hxneywrite - Tumblr blog

[hxneywrite]

fever (what a lovely way to burn)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, character with fever/illness, mild sensual content

Summary: request: "since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly."

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–” He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.” “N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

Monday, October 5, 1891

Even a month after the start of term, it’s unseasonably warm in the Highlands. The heat from the dog days of summer persists well into the arrival of autumn, permeating the ancient stone walls of the castle and settling like a thin layer of fog across Hogwarts’ students.

Professor Sharp’s N.E.W.T.s-level Potions class meets promptly at nine o’clock every morning. Despite the early time slot, the dungeon-level classroom starts to become warm rather quickly thanks to the heat of two dozen bodies and six potion stations, each with their flickering flames preheating the students’ pewter cauldrons.

Your little trio is usually the last to arrive from breakfast. Sebastian sidles up to the doorway just as Professor Sharp is preparing to close it, gallantly offering to hold it open for you and Ominis as you take your time sauntering down the hall, arms linked together and chatting happily about the latest gossip to have surfaced in the Great Hall.

Then you settle in at the potions table squarely in the middle of the classroom, which you’d unabashedly claimed at the start of term. (Ominis can hear Professor Sharp most clearly here, and Sebastian, as always, gets to remain the center of attention.)

Finally, with Ominis’ dictation quill hovering over his parchment, Professor Sharp begins his daily discourse.

“Dittany, as you’ll recall, is one of the most useful herbs for creating a wide range of healing draughts,” he explains, showing off a tendril of the fiercely pink plant clipped from Professor Garlick’s greenhouse just that morning. “Can anyone give me an example of one?”

“Wiggenweld Potion, sir,” Amit chimes in.

“Very good, Mister Thakkar,” Sharp replies with an approving nod. “Another?”

Adelaide Oakes timidly raises her hand. “Essence of Dittany, sir?”

“Well done, Miss Oakes,” he murmurs. “Though not as effective as a properly-brewed bottle of Wiggenweld, dittany on its own can be used to craft a powerful restorative tonic – especially useful in preventing the occurrence of scars. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Then Professor Sharp glances around the room expectantly. “One more, perhaps?”

“Moustache paste, sir?” Sebastian mumbles under his breath, and you quickly elbow him in the side.

“What was that, Mister Sallow?” Professor Sharp drawls.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Er, the Antidote to Common Poisons, perhaps?”

Professor Sharp levels Sebastian with a dubious look. “I’m afraid not. While dittany is a broadly useful herb, its powers are generally limited to healing, not curing. When considering its uses, think ‘paper cut,’ not ‘influenza.’”

You raise your hand and ask, “Sir, are there any potions that do cure illnesses?”

“Yes, in fact,” Professor Sharp answers. “The Pepperup Potion will quickly resolve any common colds or cases of the flu, with the enigmatic side effect of generating steam that will pour from your ears for hours on end.”

You wince a bit. “I suppose that’s worth being over a cold in a day.”

“I should think so,” he replies with a slight grin. “So has the majority of the wizarding world since the twelfth century.”

As Professor Sharp segues into a lecture on the history of healing potions, you pull out a piece of parchment and start to take down some notes.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “What does Pepperup Potion taste like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I’ve only had it once, and it was a decade ago.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t drink it,” Sebastian says simply. “I’m allergic to bicorn horn.”

You blink, surprised. “You’re… allergic? How did you even discover that about yourself?”

“Oh, it was gruesome,” Ominis chimes in gleefully.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well, I had my suspicions as a child when my parents gave me Pepperup Potion and steam poured out of my ears, nose, and mouth for a full week. Simply suffering through the cold would have been better.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“Well… in our third year, Anne and I made some Polyjuice Potion,” Sebastian admits, glancing around furtively. “We wanted to see if we could attend our classes all day as each other without anyone noticing the difference.”

“And Polyjuice Potion has bicorn horn,” you surmise.

Ominis looks delighted. “They were both in the Hospital Wing for three days, stuck as half-formed versions of each other.”

You gasp in disbelief. “That sounds awful!”

“It was the one and only time in their lives they were truly identical!” Ominis crows. “‘Sebastianne,’ we called them.”

You can’t help but giggle at Ominis’ delight while Sebastian sulks.

“In any case,” Sebastian grumbles, “I can’t take Pepperup Potion anymore, but luckily I never get sick.”

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “Everyone gets a common cold once in a while.”

“Not me,” he says proudly. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child. At the very least, if I have been sick, it must have been so mild that I wasn’t slowed down in the slightest – no need for Pepperup, thanks.”

“I’d be careful, Sebastian,” Ominis demurs. “Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would we?”

With a lazy shrug, Sebastian turns to his potions station and begins to roughly chop some dittany leaves for a new healing potion Sharp intends to teach that afternoon. He glances up surreptitiously while you tie your hair back with one of those green ribbons you like to keep around your wrist for when the Potions classroom becomes especially humid with cauldron steam.

