#A Cold Highland Wind

[jolieeason]

October 2023 Wrap-Up

Here is what I read/posted/won/received/bought in October. As always, let me know if you have read any of these books and (if you did) what you thought of them. Books I Read: Books Reviewed: The Parachutists by R.L. Minnich—review here (4 stars) Tantalus Depths by Evan Graham—review here (4 stars) The Intern by Michele Campbell—review here (4 stars) A Cold Highland Wind by Tasha…

[eoinmcgonigal]

09: Bill/Johnny

Sloowly getting through @almost-a-class-act 's wonderful prompts! This one is: Character A has just moved in and it's Character B's turn to tell the new neighbour the neighbourhood's dark secret…

Now, I've set this in rural Scotland. I've given Bill the appropriate language, but I have zero idea how to actually spell it. It's one of the stupidest things I've ever written, but no, I'm not taking it back. Bill Fraser is a teuchter now (for this fic at least).

War is Helloween

-

He’s seen him before. In the darkness of the countryside, folk illuminated only by the built-up bonfire, the occasional sweeps of torches, and the sparkers the children run around squealing with, Bill finds himself looking towards the stranger. It’s hard not to notice newcomers around here, and especially not ones so handsome they turn heads wherever they go. The blond hardly seems like he belongs amongst countryfolk and farmers, but he’s ended up at the fireworks display on the brae all the same. Bill first saw him two days ago in the village shop, where he was with a young woman, a babe in her arms. His sister, the gossip says. Bill’s already heard the older folk muttering about it, wondering where the husband is, and what the brother is doing here. He’s sure he’ll hear all the news the next time he goes to the Fife Arms, whether he wants to or not.

He can’t deny feeling curious, though. Not much changes around here—not usually for the better, at any rate. Besides, the man is good-looking. Johnny Cooper. There’s something about him that catches Bill’s eye, and makes him half want to go over.

He doesn’t, though. Johnny is surrounded by some of the farmers’ wives, and is gratefully accepting bonfire toffee. Bill’s mouth is still sweet with the rare joy of it, Jenny Grant’s recipe as good as he remembers from childhood. It’s as warming to him as the bright fire that’s been built to last, and he’ll try to get another few pieces off of her before he heads back home.

Until then, he stands in the cold November night, waiting. A few friends and folk have drifted by, stopping to chat, offering him a beer, and he nods and listens to the words they have to say, contributing here and there. He finds himself standing in a loose group of men, their attention turning towards the pitch dark beyond the fall of the firelight when a faint torchlight flickers there. Johnny is still on the other side of the little gathering when the fireworks begin. Bill looks away from him, to enjoy the display. It’s nothing like the big, fancy ones he sees on the telly. He wonders what Johnny makes of it. If he likes it here, or if he thinks as little of this place and its people as townfolk usually do, the way of life too small and simple to be worth noticing in their opinion. Plenty outsiders have bulldozed in and then drifted away again, not taking to the lifestyle, or simply missing the glittering lights and apparently comfort of bustle.

Bill likes it here, though. It’s home. He watches the fireworks light up the darkness, and feels something ancient and primal tug at his heart. You can’t feel this anywhere else, he thinks as a chill breeze stirs around the little gathering.

When the last firework is spent, all that’s left is the warmth of the fire, and the people around it. Bill soaks it up, lingering as people start drifting home—the folks with younger kids first, then others following. He snags some more of Jenny’s bonfire toffee, and sees that Johnny is just drifting from the circle of firelight. There’s a set to his shoulders, a sense of purpose about him that makes Bill’s blood run cold.

Half running, he catches up with the man. “Oi!” he calls out.

Jumping, Johnny turns around, laughing. “You scared me!” He’s grinning, the distant fireglow softly picking out the features of his face.

“Far ye gaun?”

A blank look. Bill gestures out at the darkness.

“Yer car? Far’s it at?”

“Oh!” Understanding dawns on Johnny’s face, his smile softening but not fading. “My sister has it. I was going to walk.”

“Tae the village?”

“Um, yes?”

The cold feeling in Bill’s blood grows more profound. “Ye cannae dae that,” he warns.

“No?” Johnny looks around, out into the darkness. “I mean, it’s only two and a half miles?”

Bill shakes his head. “Ye’ll no mak it.”

“Um,” Johnny breathes. He’s not smiling any more. “But I came—”

“Ah’ll gi ye a lift,” Bill insists. “Or, if ye rither, ony ae the fowk here wull gi ye a lift. Just dinnae wauk it an yer ain, aye?”

“O–okay?”

The distant, warm glow of the fire is reflected in the blond’s wide eyes, and Bill suspects that, while he might have got the gist, he’s a bit dazed. Another chill curl of wind swirls around them, and they both shiver.

That seems to decide it. Relenting, Johnny moves closer to Bill. “Where’s your car?”

Bill points back towards the other side of the gathering. “Mandy’ll be glad tae tak ye, if ye’d rither.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m good.” After a few paces, Bill hears a shift in fabric, and a hand is drawn out of a pocket and offered to him. “I’m Johnny, by the way.”

“Aye, Ah ken,” Bill nods. It’s an awkward angle to shake someone’s hand at, the gesture out of place here. He lets it happen, though, giving Johnny a brief, firm squeeze of a handshake. Johnny’s hands are cold, but there’s a warmth that transfers to Bill at the touch. Stickiness too. They’ve both had toffee. It’s the reason Bill hasn’t pulled his glove back on.

He pulls them on now, knowing it’ll be cold for the first few minutes, until the car heats up. There’s a heavy jacket on the passenger’s seat, which he pulls out of the way as soon as he gets in, the wellies in the footwell joining the jacket on the back seat.

Johnny looks so out of place as he gets in, the harsh interior light of Bill’s car making him look pale. He’s probably cold, Bill realises.

“Ye cauld?”

Rubbing his hands against his thighs, Johnny nods. Bill pulls the jacket forward again, offering it over.

“Hae a shottie o this till the heatin kicks in.”

“Thank you.”

They fall into silence as the light dims and Bill starts the engine. He rolls slowly out onto the single track road that winds its way down the brae and towards the village. They’re near to the planted forest of Norwegian pine when Johnny finally speaks again.

“What’s wrong with walking?”

The headlights fall strangely on the pines for a moment, and Bill watches the shadows shift. “Naebody wauks atween the braes an the village this tid o year.”

In the pause, Bill tries to work out how to explain what people usually figure out, if they move here early enough in the year, or if they have any sense.

“Why not?”

It’s best to keep it simple. “Fowk disappear.”

“They get lost? Isn’t there only one road?”

There is, and it follows the contours of the land, the fall and rise and then fall again down into the village. They are clear of the trees now, and in the gully that curves to the left, is a burn. It’s impossible to see in the dark—the headlights don’t peer down over the edge. “Aye,” Bill has to agree. “Bit thare’s mae tae it then that.”

Beneath Bill’s jacket, Johnny shifts, shivering. Bill reaches out to turn the heat up.

“I’m fine,” Johnny insists. “I just… don’t get it.”

“Dae ye wint tae?”

“I guess?”

They’re one bend away from being within sight of the village, and Bill feels like he can speak easier when he sees the warm glow of the streetlights. He doesn’t need to ask where Johnny lives. Everyone knows.

“Thare’s simmat oot there, simmat auld.”

“Something?” Bill catches the crease of worry lining Johnny’s brow. “Like… an animal?”

“No quite. Hiv ye nae feelt it?”

“No?”

They turn into the lane that leads quickest to Johnny’s home. From the tone of his voice, the uncertainty wavering in it, Bill suspects that Johnny has felt it.

“What is it?”

Bill doesn’t quite know how to answer that. As he pulls up, he leaves the engine running, heat starting to spill enthusiastically into the car. The light from the streetlamps has a different quality to it than the firelight, but, as uneasy as he looks, Johnny still looks handsome. Beautiful, even. It’s warmth like that that keeps the cold and the darkness from taking over everything.

“The lan.”

Johnny blinks. “The land?”

“Aye, this place. Atween the noo an Februar, it’s hungert fae wairmth. Dinnae wauk ootae the village aifter dark.”

“Seriously?” In the safety of warmth and light, scepticism steals over Johnny.

“Aye. Ask aebody,” Bill promises. “Fa telt ye tae come up the braes oniehoo?”

“Um… Mitch? Mitchel?”

“Eejit,” Bill mutters. He can believe that Mitchel forgot to make sure Johnny was getting there and back safely, although he’s of no mind to let the man get away with it when Bill sees him next.

Johnny is toying with the collar of Bill’s jacket. “So this wasn’t some elaborate ploy to get me alone?”

“Elaborate?” Bill echoes. “No, Ah wantit tae mak sure ye got hame safe.”

“I was joking,” Johnny smiles, and Bill realises that maybe he was, but perhaps he wasn’t. He lets out a breath, not sure what to say.

As his jacket is offered back to him, Bill takes it mutely, looking at Johnny’s hands, then up at the beautiful but utterly unprepared young man.

“Thank you, um…”

Bill waits as the silence drags on.

“You didn’t tell me your name.”

Oh. Right. “Bill,” he supplies, aware of the way his cheeks have started to flush. It’s annoying, and he reaches out to turn the heating down. “Ah mean it,” he impresses on Johnny. “Ye haftae stay safe.”

“I will,” Johnny says, with what feels like the right amount of sincerity.

“Good,” Bill nods.

“Thank you, Bill.”

Johnny already said that, but it’s nice to hear it again.

“Good night.”

“Nicht,” Bill answers.

Reaching for the door handle, Johnny goes still. “Um…” he turns around again, his mood tentative. “What was that sweet stuff?”

“The bonfire toffee?”

“I think so. I’ve not had it before. Do you know the recipe?”

Bill does not, but he knows where it’s written down in the old cookbook that used to be his grandmothers. “No, but Ah can get it fae ye.”

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“Nae bither.”

When Johnny smiles again, Bill gets the feeling that Johnny would be quite happy to linger here a while longer. He’d be happy if he did. All that lies ahead of Bill is the dark drive home.

“See you soon?” Johnny seems to hope.

Bill nods. “Aye.”

With a bright smile that brings something of the sun to the night, Johnny goes.

Bill isn’t entirely sure if Johnny will pay heed to the warning or dismiss it as nonsense, but what he does know is that the long winter ahead is going to be much easier to bear if he has a chance of seeing that beautiful smile again.

