you.

“Wait.” You stop and turn, raising an eyebrow expectantly even though he can’t see it. He shuffles his feet and looks down at the floor, mumbling begrudgingly. “I have to write 5 inches on the medicinal and physical differences between Mallowsweet and Dittany for Herbology, and I’m having trouble with the physical portion. Someone was supposed to be here half an hour ago to help, but he still hasn’t shown up.”

Gazing over your shoulder, you could see the smoke coming out of Sebastian’s ears as he scowled at you. Natty hid an amused smile behind her hand, eyes darting between the both of you. Taunting him, you give him a wink and a sly smirk, resisting the urge to chuckle as you hear him curse you out from across the room.

Facing Ominis, you sit on the table and put your feet on the chair next to him. “So, Dittany grows on long stalks, ending in bright pink flowers. The leaves are smooth, and more circular, than Mallowsweet.” His attention had been drawn away, as he’d no doubt heard Sebastian’s string of expletives across the room, but swung his head in your direction as you spoke.

Grabbing a Dittany leaf, you gently take his wrist, ignoring the way he stiffens at the contact. You place the leaf in his hand, letting him feel the edges for a moment before moving on.

“Mallowsweet on the other hand, ends in a point and has small ridges along the edge. The leaves progressively become more yellow, the closer they get to the cluster of orange flowers at the top. Unlike Dittany, Mallowsweet grows in short clumps, the stalks close together.” You pick up a Mallowsweet leaf and tap the back of his other hand with your knuckle, signaling that he should turn his palm over for the second leaf. He does so willingly, and takes a second to feel both leaves simultaneously.

This whole time you’d been focused on describing the leaves as accurately as possible, and only now turned your gaze to his face. He seemed to be deep in thought, features unreadable, his eyes pointedly turned toward his hands.

He turned his face towards you and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Sebastian's untimely arrival. “And what is going on over here?”

Apparently he’d had enough of watching from afar and decided to make himself known. You rolled your eyes at him once more and hopped down from the edge of the table. “Oh, there he is, you’re late. Just a little homework help, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You could hear Sebastian grumbling about how he doesn’t wear panties as you walked away. What you didn’t see was Ominis grabbing his wand and pointing it in your direction, trying to discern any identifying features from your retreating figure.

__________________

The next few weeks flew by as you dove head first into your classes, doing your best to catch up to your fellow fifth years, as per Professor Weasley’s expectations.

You were in the middle of Potions class, finishing up your Wiggenweld brew, when Professor Sharp walked up behind you quietly. Corking the bottle, you turn and face him, silently handing him the potion with a pleased smile. He took the vial just as silently and inspected it thoroughly, examining the liquid and smelling the contents. Grunting in approval, he replaced the cork and handed it back to you. “Impressive. Wiggenweld is not an easy potion, and you’ve executed it exceptionally well.”

Your smile grows a bit as you thank him for his kind words. He gestures for you to follow him back to his desk with a slight nod of his head. The two of you make your way over, and you stop at the front, as he circles around to stand behind his chair. “Professor Weasley has asked me to give you extra assignments to help you catch up with the rest of the fifth years. I’d like you to try your hand at the Edurus potion. You can find the ingredients in my office. You may use them for today, but you will be expected to provide your own in the future. We’ll see if your Wiggenweld was actual skill, or just pure luck.”

You smile as you thank him again, making your way to his office. As you walk over, you can see Garreth Weasley lurking conspicuously by the door. There’d been many a conversation in the halls about Garreth’s failed brews, and how he often roped unsuspecting students into his schemes. Uninterested in being involved, you did your best to avoid eye contact, walking quickly to the office door. Before you could escape, he stopped you, a mischievous smile lighting up his face as he spoke your name. “Did I hear correctly that you’ve gotten permission to go into Sharp’s office?”

Groaning internally, you close your eyes before turning to face him. “Yes, Garreth. Why do you want to know?”

His eyes grew bigger as the mischief turned to giddy excitement. “That’s great! How would you like to be part of something truly spectacular? I’m working on a new potion, and there’s just one final ingredient before it’s finished!” You open your mouth to deny his request, but he continues without letting you get a word out. “What is this ingredient you may ask? A Fwooper feather! Sharp has one in his office, and it would be a great help if you could grab it for me while you're there.”

Shaking your head, you let out a large sigh before looking him in the eyes. “Garreth, I’m not stealing from Professor Sharp for you.” Garreth began waving his hands back and forth frantically, a panicked look on his face.

“No, no, no, listen. It’ll be fine! Fwooper feathers aren’t THAT valuable. He won’t even miss it! Please, do this for me? Just this once, I swear!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you regarded the red head. He was pouting, giving you the biggest puppy eyes you’d ever seen. It was tempting to just give in and get him the feather, if only to spare you the crocodile tears. Ultimately, you decided that you’d rather stay on Sharp’s good side, and that Garreth should really focus on actually learning to brew potions instead of his semi dangerous concoctions.

“Look, Garreth. I can appreciate your…creative vision, but I am not willing to compromise my current standing in Professor Sharp’s good graces. You’re going to have to find another way to get that Fwooper feather.” You turn to continue your way into the office and feel a hand grab your sleeve.

“Wait! I promise you won’t get in trouble! I just really need-” You gave him a stern glare and whirled on him.

“Garreth. I will not be pressured into doing something I don’t want to. I’m all for breaking some rules every now and then, but stealing from a professor I respect and want to learn from, is not something I’m willing to do at this juncture. Please, drop it.” Unprepared for your ire, Garreth took a step back in shock, before slinking away in dejection. You felt a little bad, but it was for his own good. It would serve him to be told no every once in a while.

Quickly gathering the ingredients, you start walking back to your potions table, having spent way too much class time arguing with Garreth. You passed behind Ominis sitting at his own station, still trying to perfect his Wiggenweld, when he accidently knocked his wand off the counter. It hit the floor with a small clunk, and Ominis scrunched his eyebrows together, leaning down to retrieve it.

He must have misjudged where the counter started, and was about to put his whole hand into his scalding potion pot. Before you could think, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it away from the cauldron, burning the back of your hand on the lip.

You immediately went to apologize for grabbing him so suddenly, when he ripped his wrist from your grasp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Opening your mouth, you attempt to explain what happened. Ominis heard none of it and continued to yell, drawing the attention of the rest of the class.

“You think it’s funny to just grab someone like that?! You’ve got some fucking nerve-” You caught Sebastian stalking over out of the corner of your eye, a dark look on his face. The entire class was giving this spectacle their undivided attention, heaven forbid you had one uneventful potions class. Wanting nothing more than to finish this potion and leave, you interrupt Ominis as he accuses you of purposefully knocking his wand over.

“Ominis.” Upon hearing your voice, he clamps his mouth shut, a look of surprise and something else crossing his face. Sebastian comes to a halt next to you, teeth bared, but you ignore him and continue talking.

“You were about to put your hand into your boiling cauldron. I didn’t think that you’d particularly want to take a trip to the Hospital Wing today. I apologize for startling you.” Picking up his wand, you place it carefully onto the table, still within arms reach, but far enough that it won’t fall again. Sebastian bashfully scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment, as you brushed past him. Ignoring the stares of your classmates, you quietly brewed the Edurus potion, face carefully neutral.

Upon finishing, you brought it over to Professor Sharp. He gave it the same level of scrutiny he’d given your Wiggenweld, grunting in approval when it was up to his standards. You turned to follow the other students out of the room, when you heard Professor Sharp clear his throat. “I appreciate you denying Mr. Weasley’s request earlier, not many are able to resist his particular brand of...persuasion. He would do well to focus on actual potions while he’s still a student.” Letting out an amused huff at what he meant by ‘persuasion’, you bid him goodbye, continuing on with the rest of your classes.

——————————————-

You hated that you had to ask Sebastian for help. The smug satisfaction ever present on his face as you snuck through the Restricted Section, searching for any wisps of ancient magic. He’d been needling you endlessly about what you were after, but you successfully evaded his questioning each time.

Sebastian was too busy trying to annoy an answer out of you to notice Peeves popping out of a bookshelf, threatening to tell the librarian about your late night escapades. Fearing the consequences awaiting you if you were caught, you allowed the familiar pull of ancient magic to guide your wand. A book flew off the shelf, opening on its own, hovering before you. Peeves started floating away, taunting Sebastian with your impending detention, when your wand pulsed and dragged Peeves screaming into the pages. The book snapped shut and shuddered once, before calmly putting itself back on the shelf.

The both of you blinked at the shelf silently, holding your breath, before staring blankly at each other. Sebastian opened his mouth to ask, closing it as you held up a hand, shaking your head. You turn away from him, sensing that you needed to travel deeper into the Restricted Section, knowing he couldn’t come along.

“Well, it looks like you have free reign of the Restricted Section this evening. You can poke around to your heart's content.” He looked at you quizzically as you started heading down the stairs leading deeper below the school.

“You’re going alone? Why can’t I come? What about Peeves?” You stop and give him a gentle smile over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry about Peeves. He’ll find his way out.” Probably.

You turn to face him fully on the stairs, your smile widening. “I figured you’d want a free evening to peruse the books, uninhibited. Don’t worry about me. Thank you for getting me this far. It wasn’t completely terrible.”

He gave you a wide, boyish grin. “I think I miss judged you.” He gave you a parting wave, before sneaking off to bury himself in as many illicit tomes as possible. Smiling to yourself, you continue your way downwards, excited to discover what secrets lay so far beneath Hogwarts.

