sepawstian

[sepawstian]

Better late than never. So here I am, challenge completed!)

Looks like everyone who matters to me has already done this, so no tags left... Thanks anyway, @littlejony for the chance!

Thank you for the tag @okeydokeylackey !

Introducing myself as my:

I. Percy Jackson Cabin II. Hogwarts House III. Soldier/Poet/King IV: Zodiac Sign V. Patronus VI. Animagus Form VII. Favorite Harry Potter Character

Th.

U.

NPT. @anyahoney @hi-imaflamingo @cornishpadfoot @littlejony @ravenwind-75 @morelikeravenbore @boomingsmile @l4v3nd3r985 @holisticmagictimetraveller

[sepawstian]

Well, we just saw him, and now we can’t unsee Sebastian in that young man, so... me, @sepawstian and @antivanblessing

Aurors: /searching for a murderer/ Sebastian: /works for the Auror Office, undercover… in a brothel/ Marvolo and Rowan: /show up at the brothel for another shady deal, also undercover/ Sebastian: . . . Marvolo: . . . Rowan to Marvolo: …look at that beauty over there, maybe we should…? Marvolo: Don’t you dare. Rowan: But— Marvolo: DON’T. YOU. DARE. Touch my brother-in-law. Rowan: What? Marvolo: What? Also, Sebastian and Rowan:

Rowan the Wolf belongs to @legacyshenanigans, we just love this guy so much that we couldn’t help seeing him in this situation—and now we can’t unsee it 👀

[sepawstian]

Give me the Future. Part 9

Inside, everything burns, bubbling like poisonous brew, poisoning his blood with rage.

They’ve just found what could help Annie, he needs just a little time to study, to learn, to understand how to use the relic, but no. Ominis has to be reminded again and again that dark magic is dangerous, unforgivable curses are destructive, and there’s another way out of their situation. How to break the curse, most likely a dark one, when goblins hardly know good, light magic, not even understanding the basics? Not knowing what was laid down and how? Without an understanding of the dark arts, their search is doomed to fail, but each of them, except for Sebastian, refuses to accept this, refuses to understand and soil their clean hands. Sebastian is not afraid to get his hands dirty, not afraid to take that step, and if no one else wants to… Well, then he will walk this path alone.

Give me the Future. Chapter 9

(@bog-rosmary & me) Previous Chapter 8 in AO3

[sepawstian]

@lost-in-hogwarts you can reed my new work here or here[AO3]

And my unfamiliar Tumblr inhabitants are lucky, because my latest work ends with only one word, or more precisely the name:

"Sebastian?"

So... I haven't seen you @ominiseb post a new chapter on Legacy in a while, and I really like your style. So here's the challenge! :З

Thank you for the tag @thecreelhouse ily 🥺❤️

last line tag game ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Rule: Post the last line you wrote and tag as many people as their are words.

No pressure 🥺❤️

“ It’s not a cult, Eddie.” You sniffed, rolling your eyes, “If it were a cult, I’d have converted you by now. ”

Tagging: @melodymunson @writhingg @nostalgicmermaaiid @dem0batz @jozstankovich @somnambulic-thing @hellfirenacht @theold-ultraviolence @frombeyondthegravez @jo-harrington @sweatyfuntrash @wolfsteax @itsthecherryontop @offensiuncula @gggoldfinch @thefiasco-onyourblock @writinginthetwilight @lexr86 @mothmans-left-buttcheek @rxqueenotd and YOU 🫵🏼

[sepawstian]

Symphony of Spring

[AO3] Symphony of Spring by sepawstian

Dedicated to you, my beautiful @bog-rosmary

“He’s out of your league. Don’t even try,” Reyes says one day, watching as Sebastian openly steals glances at the blind student from the college they attend. Sallow merely scoffs in response, suppressing the surge of determination and stubbornness that always seems to rise whenever life throws another challenge his way.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Don’t get your hopes up,” he replies, taking a sip from a cheap plastic cup of horribly over-roasted coffee, wistfully thinking of the proper brew he makes himself during his evening shifts at the café.

“Hold you to that,” Imelda teases lightly, not quite mocking but still with a hint of playful jab in her tone. Sebastian rolls his eyes, hoping this conversation—and the topic—will finally drop and leave them in peace.