[ghouljams]

Læknir [Chapter 5]

prev part

Tags: Viking au, Viking!Soap, highlander!reader, healer!reader, Soap x f!reader, medical procedures, bodily fluids(blood and puss), slow burn, Gaz is here Hi Gaz

Summary: It's funny, you don't even think about what your participation means, whether it will be seen as compliance, or an acceptance of your situation. You're a healer, and you have patients to treat.

You peak over the fur lined bedroll you’d spent most of the night tossing and turning on. Mactavish sits beside you in the same cross legged position he took last night. His eyes are fixed on the tent’s flap, something cold and impenetrable holding his features. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you pity him. You don’t know for what, or why, but the moment is broken when his eyes dart to yours. He seems to pull his charm on like a well worn cloak, his smile bright enough you almost miss the way it barely touches his eyes. You wonder if he slept any better than you did, if he slept at all. Though any sleep would be better than what you got. Every shift in the wind had woken you last night, every creaking footstep, every howl of some poor distant animal making your bones quake. You’ve been brave enough for a lifetime, you’re not stupid enough to sleep.

“You were busy last night,” Mactavish quips as you sit up. You shoot him a quick glare, and don’t bother entertaining his teasing. The soft grey light of morning is filtering in under the tent flap and you’d rather be up before anyone can force you up. “There’s breakfast,” He tries a different approach.

“You don’t have anyone better to bother?” You ask him quickly, biting the hand that tries to feed you. He doesn’t flinch.

“Captain hasn’t come lookin’ for me yet.”

As if on cue the tent flap is pulled aside. You’re unsurprised to see a viking, you wish you could find it a relief that it’s one you almost recognize. The dim morning light washes all the warmth from his dark skin, but Mactavish smiles a little more genuinely when he sees him. Having more men in the tent makes you nervous, you try not to let it show on your face.

“Captain wants-” Your tired brain does its best to translate as the viking speaks, you pick up on pieces of words, try to parse together a sentence. You catch the tail end of it, “out” and try not to settle yourself in doom. Mactavish nods. You always fancied yourself smart for being able to translate an unfamiliar tongue. He makes you feel stupid, a viking better than you at something you prided yourself on.

He speaks in the harsh tongue easily, pulls the words together like a musician. You hear his tone shift to the affirmative, and a “Thanks mate.” in your own tongue. You wonder if you’ll fall into such easy switches. You hope not. You hope that this tongue, this culture keeps its hooks out of you for as long as it takes you to find a way to freedom. Mactavish turns his attention to you.

“Gaz is gonna take you around to check the other men,” He tells you. Gaz. You file the name away for future reference. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, some sick rolling thing in your stomach hates him for abandoning you so soon after stealing you away. His brows draw together in confusion, you wonder if he knows what made you ask, if he thinks you have any sort of draw to him.

“Have to deal with a couple things, you’ll be alright without me,” He assures you, “Gaz won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”

You glance at Gaz, he smiles at you. Again you find a spark of pity in his eyes. You wish he’d turn that wretched emotion on someone else.

Mactavish touches your arm and you jerk away from him, his fingers tighten into a fist in response, almost as quickly as you’d moved. You don’t bother looking at him, despite the way you feel him stare, and grab your pack as you move around him, ducking under Gaz’s arm and into the open air. The morning’s chill makes you deflate a little.

The high cliff face separating the beach from the highlands feels insurmountable. A giant wall set up between you and the life you once led. You’re struck by the gnawing pit in your stomach that whispers to you, you can never go home. Gaz comes to stand beside you, eyes fixed on the dark cliffs. He must have come from somewhere too, right? What does he see, what wall has been erected by the gods to stop him? You push the thought from your mind. Pity does nothing and serves no one. It’s a connection you’re eager to set yourself apart from.

“Over here,” Gaz tells you, turning away from the cliff and walking towards the still burning fire. He doesn’t touch you, and for that you’re grateful. You follow after him, if you’re going to pretend to be a healer you may as well make a play at actually healing.

Vikings huddle around the fire, talking and laughing, the warmth of it still radiates strong, the smoke still billows. It’s funny how much you can hate something that once brought you so much comfort. Your eyes fix on it too long.

“Læknir,” Gaz calls, and you jerk your head, sure he’s talking to you. You file the word away, ashamed to think you might ask Mactavish about it later. “Look after the men,” He continues once he has your attention. You glance at the vikings sitting around the fire, and nod. If you’re going to survive, and you must survive, it’s better to be a healer.

There’s a palpable distance between you and the vikings. Gaz hovers nearby, waiting to help translate as best he can, and you catch the other men glancing at him occasionally, but for the most part the vikings don’t stop their conversations as you check them over. Most are in good health. Their scars are pink and silver, others more purple, healing, healed, well taken care of. You wonder what their healers back home are like.

You poke at one of the viking’s shoulders and he hisses. You’re quick to grab at his cloak, tugging at the fur to get a better look at what’s causing him pain. Your bedside manner has always left something to be desired. The viking looks startled, more confused than you really expected him to be. You give another tug and he grabs at the edge of his cloak to wrap it around himself more securely. Big baby.

Gaz says something, covering barely contained anger. The viking responds and Gaz hums. “Læknir,” He settles a hand on your shoulder and you glance at him, “you need to ask.”

You look back at the viking who looks a little put out by your insistent yanking. You- you think you were hurting him. You forgot. You forgot that you could hurt these men. Something akin to guilt flashes hot in your stomach, twists in on itself until you feel sick. It isn’t the fact you’ve hurt someone that does it.

It’s the way you want to feel good about hurting him. You want to feel some sort of vindication, like this is their penance for stealing you away. If you can hurt them, maybe you can do more than just bide your time. The thought sickens you. You hope there never comes a day where these men force you to become as violent as they are.

“I need to look,” You tell the viking in your stilted, inelegant translation, “please.”

The viking sighs and unclasps his fur, his cloak, lets you pull his loose shirt to the side to check his shoulder. You palpate the area with your fingers, checking for breaks and dislocations. It’s sort of… squishy? Moveable but in a way that makes the viking hiss. There’s a fresh scar running along the length of the bump you’re pressing. You think you remember this happening to one of the men in your village, an excess of blood and phlegm built up under the skin. The elders had brought you and a few other apprentices to watch the extraction of it.

You turn to rummage through your bag to try to find your notes. There are few things more precious to you in this world than the bag you carry at your side, the last remaining vestiges of home and a firm reminder of what you are. You pull a book free from its pocket, and flip through the carefully penned pages. Your crude sketches and quick handwriting aren’t anything to boast about, but the knowledge contained within them is more than you’re sure vikings have.

“I need,” You fish for the correct word as you pull your knife free, the blade flashes wickedly, you look up at Gaz, “He needs to bite.” You make the motion with your teeth, clenching your jaw to be sure he’s got the point. He’s smart, you’ll give the viking that much, Gaz rummages through his own pockets and pulls a strip of thick leather free. You nod quickly and stand to hold your knife in the fire.

If you’re going to do this under scrutiny you may as well take every precaution. A hot knife stops bleeding before it starts, though the smell of it is… unpleasant. You can only thank the gods that you keep your tools sharp, staring at the blade as it darkens with heat. You know the metal is heated enough when it hurts your hand. The heat biting into your palm almost feels good. Penance for cooperating with the wolves.

When you turn back to your patient he’s got the leather strap between his teeth, and two more men holding him steady. You almost feel bad, but it isn’t your job to feel bad, it’s your job to fix. It’s your job to be quick enough that your patients don’t suffer unnecessarily. You move close, side step around the vikings to push your fingers against your patient’s skin, feeling the squish that needs to be excised.

You press the blade of your knife to the viking’s shoulder, and he tenses with a low groan of pain. Less than you’d expected. You suppose these men are used to pain. Your cut is short, but deep enough you can feel where the skin breaks for puss. You can see it too, the viscous yellow that spills over the edges of the wound. You grimace when it flows, warm, over your fingertips and reposition your hand around the edges of the squishy pocket. Gaz hands you a cloth, exchanges it for your knife, and you hold it under the wound to catch the sickness that you carefully squeeze out.

You push against the viking’s skin until it’s just blood running from the wound. When you’re satisfied you’ve gotten all the sick out, you hold the cloth out to Gaz. He grimaces, and jerks his head towards the fire. Ah. You chuck the soiled linen into the blaze and ignore the crackle of fluid heating. You dig through your bag again, pulling needle and thread free of their places, and carefully knot a few stitches in the fresh wound. It’s ugly, but it does the job keeping the skin together. You’ll have to check the wound again in a few days to be sure the puss hasn’t come back, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll be going anywhere.

You shake the blood off your fingers, letting the red splatter on the grey rocks of the beach. It’s sort of satisfying doing your job, you’ve been training in it long enough. Turning your attention back to the viking he’s attempting to pull his shirt back into place. You’re quick to try and stop him, fussing with your bag and tugging a jar free. You open the seal and dip your fingers into the golden honey within, smearing it over the fresh wound.

Gaz hands you another length of cloth and you tie it tight around the viking’s shoulder. It’s dirty work, but between the two of you it’s been quick. That’s good, less risk if medicine is quick.

You cap the honey, wiping your fingers on your skirt. More stains for the unassuming fabric, but better this than dirtying your earasaid. You look away from your patient as he pulls his shirt back into place, refastens his cloak, and make eye contact with the captain. His gaze is just as flinty as it was yesterday, hard as stone and just as unyielding. Mactavish is next to him, and smiles when your eyes dart to him. The captain turns and shifts his attention back to his crew. You turn your attention to reorganizing your bag as Mactavish makes his way towards you.

“You keep honey on you?” He asks, snatching the jar from where you’d set it. You’re just as quick to snatch it back. Your annoyance flares.

“I found a hive while I was in the forest,” You tell him, keeping your eyes focused on your work as you settle your book and the jar reverently into their places, “wasted too much time collecting it, you wouldn’t have-”

You bite your tongue, cut yourself off. If you hadn’t wasted so much time on the honey you might have finished gathering herbs in time to avoid Mactavish. Maybe then you could have done something to help your family. Or perished with them, a quiet voice whispers to you. It would have been better than this, you tell the voice.