Though it’s unwise to lose focus while holding a knife, Sebastian has become quite skilled at multitasking while tending to his lovesick heart with stolen glances and half-formed daydreams.

He becomes so distracted staring at the column of your neck that when he suddenly feels a bit dizzy, he merely attributes it to the thick, heavy air in the room.

—

Tuesday, October 6, 1891

“You look dreadful,” you tell Sebastian cheerfully as you take a seat at breakfast.

Across from you, Sebastian looks a sight. His generally unruly hair is sticking up in every direction, and his face, which until this morning had still been sun-kissed and freckled from his time carrying out summer chores in Feldcroft, is ghostly pale.

“Cheers,” he grumbles, his head in his hands as he stares down at a plate full of untouched tattie scones.

You know for a fact they’re his favorite. In fact, you’ve stolen countless scones from the Great Hall on weekends when he treats himself to a bit of a lie-in just to make sure there are some left for when he finally emerges, hair rumpled and cheeks creased with pillow lines.

“Late night?” you ask him as you pour yourself some juice.

“The opposite, actually,” Ominis explains. “Sebastian was asleep before I even finished my Runes assignment last night, and I practically had to drag him out of bed this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re usually up half the night reading. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sebastian shrugs weakly. “I’m fine, I just… It’s dreadfully warm in the castle, and my head is aching.”

Without thinking, you reach across the table and press the back of your hand against his forehead.

“You’re quite hot,” you mumble.

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers, his eyes going wide. “What did you do that for?”

“You have a fever,” you explain to him. “Old Muggle trick. And your eyes are quite glassy. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Ominis unsubtly slides further down the bench.

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian protests. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired.”

You eye him warily, and as if to prove that he’s not ill, Sebastian lifts one of his hoarded scones to his mouth and takes a bite.

“See?” he asks with his mouth full. “M’fine.”

You grimace. “Lovely.”

Sebastian determinedly joins you and Ominis for Potions and manages to remain upright until the very end of class. He sways just a bit as he gathers up his belongings, and you offer him your shoulder while you make your way toward the stairs to Divination.

He balks when he sees the twisting spiral steps.

“On second thought,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll skive off today and get some rest.”

“Will you be alright?” you ask him concernedly. “I can come with you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “I’ll just lie down for a bit and then I’ll be grand, I promise. Save a seat for me at dinner, will you?”

Later that evening you linger in the Great Hall until the last of dinner melts through the tables down to the kitchens below, but Sebastian never shows up.

—

Wednesday, October 7, 1891

“You do not want to go in there,” Ominis tells you warningly. “Trust me, he’s a mess.”

You scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sebastian still hasn’t emerged from his dormitory in nearly eighteen hours, and you’re starting to worry for him. Ominis had brought him back some food from dinner the night before, but according to him, it had gone untouched.

When he’d failed to show his face at breakfast, you knew you had to step in.

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” Ominis tries. “Sebastian is hardly a gentleman, but some things are sacred.”

“He’s our best friend,” you remind Ominis. “I really don’t care if he’s not entirely put together.”

Ominis opens his mouth as if to say more, and then seemingly changes his mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Professor Sharp you’re tending to Sebastian, and I’ll ask Amit if you can borrow his notes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Ominis,” you breathe, quickly pulling him in for a hug. “What would we do without you?”

“Rot in Azkaban, most likely,” he grumbles, which… is fair.

Once Ominis leaves for class, you gently knock on the seventh-year boys’ dormitory door. “Sebastian? Can I come in?”

Through the door, you hear him whine, “Go ‘way.”

“Sebastian,” you call out patiently. “Ominis told me you’re sick, and you haven’t gotten out of bed in too long. I’m coming in.”

He protests weakly from his bed as you open the door and slip inside, carefully pressing it closed behind you. As you’d expected, his other roommates have all gone for the day. Only Sebastian remains – or at least, you think it’s Sebastian.

All you can see sticking out from underneath the pile of pilfered blankets on his bed is a mess of curly, brown hair.

“Oh, dear,” you sigh.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he mumbles from beneath the covers. “...I think I’m sick.”

“Finally facing the music, are you?” you tease him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” he groans. “I’ve never been this ill before.”

“Should I take you to see Nurse Blainey?” you ask him. “I know you can’t have Pepperup Potion, but perhaps she has something else that would help.”

“No,” he sighs. “Ominis already sent for her, she said I’m a dafty and I’ll be fine in a coupl’a days.”

You bite back a laugh at Sebastian’s deteriorating accent; for how posh he usually sounds, apparently that rougher Feldcroft vernacular tends to slip out when he’s feeling poorly.

“Poor lamb,” you croon. “Can I do anything for you? Have you eaten?”

“M’not hungry,” he sulks. “Ominis made me drink some water before he left.”