—————————————

After your jaunt through the library, you discovered that you rather enjoyed Sebastian’s company. Contrary to your first impression, he actually had a working brain between those ears, and he knew how to use it. Your friendship slowly grew over the passing weeks, until finally, he sent you an owl requesting your presence in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

Meeting him late that night, he shared with you his dearly kept secret, known only to him, Ominis, and now you. You guessed he still felt a little guilty about his behavior during your early interactions, thus offering the Undercroft in apology. The only stipulation being no one, especially Ominis, would know.

Swearing to guard his secret, you left the Undercroft, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before your morning classes.

As fate would have it, you’re immediately cornered by the last person you wanted to see.

“Hello Sebastian.” Wide eyed, you stare at Ominis, unblinking. Perhaps if you didn’t breathe, he wouldn’t notice you. Instead assuming he’d just missed Sebastian entering the Undercroft.

It would seem that luck had abandoned you, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response. “Hold on. You aren’t Sebastian at all, are you? Did you just come from the Undercroft?!”

Biting your lip, you consider your options. You could always lie, and say you stumbled upon the room by accident. You could come clean, and admit Sebastian’s guilt. You very briefly even considered just making a break for it, praying Ominis wouldn’t catch you. You had no good options, least of all one that would end with the three of you on good terms.

Ominis’s brow twitched impatiently, wand pointed directly at your chest. You supposed that the blonde boy already thought pretty poorly of you, seeing how your previous interaction ended. Why not give him one more reason?

“I…did.” You answered cautiously, unsure where you were going, letting your lips take you.

Ominis’s scowl deepened, a haughty sneer placing itself on his lips. “Sebastian showed you didn’t he? That fool. I can’t believe he would-”

“Relax, Ominis. Sebastian didn’t give up your secret, um…willingly.” What were you saying? What did that even mean? Before you could say anything else, Ominis stopped talking and narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“What do you mean by that.” There was no question in his voice, only a frosty demand. You resisted the shiver tickling at your spine, swallowing the need to take a few steps back.

“I saw Sebastian duck in here earlier and followed him. He- uh, he’s not as sneaky as he thinks.” You had absolutely no control over the words coming out of your mouth. Cringing internally at your horrid acting, you wondered how Ominis hadn’t seen right through you.

“Don’t worry. I promised to keep the Undercroft a secret…for a…a price?” WHAT. Why would you say that? Why would you say that? You watched his chest heave in anger, latching onto the implication of your threat. It seemed he’d rather believe you the villain, than consider his friend's betrayal.

“What. Price.” There was something in his voice that sent a chill through your bones. Something hissed behind his lips, sinister and cold, almost too faint for you to hear. You felt like a rabbit cornered by a cobra, nowhere to go but through him.

Swallowing, you steeled yourself, resolving to end this interaction quickly so you could wallow in self pity from the comfort of your bed. “Nothing much, just a favor. No need to concern yourself over it.” You stupidly give him your back as you slide past, wanting to bolt from this absolute disaster, but forcing your legs to maintain a casual pace.

“If you tell anyone about this place, I will make sure the rest of your time at this school is a living hell. My father is good friends with Professor Black, and I will not hesitate to exploit that connection if I need to. Not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to save you.”

Humming lowly, you continued down the hall without looking back. You could faintly hear Ominis snarl in rage, as he opened the door roughly to question Sebastian. The sound was drowned out by the whirling thoughts in your head. What had you done? You couldn’t have created a bigger mess if you’d tried. There was no way you could come back from this, no way Ominis would want to be anywhere near you. You didn’t even know if you’d be allowed around Sebastian anymore, knowledge of the Undercroft not worth the loss of a new friend.

Resigning yourself to lie in the bed you’d made, your legs trudged the rest of the way to your dorm. Wondering what the morning would have in store.

——————————————-

Whatever had been said that night between the two, Sebastian never brought it up.

Instead, he invited you to Feldcroft to meet his sister, and uncle. Which was a less than pleasant experience, to put it lightly. You would see Ominis around the halls and in classes, but you wouldn’t get much more than a withering glare in your general direction. Sebastian reassured you that he just needed a little time to cool down, but his seemingly permanent scowl lines told a different story.

You took some comfort in knowing that Sebastian and Ominis’s friendship improved greatly, often seeing them walking together between classes. It brought a smile to your face every time Sebastian would wave to you enthusiastically when Ominis wasn’t looking, quickly putting his arm down when the blonde would face his direction. Things continued on like this for a while, settling into this weird passive aggressive routine you weren’t sure how to break.

————————————————-

Ominis was pissed. Ever since the Undercroft, he’d made sure you knew how displeased he was in your presence. He’d spent the rest of that night cursing himself for being so foolish, having believed you to be kind, just as the rest of the student body. After his outburst in potions class, he’d been contemplating ways to apologize, wanting to give you a better impression of him. Not anymore. After that night, he couldn’t even stand to hear your voice.

Your loud laugh would echo through the halls, instantly souring his mood. He questioned Sebastian constantly about the favor he owed you, but was brushed off every time. The brunette remaining tight lipped, telling him not to worry about it. In truth, he really did owe you, for taking the full brunt of Ominis’s wrath. Sebastian planned to come clean once Ominis had settled, but it seemed to be taking longer than expected.

Ominis couldn’t let it go. He began lurking around corners, listening to the whispers of other students. He listened intently for any other favors you were owed, paying particularly close attention to those you’d been seen with frequently. Nothing. All people ever did was sing your praises.

He sat alone on the second floor of the library, hiding between the tall stacks. For once, trying to avoid all human contact, his nerves frayed and mind tired.

Low murmurs were filtering in from the next aisle over. Ominis sat, uninterested, until an unmistakable laugh caught his attention. His ears perked up, instantly recognizing your carefree giggles, followed by Natty’s light scolding to be quiet. Ominis slowly stood from his seat, creeping to stand just around the corner, out of sight but in better ear shot.

Once the giggling from the both of you faded, you stood in comfortable silence, returning your borrowed books to their respective shelves. Standing there, it didn’t seem to Ominis that you were going to say anything more, taking a step away to find another hiding spot. Just as he lifted his foot, Natty’s voice quietly broke your companionable silence.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, my friend.” Her voice was quiet, as to keep her question private, but not quiet enough to escape Ominis’s sharp hearing. You hum in acknowledgement, awaiting Natty’s inquiry.

“What on Earth did you do to piss off Ominis Gaunt so badly?” Natty never minced her words, always opting to get straight to the point, something you truly appreciated about her.

Ominis could hear your breathing stop, before heaving a big sigh and plopping down in a chair. His wand pulsed, and he could tell that you’d put your head in your hands, face directed to the floor.

“You noticed that, huh?”

Natty laughed jovially, ignoring your obvious distress. “Who hasn’t? He certainly isn’t trying to be subtle.”

He could hear you sit back, your voice muffled by the hands covering your face. “…it’s embarrassing.”

Natty nudged you to continue. Sighing, you dropped your arms, hands slapping your thighs loudly. “Sebastian…told me something he shouldn’t have, and the only stipulation was that Ominis wouldn’t find out. Unfortunately, as if by magic, he caught me almost immediately. Which, believe me, was already bad enough, but then I had to make it worse by lying to him.”

Natty hummed, waiting for you to continue. “He was so angry, and I’d just promised Sebastian I’d keep his secret, you know, a secret. We’d just started really being friends and I didn’t want to jeopardize that, so I panicked and just said the first thing that came to mind.”

Natty’s brow lifted. “Which was…?” Your head fell back into your hands, your words becoming slightly muffled.

“I told him that I’d keep their secret for a price. A price, Natty! Like I was some kind of Ashwinder demanding ransom. What the fuck was I thinking?” You groaned, and Natty remained silent as you rambled, the words spilling out of your mouth.

“You don’t understand. He was so scary. I was nearly pissing myself the whole time. It took everything in me to not sprint away. Ranrok’s loyalists have nothing on Ominis when he’s well and truly put out.” You paused briefly to take a breath before charging forward. “I just- I just kept talking. I couldn’t stop. And my acting was so bad. I really don’t understand how he even believed me.”

Natty attempted to hide her smile with her hand. Ominis could vaguely hear you smack her lightly, crying that it wasn’t funny, but his mind was elsewhere.

He suddenly felt very guilty about how he’d treated you that night, now recognizing your obvious discomfort and nervousness. Why had Sebastian let you take the blame for him? Ominis thought back to his boarish behavior the last few weeks, angry at his blatant hostility and lack of attention. If he’d taken a moment to actually consider the situation, he might not have wasted so much energy hating you. He hoped you’d be willing to forgive him, but didn’t have very high hopes.

————————————————-

It took a couple days before Ominis gathered enough courage to approach you, but broke down after hearing you laugh with Sebastian before Potions. You’d noticed his sudden change in behavior, because of course you did. He seemed more withdrawn than normal, barely ever facing your direction. His newfound stoicism had begun to worry you, and asking Sebastian had been no help. He’d simply shrugged and grumbled something about Ominis being too clever for his own good.

Acquiring your extra assignments from Professor Sharp, you headed to the Room of Requirement with your newly rescued beasts, excited to show them their vivarium.

Clearing the classroom threshold, you spotted Ominis, arms crossed, leaning against the wall conspicuously. He’d been avoiding you the last few days, so it was odd to see him openly waiting around. You paused your steps and regarded him. He looked a little worse for wear, but otherwise seemed fine, physically at least. Approaching him cautiously, you stop a healthy distance away. “Hello, Ominis. Did- Did you need something?”

His fingers tighten on his sleeve, brows scrunching. You thought that you’d maybe been mistaken and you were only aggravating him further.

He didn’t turn his head to face you, but his eyes looked in your direction, trying harder than usual to pinpoint your location. “You can drop the act now.”