You look at Mactavish when he’s been quiet too long. His face is unreadable, but his posture is rigid. He isn’t here just to bother you. You straighten from your rummaging, afford yourself all the height you can steal to meet his eye.

“What?” You ask.

“You’re hired,” He tells you, though it does nothing to ease his posture; you blink at him and go back to your bag, untwisting the strap to pull it over your shoulder, “and-”

“And I don’t have a choice in the matter” You grumble. Mactavish grips your chin with firm fingers, turns you to look him in the eye again. His eyes are stormy, the brilliant blue yielding to clouds the same way the sky does. It startles you enough to keep you still.

“And we’re going home.” He says home like a finality, like the last wheezing breath before death. He says it like he means you to know his meaning without his saying it.

“Home.” You swallow and he nods.

“Aye, home.”

Not your home, you think, theirs.

[spectres-n-soap]

Soap x Reader x Ghost - The Highlands of Your Heart Masterlist

The Highlands of Your Heart

Let's Walk in The Grass

Let's Sit and Watch The Clouds

The Clouds remind Me of You

You keep The Rain at Bay

Yet the Rain Comes Anyway

In The Rain I Cannot Find You

Your Warmth is Fading

The Rain Is Cold and You Are Gone

I Scream and Scream, Can You Hear Me?

A Spectre Remembers

To Live is to Love. To Grieve is to Love

Hand in Hand

Times Long Since Past

All The Things I've Said

All The Things I've Said Pt2

All The Things I've Said Pt3

A Soft Breeze

The Past

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

More to Come...

Storm Clouds

Thunderstorms Are Here

The Olive Branch

Into The Wind

Thunder and Lightning

Clear Days

[konigsblog]

Imagine farmer soap finding his little Highland cow all horny in the farm house (absolutely nothing to do with the aphrodisiac he gave her with her breakfast!)

HYBRID

white panties almost transparent due to the wetness forming from your drooling cunt. your pussy becomes sloppy, your slit glistening and your nipples hardened due to the scottish highlands harsh and cold wind. johnny can only chuckle – laughing at the state you're in; bent over laying in a stack of hay, some in your mouth, your back arched and your ass in the air to present yourself to your farmer.

his bulge only grows harder and thicker as he gazes down at the mess of a highland cow; bent over, desperate – under stimulated and in dire need of friction and affection from johnny himself. he can tell you're cold, yet all flushed and hot at once. with your nipples hard and goosebumps spreading across your soft skin, sweating caused by the wet heat in your panties. only growing as he teases you.

perhaps he'll be sweet. gripping your hips tightly, before moving them upward towards your bare breasts. warm tits with hard nipples and goosebumps along your body as he grinds his clothed cock against your covered pussy, making an even bigger mess in your pretty, white panties. farmer!johnny always has his hands on your stomach as he fucks you, gripping into the flesh on your body as he fucks and pounds into you.

holding your face against the green grass, ploughing and forcing his thick, girthy shaft deep inside your wet arousal. the other bull hybrids huff and sniff at the scent of your slick. the sweet, nectar aroma driving them before they're waved away and cursed at for being a distraction. gripping your waist, his other hand pushing your face down against the grass as he bullies his veiny dick further inside.

the growing desire and need to get his pretty little cow all swollen. the need to spurt a load of potent cum into your womb, to see you with glistening and swollen folds and his hot semen oozing down your thighs.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

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[peachesofteal]

okayyyy so now i need an entire DD fantasy au…

peach, every piece of your writing is like freshly baked bread, and i am a starving peasant. you are my god.

dead disco is eating my brain.

- 🧟‍♀️

🧟‍♀️ Anon is referencing this. Same. I wish I had more time to write, I could totally take this and run with it. 🖤 🖤 I will feed you as much bread as I can.

“What- what’re you going to do with me?” You try to brace your voice with strength, bravery, anything to try to hide the truth, disguise the fear that has your hands shaking in your dress.

“We’re takin ye home, Princess.” You gape at the Highlander, the one who Introduced himself as Johnny. He tightens the girth on a sweet, sorrel pony, who nickers at you softly.

“But I am home.” You gesture to the castle that lurks behind you, and Ghost scoffs.

“You belong to us, darling. And that-“ he points at the gate. “Wasn’t much a home for you, now was it?” The image of your father being hacked to pieces by the violent stroke of his sword rips across your mind, and you shudder.

“Alright. Shall we?” Johnny motions to the pony, and you blanch.

“I don’t ride.” Your stomach knots, twisting up more than you thought possible, after everything. “I don’t- I’ve always taken a carriage.” They exchange a look, some sort of silent communication passing between the two, a deep connection that somehow manages to make you feel like an intruder, even those these are the two who ransacked your land and killed your father.

“Ye’ll ride with me then.” Johnny tells you gently, bending with a palm forward.

“I-“ The protest is in vain, and you know it. There’s no one here, to come to your rescue, no one to save you. Your own home is drenched in blood.

“Up ye get.” His hand hovers in the air by your knee, encouraging you to use it as a step, you think. But no, surely not? He couldn’t… support you. With one hand. You stand on indecision, looking from him, to the horse, to the ground. “Darling.” He murmurs softly, gentle under his breath.

It’s time.” Ghost calls, hoisting himself up onto a massive, shiny black horse that stands double your height, if not more.

“Princess.” Johnny urges. “Dinnae make me force ye onto the horse.” He’s serious, and you gulp against the cold wind that whips through your bones.

Only a few hours in, and you’re in agony. Your body is soft, not conditioned for long rides or hunts, muscles soft and skin nearly silk. Every step the horse makes feels like it may knock you off balance, bones in your back screaming at you with each jostle. Johnny tries to hold you steady, keeping you close to him, pressed to his chest, but it does little to help your discomfort. He steadies you with a hand on your hip, slowly sliding around to press against your lower belly, shifting you back into the shelter of his body, his warmth.

“Ye alright?” He murmurs into your ear, tucking your cloak tighter around your shoulders. “Ye’re shivering.”

“It’s cold.” You whisper, not even sure if he can hear you. He rubs your upper arm, squeezing it to try to work blood flow back into your skin.

“Ay.” He yells to Ghost, who’s in front, and they both pull up short. The black horse moves frighteningly quick alongside you, and Ghost studies your stricken expression intently behind the mask.

“Let’s get her into town. We can stop at the Inn for the night.” He tells Johnny, who pulls you tighter into his body.

“It’s about another hour, Darling. Think ye can make it?”

“It’s not safe, camping in these woods.” Ghost supplies as an explanation gently, and you nod.

“O-okay.”

“Good girl.”

At the end of the hour, you’re on the verge of tears. It’s frigid, you’re stiff in the saddle, legs and back and everything uncooperative, thigh muscles completely raw from trying to hold your seat.

“Easy now.” Johnny coos when he slips down, trying to encourage you to swing your leg over and follow his lead. When you try, a whimper slips free between your lips, and his brows crease in concern.

“I can’t.”

“Oh, darling.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you down into his chest, and you stifle a pained moan, face pressing into the warmth of his cloak. “Let’s get ye inside, out of the cold.” He holds you with ease, tucking you tighter amidst the little whimpers that are still slipping from your chattering teeth.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Dry Beast Monday: chinchillas

For over a year now I've been doing weekly Wet Beast Wednesday posts where I do a deep dive on some aquatic animal, and you know what? I'm tired of it! This is now a dry beast blog!* And where better to start than an animal that can literally die if it gets wet? Beasts can't get much dryer than that. So strap in for the first Dry Beast Monday... Dmonday?... Drunday? Whatever, it's the chinchilla.

(Image: a pet chinchilla in a cage, standing upright on a wood platform that has been heavily chewed. It is a rotund mammal with a similar body plan to rabbits, featuring a large head distinct from a round body. Its hind paws are larger than the forepaws and have more distinct toes. Its eyes are almost completely black and it has a flat nose with very long whiskers. The ears are large, rounded, and mostly furless. The tail is bristly hair like a squirrel's and is curled up. Most of its fur is a dark grey but the fur on its underside is white. End ID)

Chinchillas are rodents (the best mammals, fight me) that are members of the family Chinchilladae along with the viscachas. There are two living species of chinchilla: the long-tailed chinchilla (Chinchilla lanigera) and the short-tailed chinchilla (Chinchilla chinchilla, formerly Chinchilla brevicaudata). The two species can produce sterile hybrid offspring. Domesticated chinchillas are descended from the long-tailed chinchilla. All chinchillas are medium-sized rodents with powerful back legs, long whiskers, large ears, and extremely dense fur. In comparison, the short-tailed chinchilla is larger and has a shorter tail, thicker and less distinct neck and shoulders, and smaller ears. The most famous feature of chinchillas is their fur. At about 20,000 hairs per square centimeter, chinchillas have the second densest fur of any mammal, second only to sea otters. Each hair follicle grows up to 50 hairs, compared to human follicles, which only grow 1. The fur is famous for being incredibly soft, often described as velvety. If you've never felt a chinchilla its really hard to describe just how soft they are. The fur is so dense because Chinchillas live in the highlands of the Andes mountains where it gets very cold. The fur is used for insulation and even with it being so thick, chinchillas still need to bask in the sun to warm themselves up. The fur is actually the reason why chinchillas can't get wet. Their fur is so dense that wanter can't evaporate easily, instead remaining around long enough for fungus to start growing in the fur. This can lead to a lot of different skin conditions and infections that can be lethal. When chinchillas bathe, they take dust baths. By rolling around in volcanic ash, the can work the ash into their fur, where it absorbs oils, moisture, and other contaminants. This keeps the fur clean and healthy. Domestic chinchillas need specially made dust for their baths. It cannot be substituted with sand or other materials. Chinchillas can release chunks of their fur in order to escape from predators, leaving the predator holding nothing but a tuft of hair while the chinchilla runs away. This is called fur drop and in domestic chinchillas it can be a sign of mishandling or stress. Wild chinchillas have grey fur, but domestic breeds have been bread to have other colors of fur, including white and black. Chinchillas can't sweat, which isn't a problem in their natural habitat, but is for domestic chinchillas. The only way for them to cool down is to expose their ears (which are hairless and heavily vascularized) to wind. Chinchillas in temperatures at or above 26 degrees C (80 F) are at risk of having heat strokes. Daytime in the Andes can exceed those temperatures, so chinchillas hide in burrows during the day. Chinchillas are very skilled at jumping, able to leap up to 1.8 meters (6 ft). Their hind legs are longer than the forelegs and provide propulsion when walking or jumping. The toes has fleshy pads called papillae that help them grip onto surfaces. Chinchillas live in arid, rocky conditions and are skilled at leaping between rocks. The tails act like rudders, providing stability and direction when leaping. The front feet are capable of gripping and picking up objects. Females tend to be larger than the males, but there is otherwise little visual difference between the sexes. Wild short-tailed chinchillas can reach 38 cm (including tail) and 800 grams while wild long-tailed chinchillas can reach 26 cm (including tail) and 450 grams. Domestic chinchillas can get up to twice the size of their wild relatives.