You hum softly as you start to slowly pull his piles of blankets down low enough that you can see his face. Quickly you realize that Ominis had been exaggerating – Sebastian doesn’t look entirely a mess.

His eyes are a bit wet and glassy, you observe, and his nose is bright red from persistent rubbing with a handkerchief abandoned on his bedside table. He looks a little swollen beneath his jaw, but otherwise, he looks like he’d merely stayed awake all night, and you’ve seen a sleepless Sebastian countless times throughout your friendship.

There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw that you’ve never noticed before; it’s the same rich brown color as his wild, unkempt hair.

(Honestly, how dare he still look handsome even when he’s ill.)

“Hello, you,” you tease him in a voice just above a whisper. “Was beginning to wonder if you were even there under all those blankets.”

“I’m cold,” he complains.

“That’s the fever talking,” you tell him. “You should probably–”

But before you can tell him that he’d be better off with less covers, the blankets shift lower and you realize he’s not wearing a pajama shirt.

(Your disobedient mind immediately raises the question of whether he’s wearing anything at all, and subsequently, if you could get away with having a look. Immediately you scold that particular thought away.)

“Er, you should… don’t overheat yourself,” you finish lamely.

He’s flushed down to his chest, fever-pale skin burning red where the blankets had been piled on top of him. You discover that he’s got a thin smattering of hair here, too; he’s grown into the body of a man much sooner than many of your classmates, you imagine.

Sebastian watches as you swallow, your own eyes raking down his body.

“You’re missing class,” he observes. “You never miss class.”

“It’ll be alright, just this once,” you say softly.

For a moment you aren’t sure if you’re talking about missing class or being in Sebastian’s bed.

Then Sebastian suddenly starts to cough and hastily reaches for his handkerchief. He sounds utterly pathetic as he coughs and groans in discomfort, rolling onto his side and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“My chest hurts,” he whimpers. “I’ve been coughing all night.”

You reach across him and gently stroke the backs of your fingers down the middle of his chest. His skin is noticeably hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“I can put some Muggle herbs in a warm compress for your chest,” you offer. “I know they’re not as effective as a potion would be, but it always helped me feel better when I was a child.”

“Alright, I suppose that’d be nice,” he mumbles.

But when you move to stand, he quickly snags your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Er… where would you go? For how long?”

“Well, I’ll have to go see if Nurse Blainey has any, and if not I can go look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest,” you explain. “It might take a bit of time, I’m afraid.”

“Then, just… stay,” he whines. “Keep me company? That’s better than some plain old herbs.”

You shift onto the bed, curling up on your side behind Sebastian. It’s a tight fit, and you’re dangerously close to falling off the edge, but you’re able to leave enough space between your bodies that you can make the argument that it’s friendly, and it’s fine.

“Can I rub your back?” you ask him softly. “It might help with the soreness.”

You have no idea if it will help his aching body, but you’re eager to try it nonetheless.

“Go on,” Sebastian rasps. “I… I might fall asleep.”

“You should,” you croon. “Your body’s telling you that you need to rest.”

“S’pathetic,” he grumbles. “I never get sick.”

“You had a good run,” you tease him. “But the common cold comes for us all eventually.”

He falls silent after that, his leanly muscled arms curled around a pillow while you stroke your hand up and down the length of his back. He’s so warm, and you’re a bit anxious about letting him ride out a fever as long as he has, but soon he drifts off to sleep.

You learn two things while he rests: he snores when he’s on his back, and he frowns whenever you take your hands off of him.

—

Thursday, October 8, 1891

Ominis had managed to talk you into returning to your own dormitory for the night, promising to look after Sebastian while you got some rest. When you return the following morning, you find him in even worse condition.

His sheets are bunched down to his hips, and he’s still bare from the waist up. His entire body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the bags underneath his eyes have worsened – despite how much rest he’s getting, he seems more fatigued than ever.

“What happened?!” you ask Ominis.

“He’s had a fever all night,” Ominis says grimly, looking just as worn out as Sebastian. “He hasn’t eaten a thing, and I’ve barely been able to get him to drink some water.”

“Oh, Seb,” you sigh, taking his clammy hand and resting it in your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. “You poor thing.”

“I think I’m dying,” he rasps. “This is it, right?”

“Hush now, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” you gently scold him, pressing your hand to his forehead. “You’re quite warm, but I’m not worried about your imminent demise.”

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–”

He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.”

“N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

“You’ll feel better,” you promise him. “And I swear I won’t, er… look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You argue back and forth until Sebastian, utterly depleted of his typical stubbornness, loses energy and gives in. Ominis promises to stop by J. Pippin’s to see if the shopkeeper has any draughts suitable for Sebastian’s allergies before leaving to go to class, and you help Sebastian get out of bed with his arm around your shoulders and your own around his waist.

(He’s got pants on, thank Merlin, but you have to help him into a pair of pajamas to make the walk to the Slytherin baths.)