You fidget with your fingers and bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I, um, I don’t-“

“Don’t even bother. Sebastian already told me about your little charade. You might as well stop while I still have a modicum of patience.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping, letting the nervous tension leave your body. “You know, it’s just like him to tell on me and ruin all my hard work.” You glance at Ominis briefly, noticing his expression had morphed into something like amusement, but it just as likely could have been a trick of the light. “So you know, but you still seem upset?”

Huffing at you, he rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, keeping his arms crossed as he faced you fully. “Of course I’m still upset. I don’t enjoy being lied to, no matter how noble the reason. I’m perfectly capable of making my own judgments, thank you very much.” You looked at the ground and flattened your lips into a thin line, nodding in agreement before remembering that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah ok, I deserve that. I’m sorry.” You watched him shake his head and turn his head, looking pointedly down the hall.

“Yes, well, please refrain in the future. It’s going to be very difficult spending time together if I can’t trust your word.” Slight color rose to his cheeks as he realized the possible implication of his words. “Since you’re friends with Sebastian and all. I imagine you’ll start frequenting the Undercroft more often now that your farce has been discovered.”

You chuckled and smiled at him. “Of course. I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” He nodded once, and turned to swiftly walk down the hall.

You’d thought that was the end of it, but are surprised when Ominis stops abruptly, calling to you over his shoulder. “I apologize for my behavior the other night, and everyday since then. It was rather rude and unnecessary.” Without waiting for a response, he walks off down the hall. You smile after him and continue on with the rest of your day, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

————————————————

You did, in fact, visit the Undercroft more frequently after that. Mostly with Sebastian, but Ominis was slowly making a habit of accompanying the brunette when the two of you made plans. He’d also started showing up to your study table without so much as a greeting, simply sitting down and pulling out his assignments for the day. Today was one of those days. You glanced up from your Herbology homework to see Ominis making a beeline for your table. Smiling to yourself, you watch him approach, waiting for him to be fully seated before greeting him.

“Ominis.” You only get a hum of acknowledgement in return, before you both turn your attention to your respective assignments. An hour passes in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the clock tower signaling the start of a new hour. You’d planned to practice your spell work in the Undercroft after the library, and started packing your things to head out. Glancing at Ominis, you hesitate for only a moment before circling around to his side of the table, leaning down next to him.

“Ominis.” His head turns slightly in your direction, signaling that you had his attention without looking away from his enchanted quill. “I’m heading to the Undercroft for a bit. Care to join me?” You lean away and watch him consider your offer, before quietly disenchanting his quill and following you out of the library.

The walk to the Undercroft was done in comfortable silence, occasionally bumping shoulders on the way. He led the way down to his secret room, making sure no one had seen your entrance before closing the door securely. He headed for the center of the room, casually discarding his robe on a lounge chair on the way. You’d just crossed the threshold when he whipped around without warning. “Levioso.”

Instinctively, you shout Protego, his spell bouncing off the shield harmlessly. You look at him bewildered, about to ask what had gotten into him, when he whipped two more spells at you in quick succession. Dodging one and shielding against the other, you cast Stupify, only for him to roll out of the way effortlessly. “You know, you’ll never stand a chance against dark wizards if all you do is run away.”

“Ominis, what is happening right now? Did I do something to upset you?” He huffed and rolled his eyes, still brandishing his wand in your direction.

“Did you not come here to practice your spells?” He shot off another basic cast without warning. You leapt out of the way just in time, the spell hitting the wall behind you.

“I mean, I did, I jus- oh shit! uh, I wasn’t expecting to- fuck! Immediately find myself in a duel.” You continue to tuck and roll, as Ominis quickly fires a few more spells your way. A cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, giving you the sense that he was only playing with you at the moment.

“You think Sebastian became so good at dueling by accident? He’s only considered the best because I don’t care to waste my time playing in Lucan’s little club. I’d wipe the floor with my eyes closed.” You barked out a surprised laugh, almost costing you your robes as a ball of fire came hurtling towards you. Ominis’s smirk grew into a wicked smile. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on his lips as you circled around each other slowly.

“You should add ‘comedian’ to your long list of talents.”

“Is it comedy, or just honesty?”

“Mmm, humble too.” This time you take the attack, casting Depulso, attempting to knock him prone. He threw up his shield and cast Stupify in retaliation, hitting you in the chest.

You stumble a bit, and scramble to regain your balance. Before you could react, Ominis cast Expelliarmus, ripping your wand from your hand. He followed with Accio, yanking you across the room towards him before your wand finished falling. Spinning, you land directly in front of him, feet wobbling as you hit the ground.

An arm snakes around your waist and tugs you forward, steadying you. You feel the point of a wand lightly touch your throat, and a low amused rumble come from the chest pressing against you. Looking up at Ominis’s face, you notice he’d closed his eyes at some point during your sparring, a pleased smile resting comfortably on his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you gape up at him, mind reeling at how good he looks like this. Relaxed and happy, if not a little cocky. You search for something to say, anything, when he parts his lips.

“I win.” His voice is barely above a whisper, his smile growing at your indignant huff.

“You cheated. That wasn’t a fair fight.” His arm tightens ever so slightly around you as another chuckle escapes him.

“They never are. I even gave you a handicap, and you still lost.” He opened his eyes as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, eyes crinkling around the edges as you lightly smacked his arm.

“It doesn’t count as a handicap if you’re not actually restricting yourself, you ass.” He barked out a laugh and lowered his wand, but didn’t remove his arm from you.

“You’re free to try again, if you’d like. Though I doubt being prepared this time will change the outcome.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

His haughty smirk morphed into an actual grin as he finally released his hold on you. “I’m looking forward to it.”

——————————————

You, in fact, did not kick his ass. The tension between you continued to grow after every round, the air growing heavy with something unnamed, calling it quits after the fourth duel.

Following that, you would sneak into the Undercroft together while Sebastian was in class, enjoying the easy banter that came without the brunette dominating the conversation. Not that it had been very difficult to hide your increasingly frequent rendezvous. Sebastian had become more and more preoccupied with his search for a cure recently, talking about his latest discoveries every time you were all together. Both you and Ominis grew more concerned the deeper Sebastian delved into the Dark Arts, often discussing how to steer him away from the path he traveled on. You’d decided to trust him to know when to stop, but you weren’t convinced when he started pestering Ominis about the location of Salazar Slytherin’s secret Scriptorium. Ominis continuously refused to tell him any information, and was just getting more irritated by the day.

Ominis was ranting to you one day after combat training, yelling about how Sebastian had kept him up half the night prior with his whining. You’d been contemplating how to end Sebastian’s obsession without potentially pushing him away, when a truly wild thought occurred to you. You tried to interrupt Ominis’s pacing and irritated grumbles.

“Ominis.” He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, eyebrows scrunching further the more he worked himself up.

“Ominis.” You called his name a bit louder. Still no response. You could sense a whole new wave of annoyance about to explode out of his mouth, and attempted to interrupt it before he really got going.

“Ominis!”

“What?!” He whipped around to face you, a slightly unhinged look in his silver eyes.

“Stop your incessant pacing for a moment and come over here.” He narrowed his eyes and grumbled, but did as he was asked, stopping a short distance away.

“What.” He was decidedly calmer than he had been, so you excused his shortness. You took a deep breath, preparing to share your possible solution, knowing he’d object immediately, but hoping to persuade him.

“I had a thought, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He huffed and crossed his arms, putting all his weight on his left leg while raising one eyebrow.

“Well? Spit it out.” You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, knowing he was acting this way out of worry.

“Alright, first of all, you can lose the attitude. We’re on the same team here. No reason for you to get pissy with me.” He clicked his tongue and looked away, but didn’t make any more comments as he waited for you to speak. Rolling your eyes again, you try to choose your next words carefully. “What if, and hear me out here, we take him to the Scriptorium.”

Ominis went to object, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could get any words out. You tried to ignore the feel of his lips on your fingers and kept talking. “I wasn’t finished. We take him to the Scriptorium, and if we find something, we hide it before he can get his hands on it. He’ll see it’s a dead end, and look elsewhere.”

You look up into Ominis’s hard eyes and slowly remove your hand from his mouth. His arms remain crossed as he scowls, remaining quiet for only a moment longer.

“Congratulations. That was officially the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Absolutely not. How could you think going INTO the Scriptorium is a viable solution? My Aunt Noctua disappeared after entering that place, and we all assume she died terribly in her search.” You could see the sadness creep into his expression at the mention of his beloved aunt.

As you’d grown closer the last few weeks, he’d started opening up to you about his family history, and how he adored his aunt for sharing his personal beliefs. Your brow furrowed in sympathy, completely understanding his aversion to anything to do with the Dark Arts. You place your hand gently on his elbow before speaking again.

“I know, but letting him think his search is futile would be better than the alternative. I have a bad feeling it’ll only escalate if we don’t intervene.” His face is turned to the floor, and his eyes still hold the same hardness from before, but he is clearly considering your words carefully. You squeeze his elbow gently, pushing on. “It would also be nice if you could get some closure about your aunt. Maybe there’s something she left behind?” You watched his shoulders sag as he exhaled loudly. Defeated. “We stop as soon as things get too dangerous. Ok? I promise.”

He thinks for a moment more, but you could tell that you’d won. He heaves a large sigh before looking up at you, eyes searching your face as if he could actually see your expression. “Ok.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and give his still folded arm a tight squeeze. “-but, we leave as soon as I say, alright? Not a second later.” You nod in agreement and say yes, hoping the two of you would be able to pull this heist off under Sebastian’s nose.

—————————————————

The following night, you found yourself standing in a dark hallway deep in the Hogwarts dungeon. No other students ventured this far, and your only source of light were the sparsely scattered torches. Which only served to cast an eerie glow over the bricks.