(Image: a wild long-tailed chinchilla sitting under a rock. Its body plan is the same as the pet chinchilla above, but its fur is a lighter grey End ID)

(Image: a short-tailed chinchilla in captivity. It has a less distinct neck than the long-tailed chinchilla, making it look like its head merges with the body. Its tail is shorter than that of the long-tailed chinchilla, making up about 1/5th of its length as compared to the long-tailed chinchilla's 1/3rd. End ID)

Chinchillas are social animals that live in colonies called herds that can reach up to 100 members. Females dominate the herds and can be aggressive toward each other, though physical fights are rare. The herd cooperates when finding food, always having at least one member acting as a lookout to spot predators while the rest feed. They communicate vocally, with 10 types of vocalizations on record for. Social behaviors include grooming, playing, and friendly nibbling of each other's ears. Pet chinchillas should never be kept alone. They should be in same-sex groups of at least 2. Chinchillas are crepuscular, active mostly at dawn and dusk. During the day and night, they are usually found hiding in burrows or crevices between rocks, where they can avoid predators and high or low temperatures. They are primarily herbivores, but will supplement their diets with insects and other bugs. Most of their diet consists of grasses, seeds, and succulents and cacti. Wild ones almost never drink water, instead getting all of their hydration from their food. Chinchilla digestive systems are fairly specialized to their food. Domestic chinchillas need special-formulated food and can only have wooden chew toys form certain species of wood. Fresh or dried fruit is good for a treat, but should not be a regular part of their diet as they have a lot of sugar. As with all rodents, the incisors grow continuously through the animal's entire life and need to be worn down by chewing on things.

It is surprisingly hard to find good-quality images of wild chinchillas. Most of the time when you search for wild chinchilla pictures what you get are either domestic chinchillas or viscachas.

(Image: a trail-cam shot of two wild long-tailed chinchillas. The photo is i black-and-white. One is in the foreground on all fours while another is on its hind feet in the background, standing on a rock. The terrain is rocky and the chinchillas are next to a shrub. The camera's light makes their eyes appear to glow white. End ID)

(Image: a wild short-tailed chinchilla that is part of a relocation effort. Its fur is light grey with darker patches. A gloved human hand is reaching in from the right side of the image. End ID)

Male chinchillas appear to be fertile year-round, but females only enter estrus during the winter, from May to November in their natural habitat. Gestation takes around 120 days in both species and both species typically have two litters a year (a low rate for a small mammal). Offspring (called kits) are born well-developed, with fur and open eyes, and can run as soon as they are born. They nurse for 6-8 weeks before being weaned. 1-6 kits are born at a time, with 2 being the usual number. Chinchillas are monogamous, mating for life. Either partner can initiate mating, which they do so with hair-pulling. Unusually for rodents, male chinchillas do provide care for their offspring. Members of the same herd will help each other with parenting. Female chinchillas have been known to adopt the kits of other females who can't nurse due to health issues. Females are usually dominant due to their size. Chinchillas become sexually mature at around 8 months. In the wild they can live for 10 years, which is doubled in captivity.

(Image: an adult domestic chinchilla with a juvenile. The juvenile is smaller than the adult, with proportionally larger head and limbs and proportionally smaller tail. The two of them are nuzzling their snouts together. End ID)

The name chinchilla comes from the Chincha people of the Andes, who hunted chinchillas for their fur and meat. This hunting increased vastly after European colonization of South America. Between hunting and trapping, both species of chinchilla were brought to near extinction and vastly reduced their native range. Both species are now only found in Chile and have been granted legal protection. The IUCN switched their classifications between Vulnerable, Endangered, and Critically Endangered for a while. As of 2016, both species are classified as Endangered, upgraded from Critically Endangered as their populations have seen some improvement. Poaching, both for fur and capture for sale as pets, is still a large threat to wild chinchillas. Their close cousins, the viscachas, are doing much better as they were not hit as hard by the fur trade. The domestication of the long-tailed chinchilla is thanks to Mathias F. Chapman, an engineer who became fascinated with the animals after meeting a native person who was trying to sell one. He ended up getting permission from the government of Chile to capture several and import them to the USA. It took him 3 years to catch enough that he considered suitable for breeding, 11 in total. He then spend over a year gradually bringing them down from the highlands to sea level, giving them plenty of time to acclimate to the lower altitude. Once in the USA, Chapman started breeding his chinchillas in a farm in California, though he had to deal with medical problems and a thief stealing half of his stock. Eventually, though, his experiment paid off. The vast majority of all domesticated chinchillas today are descended from those original 11, brought to the states in 1923. Chinchillas today are raised in captivity for their fur, for use as laboratory animals, and as pets. While both species are raised in captivity for fur, the domesticated chinchilla is descended from the long-tailed chinchilla and short-tailed chinchillas apparently do not make as good pets.

(Image: a black-and-white photo of Mathias F. Chapman, a white man with a large nose wearing a shirt and tie. A chinchilla is standing on his leg and looking at the camera while he looks at the chinchilla. End ID)

* April Fools

[ubejamjar]

FFXIV Vanilla Gpose | Five | Vacation

I'll admit it-- the Coerthas Western Highlands is hardly paradise. It's too cold to stray from the campfire long and the snow never seems to stop. The wind is howling. I can hear Sleet Traps shuffling in the snow, the bright crackling of Ice Sprites as they float past, glowing white-blue. But it's peaceful. There's no one here but me and my books. I'm free to sit by the fire, sip my tea, and simply while away the hours. There's nothing more I could want.

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Introduction

Reader insert ACOTAR fanfic, pairing tbd

Premise: 21st century fem!reader gets transported to the world of ACOTAR after a freak incident.

warnings: none, maybe a lil angsty

A/n: Hello! This is my first fic and an idea I have been wanting to see portrayed for a while. As of now the pairing could literally be anyone but personally I am partial to Eris or Cassian. Let me know if there are any tropes you'd like to see. I wanna make this a fun space so enjoy!!

Other chapters

It was colder than you had expected it to be. The Highlands were known for being cold and rainy but since summer began you had half hoped half prayed for a warm sunny day. The skies were obstructed by heavy looking clouds. It would rain soon and the end of the hike was nowhere in sight. Maybe this is why people shouldn't travel alone, you thought as thunder roared from above. If I was with someone I'm sure they would have checked the weather. But this was why you'd flown half way across the world by yourself. "I want to get lost in new cities" you had said to your parents who never thought this was a good idea to begin with. "I want to explore the world" how hopeful you were when it was just an idea. Now though, now you had to find shelter unless you wanted to get soaked. "This is so not worth it" you grumbled to yourself while looking around for some type of cover. There hadn't been a trace of civilization for a few hours now and according to the map the lodge was still a few miles away. Groaning, you go off the path and into the thick forest hoping to find a tree, a cave, a cabin, anything that could protect you from the weather. You walk in a straight line, careful not to get lost. Lightning strikes and thunder rattles you as you start to increase your pace a bit. The forest is dark and the wind sounds like a voice telling you to run. Run. Run. You start to jog a little, constantly looking back to make sure the path is still visible. To your horror, thick fog has rolled in from the mountains making it impossible to see more that twenty feet in front of you. Shit. Shit. Shit. You hadn't prepared for this. Hiking was always something you enjoyed, but you had no real survival skills. Other than a bit of information gleaned from your grandparents' stories or survival reality shows. I should stay here. That was the logical thing to do, avoid getting even more lost, once the fog clears make your way back. But another gust of wind urged you. Run. Run. Run. You looked around but there was nothing, absolutely nothing there except the trees, the wind and the ever encroaching rain. Nothing, not even an animal, not even an insect. Fuck. With a jump you start running in the opposite direction of the path. Something is wrong. Something feels off and wrong and you need to get away. There's a clearing coming up and a bit of sun is slipping through the break in the forest canopy. You stop dead in your tracks as you take in what's in front of you. Boulders the size of refrigerators are lined up in what seemed to be a perfectly symmetrical circle. Chills climb up your back. You walk slowly towards it, careful not to touch anything. The space feels sacred here. As you get closer you see that there are smaller and smaller boulders until they become tiny little rocks lined up exactly the same. Sweat runs cold. They seem to circle around nothing. In the center is a small round patch of grass lined with small mushrooms. Run. Run. Run. You don't know where to go, being here feels wrong but there seems to be an invisible wall that won't let you run back to the forest. The only way out was through. You walked slowly, as if someone was surveilling you, waiting, hoping for you to mess up. Avoiding any branches or roots that might make you trip, you get to the patch of grass. Thunder roared all around you. It shook the whole forest and left a ringing in your ears. Stepping over the mushrooms you place you right foot first and then the left. Only the floor is gone and you're falling. Falling. Falling. There's an immense pressure all around you, it feels like you're being pushed by the darkness itself and you're falling.

Just as it started it's over.

Shaking, you try to take a breath. What the fuck just happened? It's the only thing you can think. You take another breath and look up from the ground you just fell on. It's the forest. You realize you are lying in the middle of the same clearing. Well, it looks like the forest except the boulders and rocks are gone, the space barren. I'm gonna throw up. Run. Run. Run. You try to get up and manage to stand on wobbly legs as you feel for any injuries from the fall. There's no blood anywhere and the only pain seems to be the growing headache from trying to grasp what's happening. Then you hear them. Steps. Someone or something is close. You take off running back to where the path should be not willing to risk getting attacked by an animal. You're panting as you run and you look back for a second to make sure no one is chasing you when you run straight into a tree and blackness takes over.