Sebastian balks when you enter the boys’ baths, but you both quickly learn there are no enchantments in place to keep you from joining him. You offer him an arm to lean on while he takes off his pajamas and coughs – this time pointedly – for you to turn around while he sinks into the lukewarm bath you’d drawn.

“This does feel nice,” he finally says once he’s settled in the opaque, murlap-scented water.

“Good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how your voice has gone up a bit higher than usual. “I’ll be back in a few moments with some fresh pajamas for you.”

“I’ll try not to drown while you’re gone,” he drawls, and even though he still sounds exhausted, you smile to yourself knowing that the bath is already helping him feel more like his usual self.

Hogwarts’ house elves were exceptionally fast in tidying up the boys’ dormitory while the two of you were out, so when you finally lead a clean, dry Sebastian back to his room, you’re thrilled to find freshly laundered sheets and a new pair of pillows waiting for him.

“Gods, I love magic,” he groans as he collapses into bed.

You stay all afternoon and into the evening. Ominis returns shortly before dinner with a brew from Parry Pippin himself, similar to the Pepperup Potion but with cinnamon instead of powdered bicorn horn.

(Sebastian seems to emit thin tendrils of steam straight from the top of his head after he drinks it, but he perks up all the same.)

Feenky herself brings a tray of soup and some leftover scones from breakfast once Sebastian regains his appetite. While he eats, he tells you about how he used to sit with Anne during the summers when she was particularly ill from her curse.

“At the time, I wondered if my being there was more of a help or a hindrance,” he says ruefully. “She was… hard to read, then. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by me or appreciated me staying.”

You pause before shyly asking, “Am I helping? By being here?”

“Of course,” he says without thinking.

“Then I’m sure you were helping Anne, even when she was annoyed,” you tell him reassuringly. “That’s all we ever want to do really, isn’t it? Help the ones we love?”

Sebastian glances up at his tray with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes are still glassy and he’s a bit peaky, but the cinnamon-laced, not-quite-Pepperup Potion has restored some of the usual warmth in his gaze.

“Right,” he echoes. “Help the ones we love.”

You end up staying the night in the boys’ dormitory. Only Ominis knows you’re there, as he draws the curtains around the both of you before the boys’ other roommates return from the common room. Given that Sebastian seems to be feeling better already, it’s not strictly necessary.

But it feels nice all the same.

—

Friday, October 9, 1891

Sebastian’s fever finally broke during the night.

When you wake up he’s wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs jammed between yours with his arm curled possessively around your waist.

You’re sweltering, but he’s cool to the touch.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Judging by the way sunlight pours over the top of Sebastian’s bed curtains, it’s well past when you’d usually wake up during the school week. You can’t hear any other snoring boys around you, either.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “Wake up.”

He groans tiredly into your hair as his arm tightens around your waist. “No.”

“N-no?!” you sputter. “It’s morning! We… we should, er.”

You trail off when you realize you aren’t quite sure what you should be doing. Evidently you’ve missed breakfast, and you’ve likely missed the start of Potions for the third day in a row. Professor Sharp will have no choice but to give you a detention; just as well, you suppose, as you can use the time to make up what you’ve missed.

But now that the damage is done…

“How are you feeling?” you ask him softly, your eyes still fixed on the green curtains in front of your face.

“Loads better,” he says, only this time his lips are pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You gasp as he rolls more of his weight toward you, pressing you more firmly into the mattress.

“Sebastian…” you sigh.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper beneath your ear. “I’ve heard Pepperup Potion can give one strange dreams.”

“St-strange?” you whisper back. “Why was it a strange dream?”

“I suppose it wasn’t really ‘strange,’” he acquiesces. “But it was nice. Really nice.”

“Tell me about it?” you ask breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’ll show you instead,” he asks, and when you nod, he slides his hand down to your hip and turns you onto your back.

Then quite suddenly he’s leaning over you, one knee still between your thighs. He rests on his elbows so his face is just centimeters from yours, and it’s the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him since the boys put out last night’s fire.

Sebastian looks so much better. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are clear and bright, and the sickly sheen of sweat he’d worn for days is entirely gone. (His hair is still a bird’s nest, but that’s to be expected.)

“We were like this,” he tells you.

“Were we just talking?” you ask him, but you’re met with only silence.

After a beat, he asks you, “Why have you been so kind to me this week?”

“You’re my best friend,” you tell him softly. “I – I wanted to help you feel better.”

“Is that all I am?” he asks. “Am I simply your friend?”

You bite your lip hesitantly and his gaze dips down to your mouth, his brown eyes nearly black in the soft morning light.

“Do you want to kiss me, Sebastian?” you ask.

Rather than answering, he surprises you by leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he lifts one of his hands to gently tip your face toward his, cradling your jaw while he deepens the kiss into one that’s hardly sweet at all.

It feels like it’s perhaps the first time in days that Sebastian has felt hunger.