“The entrance is here, but there’s some kind of trick to getting it to open. Something about three’s.”

You look around and notice two large, unlit braziers flanking the arch way towards the Slytherin Common Room. Three pairs of bejeweled snake eyes seemingly following your every movement. Looking around, you spot a similar brazier standing alone down the opposite hall. Having become familiar with the little puzzles peppered around the castle, designed to bolster your field guide, you theorized those braziers probably needed to be lit.

Taking out your wand, you cast Confringo on the lone brazier, quickly casting it on the other two after. For a moment, nothing happens, and you second guess yourself. Just as you went to ask the boys for other ideas, faint hissing traveled past your ears, and only grew louder as a door revealed itself on the wall.

Sebastian’s face holds a poorly concealed grin, giddy at the new discovery. Ominis looks like he wants to call the whole thing off here, but instead approaches the door. “Alright, we found the entrance. Now, how to open the door.” He puts his hand on it, feeling for some sort of doorknob or locking mechanism, coming up empty handed. Sebastian squeezes in next to him to get a better look and the ornate designs.

“Say something in Parseltongue.” You cock your head at Sebastian quizzically.

“What’s Parseltongue?” Ominis sighs heavily, but doesn’t look at you.

“A Parseltongue is someone who can speak to snakes. It’s a rare ability, and almost all known Parseltongues are directly descended from Salazar Slytherin.”

Sebastian shuffles his feet excitedly and stops trying to hide his boyish grin. “And we just so happen to have one standing right here!”

Ominis looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. You knew he was feeling uneasy. Walking up beside him, you grab his hand, causing him to look in your direction uncertainly. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, ignoring Sebastian’s gaze darting between you two. Ominis squeezes back, and doesn’t release you as he starts speaking. The unknown words caress your skin as they slither through the air.

The door responds, granting access to the pitch black rooms beyond. You give Ominis one last squeeze before letting go and heading into the dark, Sebastian following close behind. Ominis hesitated, but decided that whatever was beyond the door would be best faced by the three of you. As soon as everyone crossed the threshold, the entrance closed and locked, forcing you to continue forward through the maze.

“So, what did you say to Ominis?” Sebastian came up next to you, speaking in a low tone just out of their companions earshot.

“What makes you think I said anything to him?” You kept your gaze focused on the stones in front of you, worried Sebastian would glean something from your expression. Sebastian huffed in amusement while moving some cobwebs out of his way.

“Don’t even try. I’ve been hounding him for information for weeks. I tell you about the Scriptorium, and suddenly he’s on board? Clearly something happened with you two.” You blush a bit at the underlying implication in his words, thankful for the low light in this maze.

“You just don’t have the same way with words, Sebastian. I simply put the situation into perspective for him.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you push forward, scanning each surface for a hint of what was to come. Sebastian muttered a doubtful ‘Right.’ under his breath, but dropped it for the moment.

You found several unlit torches on the walls, getting to work lighting as many as possible. There were unique puzzles acting as locks needed to move forward. You found scattered pages along the way, each revealing itself to be written by Noctua Gaunt. Handing each one to Ominis, he stores them safely in his robes to read later.

Solving the last puzzle, the three of you cross into the next room. You had a feeling this was the final hurdle before discovering the Scriptorium, but stop short after entering the room. A pile of bones lie on the ground near the opposite door, next to the word ‘Crucio’ scratched into the floor.

Mind reeling, you pivot, attempting to walk back to Ominis, only to find him directly behind you.

He’d stopped so close that your forehead nearly bounced off his chest. His face unreadable as he stares in the direction of the body, the hand holding his wand shaking ever so slightly. You take his other hand in yours, silently confirming his terrible suspicion. He lets out a shaky breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, body tense, only worsening when Sebastian read the word aloud. “Crucio?”

Ominis sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your hand tightening painfully.

Keeping his grasp on you, he whirled back the way you came, dragging you along with him. “We’re leaving.”

Just before you’d reached the doorway, it vanished, leaving you nowhere to go but forward. You yanked on Ominis’s hand, preventing him from hitting his head on the solid wall before you. His breaths became erratic, his hand shaking violently in yours.

“Ominis it’s- the door’s gone. We have to- we have to keep going.” You tried your best to remain calm and keep your voice from trembling. Ominis started shaking his head, tears beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes.

“No. No, no, no this can’t- we can’t- we shouldn’t- we shouldn’t have come. I knew we shouldn’t have done this. You- You promised we’d leave when I said. You-” Tears started to gather in your eyes from watching Ominis’s worst fear come true. You hated yourself for ever suggesting this in the first place, wishing you could take it all back. You hold his hand in both of yours, staring helplessly, trying to figure out how to calm his panic. Sebastian spoke from the other side of the room.

“We’re not trapped, Ominis. We just need to cast Crucio and we’re in. Since you’re the only one who’s cast it before, you should-”

“NO, Sebastian. I’ll never go near that spell again. I can’t.” His silver eyes were wild as they shot in Sebastian’s direction, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.”You need- You need to want to cause pain when you cast it. I have no such desire. I- I can’t.” You squeezed his hand as hard as you could, trying desperately to squeeze the guilt out of him. Tears were openly running down his cheeks, his expression one of pure torture, as if he was reliving the day he cast the curse all over again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ominis. Your family-”

“That doesn’t excuse anything. At the end of the day, I still cast it, and I will live the rest of my days haunted by the memory.” You looked to Sebastian for help, but only received a gesture to come over to him. Annoyed that he wasn’t trying to help his distraught friend, you looked back at Ominis.

“Ok. It’s ok. You won’t have to cast it. We’ll figure out another way out of here. Stay right here.” You gave his hand one final squeeze before making your way to Sebastian. “What do we do?” He regarded you for a moment before flicking his eyes back towards Ominis.

“Well, I also technically know the Cruciatus Curse, but I haven’t actually cast it before, so I can’t entirely guarantee anyone’s safety. I can either cast it on you, or teach you and have it cast on me.”

You already knew the answer. There wasn't a bone in your body that would allow you to cast such a horrid curse on your friends, growing nauseous at the thought. You looked at Ominis, once again facing the wall you’d come through, and steeled yourself.

“Cast it on me.” Sebastian nodded and took a step back, waiting for you to give the signal.

“I won’t forget this.”

You took a steadying breath and nodded. Faster than you had anticipated, a bolt of red lightning was streaking from Sebastian’s wand. “Crucio!”

Your knees hit the ground as you were struck. You’d tried to hold in your screams, for Ominis, but the pain was too great. Your wails echoed loudly in the tight space.

Through your tears, you could vaguely make out Ominis crouched over, covering his ears. A small part of you thought that you deserved this for opening his old wounds, but that thought was quickly replaced with another wave of blinding agony.

As the spell began to fade, you could hear the door into the Scriptorium melt against the floor, the path open. Your body screamed in protest, but you stood up as quickly as possible and focused on the task at hand.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian wore a look of concern, and it warmed your heart that he hadn’t immediately run off into the other room. You nodded and walked inside, still clutching your ribs.

“Fine. Let’s look around inside. Sebastian, start in this room, we’ll search upstairs.” Without waiting to see if Ominis would follow, you dragged yourself by the handrail to the study on the second floor.

Casting Revelio, you spot a book lying on the desk emitting a dark and twisted aura. You pick it up and examine the cover, identifying it as Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. If Sebastian wanted anything in this room, it would be this book. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs, pulling you out of your thoughts, whirling around, you recognize Ominis’s blonde hair ascending the staircase.

As he reached the last step, you whispered his name, beckoning him closer. You started hurriedly filling him in when he got close enough. “Ominis, this is Salazar Slytherin’s spell book. We can’t let Sebastian find it. Help me look for a place to-”

“Does it still hurt?” You sputtered in surprise.

“Does what still hurt?”

You could see deep set worry in Ominis’s brows, his lips turned down in a sorrowful frown. “The curse. Does it still hurt?”

You blinked slowly, not quite understanding his train of thought. “Um, well yes, but that’s not important right now-”

“Yes it is. Of course it is. How could that not be the most important thing right now?” His hand took your unoccupied one gently. His other came up to lightly stroke the side of your head, tucking his thumb gently behind your ear, barely touching you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to experience that torture.” You could feel his breath on your face from how close he’d gotten and how breathy his voice had become. “So sorry.”

His face shone with regret, wishing he’d been able to spare you this pain. You squeezed his fingers, about to reassure him that you were alright, when you heard Sebastian call up to you.

“I haven’t found anything useful down here! What about up there?” You were ripped from the intimate moment by the realization that you still had a job to do. You cursed under your breath and looked around, seeing a book of similar size on a top shelf behind Ominis. Casting Accio, you pull it towards you, placing it in the spot the spell book previously occupied. Thankfully, it filled the outline in the dust well enough to avoid suspicion. There was no time to stash the book in your hands, hearing Sebastian climbing the stairs, calling for you both. You look at Ominis wildly and shove the book into his chest.

“Tuck the book into my waistband.” You let go of the book, forcing him to catch it before it fell to the ground. You quickly grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down toward you. Pausing only briefly to apologize.

“Please forgive me.”

“What-” You didn’t give him time to ask what you meant, hoping that he’d figure it out. You pulled him the rest of the way down and crashed your lips together clumsily. He stood there frozen until he heard Sebastain call for you again, almost to the top of the stairs. Ominis wound his arms around your waist, underneath your cloak, tucking the spell book into your waistband like you’d asked. Making sure it would be secure until you could move it to a safer location.