But the violinist, Ominis Gaunt, refuses to leave his thoughts. His soft, melodic laughter—rarely caught in the bustling corridors as students gather before classes—lingers in Sebastian’s mind. His smiles, fleeting but unforgettable, seen when he speaks with Natty or Amit, are so light yet tinged with weariness, as if smiling doesn’t come easily to him, but he genuinely wants to try.

And his fingers... Sebastian doesn’t dare say it aloud—it’s ridiculous and maddeningly embarrassing—but the thought has crossed his mind more than once. He wonders, absurdly, what it would be like to trade places with the violin, to feel those graceful, refined fingers moving over him with the same tender care, coaxing note after note, almost lovingly, from the strings.

All these thoughts keep him awake at night, dragging his focus away from studying and their band practices entirely. Garreth sighs, setting his guitar aside once again, casting Sebastian a knowing, slightly exasperated look. Imelda, on the other hand, keeps hammering away at the drums and cymbals, her gaze challenging as it locks onto Sallow, daring him to start singing again.

He forces himself to comply, shredding the guitar strings with relentless intensity, playing until the calluses on his fingers wear down to raw, aching skin.

Sebastian asks Anne, hoping to learn at least something about the violinist who has so firmly taken root in his thoughts. His sister understands immediately but keeps her cards close at first, offering evasive, cryptic answers about Ominis, almost driving her twin to frustration before she finally gives in and speaks more plainly.

“He doesn’t really talk to us much,” Anne says sympathetically, shaking her head as she watches her brother. “After practices or performances, he leaves right away. Though...”

“No guessing games or cryptic hints, Anne,” Sebastian grumbles, frowning at her in irritation.

“He communicates with Leander,” Anne replies with a mischievous glint in her eye, fully aware of the fiery dynamic between her brother and Prewett, which has been simmering since their first year. “And to Natty, but she’s often away dealing with family matters.”

Sebastian lets out a low groan, realizing that his little investigation—if it could even be called that—is falling apart before his eyes. Natty’s frequent absences made her no more accessible than Ominis, if not less, and as for Prewett... their feud should have fizzled out ages ago. After all, they had chosen entirely different paths: Sebastian leaned into a more modern direction, while Leander pursued the classical route. The shared guitar class was a distant memory, as was the broken instrument they’d shattered during a heated verbal sparring match.

But Sallow hadn’t forgotten the things Prewett had said about his and Anne’s situation—the remarks about their family’s lack of wealth and standing. It didn’t matter that he and Anne had earned their places at this college through grants, working tirelessly to secure their admission. Leander still held on to grudges, and Sebastian wasn’t sure whether they were aimed at Garreth or himself.

Perhaps it was because Weasley had ended up in the modern guitar class, later switching to bass and spending more and more time with Sebastian. Sallow even suspected that Prewett harbored some special interest in Garreth, though the latter assured him they were just good friends and that Leander simply had a fiery and complicated temperament.

Sebastian felt cornered—or nearly so. Natty was impossible to pin down, always rushing home after classes to care for her father and help with his treatment, as Sebastian had discovered during one of his attempts to reach out. Approaching Prewett would mean swallowing his pride and essentially admitting that he and Anne didn’t truly belong here. And going to Ominis directly... that seemed risky and, well, a bit foolish. Not frightening, of course. Never that. Just... why bother him over something so trivial, right?

It made more sense to gather some preliminary knowledge—not everything, but at least enough to approach the conversation prepared. What if Ominis didn’t like rock at all? What if he preferred jazz? Or perhaps he didn’t care for modern musical trends whatsoever, content with the grandeur of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and others. Not that Sebastian couldn’t appreciate them—he could. He cherished warm memories of childhood music lessons with his parents, back before they were gone.

But what if Ominis refused to speak to him altogether? What if Prewett had already filled his head with tales about the Sallow twins being scrappy nobodies, who had clawed their way into this prestigious college not through wealth or a renowned family name, but through relentless effort—and, maybe, a tiny touch of magic. Reyes had put in a good word for them both with the college director, after all.

I need to talk to Prewett.

Sebastian grimaced so hard at the thought that a nearby patron at the café where he worked evenings gave him a concerned glance, asking if everything was all right. He blinked a few times, sighed, and shook his head, offering an apology for his appearance as he handed over a freshly prepared cup of coffee.

His eyes swept the cozy but modestly sized café. There weren’t many customers, and those who were there were quietly enjoying their drinks. That meant he had a little time—at least until the doorbell chimed again—to do something he’d been dreading but couldn’t avoid any longer.