You wince as you open your eyes and feel the thumping pain coming from your forehead, you touch it and feel a lump forming. Great. The fire crackles beside you and you freeze. Looking to the side you are terrified in place as you see an ethereal looking man with long red hair and a scar down his face looking back at you. "Hello", his tone is bored. "Who are you and what are you doing in this court?" You open your mouth to answer but close it again as you look closer. His ears are pointed and his eye seems to be mechanical. I've got to be hallucinating. Uncertain, you answer "I'm y/n and I have no idea where I am or how I got here." Did I eat one of those mushrooms? This has to be the worst trip ever. You swallow and more quietly say "Am I in danger?" He pokes at the fire and says "I'm not going to hurt you, but this isn't a safe place for a human". "What's your name?" he sighs, like he's tired of answering that question.

"Lucien".

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 9

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: a LOT of angst and negative mental health, little fluff, Legend being Legend, some hints at spice

₊˚✩⊹

“Where the hell are we, Champ?” Legend groans, shaking his head.

Wild pulls out his slate, “We’re home! My hom- Hyrule, at least. We’re just past the Great Plateau, Southwest.”

He looks at the map a bit closer, “Close to Gerudo Highlands, actually.”

Your ears pick up at that. You were back on course, in a way.

“How far till the last stable before the desert, Wild?” you ask. He taps his chin in thought.

“Well if we start moving now, we could reach it by nightfall probably.”

And with that, you and the group started walking. You didn’t have Epona with you, so everyone was on foot. You walked with Twilight and Hyrule, talking about anything, you weren’t actively listening. You were too busy staring at Legend’s backside, as if you were trying to make him look at you.

“You good, Sugarplum? You’ve been zoned out for the past 20 minutes or so.” Hyrule whispers to you. Curse everyone for being so damn observant.

You nodded, “Yeah, just uh. I don’t know, a lot’s on my mind.” you mumble, finally pulling your eyes away from the Vet. Your staring wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you and Vet ok? It seems like something’s going on between you two, but I don’t wanna assume.” 

“We’re just stressed about our own situations. Nothing to worry about.”

“You should talk to him, y’know. That usually helps.”

“I trie- I will. I’m just a bit mentally preoccupied at the moment.” you said with a sad smile, Hyrule nods at you in understanding. 

“I’m here for you, if needed.”

You keep walking, eyes focused on the terrain ahead of you. The red rock of the Gerudo Highlands were always quite a sight, even in game, but seeing them for yourself for the first time in ages was incredible.

The day passed relatively quickly, the only sounds being that of the wind and the occasional chatting between the boys. You didn’t talk much, not exactly having the social battery to converse. 

You walked up to Time, as you always fell into comfortable silence with him and you felt like you haven’t spent much time with him since your incident. He gives you a quick glance, looking back at the path ahead.

“I can hear you thinking, Y/n. What is it?” he asked, still not looking at you.

You fumble with the straps on your harness, a nervous habit. 

“I, just, uh feel like we haven’t had much time together lately.”

You think for a second. Wait.

“That wasn’t supposed to be a pun. Sorry.”

“I know what you meant, its alright. No need to apologize.”

“I feel like something else is on your mind though, Y/n. I think I may know what, but… I don’t know if now is the best time or place to talk about it. I don’t want the younger ones snooping in things they shouldn’t be.”

You laugh, “Time, we’re with grown men and one pre-teen.”

He scoffs, “They act like children.”

“You’re not wrong.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, taking in the serenity of the evening, the sun starting its descent into night. You can make out the faint plume of smoke in front of you, meaning that the last stable before Gerudo Desert was coming up. Looking up, you can see a few wolves on the snowy tops of the valley, looking down at you and your group. They howled for a bit, no doubt being curious and/or displeased with your presence in their territory.

You felt a shiver go up your spine, tickling the back of your neck.

“God, I forgot how cold the valley can get towards nighttime.” You pull out your only sweater, the famous Link hoodie that the group made fun of you for, but hey, at least you won’t freeze.

Pulling the hood up, you sighed in content. You sure will get some looks, but you were willing to sacrifice your dignity.

You all approached the stable, Wild jogging up to the innkeeper, checking you all in. Luckily, Wild had sold some precious stones earlier in the day with a merchant, so he had enough to pay for all of you.

“Inn’s kinda full, so we’re gonna have to share beds. I’ll share with whoever, don’t really have a preference.”

A few groans reverberate through the group, but there’s no conflict in pairing up.

Four walks up to you, hand on his knife holster, “Looks like it’s gonna be you and me, you ok with that?” You shrug, not like you had another option anyways.

You both walk to the vacant bed, which happens to be toward the very back of the inn, opposite of the main office. Wild’s inns were cozy, its just all the open space and vulnerability made you anxious.

“I’ll be right with you, don’t worry. I know how the lack of divided rooms affects you.” 

Ah, so he knew.

“Thank you, Four. I don’t know why I’m so squeamish around large, vast spaces and not with tight spaces. It’s usually the opposite for people.”

He nods. You both unpack your belongings, Four placing his and your packs under the bed, away from prying eyes. You fidgeted with the necklace he made you, feeling yourself zoning out.

“You two good? Dinner’s almost ready!” Wars yells out to you both from the entrance. Four smiles, and you two walk out the inn towards the small campfire Wild made.

“If you start kicking me at night, I’m kicking you off the bed.” Legend says to Wind. 

“I don’t kick!!” he exclaims, throwing his arms up.

“I’ve slept right next to you plenty of times to know you do fuckin’ combat in your dreams.” Vet mumbles, eyes briefly glancing at you.

You sit down on the ground, leaning against Sky. God, you were tired. Sky leaned over you, “How are you, Dove?”

You just groan, leaning against his leg. 

“Yeah, same.”

You shiver again. Sky looks at you, then reaches behind him, grabbing a blanket. Where did he get that?

Leaning over you, he drapes it over you, tucking you in. You beam at him, “You’re so sweet, thank you Sky.”

Leaning against his leg, he absentmindedly brushes through your locks while you look into the fire. Wild gives you a smile as he tosses a few mushrooms in and a few dashes of goron spice.

You look to your left, Legend’s eyes on yours. He looks exhausted. 

You glance back at the fire, feeling a blush creeping in at the attention from him. 

“You excited to head into Gerudo Town tomorrow?” Wild asks, still stirring the pot.

“Yeah! I haven’t had the chance to meet Riju yet. I also can’t wait to finally try the Hydromelons, you keep goin’ on and on about them.” you smile.

Wild chuckles, “They’re delicious and beneficial, especially for the heat during the day. I even have a spare Vai outfit for you, so you shouldn’t struggle as much. I’ll give it to you after supper if I remember to.”

You nod. You don’t really pay attention to the rest of the conversation, no one bothering to bring you out of your daze.

~

Considering how exhausted you felt just over an hour ago, you were awake as can be in bed. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, trying to find the right spot to doze off in. Four was out the second he hit the pillow.

Sighing heavily, you sit up and hop off the bed, walking towards the entrance of the inn. The lights were barely on at this point in the night, but you could make out the sleeping forms of the heroes as you passed by them. You grabbed a spare blanket from on top of one of the crates in the in and wore it like a cape, walking over to the small fire. You were surprised to find Legend sitting on a log, staring into the fire. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, eyes widening the slightest bit at the recognition of your face.

“Couldn’t sleep.” you mumbled, sitting a few feet away from him. He doesn’t respond, continuing to stare at the fire.

The silence is awkward. 

“You look tired. You should sleep.” you say cautiously, not wanting to start conflict.

“‘m not. Can’t sleep anyways.” he mumbles.

Another moment of silence passes.

“Did I do something?” you ask, voice small.

He still doesn’t say anything. You were getting on edge, this wasn’t like him. He’s snarky, quick to talk back.

“What’s going on with you? A few days ago you were teasing me and goofing off with Wind and now you barely say a word, if that. If it’s something I said or did-”

“You didn’t do anything, Y/n.”

“You say that but you still won’t even look at me or talk to me. What are you so afraid of-”

“For the love of- Stop. Fucking stop. You don’t know me, stop trying to act like you care.”

“Excuse me?”

He finally looks at you, eyebrows furrowed and knuckles white on his knees, weeping to be relaxed and unclenched. He looked angry, scared, betrayed, horrified. 

“I see how you look at me, full of pity and sadness, like I’m some fucking charity case to you. You think you may know all about my past, just because you’re our-my guide, but you don’t. You can’t even begin to imagine what I feel. What I have to be reminded of every time I close my eyes.”

“Link I don’t pity you and I have never pretended to know exactly what you went through. I know I was there, but I also know I don’t know what it was like for you and how it affected you.”

“I see how you are with the others. Time? Twilight? They look at you in ways I’ve never seen them look at someone. Hell, everyone looks at you like you’re some goddess descended upon Hyrule. I fucking- I can’t stand it.”

“I-”

“I don’t even know why you’re with us, Y/n. Why the fuck are you here, dealing with this prophecy cult bullshit? You could’ve avoided this if you weren’t stupid-”

“I NEVER FUCKING ASKED TO BE HERE.”

He seemed to shut up at your exclamation.

You took a shaky breath, already feeling the tears spilling from your eyes.

“You think I asked to be dragged through a portal, possibly never being able to come home? You think I fucking wanted this? I never wanted to become some ‘guide’ or ‘goddess’ as you put it. I’m just a nobody, a fucking girl that’s depressed and found comfort in characters that she could relate to, but I guess I was wrong. I can’t relate at all. To you, to Time, to any of you. I’m just some sorry excuse of a guide that’s scared of being alone and left behind.”

You were sobbing at this point, snot running down your chin, the tears clouding up your vision in front of you.

“I’m sorry I’ll leav-” 

“Please don’t go. I need you, Link.”

Legend paused at that, processing your words.

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

You cautiously cuddled into his side, panting for air from your panic attack. 

You needed him.

“I need you too, Mouse.”

You looked up at him at the mention of your nickname. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he had been crying for days on end. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, eyes not leaving your face.

“Kiss me, Link.”

And he did. 

Legend groaned slightly into your mouth, causing you to gasp. He took it as an invitation to run his tongue along yours, your tears still running into your mouth, making your lips taste salty. He ran his callosed hands down your back and pulled you in closer, as if he was afraid this was a dream and you’ll leave him.