You could hear Sebastian stop short at the top of the stairs and just stare. Both you and Ominis pretending you hadn’t heard him, continuing to kiss. You started losing yourself in the blonde’s mouth, realizing how much you liked kissing him. His hands clutched your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible, seemingly becoming as lost as you. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking just under your eye. Your fingers found their way into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and tugging slightly on the short strands. Ominis groaned into your mouth and deepened the kiss, licking at your bottom lip needily.

“OK, that’s enough. What exactly is going on here?” You tear your mouths away from each other in genuine surprise, having both forgotten Sebastian had been standing there. He raised an eyebrow, regarding the both of you as you stayed intertwined.

“Uh, well, the um, the pain from the, the curse hadn’t fully subsided yet, and I needed a…distraction.” You hoped your half baked lie would be enough to fool the brunette, but you weren’t very confident.

Sebastian's eyes flickered back and forth between you two, definitely suspecting something was going on, also noting that you had yet to release each other. Ominis’s body curled protectively around you, shoulders hunched as if to shield you from Sebastian’s gaze. He closed his eyes and shook his head, deciding that he wasn’t willing to deal with this right now.

“Right, well were you able to find anything of importance, or have you just been snogging this whole time?” You and Ominis finally realize you were still cradling each other, and jump apart. You looked down at the floor blushing, gesturing to the book on the desk. Ominis was looking anywhere but you, trying to hide his blush behind his hand. Sebastian eyed the both of you as he walked over to the book. You didn’t know what book you’d summoned from the shelf, but you hoped that it was something less dangerous than the spell book. Sebastian flipped through the pages, seemingly satisfied.

“A book of rare potions. This could definitely prove useful.” With that he snapped the book shut and turned towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve all had enough excitement for one day.” He started walking without waiting for either you or Ominis. Exiting, the back of your hand brushed Ominis’s, silently promising him that you’d take care of the book. He nodded slightly and you bid the boys goodnight, quickly heading for the Room of Requirement, thinking of places to stash the tome.

—————————————————-

You didn’t see much of the boys for a while afterwards. Trials set by the Keepers and your academic responsibility pulling you in too many different directions to have much free time to spend with your friends. Ominis wore a constant face of worry when you were around, repeatedly asking if you were alright. You did your best to reassure him that you were just busy, before apologizing and hurrying to your next task.

Ominis hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed your company until he didn’t have it anymore. He craved it, and was struck with how much he missed you. He didn’t want to be selfish and ask you to carve out time to spend with him in your outrageous schedule, so he settled for keeping a close eye on you whenever you were near.

Thoughts of the Scriptorium floated through his mind constantly. Wanting to know why you’d thought to kiss him, and if you’d let him do it again. Sebastian had stuck his nose in the potions book you’d found, and had yet to come up for air. He wished there was a way to take some of the burden off his friends shoulders, but came up short every time.

After completing all of the Trials, you now had a fairly good grasp on the ancient power you wielded. You’d listened to all the warnings from the Keepers on the responsibility of this power, and you swore to use it wisely. However, there was one thing you needed to accomplish, preferably without the Keepers ever finding out. Surely removing a curse was more acceptable than removing emotion, but you thought it best to keep it secret.

That’s how you found yourself in Feldcroft, standing outside Sebastian’s uncle’s house. You knocked on the door lightly, praying that Anne was home alone. She opened the door and greeted you cheerily, inviting you in. You glanced around and didn’t see anyone else, which was exactly what you needed.

“Hello!! It’s been too long, thank you for the visit.” You smiled warmly and sat down at the table.

“It’s great to see you, Anne. How’ve you been? Have you seen Ominis or Sebastian recently?” She joined you sitting at the table, wincing a bit in discomfort before settling down.

“I’ve been well. As well as I can be anyway. Fortunately both Ominis and Sebastian have paid me a few visits since we last spoke. I believe they’re actually on their way over shortly.” You nod quickly, realizing that you didn’t have much time.

“Alright, we’ve gotta do this quickly. Anne, I can help you, but you can’t tell a single soul what happens here. I need you to trust me and not ask questions, ok? Explaining would take much too long and put you in too much danger. Please, please just trust me.” You looked her in the eyes, willing her to say yes, so you could accomplish your goal before the boys arrived. She bit her lip and studied the table, nodding hesitantly, and then more resolutely.

“Do it. Uh, whatever ‘it’ is.” You breathed out a sigh of relief and took out your wand, placing it over her heart.

“Take a deep breath.” She did as she was told, and you began to pull the curse out of her while she exhaled. She had a slight look of discomfort but remained still until you were done. She slumped back into her chair as you placed the curse in a jar, to dispose of when you returned to the castle. You could see the color already returning to her face as you studied her, making sure you hadn’t messed up in any way.

She had her head down quietly, and you were about to ask if she was alright, when you saw teardrops start falling into her lap. Panicking, you reach for her, afraid something was wrong. Suddenly her head shot up and she beamed at you, smiling so bright you thought you might end up blind.

“The pain, it’s- it’s just…gone! Thank you. Merlin’s beard, thank you. I can’t ever repay you for what you’ve done.” You shushed her with a hug, glad to see the girl Sebastian spoke about come back to the surface.

“You don’t have to thank me. Just promise me, if anyone asks, tell them it was Sebastian. One of his potions, or something. Please, keep this between us.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes with her hand. You wanted to say more, but heard the tell tale signs of the boys arguing as they approached the house. You got up quickly and cast Disillusionment on yourself before whispering to her. “I was never here.”

She nodded again as the door opened, both boys walking in. You waited until they went to greet her before slipping out the front door, creeping away. You could hear Sebastian’s cries of joy as he held his sister close, asking her a thousand questions.

What you didn’t notice, however, was Ominis watching you slink away down the path. Disillusionment never worked on him, his wand detecting a person’s mass. He’d accidentally exposed many hidden persons, often getting them into trouble.

He listened to Anne and Sebastian talk, wondering why you hadn’t stayed, but as Sebastian grilled Anne, he could hear the slight hesitance in her voice. He turned in their direction, watching Anne wring her hands under the table, something she did when she was lying.

She glanced over at him, noting his silence, in stark contrast with Sebastian’s excited chatter. Noticing how closely he studied her, she looked away quickly, laughing nervously at Sebastian, who was too wrapped up in his own excitement to notice.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what you’d done. He knew the rules you’d broken, the danger you’d put yourself in, and he wanted to weep. His emotions were everywhere, a part of him wanting to stay and celebrate, but a larger portion desperate to fly back to the castle in search of you. He struggled to get his breathing under control.

Anne could see the change in him, and shook her head, eyes wide, begging him not to say anything. Ominis took a few deep breaths, striding over to her quickly. He pushed Sebastian out of the way and enveloped Anne in his arms, squeezing her tight.

Sebastian wormed his way in between the two, joining the relieved embrace. The three of them sat quietly, and there wasn’t a dry eye when they’d finally pulled apart. Laughing through their tears, the boys regaled Anne with their latest escapades, excited for her eventual return to the school.

You sat in the back of Ominis’s mind as he celebrated with his friends, longing to share this moment with you, but understanding why he couldn’t. He resolved to find you as soon as they returned to the castle, eternally grateful for the risk you’d taken.

____________________

Sebastian and Ominis only spent a couple hours with Anne, wandering back towards the castle in the early afternoon. The boys parted ways after entering Hogwarts, Sebastian walking leisurely toward their Common Room.

Ominis didn’t even wait for Sebastian to turn the corner before taking off. He checked all of your usual haunts, failing to spot you anywhere. He started checking the classrooms to see if you’d maybe gone to speak to a professor, all coming up empty.

He made his way to the Astronomy Tower, having already checked the other classrooms, wondering where you could have possibly disappeared to. He passes a blank portion of wall, stopping at the light sound of metal on brick. Turning, he watches in awe as a door appears, beckoning him forward.

He opens the door slightly, cautiously sticking his wand in first, mapping the room beyond. His eyes widened as he yanked the door open, and taking a few hesitant steps in, he disappeared inside.

The room was enormous. He subconsciously wondered how his wand had never picked up such a huge space. He could hear the faint call of gulls and running water, sensing another large room down a nearby hall, but unable to glean any details.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else there, until a house elf appeared next to him, startling the blind boy. “Oh, Master Gaunt! What a surprise! What can Deek help you with?” Ominis looked from Deek, to the room, and back to Deek.

“Wha- What is this place, um…Deek?” Deek smiles at him kindly.

“It’s the Room of Requirement, Master Gaunt! It sometimes appears to students in need. What were you looking for when it appeared? Maybe Deek can help you find it!” Ominis blinked. He’d been thinking about you. His thoughts had been a jumbled mess, unsure what to even say when he finally found you. During his search, Ominis had considered keeping his knowledge to himself, but ultimately decided to come clean. He hadn’t thought he could keep his emotions in check enough to come up with a convincing lie. His heart was pounding too hard with a driving need to see you, the feeling only increasing the longer you evaded him.

He relayed his intentions to Deek, who smiled widely back. “Well! You’re certainly in the right place. They’re right down the hall, should Deek show you?”

Ominis shook his head and thanked the elf, walking quickly into the next room. There were plant pots and potion desks lining the walls, a pleasant scent hanging in the air. Ominis scanned the room, spotting you over by a truly massive Chinese chomping cabbage. He had no idea they could get that big, but there you were, petting it lovingly, unafraid.

He has no memory of walking towards you, not entirely in control of his body. You turn around, bumping directly into his chest, and let out a surprised gasp. “Fuck! Who- Ominis! You- Merlin's beard, you scared me. How did you-“

Ominis drops his wand on the floor carelessly, hands coming up to cradle your face reverently.

“Thank you.” His lips land on your forehead first, kissing the skin slowly. You make a small noise of surprise, but otherwise are unable to speak.