It was time to write a message to Prewett.

In his contacts list, names like Garreth and Imelda scrolled by, but Sebastian deliberately moved past them, talking himself out of consulting his friends about such a risky idea. The notion of partially baring his soul to Leander—exposing his interest so vulnerably—felt too precarious. He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself.

Eventually, among the other names, “Angry Carrot” appeared. His finger, jittery with nerves, nearly slipped right to initiate a call. He muttered under his breath, fumbling to cancel the near-mistake by pressing the button too many times in a row. Finally, he swiped left, took a breath, and began typing.

"This is Sebastian. Sallow, that is. Could we talk sometime?"

Sent.

Of course, Sebastian knew that Leander might refuse, might not have his phone on hand now, or simply might not notice the notification popping up on his screen. Still, for a while, he stared at his phone, willing it to vibrate with an incoming reply.

But the device remained silent, and the soft chime of the café doorbell pulled him back to reality. A new customer had arrived, and Sebastian had no choice but to set his thoughts aside for now, returning to the comforting rhythm of brewing coffee and serving patrons.

Without hesitation, he chats with the visitors, maintaining light-hearted conversations when necessary, or remaining quiet when he senses someone isn’t in the mood to talk. On the cardboard cups, he writes neutral, pleasant notes, careful not to intrude on anyone’s thoughts too much.

He supposes he could speak to Ominis the same way—gently teasing with his words, narrowing his eyes playfully, offering compliments one after the other. But this time, he wants honesty.

The last time, he’d had enough of fleeting exchanges that led nowhere meaningful—just a pleasant evening with no strings attached, leaving behind only the hollow aftertaste of emptiness. This time, he refuses to settle for less.

By the end of his shift, Sebastian has completely forgotten about his text, having immersed himself fully in work. It’s only when he places the black apron neatly on a shelf in the backroom, and his phone buzzes incessantly in his hand, that the memory comes back to him.

Amid the nearly one hundred messages in the group chat with Garreth and Imelda, and four missed calls from Garreth, Sebastian finally finds two short texts from Leander.

“This was... unexpected, Sallow.” “Will tomorrow at 4:45 PM after classes work for you?”

Declining such an offer would have been unthinkable, so Sebastian types out a brief, "Yes, that's fine," without sparing a thought for the fact that he’d also need to pick up Anne afterward. He figures he’ll text her tomorrow to give her a heads-up and avoid a full day of her speculating about the thaw in his frosty feud with Prewett.

To his surprise, he falls asleep that night. After coming home from his café shift, exhaustion takes over the moment his head hits the pillow.

The next morning, however, his thoughts descend on him in waves, swirling with doubts and hesitation. More than once, he picks up his phone, tempted to cancel the meeting with Leander. Focus eludes him during classes, and he finds himself sneaking off for smoke breaks more often than usual, drawing curious glances from fellow students and mild reprimands from professors.

When the fateful time finally arrives, Sebastian finds himself standing in a distant corridor, gazing out the window and counting the budding leaves on the nearest tree as they push through winter's remnants. Anything to distract himself. Pruett is late—not by much, but enough for Sebastian to assume it’s deliberate. Perhaps Leander wants to "teach him a lesson," reminding him of his supposed place alongside people like Anne. But eventually, Pruett emerges from the lecture hall, his assessing gaze sweeping over Sebastian as if weighing him.

“We’re here to talk about... Garreth.”

“...Gaunt.”

They stand staring at each other for a beat too long, both trying to decipher what the other had in mind when agreeing to this meeting. Leander presses his lips together, a faint flush creeping over his face as he shifts his gaze to the side, clearly sorting through his thoughts and simmering—whether at Sebastian’s audacity or sheer nerve was hard to tell. Meanwhile, Sebastian exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose with enough force to leave marks. Of course, he’d forgotten to clarify the purpose of their meeting, and now they were caught in this awkward limbo.

Before Leander can start hissing like a boiling kettle, Sebastian cuts him off.

“Let’s walk”

The spring breeze cools them both, carrying with it the crisp promise of renewal. Sunlight dances across freckled skin, forcing narrowed eyes and unintentional smiles. Finally, they manage to partially let go of old grievances. Leander, speaking in a low, awkward voice, offers an apology for the past. Sebastian, far calmer, apologizes for the present, making it clear that there is nothing more than good friendship between him and Garreth.