Just when you thought he was done, he pulled you onto his lap, blanket falling off your shoulders onto a heap on the ground. He moaned into your lips, making you press yourself against him, chest to chest. You wanted, needed more.

“More, Link-ah.” you whined.

He seemed to slow at your whining, coming back to reality. He sighed, placing his forehead against yours.

“I want to, Mousey. Trust me, I do, I just… someone might walk out here.”

You groan into his shoulder, but he was right. It was too risky.

He lifts your face off of his shoulder, tilting your chin up “But once we have some privacy I’ll give you more, ok? I promise.”

You flush at his words, knowing what he was insinuating.

“We should go in, before someone starts panicking. Would you… want to sleep next to me?” he asks, the tips of his ears bright pink. You nod, picking up the blanket from the ground. You suddenly felt very sleepy.

Following Legend back into the inn, you noticed Wind had fallen off the bed and made his way into Four’s bed, which seemed all a little too convinient for your current situation, but you were too tired to care. 

You flopped into bed, and Legend followed suit, stripping his sheath and outer tunic before cuddling up to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “Goodnight, my little mouse.”

~

“Rise and shine fuckers!!” 

You groan into your… pillow? That’s weird, when did it become so firm-oh. Oh.

The “pillow” groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. His pink hair was all over the place, under eyes still as droopy as ever. Yawning, he looked down at you with a sleepy smile.

“Guessin’ you slept well?”

“Huh?”

“You drooled all over me.”

“Oh, grossss. I’m so sorry Leg-”

“Don’t worry about it, I got another tunic in my pack.”

You stop to look at him. Really look at him. You haven’t had a moment like this with him… ever. He looked so happy, eyes crinkling in the corners, half unbuttoned tunic, hair messy from sleep. You wanted to see him happy. All of them, happy.

“Alright, love birds! Breakfast and out let’s go, let’s go!” Wind yelled again, clapping his hands.

You both rolled your eyes, begrudgingly getting out of bed. You pulled your tunic on, lacing it up in the back. You looked up while lacing to see him staring at you. He gave you a wink and went back to getting dressed as if it was another day on the job.

How the hell is he so casual about this?

You didn’t have time to dwell as Wild’s cooking snapped you out of your daze, bringing you outside to the same pot you and Legend were sitting at just a few hours ago. Legend was alreadyeating, looking up at you mid-bite for a moment before continuing to eat.

You sit in between Four and Warriors, Wild handing you a plate before you sat down. 

Before you had a chance to take a bite, Wars asked “Where’d you and the Vet go last night?”

Shit, was he awake that entire time?

“We both couldn’t sleep, just sat by the fire for a bit.”

“Chat about anything?”

You narrowed your eyes.

What the hell was he getting at?

“Just… stuff. What are-” “Jeez Cap, leave her alone, would ya?” Vet snaps, already back to his typical snarky self. You mouth a ‘thanks’ to him, finally able to dig into your food. A few of the others exchange looks, curious about the sudden defensiveness Vet had over you.

You’d have to clear things up with Wars later, as Wild was ushring you back into the inn the second you finished chewing your last bite of food, needing to get you changed into more appropriate clothing.

“I managed to buy another vai outfit a few months back, I hope you like red.”

Wild hands you a bundle of soft red fabric, embroidered with silky golden thread and lace trim. Jesus, this looked expensive.

“Wild, you sure? This looks really expensive.”

“It really wasn’t, trust me. Now come on, we gotta get dressed and head out, Riju is expecting us.”

You nodded, already starting to strip your outer layers while Wild went outside to change. Thankfully, nobody was inside the inn so you could change quickly and quietly without any prying eyes. You catch a mirror in the far corner of the inn, deciding to take a quick once-over before you go out, and check on your healing back.

You turn around and your breath hitches.

Your wounds are completely gone.

₊˚✩⊹

[jolieeason]

A Cold Highland Wind (Lady Emily Ashton Mysteries: Book 17) by Tasha Alexander

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press, Minotaur Books Date of publication: October 3rd, 2023 Genre: Mystery, Historical Fiction, Fiction, Scotland, Mystery Thriller, Historical Mystery, Historical Series: Lady Emily Ashton Mysteries And Only to Deceive—Book 1 A Poisoned Season—Book 2 A Fatal Waltz—Book 3 The Bridal Strain: Emily and Colin’s Wedding—Book 3.5 Tears of Pearl—Book 4 Dangerous to…

[theanimekid]

Betrayal/ The Veil of Shadow found the new ruler

Synopsis: Love is not eternal, betrayal; cuts deeper than a scar. Now you'll be harmed no longer. You'll be loved once more. Embrace destiny, walk the veil, and rule as a Dark Queen.

Warnings: Monster, angst, sci-fi, blood, betrayal, heartbreak, death,

Shadow owes its birth to light- John Gay

“Love isn’t soft like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.” ― Stephen King, The Body

A/n: This will be about two or three chapters long, so grab some coffee, a blanket, and a couple of tissues, make that a couple boxes of tissue

Chapter 1: The Beginning and End

You will never feel pain again. You'll never feel hurt or suffering. You… will never experience betrayal… for now it was the last time… the last straw.

The Strom fumed in spikes of crimson and light-blue lighting. The chaos of thunderstorms rumbled the sky, buildings of merged flesh and bone carved into each like a deathly art, screams were heard for miles, screeching of the bats not living nor dead. As their dark sparks waved into the night. You stood, outside of your castle, watching the depths below, your body shrouded in mystery and despair. Your veil flew with the wind, eyes cold-hearted, broken no more, vengeance craving for suffering. Skin darker than a shade of navy blue. The might of the doors opened slowly, and a black substance moved within. It was quick and swift. Faster than the human eyes can catch.

It soon emerged with its fingertips skimming fingertips. Its purple hood covered its top face. He spoke in a canny yet diabolical fashion. "My Empress... the time has come," It said, As it played with its fingertips rhythmically. You turned to look at your advisor, your eyes sharpened, lowly. " Already?" You asked in a heartache and pitied tone. " I'm afraid yes, a newcomer has been seen in the human world, young and frail as he is, yet more fearful than the rest." The hand movement swayed and urged as his words, Walked away from the highland view. past your blackened throne so lonely and purposeless. Your advisor walked with you down the very, elongated hallway. Your soldiers lined up and bowed to you. "They're the same as always, Urmas."

"They live to benefit you, my beloved empress, as they will always be." He replied in assurance. The two walked for what seemed like a while and reached the end of the hallway. You stopped. Urmas stopped with you. His expression spread with little concern for his queen. " Is there something the matter, my sovereign?" You still stood there staring blankly at the door. " I-I- feel like I've been here before."

Urmas Cleared his throat. " Can you recall, my sovereign?" You shook your head, " I don't know, but yet at the same time, it feels as though." You turned to your advisor, offering your hand to him. Urmas instantly clutched it and held it to his hand. You beamed maliciously, teeth in all, "let's go raise bloodstained nightmare on humanity and make a world for my own." He smiled back." As you wish, my sovereign." The doors opened to a giant glass sphere, spiraling out of different stirs and harmonies. The two of you walked hand in hand. As you got closer to your glass sphere, lightly grazing the outer layer. Urmas walked on the other side of the figure.

The sphere's outer layer moved fluidly, liquifying. Your hand sunk into the glass sphere. Your eyes dilated, turning into a purplish pink. Your vision became severed as you gaze upon the human world into the brightness of the city. Your eyes searched and looked unnoticed. Til you found a little boy with glasses wandering down a dark alley. Frightened and alone, tight where you wanted him. 

You planted his fear into his mind, it took only mere moments before he was nothing more than paste. And a small portal of flesh emerged from the brick wall, pulsating quietly like a heartbeat for an ear to listen. His body remained dismembered and fractured. His eyes plucked out of their sockets. Your eyes blurred again, returning to normalcy. With a sigh of satisfaction, you removed your hand from the sphere. Urmas clapped his hands in applause. " Another astounding work my sovereign," He feted. You walked away from the sphere and headed towards the door. You tumbled to the floor, holding both sides of your head, Your head began to hurt. Screaming in pain as your advisor tried to assist you. Your vision contradicted with light, a picnic on the hill, a man standing next to you with a loving gaze, his hand reaching out to you, calling to you…

You gasped as you raised your head. Your body trembling, your advisor slowly got you back on your feet. "My empress, are you all right?" He questioned. You sighed, bobbing your head left and right. " I-I'm fine... I just, need to rest my eyes." 

*Back on Earth*

One of his shadow soldiers, sat on top of a nearby building, looking down upon its people and others. The shadow sighed in questionable purpose. It's been the fifth time this past year. The visions He saw, his queen in danger, screaming and sobbing for help, it's like an unending loop. Constantly, she was reaching out to him, calling to him...

His master emerged from the wall, Beru and Igris followed soon after, and his black coast got longer and ragged. He stopped at the edge. Sung turned his gaze toward his summon. " Is there a reason why you're not doing your patrol?" The soldier got up and kneeled before his master. " Forgive me, my king... but it feels like something has been bothering me." He didn't even bother looking upon his master. Thinking he will not believe him." And what has been bothering you?" Sung asked. He collected himself and explained clearly and carefully, not to anger him, " Lately, since the past year, I have been seeing visions... visions that I wish I could ignore, but it just couldn't." Sung knelt to his soldier's eyes. " Look at me, and tell me what you saw." The shadow soldier took a deep breath and looked dead into his king's eyes. " I saw... a woman in white, she was surrounded by black waters, she was slowly drowning, but no end. I was going to save her, but she started to cry, sobbing, calling out your name, and others. She turned to look at me, her face was recognizable... my king... I believe... that our queen is alive and needs your help."

Sung's eyes slowly widened, and he can feel his heart wailing out of his chest. She can't be... he watched her... if she is then why...

Beru and Igris can feel the energy around him growing. With his body trembling, he gripped his soldier's shoulders. " Are you... you 100 certain that's..." He nodded in response. Sung can feel his whole world collapse around him. You were alive, alive and alone, scared. " Did you anything else from your visions? Or where she could be? Did she tell you where to find her?" He started asking a million questions. But his soldier only gave him one and a solution. " She said to locate the portal where no man or light can find. The opposite of all worlds... Find the seer. And that's all I can remember." 

The search for the seer begins.