“Thank you.” He kissed your left eye, voice barely above a whisper. Your hands unconsciously rest themselves on his forearms, gripping them slightly.

“Thank you.” You feel the delicate press of his lips on your right eye.

“For saving Anne.” He kissed the bridge of your nose tenderly, before skipping your lips and kissing your chin. “For saving Sebastian.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes, stopping a hair's breadth away. Thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly, pausing only for a moment. “For saving me.”

You shake your head slightly. “I didn’t-“

“You did.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, brushing it ever so slightly. He hadn’t realized until this moment, but you had indeed saved him. He’d lost so much so quickly, and was on the path to losing whatever he had left. Anne was gone, and Sebastian was killing himself to get her back. Ominis had felt like he was drowning. His friends, who were really his family, were fading. There had been nothing he could do to stop it, but…you did. Self sacrificing, stubborn, beautiful you. He knew he was done for. He wanted to fill his lungs with you, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

The air hung heavily between you, the tension almost stifling. Ominis gently brushed your nose with his.

“Can I kiss you?” Ominis spoke the words into your mouth, his voice needy, waiting for your answer.

“If you want to.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and inched impossibly closer. “Desperately.”

Pressing your lips together, he kissed you slowly, savoring each second. He groaned, pulling away briefly, only to come surging back with renewed vigor. Ominis’s hands slid down your sides, coming to wrap around your middle. Your arms came up around his shoulders, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the strands. Ominis gasps, pulling your hips impossibly closer, grinding his lower body into you.

He tears his mouth away from you, but doesn’t go far. Leaning his forehead against yours, you both take some time to catch your breath. He recovered faster, and started gently scattering soft kisses around your neck and jaw, continuing his ministrations while he spoke. “I don’t- I can’t articulate how grateful I am. You’ve done- Merlin’s beard, you’ve done so much for me. How would I even begin to repay you?”

You’re roused a bit from your dazed stupor at his words, tilting your head down slowly to look at him again, shaking your head. “Ominis, there’s nothing to repay. You owe me nothing.”

Ominis took a step back and sunk to the floor, kneeling in front of you. You had to grab onto the table behind you to avoid collapsing. You were rendered speechless at the sight of Ominis, on his knees before you. His hands rested on your outer thighs, thumbs stroking back and forth idly.

He looked up at you with unadulterated adoration, his sightless eyes searching for you longingly. “You saved my family.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your thighs.

“I owe you everything.” Leaning forward, his lips placed a light kiss on your left thigh, scorching you through the fabric. He moved to kiss the other thigh just as tenderly, a shiver racing down your spine in anticipation. Hands creeping up to rest on your hips, he pressed a couple more kisses into your stomach, face nuzzling you here and there.

“I’d spend the rest of my days showing you how grateful I am,” his chin came to rest on your stomach “if you’d let me.” Eyes hooded, boring into yours, you move your fingers to brush his cheek ever so slightly. He leaned his head fully into your palm, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice. “Please, let me.” He turned his face, kissing the palm of your hand, whispering into your skin like a prayer. “Please.”

You can hardly breathe. Your heart, pounding faster than your first time flying on Highwing. The sight of this beautiful, refined, proud man begging on his knees was something straight out of a muggle romance novel. You cupped his other cheek with your hand, bending over and pressing a firm kiss into his soft lips. He groaned into your mouth, chasing you as you tried to pull away. Indulging him for a few more seconds, he whines as you actually pull away this time.

“Ominis.” You pant his name into his mouth, he gasps and unconsciously rolls his hips forward, looking for friction.

“Yes, darling.” He looked like a man starving. His hands had tucked themselves behind your knees, trembling from the effort of maintaining a sliver of his composure.

“Ominis I-”

“I’m heading out to run a few errands for Professor Weasley, do you or Master Gaunt need Deek to get anything?” You and Ominis were startled out of your private little world, jumping apart for fear of Deek seeing you in such a compromising position.

Your brain fought through the foggy haze it'd settled in, and quickly answered Deek. “We’re ok Deek. Just talking. Take your time! No rush to come back.”

You waited until you heard the elf apparate out of the room, looking around for somewhere to conceal you both, should Deek return too soon. You hear the familiar sound of the room changing itself to accommodate your needs.

Ominis yelped and covered his head, and you spotted a door forming on the far wall. The door swung open on its own, revealing a spacious bedroom on the other side.

“What the hell just happened?” You turned back to Ominis to see him peeking out from under his arms comically, in great contrast to his previous behavior. Ominis lowers his arms at the sound of your amused laughter, pouting a bit. You brush the back of his hand with yours and he quickly captures it in his.

“Uh, well, it seems like the room thought we needed a more…private place to finish our conversation.” You looked away blushing, but quickly turned back when you felt an impatient tug on your hand.

“I can’t find it. Show me.” You could hear the barely contained neediness in Ominis’s voice. Realizing Ominis didn’t have his wand, you start searching the ground around you.

“Ominis, your wand-”

“Don’t care. We’ll look later.” Getting impatient, he starts dragging you in a random direction.

Laughing once more, you redirect him towards the open door, spotting a fully furnished master bedroom, attached bathroom and all. Ominis waits for the sound of the door closing, before crowding you against it, trapping you with his body. His hands cradle your face once again, forcing you to look into his stunning silver eyes. He looks like it pains him to keep your lips apart, but he resists the temptation with furrowed brows, waiting. “Well?”

You want to laugh at his ridiculous question, but your voice comes out closer to a sob. “Do you even have to ask? I think you know very well that I’m yours, that I have been for-” He didn’t even let you finish before slamming his mouth down onto yours. Hands quickly trailing down to your thighs before hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips. You exchanged pleased sighs and hungry moans, your tongues dancing to the tune.

You fought to stay together as long as possible, becoming lightheaded as your lungs screamed for air. Ominis only tore himself away to suck in a deep breath, panting a desperate ‘I love you’ against your lips before diving back in. You lost track of how long you stayed entangled, exchanging I love you’s between sweet kisses and gentle touches, your intense fervor for one another slowly cooling to a low simmer.

At some point Ominis had carried you to the bed, where you currently lay facing each other, basking in the other's arms. Your fingers ran through his hair as he placed lazy kisses on your neck and collar bone, purring a quiet ‘I love you’ after each one. You sighed contentedly, thinking about how far you’d both come from that very first meeting.

You laughed quietly to yourself, prompting a curious hum from Ominis, who continued his slow ministrations.

“You wanna know something?” Your voice was barely audible, afraid to break the peaceful atmosphere too soon.

“What’s that, my darling?” Ominis whispered the words into your shoulder, placing a light kiss on it right after.

You fought to keep the shit eating grin off your face, not wanting Ominis to get suspicious at the change in your tone. “The day we first met, when I came over to help you with your assignment?”

“Mhmm?” Another kiss behind your ear.

“Sebastian actually caught me staring at you.” You huffed out an amused laugh. “He’s very protective, tried picking a fight with me.” Ominis chuckled with you, running the tip of his nose along your jaw, quiet for a moment.

“What were you thinking about?” You smirked to yourself, knowing you’d caught him.

“When?” You put on an innocent act, pretending you didn’t know what he was asking.

He huffed another amused laugh against your cheek. “When you were ogling me shamelessly across the library.” His hand was gliding gently down your arm, coming to rest on your hip.

“Well…” You finally allowed the wide grin to spread itself across your face, making sure he’d be able to hear the taunting lilt to your voice. “I was thinking about how pretty you’d look with your dick in my mouth.”

Ominis barked out a surprised laugh, pulling you tighter against him and hiding his red face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the wide, happy grin he pressed into your skin, shoulders shaking with laughter. He brought his teeth to your ear, biting it gently in retaliation, causing you to squirm as he trapped you against his chest.

“You naughty thing.”

[tricornonthecob]

ADHD really going brrrr right now

LK 117: Captain Benzodiazepine

(pt1)(pt2)(pt3)(pt4)(pt5)(p6)

They very much so were not, and I think its a shame DIC/PBS decided that this particular detail needed to be sugarcoated. They could have shown Sarah make a daring escape with some of the other camp followers, or smth.

Fuck goddammit shit I feel a fanfic coming on.

Man that is not helping James right now.

Oh my God is he gonna cry?

Damn how fast is he skittering down the palisades?

Also the soundtrack has NO chill right now with the violin swell.

THE ANGST! THE ANXIETY! THE DRAMA! Seeing your loved one's face everywhere you look! Sorry I'm going feral rn.

He fucking. Literally. Falls to his knees. Someone PLEASE explain to me why this isn't canon in the end.

Okay so I wanna timeout with some notes.

"Yes... I'm safe."

First of all: got some survivor's guilt going on.

Second: The fact she's put so much emphasis on I'm safe makes me think that in the original draft, Corbin is supposed to be fucked up and captured and not present here in this scene, and she was added back in later for Sugarcoating.

Interesting. She's hopeful for the American cause. Is it because on a subconscious level she's an American and is denying it?

You're confusing your boyfriend and its giving him a heccin' concern.

In this house we stan Empathetic and Caring James but also gotdamn, I'll say it again, the expression work in this ep is pretty solid.

I know you're trying to remind me of History facts and distract me with DILF Washington, but 1)I'm immune to DILF Washington and 2)

How can I not think about them?

Freedum.

Ok now the animators are flexing on us with this upshot.