Sebastian doesn’t miss the subtle shift in Leander’s demeanor—the way his shoulders finally relax, the way his clenched fists loosen, fingers brushing nervously against his uniform trousers, as though trying to erase the excess tension.

They talk about Ominis sparingly. Not as much or as deeply as Sebastian might have hoped, but enough for him to learn a few key things—details he quietly tucks away for later.

Ominis isn’t closed off, but things with his family are... complicated. He recently moved in with his aunt, which finally allows him more time for everything else, not just his studies. He clings to music desperately, as if it’s his lifeline to a world where people truly see him—free of flaws and judgment. Yet he struggles deeply whenever he’s without his violin, feeling adrift in any company without that familiar anchor in his hands.

Leander doesn’t share much more, but he pauses to ask Sebastian why he’s suddenly so interested. He warns him, too—with an edge of protectiveness—that he’ll stand up for his friend, not Garreth this time, if Sebastian does anything to hurt Ominis.

"Don’t worry about it. I won’t," Sebastian replies tiredly, his voice betraying a bitterness he hadn’t intended. He lets a hint of his interest in Ominis slip, unwittingly revealing more to Leander than he meant to.

They part ways not as enemies anymore, but not yet friends either—there’s still a long way to go. However, a thaw in their relationship has finally begun. Sebastian promises he’ll try to bother Garreth a little less about dragging him to concerts on weekends, or inviting Leander along if his delicate ears can handle the noise and chaos of their favorite bands. Leander doesn’t promise Sebastian anything in return, and Sebastian doesn’t expect anything either.

Imelda huffs in displeasure, poking Sebastian with the fork she has her asparagus speared on, drawing his attention to herself.

"I don’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but... I told you so. And what did you do?"

"Hey, I didn’t even try, just double-checked," Sebastian replies, raising both hands above the table in a gesture of surrender. "But you should probably look over there at ‘your’ new headache."

Sebastian hums, tilting his head to the side as he nods toward Garreth, who’s laughing too loudly at one of Leander's jokes, standing a little too close to Prue, more than just a close friend.

"Oh no. Another one’s going to catch the spring fever soon. And what am I supposed to do alone on the drums, huh, Sallow?" Reyes grumbles, clicking her tongue in mock frustration as she glares at Sebastian.

"Me? I’m not going anywhere, Reyes. Don’t even hope," Sebastian responds with a smirk. "And besides, Garreth’s going to get tired of being torn between Leander and the band, so we’ll have one more listener."

"Don’t you dare—"

"Hey, Gaz!" Sebastian waves his hand enthusiastically at Garreth. "Next time, bring Prue to our rehearsal! Let him add something a little more... acoustic."

Garreth just smirks and gives a thumbs up in response.

"I hate you, Sallow..." Imelda groans, covering her eyes with her hand so she doesn't have to see how excitedly and brightly Weasley is gesturing something to Leander.

"You love me, Reyes," Sebastian smirks, carefully pulling Imelda's hand away from her face. "Besides, you were the one who said we needed listeners, right?"

All that comes in response is a heavy sigh from Reyes.

Everything falls back into its usual rhythm, but this time there’s one more person in their group. Leander really adds a bit more classical, lyrical sound to their band, pushing the usual boundaries of their style and helping them explore new directions, not just the "noise and chaos," as Prueutt had pointed out during one of their rehearsals.

Anne shares her success in the orchestra. They even perform together as a duet at one of the concerts, with their flute and violin melodies receiving a thunderous ovation afterwards. Ann tries a few times to bring up the topic of Ominis with Sebastian, asking what he learned from his conversation with Leander, but Sebastian always sidesteps the topic, avoiding anything related to the blind violinist.

After that conversation with Prewett, Sebastian realizes just how different he and Ominis are. His noisy, cheerful gatherings, the loud music that nearly knocks you off your feet, simply don’t suit Ominis. The other is striving for something, moving toward his goal, at least knowing one thing in his life with certainty, while Sebastian has no idea where he’ll go after college. He wonders if he’ll be able to push the band even to the point of an indie project or if they’ll all abandon it and go their separate ways.