You gasp his name into his mouth and then he’s the one biting your lip, just a quick graze of his teeth before he soothes your ensuing whine with another slow kiss. He shifts his weight onto his hip to rest on the mattress beside you, using that leg between yours to coax you into lying next to him. He rewards your body’s assent with a filthy kiss – the kind you’ve only read about in those Muggle romance novels you hide under your pillow, the kind where the hero kisses the girl with his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her blouse.

“Seb,” you moan.

“I didn’t know,” he confesses against your lips.

“Didn’t know what?” you whine.

“I didn’t know you loved me until last night,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

You’re so distracted by how red and swollen his lips look that you nearly miss him saying, “You stayed with me all week, you held me, practically healed me, and I still didn’t know.”

“Of course I love you,” you tell him.

“You love Ominis, you love Poppy,” he counters. “This – us – is different. Right?”

And the truth is, you would have done anything you’d done for Sebastian for any one of your friends. You would have helped Poppy into a warm bath and back into bed, and you would have sat at Ominis’ bedside all day and torn up pieces of scone to float on the surface of his soup.

But you would not have let them press you into their bedsheets and trace their lips along your neck, and right now Sebastian is eagerly doing both.

“Yes,” you whimper, both in answer to his question and as a plea for more.

“I love you, too,” he sighs against your jaw. “I have for ages, and I didn’t want you to see me all pathetic and poorly, but you still love me anyway.”

“I’ve loved you through worse,” you quietly remind him.

He nips at your throat for that remark; you’ve both agreed to speak of your fifth year as little as possible. Truly, the only reason you’d ever bring it up now is to remind Sebastian that you’ve long since made your choice – him, over duty and the law and perhaps even reason.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “We have all morning, we have the dormitory to ourselves. Let me take care of you now.”

He pulls your thigh across his own and tangles his fingers in your sleep-mussed hair, holding you against his warm, bare chest.

“That’s tempting,” you breathe. “B-but perhaps we should check with Nurse Blainey, to see if you’re ready to return to–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he grinds his hips against yours. There’s no mistaking that he’s aroused, and that alone convinces you that he must be feeling well – you’re positive that he would’ve been too weak for this type of debauchery yesterday morning even if you’d gotten fully nude before him and begged.

“Trust me, I feel excellent,” he moans into your mouth. “Love, please.”

You don’t come up for air for a long while after that. By the time Ominis stops by during lunchtime to check on Sebastian, he nearly trips over your skirt, hastily tossed near the doorway.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” he deadpans.

“That potion of yours worked like a charm, Ominis,” Sebastian drawls. “Cinnamon, who would have thought?”

“I don’t suppose I mentioned that Muggles find cinnamon to be an organic aphrodisiac?” Ominis says innocently. “At least, that’s what Mister Pippin said. He told me you might have some rather amorous dreams while you recover.”

“No, I think you forgot to mention that,” Sebastian replies just as innocently.

Ominis simply hums and says, “Well, now that you’ve been made aware, I’ll be off to Herbology. I’d recommend locking the door if our dear friend is going to be keeping you company this afternoon, Sebastian.”

You’re too embarrassed to say a word, but Sebastian cheerfully thanks him as he pulls the door shut and reaches for his wand on his bedside table to magically lock it behind him.

“We’ve become menaces,” you whine as he rolls on top of you once more.

Sebastian grins wickedly down at you. “Not yet we haven’t, but thank Merlin we’ve got all afternoon.”

[hxneywrite]

well these are my fav pics of seb I’ve ever made

[hxneywrite]

curesarcoma.org/donate

You'll be missed, Techno. Blood for the blood god.

[hxneywrite]

when you’re too much of a coward to have mutuals but here are some creators i really love!!

@genesisrose74 @starlighterss @nihachulovebot @baless

another tag game!!!

make yourself in this picrew and tag your friends !! <3

@gxldendream​ @cakieinnit​ @gh0st1e3​

[hxneywrite]

so im working on the next part of wings of hope and I don't know how many parts i should make, debating between 3 and 5. would you guys read that many parts? let me know! 🐝

[hxneywrite]

i loved ur 'home' fic it was so good :] keep up the great work

thank you so much this really means a lot!! might bry ngl 🥺🥺

[hxneywrite]

ahhhhhh!! can’t believe one of my favorite writers has read my stuff but thank you!!

I think I dropped a Wilbur fic idea in your inbox, but have you perchance seen anyone else that writes for him? I could always use some fic recommendations 👀

I actually have a few recommendations for you there 😌✨ lemme list a couple of my favorites, and just a note that my main recs as of right now involve Ghostbur’s character because timing of the SMP and I also just love him,,, yeah❤️

*****

@strawberry-fic - “Cold Food” HIT SO HARD AKFKLSD — They have a couple ghostbur fics and a Pog2020! Wilbur fic in their masterlist as of right now, so I encourage you to check their stuff out!

@mcyt-brainr0t - I haven’t had a chance to look at their masterlist yet but they wrote a Ghostbur fic called “Blueberry Pie” and it was really cute!!