Part 2 in the making👍

[callofdudes]

Did they just post artwork? Yes. Am I in love with every viking/cod au that crosses my path? Yes. Do I like shifters? Fucking absolutely.

And @aidenlydia has fed me all of those at once. So obviously I'm writing something for it because it's beautiful! Here is their original post.

Winter fall.

09 SoapGhost

Snow in the Highlands was always to be expected. Even in the deep treks as the white specks of freezing cold weather clung to his beard. Icy blue eyes only added to the background, wind whipping around them up in the mountains.

John stopped in the slow, noticing part of the thick pine tree line had been caved in. Branches snapped and trees arching from a weight.

Deep foot prints quickly being filled by the pummelling snow leading into the dark abyss of the forest.

Along his collar, Ghost stirred. Fluffing his feathers along John's neck, making him shiver a little.

"You wanna go have a look?"

The rather large crow's wings puffed out from the fuzzy fur cloak John wore, making a rather disgruntled noise.

John chuckles. "Be quick then, we're both hungry."

His little feet bounced, pushing off of John's shoulder and flapping his large black wings against the harsh winds. Snow landing across his feathers and beak.

John watched as Ghost took the wind, soaring up over the tree line and dashing through the pine wood.

The trees bowed and swayed, bending as Ghost monitored the snowy forest floor. Seeing broken branches and trees bent all the way down the side of the embankment.

Sharp eyes surveying every inch until he spotted their goal. The large elk that had wandered it's way into their trap and woken their stomachs gnawing on some grass.

Ghost cawed, alerting John before diving toward the large beast.

Hearing his cry, John grabbed his axe, rushing through the flurry of snow. Past pine branches and into the thick darkness.

Following the deep trails of the elk until coming across the opening where Ghost was picking a fight with it.

Feet planted on the elks muzzle as it tried to shake him off and cant him away. Ghost squawked, flapping his wings into its face, disorienting it.

Before the elk could figure out what was happening, John slammed his axe in an upper cut, the blade lodging between the thick fur and skin, tearing at the ribs, making the animal cry.

Blood covered the pearl white snow, soaking into the flurry as it fought and then fell to its demise.

Ghost squawked, flapping his wings rapidly and landing on John's head and fluffing his feathers, stretching out one wing to finely clean the feathers.

John secured the elk to a rope and pulled it up over his shoulder. "You all good up there??" John reached up and Simon hopped along the top of his head, crooning his beak to peck at John's firm hand.

"Good lad. Let's get this back to a fire. I'm starving."

Simon flapped his wings, hopping down into the fur of John's cloak, snuggling up and puffing out his feathers a little.

They trekked back through the snow with their meal, heading back to the cave opening where they'd been set up to hunt game for the last week.

Their leather bed rolls laid across from each other, the rocks pulled up around thee scorched wood of last night's fire.

John set the elk onto a rock, grabbing out his dagger. "Get the fire going yeah?" Ghost nuzzled his beak against John's neck and flapped down into the snow.

Tight leather shoes crunching to the snow. Ghost wrapped his arms around his body, the cloth scarf that wrapped around his neck, one end falling to end at his breast, the other wrapped over his nose. Hiding his pale complexion amongst the flurry of snow.

His eyes still resembling the sharp, cunning gaze of the crow. Nimble hands wrapped in leather picking up wood from under their small camp out and replacing the old logs.

He looked up at John, his large muscles flexing as he split open the elk. Stripping the intestines and skinning the top from the meat of the animal.

He grabbed their chipped rocks from by John's bedside, striking them over the fresh wood and watching them catch light.

"How long will that last us?" He finally asks before blowing on the starting sparks of the fire.

"A week or two if we eat wisely." John replied, throwing the skin into a pile next to the rest of their leather, which they would use to package and conserve the meat in the cold climate.

"How long do you suspect we'll be out here?"

"Long enough. Why? Wanting a vacation already?" John chuckles softly.

Simon scoffs, folding one knee up to his chin, poking the fire with their stick. "No, just wondering."

A gentle silence followed. The howl of the wind passing by their small alcove but never entering. And the occasional noise of John chopping up the fat of the animal.

It wasn't a long process, they'd done it before.

When John was ready he pulled off part of the pure thigh meat. The slick slabs from each side laying in the snow.

For now he'd leave it. So he took the pieces up and sat near Ghost on the small rock carve out, his leather sleeping pad cushioning his arse barely.

He got the metal hook and slipped one of the slabs of meat onto it. The flames in the pit sparkling, popping and reaching up to the meat. Blood dripped into the fire, making it sizzle and crackle.

Ghost watched it. Still poking his stick around in the fire aimlessly. John noticed, even Simon's small amount of feather coverage around his forearms, shoulders and ears were barely enough against the wind that passed.

He unclipped his heavy cloak, pulling the emblem away from his neck, catching Ghost's attention.

It was a silent exchange when he laid the cloak over Ghost's shoulders. Watching him slightly slump as the fabric engulfed his body into the warmth that John's own body had.

Ghost pulled it close, sinking into it while he watched the fire.

John's large muscular shoulders bare to the cold weather turned slightly red around his neck muscle, dusted with barely noticable freckles.

Ghost looked over at him, shifting a little closer. John hummed softly, feeling Simon's smaller body closer to him, "We'll head back to the village soon for proper rest."

Simon hummed, staring into the fire. "We can get some alcohol too.."

John chuckles softly. "And alcohol, bloody yes we're getting alcohol."

Simon looks up at him, leaning slowly against his side. "You're a dumb drunk."

"Mm, well I can say the same about you."

John tucked the cloak in tighter, pulling Ghost right against him, surprising the smaller man.

He huffed softly, looking away at the ground, but it was warm. John's large hand wrapped around him, holding him protectively. There was always something so nice about it.

His eyelids fluttered slightly, drooping and allowing himself to lean in further to the side of the steady man.

A branch snapped, making him sit back up straight again.

John's attention also moved to the opening of the cave, placing a firm hand on Ghost's thigh. "Easy, just the wind." He assured.

Ghost slowly relaxed, looking back over at the snow covered land once more to double check.

John's arm remained protectively around him, holding his thigh, letting Simon curl up closely to him.

John poked the fire with the stick, splashing more embers up onto the meat. The time slowly ticked away as it cooked.

The small amount of feather coverage on Simon's forearms bristled. One arm poking out from the cloak, crooning his neck to nip at the mashed feathers and preen them back into place with his teeth.

John thought it was adorable. Sitting with him in that peaceful moment. Getting some time to just relax. Knowing they'd be out here for hunting season quite a while. But they made a good team, that's for sure.

I was gonna do more but got a road trip and I love these two. This was what I could splurge onto the page. I want more 😭😭

[hazyange1s]

1901 (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

so. I generated the middle photo with midjourney months ago and people on tiktok seemed to like it 😂 probably because we are desperately in need of some happy endings….

which brought my aching little heart to write a painfully self-indulgent one-shot based off of said picture (ft. my two brainchildren). this is from October and I’m cringing; I feel like I’ve improved a bit since but we’re here for vibes so who cares.

Synopsis: the year is 1901, and after a lifetime of dealing with the turmoil he became so accustomed to, Sebastian has finally gotten everything he could ever want. a night with his wife and best friends reminds him exactly how lucky he is.

Warnings: slightly suggestive reference (but still keepin it SFW), dad!Seb and Ominis, tooth-rotting fluff, aged up characters, alcohol use, pregnancy, not edited just raw word vomit

The stone and wood that made up Hogsmeade had hardly weathered since the first year Sebastian could remember coming, when he was a sprightly six year old boy with his parents. Back then, the buildings had looked larger than life. The people seemed wonderful and strange and extraordinary; their wands aloft to float signs or move merchandise. He had tugged on the folds of his mother's skirt upon staring with rapt attention, whining, "Mummy! When do *I* get to make things fly?"

"Soon, sweetling." His mother had smiled, the most beautiful sight he could comprehend at that tender age. "Soon, you yourself could be flying above the clouds."

Now, Sebastian found himself doing just that.

Cold wood bit into the callouses of his palms, which gripped the handle of his broom securely as the biting October wind tousled his dark hair into knots. He might have already frozen solid where he sat, had it not been the warming charm on his coat and the heat of his wife's smaller body pressed up against his back.

She shouted something just then amidst the roar of the wind in his ears. Sebastian turned for a split second to get a glimpse of the wide grin on her flushed, freckled cheeks.

The most beautiful sight in the world to him now.

"What?" He chuckled, turning back around as they neared the stone path leading into the quaint village.

"I said; they're going to have our heads for being late, so you better take full responsibility." Raegan repeated with her lips grazing Sebastian's ear.

Another laugh was dragged from his dry throat. Raegan had a special ability that when beyond just her fire-wielding, ancient magic, and skills on a broom. She was also one of the only people in the world who could make him laugh without really trying.

"I don't suppose you want me to tell them WHY?" Sebastian replied wryly as they landed and climbed stiffly off of the broom. The feeling of solid ground beneath their feet was a certainly a relief after miles of dark skies above the Highlands.

Raegan gave him a taunting little smirk that he'd come to understand was one she reserved especially for her husband. "Doubt you'll have to. It's hard to hide anything from those two. Ominis will probably sniff us out the moment we enter the pub."

She smoothed down the wild, russet tangle of waves Sebastian had run his hands through just an hour ago as they walked hand in hand over the bridge. He smiled at the memory as if he could still feel the softness of each lock between his fingers.

"I have considered the theory that he's part bloodhound."

The pair came to the familiar, flickering facade of the Three Broomsticks, pausing just outside when Sebastian tugged on Raegan’s hand to bring her to a stop beside him (a feat in itself, really).

“You know…” he mused, eyes crinkling at her questioning look. “Technically, we had our first date here.”

“If you call nearly getting…what were the words you used? Pulverized by a troll a romantic outing.” She laughed.

“Don’t forget the bar fight you nearly got me into. Honestly, it’s a wonder I managed to stick around for so long, with all the trouble you bring.”

The words were made in obvious jest and followed by an affectionate press of his winter-chapped lips to her temple. Because they both knew damn well that trouble was Sebastian’s middle name (it could replace Alexander for all he cared), and that chaotic whirlwind of a fifth year when they’d met was precisely what had him falling head over heels for her in record time.

“Well, as much as I love a good troll fight…the only thing you have to be scared of tonight is Ominis.”