Ominis comes from that same wealthy family, while Sebastian struggles to make ends meet, working part-time in the evenings when he’s not studying or rehearsing. Ominis wears soft, knitted sweaters in the winter, holding a mug of mate in his fingers, trying to warm himself. Sebastian, on the other hand, walks around in black hoodies, sometimes forgetting to zip them up, and shakes his iced bumble with the plastic cup, making a clinking sound.

Ominis is like light, and Sebastian is the unflattering shadow. There are just too many differences between them.

Sebastian doesn't look at his phone while working, handing out order after order to the late-night visitors. The coffee machine hisses with heat, grinding the beans with a deafening noise, releasing the aromatic, coffee dust into the portafilter. The bell above the door rings behind him, and without turning around, Sebastian shouts:

"One minute!"

He turns off the steam, pouring the heated milk into the cup where coffee with a few squirts of syrup is already resting at the bottom, and, after placing the order on the pickup counter, finally directs his gaze toward the new guest, freezing.

"I was told the coffee here is pretty good, but I'd still prefer a matcha, if you have it on the menu..."

His smile is still a little tired, but sincere, with tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, just at the start of the constellation of freckles on his cheek. His voice is soft, with a light touch of laughter, almost weightlessly brushing against the tip of his nose, teasing it gently. His eyes... as it turns out, they are even more beautiful up close, captivating enough to almost turn someone to stone with just a single glance.

"...Sebastian?"

[sepawstian]

the warmth of your letters gives off apples and flowers

Whenever we met, I often wanted to tell you this, but some almost primal sense of shame held me back. Now, being far away, I can be more honest—after all, a letter doesn’t blush.

Dear Anne,

How’s your health? What do the St. Mungo’s healers say? I hope it’s only good news and that you’ll be able to get out of there soon.

Hogwarts is the same as always. We barely started preparing for our O.W.L.s, and Sharp is already scaring us with N.E.W.T.s and rushing us to pick subjects for next year. As if we have any energy left for anything besides studying. But it’s fine—I suppose by early August, once we get our results, they’ll finally let us choose our subjects.

I heard they’re allowing you to take your O.W.L.s! I’m sure you’ll pass them all brilliantly, and next year, you’ll be studying with us instead of from Feldcroft. Honestly, I can’t wait. It’s not the same here without you.

I don’t know if Ominis has told you, but he’ll be staying at the family estate this summer. After everything that happened in the fall and winter, they don’t want to let him come to us. He had to tell Professor Weasley about the Scriptorium first, and only then them. Apparently, they weren’t pleased.

I asked Ominis if there was anything I could do to help, if I could speak to them, but—you know him—he refused. And when I suggested meeting them in person, he asked me never to bring it up again. To be honest, I can’t even imagine summer without him anymore... and I’m afraid of what they might do to him.

It’s… difficult with him lately. I suppose I still can’t come to terms with—or even understand—why, after everything, he forgives me. I don’t know. I just don’t want him to leave for the summer, because without him, it won’t be the same. Just like without you. But I won’t tell him that—I know it would only upset him more, no matter how hard he tries to pretend everything’s fine.

He still hasn’t broken that habit of his—falling asleep anywhere in the castle. I found him in the greenhouse the other day, near that huge tree by the entrance. Basking in the sun like our very own kneazle.

There’s something I need to confess to you.

I wish things had turned out differently, but

Anne, I hope you can understand.

I won’t be coming to Feldcroft this summer.

I know you’ve done so much for me. Ominis and Christian too. But I can’t. I can’t look him in the eyes, knowing what I almost did, and pretend as if nothing happened. I’m still angry—at him, at myself. I want to believe it’ll get easier with time.

I shared some of my worries with Sirona. I know, a third pint of Butterbeer was too much, but I was just too exhausted from all the studying. She sent me an owl recently.

An elderly couple in Hogsmeade is planning to travel across Europe this summer, but they don’t have enough spare Galleons for protective enchantments on their home. So, I’ll be looking after their house while they’re away. As for work, Sirona promised to ask around—maybe someone could use an extra pair of hands. I think I’ll manage.

I hope you are not too angry with me and, if your health allows, you will come and visit me.

—Sebastian

P.S. Christian asks about your health more than anyone, and just the other day, he even inquired about your favorite flowers. Tell me, has he been courting you for long? And does Uncle know about it?