@starlighterss - MORE GHOSTBUR!! She writes him in character so well and is a big sweetheart from my skimming visits on her blog 🥰 I don’t know if there’s a masterlist yet for all her completed fics, but check her out anyways and look through because she writes very well.

@starsandsoulmates - came across “Chaos Runs in the Family” and LOVED IT SM,,, characterization was solid and it brought me back to the good times post-Lmanburg’s independence war 😌 I needed that

@sleepysoupi - okay just saying that the entire vibe of her account pages are stunning and I love it so much, not to mention the extensive masterlist and good writing, so ya go check it out 👉👈

@hxneywrite - not only a mcyt writer but a haikyuu author as well (we love to see it)! I stumbled across the platonic sbi x adopted reader fic called “Wings of Hope” and omfg it was so cute!! Relatively newer account but I believe the request box is open for fics and you could put one in there!

[hxneywrite]

part two to 'wings of hope' i think it was called, the sbi x gn!winged!child!reader only if you want to tho -hairbrush anon

im working on it right now!! hopefully i can get it out sometime tomorrow or friday!

[hxneywrite]

Can I just say, I found your blog through Wings of Hope and I'm in love with your writing style!!! It was amazing and I would definitely read more of it if you ever decide to make more parts of the au with the winged reader!!! Keep up the great writing!!!

oh my gosh thank you so so much!! i didn’t think this many people would like it! im starting on part 2 tonight 🐝🐝

[hxneywrite]

Maybe a pt 2 for wings of hope? If not that’s fine I just really loved it and it was so well written so kudos!!

thank you so much!! i glad you liked it, im definitely gonna work on the second part soon :)

[hxneywrite]

WINGS OF HOPE IS SO GOOD! YOU ARE A GREAT WRITER!!!

oh my gosh thank you so much!! it’s my first time writing anything like this and im so happy that people like it!!

[hxneywrite]

wings of hope

pairing: platonic!sbi x gn!winged!reader

warnings: mentions of injury and blood

summary: when walking though the forest, Philza finds an injured child and knows he can’t just let them go. what’s one more kid when he already has three? the special thing though is that this child has wings, just like him

a/n: I don't know how i feel about this, kinda just wrote and this kinda just happened. also name is hella cringy so if you have a better one let me know. hopefully part 1 of many but that’s if you guys want to see more :) my requests are open so please send in anything!! i need inspiration

☆ before you stumbled into Philza’s life, he could not imagine taking in another kid

☆ by this time, Techno and Wibur were already thirteen, off and about playing with swords and bows, and little Tommy just breaching the age of seven

☆ but one day Phil found himself wandering the forest near his house (Tommy had insisted on building a Big Man Treehouse, and who was he to go against the whims of a pouty child) collecting a fair amount of wood, when he heard a small whine

☆ at first he assumed it was some wild animal, unfortunately caught in a trap or something, but then the whines formed into what resembled almost words, and finally it dawned upon him whatever it was was saying ‘help’

☆ Phil dropped the planks that’d been previously balanced in his arms, and started towards the sound 

☆ (in the back of his head scolding himself for how reckless he was being, what if it was a trap? or even just a mob he’d have to kill)

☆ but as he rounded the corner all former worries were dashed away when he saw the source of the cries

☆ a small child, no doubt smaller than they should be judging by the distinct bulging of ribs against the too loose tunic. they had matted hair, and skinny little legs, covered in small gashes and bruises from trudging through the forest. Phil duly noted the absence of shoes, but what really caught his attention was what rested behind you.

☆ a pair of small little wings. they couldn’t have been longer than a meter as they curled protectively around your shivering body. what Phil could only imagine as once beautiful feathers were completely destroyed. the long feathers essential for flying were clipped, now just long jagged edges. and the warm golden brown feathers dyed red and brown with dirt and blood.

☆ all of this put together certainly raised alarms in Phil’s head. and every single fiber of his being was screaming at him to help the child.

☆ so he did. calmly walking over to where you had been slumped against a tree trunk. your eyes trailed after the man, wary, but too tired to fight. his heart twinged sadly with the realization that you had given up. no longer fighting for anything. 

☆ “hello there,” he started, a kind smile gracing his face that almost put you at ease, “my name is Philza. what are you doing out here?” 

☆ you gave no response, your focus instead on the two lumps hidden underneath his cloak. Phil took notice and smiled again, before unfurling his own wings for you to see.

☆ you couldn’t contain the gasp that left your mouth. 

☆ “see, i'm just like you.” “you’re just like me.” you felt yourself echo. before timidly looking at the man once again. 

☆ “may, may i touch them?”

☆ Phil just smiled and nodded, even extending one black wing towards your waiting hands. with a delicacy he wouldn’t expect from someone your age (what even was your age, he wondered) you glided your hand over each feather. petting and caressing with the stars in your eyes. his wings were huge! feathers large and healthy, shimmering in the afternoon sun. they looked strong, and nothing like your own pathetic excuse for wings.