This was a terrible day to do this I have so much to do byeeee

[ttshihiro]

pspspps.. totally not golden groovy woops

ANYWAYS HII!! heard u were open for requests. may i request tammy + qiu with and an artist reader :00

requests of my favorite fandoms are my catnip good gof woa who could this be‽‽ my reqs and my ask box are like always open btw >◡<

extra note/s: I refer to step 1 Qiu as he/him. Uhhh take this as platonic or romantic, I'll add an indicator for romance (𐙚) ^^

more under the cut > o

✧ At 10 years old, QIU's fascinated. How he discovers your interest and skill in arts varies but his reaction doesn't. He's impressed! Whether digital or traditional, Qiu would love to participate especially if you asked him yourself.

For this reason, he carries an extra pen and even those colored ones just in case you get bored or if you're suddenly struck by creativity when you two are playing :3

✧ The first time you show him one of your doodles you made during class, he's compelled to do the same whether or not you actually give him it. And ever since, you two've been exchanging these sketches during class. It's the cutest scene to walk into.

✧ URGH AND THE THINGS HE DOES WHEN YOU TELL HIM ABOUT ART BLOCK DEPENDING ON HOW AND WHAT YOU DRAW

You're into drawing sceneries? Trust that he starts telling you and Tamarack about more "special things" in the forest and/or the town.

Like the sky? There's this clearing a lot further into the forest at your backyards. Stargaze, watch the clouds and the sunset together?

✧ It's also necessary for me to mention that unlike his notes, lazily pressed against eachother and constantly on the run, anything you give him goes to a safe space probably in between a books pages, under the the matress of his bed or inside a drawer/container.

"They broke into my backyard accidentally, 'cause they were on a crazy investigation about a paper airplane. Plus, they got here a day ago and they're already looking out for me. Normally, I'm the one doing that."

"Besides, they're pretty. And they make me pretty. Look! Look how they drew me!"

✧ As for 10-year-old TAMARACK, she's curious. The things you draw, are they based on actual places? Actual people? Oh, you draw based on your imagination? Elaborate.

✧ At some point in the prologue, she says "All the forests in the world are different, and some places don't even have forests. I can show you good spots to find things since you're newer to this forest than me."

And I can't not think of her running up to you to give you all of what she gathered for you to draw like omfg

With all those leaves and tiny branches sticking out of her hair and sweater, she smiles brightly with her hands filled with her treasures. AUGH SHE MAKES ME SO SICK I LOVE HER

✧ Like Qiu, she has her own safe spot designated for only your drawings if you've given her any.

She shows off all of them. Especially if you've drawn her?? It'll be the only thing she talks about during literally any time for the rest of the month and the few months after.

"Out of all the friends I have here, you're the best one. We came to the same exact neighborhood, almost at the same time, and are he same age. You have fun outside and I do too."

"I think you're pretty. How you draw me is pretty! I've never met a kid who was just like me. That's important. That's serious."

✧ Now, 14-year-old QIU's pretty much no different. They're even more impressed when they see just how much you've improved. Nonetheless, they treasure your old drawings just as much as they do they new.

They take the liberty of providing you with both a pen and paper to draw on when you're together, in case you don't bring your sketchbook (if you own one).

On those days where you two just sit in silence in their hideout, their gaze drifts to your side quietly a few times to watch your progress. After a while, they settle with sitting right next to you and watching the stroke of your pen against the paper as the scene forms with each hatch.

✧ As a teen, they've actually been a tad bit farther off the town when they feel like taking a ride on their bike. They've seen many sights and burn the route into their brain for them to tell you about. They'd even be happy as to bring you there themselves.

✧ If you ask them to be your muse, good god you'd need to tell them what to do.

It's almost a funny sight. Qiu, the kid who knew what to do their whole life asks you, "Should I pose? Where do I look? Ah- what's my good side?"

𐙚 They can feel their breath hitch under your scrutiny. Suddenly, they're concious of every single thing about them. Where do their eyes go? Should they move their hands? Is their hair in the way?

They avert their gaze flusteredly, their head ever so slightly moving to the side when they do so.

And good god do their hands clutch the fabric of their pants when you tell them to look at you properly.

✧ Same goes for TAMARACK at 14. She's as intrugued as ever to hear about your work. She admires (you)r style from then till now and has learned to appreciate the time gone into things as simple as this, whether or not you've made it with her in mind. BUT GOD IF YOU TELL HER IT IS, it's always sitting on her desk and she thinks constantly about what you've done for her.

✧ And while she doesn't exactly bring you a pen, she's more than glad to hand you hers when you need it.

✧ Unlike before, she'd now be at your side when you two hung out at her backyard. She'd be sitting across from you, practicing the cello. The hum of her instrument accompanied by the sound of nature and the scratch of your pen against paper gives her a sense of calmness.

This may also be when she realizes she's been your muse! Her fingers trace over where your pen has been and boy appreciate isn't even enough for her to describe how she felt. It was definitely happy, but that wasn't the word either.

𐙚 Her heart pounds alarmingly as she admires your work. It's almost concerning to you that she sits silently with a blank expression as she held your sketchbook in her hands.

But that concern washes off you as soon as a warm smile curls the corners of her lips, tender adoration displayed all over her face.

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

sleepless nights

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

(REQUEST): Hiii!!! First of all i hope you're doing good🫶🏻 This idea just popped in my mind and I was wondering if you could write it. So sister!reader has trouble falling asleep so brother!jj let her hang out with the pogues for a little while so she'll maybe drift off easier but nuh uh that girl is still being restless then once she's tucked to bed, she keeps calling jj to come and sleep with her, because she only feels safe by his side♡ Thanks you!! I love your account so much mwahh💋

warning(s): N/A

a/n: thank you so much for being my very first request, my dear. i took a few liberties with your prompt but i hope you enjoy it all the same. i am very grateful for your support!

JJ had tried everything.

He'd tried bedtime stories and back rubs, he'd hummed old Disney songs and offered mugs of warm milk. Hell, he'd even tried good old fashioned bribery, promising all the sweets and plushies her tiny heart desired in exchange for a good eight hours of shut-eye—but to no avail.

This kid just would not sleep.

JJ watched dejectedly as Y/N plucked at the strings of Kie's ukulele, curiousity shining in her large eyes. She'd been at it for a few long minutes now, her tongue poking out of her mouth from the sheer intensity of her concentration as she composed a grating, pitchy version of 'music'.

In hindsight, bringing a very lively Y/N around his very wasted group of friends wasn't one of his better ideas, but the blond had grown desperate. Nothing was working—for whatever reason the five-year-old just wouldn't go down. He'd hoped that being around the Pogues would pacify her somehow—that their late night conversations around the fire could serve as a comfort to Y/N's reeling mind—but, unfortunately, lady luck just wasn't on his side tonight.

John B whooped and hollered as Y/N teased her final note, clapping exaggeratedly at her lacklustre performance. "Nice goin', Poguie! You've got some crazy skills." Y/N beamed from where she sat propped up in Kiara's lap.

"Encore!" Pope exclaimed in support, but JJ intervened before the young girl could start in on her next 'song'.

"No. No encores." He put a hand out to stop his sister from assaulting the ukulele any further, motioning that it was time to make her way back to him. The initial agreement of her staying with the Pogues was that she not stray from JJ’s lap, but it hadn’t taken long for that expectation to fly out the window. "It's getting late, Y/N. C'mere."

“Just a little longer, JJ, please?”

“We passed ‘a little longer’ fifteen minutes ago.”

Y/N pouted, slumping back into Kie's arms. “But Jay—"

"Now, Y/N. I'm not playing anymore." Y/N huffed. She knew not to fight with her brother when he got that severe edge to his voice, even though she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her night treating the Pogues to their very own VIP concert.

The young girl shuffled over to her big brother with a sour face, sinking into his arms without a fuss. She could tell that JJ was annoyed with her—he'd been too busy dealing with Y/N to have had the privilege of drinking, and without the alcohol to boost it, every minute he spent awake further weighed on his mood.

"Boooo!" Kie heckled. "You're such a party pooper, JJ."

"Big papa's mad," John B continued, earning a chorus of drunken laughter from the rest of the Pogues. JJ only rolled his eyes, adjusting himself so that Y/N could reluctantly rest her head on his chest.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up JB. See what happens the next time you need me to fix the Twinkie's engine." John B only pouted in response.

"Oh, come on, dude! You wouldn't let the ole girl die now, would you?" JJ cracked a smirk.

"Keep laughin' and y'all are gonna find out."

Y/N felt her eyelids growing heavier as she listened to the Pogues lose themselves in rapid-fire banter and shoulder-shaking laughter, the warmth of the fire caressing her back. She found comfort in the way her brother's stomach would tremble with the occasional chuckle, breathing in sync with the steady beating of his heart.

She'd spent the past twenty minutes playing with JJ's fingers, spinning the rings on his digits as he spoke, and the boy looked down at his sister with a smile when her hands eventually fell limp against his palm.

"Close your eyes, peanut," he whispered, though she might as well have been asleep already. Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, clearly losing the battle she'd been fighting with sleep. "I've got you."

"Mm-mm," She mumbled, burying her head in JJ's t-shirt. He couldn't help but smile despite her defiance. Whether or not the Y/N was being difficult, she was pretty damned cute. "I wan’ stay up."

"I promise you're not missin' much, kid. Pope's jokes really aren't that funny."

"Hey!" The boy interjected, having now abandoned whichever one of Kie’s stories he'd been enthralled in only seconds before. From what JJ had gathered, it had something to do with Rafe Cameron and a golf buggie.

Y/N joined in with the Pogues as they mocked Pope’s now wounded ego, emitting quiet giggles that just barely stifled a yawn. JJ sighed. Though it was a pain, he would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed with Y/N’s determination to stay conscious. "How 'bout we get you to bed now, hm?"

"No," Y/N persisted, fighting not to shut her tired eyes. "I wanna stay with you."