A half-hearted scoff had Sebastian’s breath clouding in the air. “I wasn’t scared.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wet yourself.”

“I was not scared!”

Raegan grinned indulgently at her husband, who rolled his eyes at the all-too-familiar teasing. Still, Sebastian found himself imitating her expression as he pulled her flush against his side and leaned down to fit his mouth to hers.

How many times had he enjoyed the saccharine taste that clung to every bit of her skin? It was far, far too many to count, surely, and the proof was in the way their lips moulded together like two pieces of a well-loved puzzle.

A rush of warmth hit their wind-chapped skin once the couple had finally broken apart, Sebastian opening the door for his distinctly kiss-drunk wife.

The Three Broomsticks was just as he remembered, too. Sirona, ever the dedicated businesswoman, spotted them instantly and offered a friendly wave. That was almost certainly Mr. Pippin and Mr. Hill chatting jovially over pints, and that blasted portrait of Ferdinand Pratt that had somehow withstood the ire of the patrons.

Raegan breathed the smallest of fires into her cupped hands before rubbing them together to generate more heat. It was not needed, though; for their friends had clearly planned ahead and already snagged the table just adjacent to the roaring hearth in the back center of the first floor.

Ominis's corn silk hair seemed to reflect its golden light, acting as a beacon for the Gyrffindor and Slytherin alumni to meander their way through the crowd and plop down eagerly at the round mahogany table.

"I was just about to send a Patronus if you hadn't shown up in the next five minutes." Diana gave them both an exasperated look, her brows shooting up as she took in their disheveled appearances. "Did you fly here?"

"Of course we did. It's a gorgeous night." Raegan leaned in to give her lifelong friend (sister might have been a more accurate term) a hug, despite the smaller girl's grumbling.

Ominis, who had his arm slung casually against the back of his wife’s chair, shook his head at Sebastian and Raegan like a disappointed father. It was a gesture so familiar to them both that it had been permanently seared in the back of their minds.

"Well, while you two were wasting time doing god knows what and flying fifty miles instead of Apparating like reasonable people, we've already been through half a flagon of wine." Ominis held up his half-full goblet as evidence.

The Hogwarts Professor was usually not one to indulge so heavily, but with the start of a new school year keeping him busy and his youngest daughter clinging to the chaos of her terrible twos, Sebastian supposed he had more than enough reason tonight.

"Well, you know me. I'll catch up in no time." Sebastian said with a roguish grin as he poured the rich, sweet-smelling liquid into a goblet that had clearly been waiting patiently for him.

Ominis, ever the gentleman, waved his wand to take serve Raegan from the flagon next, its contents tipping into a fourth cup.

"Oh, er...none for me, Ominis; thank you." Raegan said politely, the flush from the cold now returning for an entirely different reason.

His eyebrows furrowed into a mask of disbelief, as though the very fabric of the world had suddenly been torn open. "Are you ill? Or has someone taken Polyjuice Potion and replaced your wife, Sebastian?"

Raegan couldn't help but pair her laugh with an eye roll at Ominis's over dramatic display of surprise over her refusal to drink. Though she supposed it was true, there were very few times in her life she'd turned down a casual drink.

"Oh my-"

Diana's soft gasp broke the suspenseful silence, her pale, delicate fists causing ripples in their goblets as they collided with the table's surface. "I knew it! I told you that dream was a vision, Ominis!"

Now it was Raegan and Sebastian's turn to look confused, their shifting eyes replacing the self-indulgent grins they'd donned long before they'd arrived in the village.

"What dream?" Raegan asked, grabbing her friend's hand to recapture the raven-haired Seer's attention. "What did you see?"

Sebastian could see the tension in her grip, the light reflected by the fireplace that shone in her brilliant amber eyes. She had been dying to share this news; and if he knew her at all, Raegan was nearly bursting to deliver it herself before Diana could answer.

But it appeared her curiosity had won out over her flair for the dramatics at the present moment.

Diana beamed when she met Raegan’s imploring stare. Her voice had lowered, as if sharing an important secret.

"Last week, I dreamt of a little girl. She had the most beautiful auburn hair. Plus these adorable freckles and big, brown eyes. She was playing outside your house with a boy who looked exactly like Samuel, if he were ten years older."

Sebastian and Raegan both sported round, awestruck eyes that flickered to each other before they returned to Diana.

"Wait, I'm having a girl?" Raegan squealed, getting miles ahead of herself while Sebastian put the pieces of the puzzle together in her head.

"It's a girl?!" He gaped at the same moment.

Now, his other two friends were forgotten; his gaze solely on his exuberant wife, tears brimming despite himself.

A girl. It seemed all too perfect. A daughter and a son. Just like him and Anne, and Raegan and her brother Ronan.

"Oh...sur...prise?" Diana smiled sheepishly. "So, are you going to say it, or not?"

"It seems pointless now, since you’ve stolen my spotlight," Raegan raised her brow playfully in the beautiful Seer's direction. "But yes...I'm pregnant!"

Ominis's face broke into a huge smile, its brilliance so rare the honor was rarely bestowed upon anyone , save for the three people seated at the table now.

"Congratulations, Raegan. And you, Sebastian."

Diana began to gush as she hopped up from her seat, throwing her arms around her best friend once more. "This is amazing! How far along are you? Do you have any names picked out yet? How's your morning sickness? Mine was positively awful with both of the girls, I couldn't-"

Ominis chuckled affectionately at her elation. Gently, he placed a guiding hand on her arm to bring her back down to Earth - which was usually her least favorite place to be. "Darling, you're doing it again. Let her breathe for a moment."

To her credit, Diana looked positively pink as she relented and settled back down in her chair without losing her grin.

"Sorry, Rae. I'm just...so happy for you two."

"To answer your questions as my poor wife gathers herself, Di," Sebastian echoed Ominis's affectionate sound with his fingers intertwining through Raegan's. "She's seven weeks along, which is why we weren't sure about telling you just yet. But i suppose now is as good a time as any. And, for names, we were thinking-"

"Kassady Anne." Raegan jumped in for him, squeezing his hand as if she could pour all the love she had into that one gesture.

Diana almost teared up at this revelation, as Ominis let out an uncharacteristic, "aww". The namesakes of Raegan's late mother and Sebastian's only sister. It hadn't been a very difficult decision to come to. Though Sebastian had tried to insist on Anne as the first name in their hypothetical discussions.

"Fair warning," Ominis broke in, a knowing grin stretching his pale face. "Your second child will be your undoing. Little menace; our Gwen."

"Hey, I'm a second child." Raegan retorted, though her offense was clearly falsified. Nothing could break through the bubble of pure joy that seemed to radiate from her like the rays of the sun.

"I think you're proving his point, my love." Sebastian smirked. He barely dodged the well-aimed elbow to his side with a soft sound of indignation.

Ominis raised his glass once more after happily listening to the familiar sounds of his friends' excited chatter. "To Helen, Gwen, Sam, and Kassady-may they leave their own remarkable legacy on the world under our expert guidance."

The four of them all laughed, the sound like a chorus of church bells signifying the end of a long, fulfilling day. Three glasses of wine and one filled with water were raised in celebration, connecting the circle of lifelong friends with a resounding clink.

It had been over ten years since they'd all first sat in this pub together. Back then, the topics of conversation had centered around the goblin rebellion, Professor Black's latest warpath, and the homework that had led to countless sleepless nights.

In a way, things hadn't changed all that much. Except the rebellions now came in the form of arrests made by Raegan at the Auror's office or the tantrums of Ominis and Diana's three year old daughter. War was still in the backs of their minds, but for the most part their arms had been laid down in favor of peace.

And the sleepless nights, well...

Sebastian's mind again wandered back to the blissful visit of his youth. How he'd been unsatisfied with his feet on the ground, longing to soar above the rest.

Now, he got to feel like that every day of his life. No broom required.

[konigsblog]

your spot (johnny mactavish x gn!reader)

mwiii spoilers below. angst warning.

you sat on the hard rock, looking at the blinding sun as it began to set in the far distance. the light yellows and deepening oranges fading, the sunset he created tonight. you could hear the sounds of the cold water swishing and splashing due to the faint wind, along with the chirping on the birds in the trees. the leaves rustling when they flew away.

everything felt so quiet without him. without the constant chatter and his obnoxious jokes, ones that were stupid yet always made you giggle, even if it was just a little. johnny loved that. he loved to make you laugh, to see you smile.

you held the urn in your hands, biting the inside of your cheek and wiping your tears with the back of your hand. holding your boyfriend in your hands just one last time. you couldn't comprehend that this was forever, eternal without him until you joined him too. you sighed out, tears already flowing down your cheeks, staining into your skin.

his ashes laying on the rock, slowly sliding down the mountain and into the highland's sea. you sobbed out, holding the urn close to your chest, chin rested on the lid as you weeped out painfully. your bones and heart aching.

the following days were torture.

november 5th, the day he was supposed to come home from deployment. you had ingredients in the fridge and cupboard, expecting to make his favourite and share it with him. but you couldn't bring yourself too, not when all you could do was stare at the old photos of you two together. his lips on your cheek, the texture of his stubble against your fingers when you ran your fingertips across it.

it all felt too fast, like you were forgetting everything already. you missed the way his large body warmed the sheets, now left cold, his side of the bed empty. his cologne laid half empty, only spraying it occasionally so you could smell him, to be reminded of him. you eventually stopped doing that, as it only brought you to tears.

his toothbrush laid in the same place as it usually did, along with his razor. his shirt on your body, holding it against your face to smell him, his minty, comforting aroma. your eyes watered, grew raw when you thought about him. thought about all the ‘what if’'s

what if you were there? what if he didn't go?

that comforting, rough scottish accent in your ear when you played the voice notes back to yourself. you wish you could listen to him ramble again, about whatever. you usually brushed it off when he spoke about the dumb things his friend gaz had down before, yet you wish you'd never, so you could've spent just a few more minutes with him and his voice in your ear.

you missed the way his hard chest pressed against yours when you hugged him. how he held you in his burly arms, holding you tightly while you ran your fingers along his face as he slept. the shallow breathing and the loud snores. giggling when he mumbled out, ‘i love you’ and held you tighter through sleep.

your heart broke when you found it, laying in a red box.

the ring he was planning to propose to you with.