☆ Phil decided right then that maybe he did need a fourth child. and nobody could stop him from caring for this kid who was just like him. 

☆ you actually followed after him with such little complaint it alarmed Phil a little, wondering if your parents never taught stranger danger (though now that he thought about it, maybe you didn’t have parents), you only told him a polite ‘no’ when he asked if you had anywhere to go, and an even sweeter ‘yes’ when he asked if you wanted to go home with him. his heart warmed at how happy you looked at the word home.

☆ now he only had one problem: his boys. over the years his little family had found a happy medium, fighting was a given but so were movie nights and loud breakfasts and falling asleep together on the couch. Techno had finally started letting Wilbur actually train with him, instead of the usually relentless beatdown. and Tommy had gone three days without lighting anything one fire, which was a win for the family. but how would you fit in? Phil knew you would be a perfect addition, or so he hoped. but he mostly just hoped that his trio of rambunctious boys wouldn’t scare you off. 

☆ he looked down at you, now asleep in his arms, as he trudged back to his little cottage in the clearing. he couldn’t help but marvel at your wings. he knew how rare it was to be born like that, himself being one of three people he had met in his whole life to had the ability to fly. and he couldn’t help the spike of anger he felt looking at your damaged feathers. it was no accident, someone had hurt you. the very thought simmering a cold rage in his heart. but he couldn’t worry about that now, not when he sees his home in the distance.

☆ the first thing Wilbur noticed when his dad walked through the door was the frown on his face. which usually meant he was in trouble (but that wouldn’t make sense cause he hadn’t even done anything today, he hadn’t even bullied Tommy! or at least not that much). Wilbur had actually spent the day working on a new song on his guitar, and had raced downstairs just to show Phil. but then his eyes landed on the bundle in Phil’s arms, which he had originally assumed was wood, but wood doesn’t have feathers. 

☆ Wilbur was going to ask about the unknown feathery mass, but Techno, ever the observant one, beat him to it. 

☆ “dad,” suspicion laced Techno’s voice, “what’s in your arms?” 

☆ “well, i was out in the woods getting wood, and i found them.” Phil took this opportunity to bend down and unveil what rested in his arms, which Wilbur now realized was a kid. a kid with wings! “so i kinda, took them with me because i couldn’t just leave them out there.” 

☆ Tommy had come out from whatever mayhem he was causing to peak out from behind Wilber. 

☆ “you just took them? you know that’s kidnapping right?” Techno couldn’t help but point out. Wilber knew better than to take his biting words seriously. he knew Techno could see the same thing as him: dark stains of blood blotted along your body. both did not mind the new person in their house if i meant getting them help.

☆ “i know son, but they need help, and i expect all of us to welcome them and help them. understood?” the way Phil looked at them made it not seem like a question. but the three boys nodded along nonetheless.

☆ “great, Wilbur, can you run a bath for them. and can you fetch the first aid kit Techno?”

☆ both boys complied, dashing to where they were told. while Phil took this time to bring you to the living room, Tommy trailing not too far behind, to lower you onto the plush couch. 

☆ Techno and him both came racing down the stairs, an unspoken competition over who would make it down first (Techno won but only because Wilbur was afraid of what Phil may do if he accidentally fucked up the first aid kit)

☆ soon the two came to stop on either side of Phil, who had been kneeling in front of you, peering down at your small frame.

☆ when your eyes open, wide and innocent, but also tired and sad, a small smile on your lips upon seeing them, they all knew that you would be a permanent addition to this household. if not to keep that smile on your face.

[hxneywrite]

mcyt masterlist

here is all of my mcyt works!

click here to check out my rules and about section

sbi

wings of hope - platonic!sbi x gn!winged!reader ; fluff & lil angst

when walking though the forest, Philza finds an injured child and knows he can’t just let them go. what’s one more kid when he already has three? the special thing though is that this child has wings, just like him

[hxneywrite]

hello!

i’m honey!! this is a multi-fandom blog that I’m going to be on and off writing so I apologize if I am inconsistent.

i am currently focusing on mcyt right now, but i will probably expand more later.

my asks and personal tag is #honey talks if you want to block it

i write headcanons, drabbles, and fics

requests are CLOSED

haikyuu masterlist

mcyt masterlist

rules! (mostly for mcyt)

i will write platonic stories for anyone (who says they are comfortable with fanfiction)

i will write romantic only for adult, in-game characters (where the creator says they are comfortable with fanfiction)

i will not be writing and nsfw just because i am not comfortable in my skills for it right now, but maybe in the future

if any of the creators have stated they do not want fanfiction to be written of them, and i have, please let me know and i will immediately take it down

anyways hope you enjoy!! 🐝🌿

[hxneywrite]

haikyuu masterlist

here is all of my haikyuu works!