The older boy patted his baby sister's back, pressing a long kiss to the top of her head. "How about this, kiddo. If you promise to shut your eyes and keep 'em closed, you can stay right here. That sound good?"

He barely had to tell her, it seemed, because Y/N's small body had gone limp against him before the words had finished leaving his mouth. JJ chuckled lightly, brushing a few hairs away from her now closed eyes.

"Finally," He breathed, kissing her head once more as he wrapped Y/N in a protective embrace. It had taken four long hours, but the small girl had finally given in to rest. "Y'all better quiet down. If Y/N wakes up it's on your goddamned heads."

"I don't think she's waking up anytime soon, Jay," Kie chuckled. She was right, JJ thought—Y/N would be having one Hell of a late morning tomorrow.

"Gotta hand it to her, though. Kid put up a good fight," John B said, raising his drink and saluding to Y/N before taking another swig of beer. “She’s one Hell of a Pogue if I’ve ever seen one.”

“You gonna bring her in?” Pope asked, and JJ considered it for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nah, man.”

He watched attentively as Y/N’s chest rose and fell with steady breaths, her small hand fisting a handful of his shirt. It warmed his heart to know that through all of her fussing and restlessness, all Y/N had really wanted was to stay by his side.

In that moment, JJ swore to never let her go.

“I think she’s good where she’s at.”

[midnightscramble]

Hello I want to request one of Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader smut 🥹

Like Lightning Part 1 (Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader)

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: So, so many liberties were taken (if it’s not to your liking feel free to request again, don’t be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: To Agatha’s surprise and relief her neighbor Y/n is not under Wanda’s complete control, Y/n has a feeling her and Agatha have met before…

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, pwp, slight angst/comfort, touch starved Agatha, thigh riding (Agatha receiving), biting (Agatha receiving), bottom Agatha, top reader, no Beta read

There was not much to do in Westview. The smart dressed college kids she went to school with had invited Y/n to hang out by the water tower, the go to spot for wanna be delinquents. But every night was the same, they discussed the same things with slightly more fluency than the night before, almost as if it was a rehearsal.

Rather than endure any more of the pseudo intellectual ramblings, Y/n had taken to walking at night. She walked just about everywhere, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, even taking to the near by woods. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, there was something about Westview at night that intrigued her. The air had a dream like quality, perhaps it was the mysterious fog that invaded the town each night, or maybe it was just her imagination.

Either way, Y/n felt a keen sense of safety on these walks. The city council had recently established a town curfew, meaning everyone was supposed to be in their homes by 8 pm. Two hours later and it was guaranteed that all lights would be out as people retired for the night. Everyone seemed so eager to comply with the rules that there was not a single soul left awake to enforce them.

That was until she saw an abandoned bicycle propped up against a tree near the edge of the woods. Cautiously approaching, she let her hands run over the handles. They were warm. Someone had recently ridden the bike. Y/n looked around the empty streets, and then towards the woods. The odds were that some kid thought they’d be rebellious and runaway for the night. She huffed and debated her options: continue her walk, or prevent a would be search party.

Always the good samaritan, she trudged through the fallen leaves, letting instinct guide her. It was almost as if a magnetic force was tugging her deeper into the woods. No, a child wouldn’t have made it this far, a child would have turned back by now- the sound of crickets chirping suddenly ceased, replaced by the low hum of radio static. She stopped in her tracks a peered into the darkness.

Choppily, a disembodied voice sounded as if it were right in front if her “We ha-ve eye-s on an-other host-age”

Y/n took off in a sprint before she could process what was being said. She dropped her keys somewhere in her rush to safety but didn’t look back until she had reached the familiar pavement of the roads. Still running, she made a beeline for home, and to her great relief a light emitted from her neighbor Agatha’s window. She ran up to the front door and pounded on it. Her heart was beating so fast she feared her ribcage would give way to its force. Finally the door opened, and Y/n collapsed into the door frame.

“Oh, well hello to you too,” Agatha sing songed.

“Please you’ve got to let me in, there’s something in the woods…” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly as she peaked over Y/n’s shoulder to examine the outside.

With concern in her eyes, she guided the young woman in. She wasn’t quite sure if Y/n was lucid or not. It seemed unlikely that Wanda would suddenly decide to give her a gift, and equally unlikely that her wife, Y/n, was in control of her actions.

Wanda’s spell on Westview had cruelly separated Agatha and Y/n. Day after day, Agatha was forced to watch Y/n wonder, flirt, and be a pawn in the whatever plot Wanda was acting out. The two had not interacted a single time during this whole ordeal, making Agatha’s days feel endless.

Y/n being one door down and yet completely out of her reach had been driving her slightly insane. Although, she did appreciate the proximity as it allowed her to keep an eye out for any threats.

“What happened did someone chase you?” Y/n paused and looked around, she had never been inside Agatha’s home before. In fact she had never even spoken to the woman, and yet she had the oddest sensation that being here with the woman was exactly where she belonged. Y/n dug through the deepest recesses of her mind, and looked at the woman in question.

It was only then that it occurred to Y/n the peculiarity of the situation. How was it that Agatha wasn’t asleep? Everyone in Westview followed the town’s curfew, yet here Agatha was, fully dressed in day clothes and awake as ever.

She ignored Agatha’s question and posed one of her own, “How is it that we are both awake right now?”

The dark haired woman sucked in a breath. Y/n never ceased to surprise her, she should have known her wife would move against the grain even when dark magic compelled her to fall in line.

“We must not be susceptible to lullabies…” She searched Y/n’s eyes for understanding. Her crypticness only seemed to agitate her wife further. If she wanted to get away from Wanda’s prying eyes she would have to convince Y/n to come down to the cellar, where her ruins are.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “Care for a drink?” Y/n nodded and followed her to the kitchen. On autopilot she started making the woman a vodka soda, but as she reached to place it down on the counter Y/n grabbed her wrist.

“How did you know my drink?” Not releasing her hold, Y/n pushed into the woman’s personal space, trying to intimidate her. Backing her into the wall she asked again, “What do you know?”

Agatha swallowed, the longing that had built up these past few months had left her positively starved for her wife’s touch. The feeling of the woman's body pressed against hers made her release a whimper. Y/n eyes darkened, and her breathe became shallow at the small noise Agatha emitted. Her grip on the woman's wrist loosened and she soothingly rubbed the pads of her fingertips against the reddened skin.

Even with no memory, Agatha thought to herself, the woman before her was still her sweet Y/n. Still caring even when frustrated and fighting.

For a moment, they stayed in that position, tightly pressed against the wall, breathing the same air until the lights of the house suddenly cut out. Y/n gasped as they were plunged into darkness. She clung onto Agatha, "What's going on, please I need to know."

She slipped out of the hold and tugged Y/n's hand gently, "You'll have to come with me." Silently they walked down the basement stairs. Large stones with carvings were littered across the floor, coming together to make a pentagram and Agatha guided them to the center. Wisps of purple floated through the air, like cotton candy being carried by the wind. In awe, Y/n reached out and gently touched it, it crinkled and cracked against her fingers like electricity. She turned to Agatha, waiting for an explanation.

...

They sat across from each other on the floor, far more relaxed as the reality of the situation was brought to light.

"And you're working to stop Wanda?" Y/n clarified.

"Well, now we're working to stop Wanda."

"But who exactly are we?" Agatha bit her lip before responding, "I'm your wife."

Y/n's eyes widened, she wished she could say it was in disbelief but she was mostly impressed with herself. A slow smile spread across her face, cat like and absolutely predatory, "Is that why you liked me corning you earlier?"

Agatha flushed, "You have to understand, I've been alone for months," as the woman explained herself Y/n started a slow crawl forward, "and having to watch you-"

"You've been watching me?"

"No! I mean yes, but not like that." Agatha buried her head in her hands. She jumped slightly feeling Y/n's hand close around her ankle, using her strength to drag the woman closer.

Once there was little space between them, Y/n carded her fingers through Agatha's hair, "That sounds awful, but I have to say, I'm glad you were alone" her grip tightened on the brown strands tugging her head back and exposing her neck, "I wouldn't want anyone else keeping you company."

Agatha's eyes closed as Y/n's lips met her neck, the feeling distracted her from the hand unfastening her jeans. She opened them when Y/n huffed with impatience. Agatha would have stopped to tease but she had waited too damn long for this. She made quick work of the pants and slid them down her smooth legs. The moment she was unoccupied Y/n hands were back on her, squeezing and rubbing every inch of skin almost as if she was confirming that Agatha was truly there.

Everyone else in Westview had seemed hallow, like a projection of a person, but Agatha was real. She was real and soft, and radiated heat.

Their mouths clashed against each other's and Agatha moved to straddle Y/n's leg. She slowly brought her hips down and rocked forward. Agatha broke the kiss as a shuddered breath left her. Purple clouds started gathering above the ruins, churning with energy. Peering above her, Y/n smirked at the display of uncontrolled magic. She could feel wetness gather on her thigh as Agatha's movements became rythmic, and the clouds above them rumbled.

Moaning into the other woman's mouth, Agatha's cunt clenched around nothing. Moving her hands to the woman's waist, Y/n forced her to move faster. Beads of sweat ran down Y/n's neck as the room grew humid, she looked at the beautiful woman above her, her wife. In act of pure possession she bit the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder, sinking her teeth in until she felt skin break. Agatha cried out and a loud crack sounded behind them, her hips stuttered to a halt and her toes curled at the sensation washing over her. Y/n ran her tongue over the bite soothingly and continued moving Agatha's hips until she pushed her away, overstimulated.

Cheeks flushed and out of breath, Agatha let out a laugh. Following her line of sight, Y/n turned to see what she was looking at. A spot on the floor was scorched.

It appeared as though lightening had struck.