click here to check out my rules and about section

fukurodani

owl’s den - fukurodani x reader ; fluff

general hc and fluff if you were the fukurodani manager

misq.

theatre au - no pairing

just what i think haikyuu would be like in theatre

[hxneywrite]

this came to me like a prophet recieves messages from god,

anyway, haikyuu theatre au

karasuno

Actors

⁃ suga - senior pretty boy, everyone likes him but never managers to land the leads

⁃ kiyoko - senior pretty girl, lands the female lead, but is in fact a lesbina

⁃ tanaka - joined theatre cause for some reason thought he’d pull women but then stuck around for the homies

⁃ nishinoya (part time crew) - same as tanaka but also shows up for crew and is lowkey a carpenter god

⁃ yamaguchi - actually a pretty talented actor, working on doing better

⁃ hinata - energetic and sweet, all the upperclassman love him

⁃ ennoshita- extra 1 feels bad

⁃ narita - extra 2

⁃ kinoshita - extra 3

Crew

⁃ daichi - sm, done with everyone’s shit, deadass

⁃ asahi - lights, chills alone with lights but really enjoys his craft

⁃ kageyama - techie (failed the audition) dumbass thought he could follow oikawa but can’t act, second best thing and is lowkey really good at transitioning and hitting cues

⁃ tsukishima - soundboard, joined cause of yamaguchi but saw how pathetic their sound was and had to save them, bless up

⁃ yachi - paint master cause nobody else is capable, everyone listens to her cause she baby

seijoh

Actors

⁃ oikawa - you already know he’s that bitch, everyone in the department hates him while the girls love him, but is begrudgingly one of the best actors so what can you do

⁃ hanamaki - chill upperclassman, just there for fun and enjoys it, probably like small speaking roles

⁃ matsukawa - same as makki, the dynamic duo

⁃ yahaba - lowkey stuck up actor, things he’s hot shit, like chill sophomore

crew

⁃ iwaizumi - right stage manager, literally over it but does his job well and is the only one that can handle oikawa’s bs smh

⁃ kyoutani - techie (hates everyone), looks up to iwaizumi but is a lil too aggressive with the stage stuff so if forced onto rails

nekoma

actors

⁃ yaku - gets stuck with bitch ass roles and always complains

⁃ lev - horrible actor but gets cast cause tall yk

⁃ yamamoto - high enthusiasm, okay acting

⁃ inouka - freshie actor but vv cute

crew

⁃ kuroo - left sm, is an asshole but also good at his job, his is the chill side but will also fuck up actors deadass

⁃ kenma - spotlights (absolute recluse during crew), just vibing and is only here cause of kuroo and stays for hinata

shiratorizawa

actor

⁃ ushijima - lowkey bad actor but is hot so what can you do

⁃ goshiki - freshie part 2 but the one every makes fun of

⁃ semi - hot actor everyone crushes on but the director always overlooks

⁃ shirabu - that lowkey sophomore actor that is probably gonna be the lead when seniors grad

crew

⁃ tendou - techie that fucks with the actors, you already know

misq.

actor

⁃ bokuto - y’all know this loud af boi is an actor, puts a lot of effort but is kinda only okay

⁃ atsumu - bitch ass junior who is a really good actor but you also hate him

⁃ hoshiumi - is a good actor but his height makes him never the lead, cursed to do child roles

⁃ terushima - that chill actor that everyone hangs with and is there for the parties

crew

⁃ akaashi - ASM, literally a god and everyone loves him

⁃ osamu - does tech and absolutely hates his brother

⁃ sakusa - prop master and absolutely hates it, nobody knows why he still does it but is the only one able to maintain props

⁃ aone - just vibes tbh, nobody really knows exactly what he does but he’s good at everything

⁃ suna - bitch ass techie, fucks around and messes with atsumu too

⁃ kita - wisened construction, so chill and does everything perfectly even when he’s bullshitting

other headcanons include

⁃ dachi being the theatre ghost

⁃ there is a sex couch and everyone blames oikawa for it but it was actually bokuto and akaashi

⁃ cast party ragers used to be at rich boy ushijimas house but they accidentally trashed it so now it’s at unsuspecting goshiki

⁃ yaku once had to cross dress for a show and is still salty about it

⁃ everyone had a crush on akaashi

⁃ work parties are literally the worst cause only a few ppl actually do stuff (cough yachi, asahi, and sakusa) and the others should not be trusted with power tools

yes they are all in the same school and theatre program, yes i know how japanese school grades work, it’s just they have the american school energy, still debating director,

[hxneywrite]

ﾟ+｡:.ﾟReblog this post if you are a Haikyuu!! imagines writer! ﾟ.:｡+ﾟ

If you are a Haikyuu!! imagines/scenarios blog or a writer of self/reader-insert and ocs, please reblog this post so I can collect all of the urls and promote you! If you are a reader, feel free to reblog/reply with the urls of your favorite writing blogs!