I wrote this with a fellow player who portrayed Anne @amelie-evans We created a beautiful, tender scene. My letters were and still are written as Sebastian, while my fellow player wrote as Anne. I would like to share the time between the fifth and sixth years, when for Sebastian, Anne, Ominis, and MC ( @bog-rosmary , @amelie-evans) everything came to an end. Solomon wasn't killed, Anne was healed (you can read about how this happened here), and here's a piece of the end of the fifth year and the beginning of summer for Sebastian

[sepawstian]

Garreth and Sebastian

— The nephew of the Deputy Headmistress herself—one would think that means more leniency, but in reality, it just means more scrutiny — Proud owner of the titles "I just wanted to try" and "Oops, something went wrong." — A decent potion-maker… if what you wanted was something explosive — Runner-up in the "Most Frequently Kept After Class" category. Sorry, Weasley, first place is mine, but you can fight for the title

From the very first year, they teach us to compete with one another, to look down on other houses, to fight for five fleeting minutes of glory at the end of the year. They say, "You are enemies." They say, "You are opposites that should never belong together." But we know the truth—we have far more in common than they want us to believe.

Red and green supposedly clash, yet no one seems to mind it during Yule. So maybe things aren’t as they’ve always told us?

Just don’t lose that fiery red hair, that freckled grin, that mischief and curiosity that keeps driving you to torment poor cauldrons and Sharp himself.

Honestly, Garreth, you’re going to push our dear Potions Master over the edge at this rate. I mean, I don’t mind, but… what will your aunt say?

For Sebastian, Garreth is about shared foolishness, pranks, experiments, and a friendship that sneaks up on you when you're not looking. Their interactions are playful nudges to the ribs, kicks under the desk when they’re forced to sit together, one making the other laugh with some ridiculous idea. It’s the unspoken mutual aid, accompanied by eye-rolls when surrounded by their own housemates. It’s the first taste of butterbeer and the first hangover after it. It’s dumb bets like "Who can fly to the Astronomy Tower and back the fastest?" that somehow land them both on their house Quidditch teams—something they never planned.

It’s the spiked punch at their first Yule Ball in fourth year, with alcohol that Garreth brewed in some hidden corner of the castle. And so much more.

There’s not much known about Garreth, unfortunately. Yes, he tested his potions on his sister, frequently swiped rare ingredients from Sharp just to experiment, and was likely kept after class more than once—because there’s no way he got away with all of that unnoticed.

I never imagined Sebastian as someone who saw inter-house rivalry as serious as the school wanted it to be. It seems likely he and Garreth crossed paths during detentions, both earning their punishments for mischief. Even before his sister’s curse, Sallow was curious, reckless, and ambitious in his own way.

I wanted more of Weasley. I wanted more interactions between students, more thrilling, silly, and ridiculous stories that could’ve happened within the castle walls and beyond.

Someday, I hope, a roleplayer for Garreth will come along, and I’ll finally get to "run as Sebastian" alongside the mischievous Weasley.

P.S. I headcanon that both Garreth and Sebastian were Chasers on their respective Quidditch teams.

[sepawstian]

unreliable narrator

It's really not easy to start sharing my thoughts, ideas, and sketches when, for the past two years, it was just me and @bog-rosmary (my Omi), holding onto each other desperately, feeling like there was no one around us who knew the Hogwarts Legacy fandom. And joining the English-speaking community was difficult because of the language barrier.

And now, it all feels... pointless? Because after two years of roleplaying, I've merged so much with 'my' Sebastian—who feels and acts in his own unique way—that 'her' @bog-rosmary Ominis doesn’t even need an explanation for why he behaves the way he does. It's like breathing. You just are. There are emotions, actions that you’ve already experienced, and they’ve changed you.

Back when there was only one piece of fan art, just a handful of beautiful screenshots of Sebastian and Ominis, I wanted so badly to talk, to interact. But I missed my chance.

And now, I just feel... scared, out of place, and kind of stupid sharing anything at all. Because everything has already been discussed so many times—so what could make mine special?

I’m so afraid to step in (or back in) with everything I have, only to find myself drowning in that consuming loneliness or feeling like I don’t belong again. But I’m deeply grateful that I still have her, my love @bog-rosmary, and the warm little sun @littlejony that keeps us safe with its kindness and support.

Maybe, after this long and difficult journey, Sebastian and I need to try putting ourselves back together—piece by piece—and start sharing again, even if only with those closest to us. Gathering up the last glowing embers of our bright smiles and laughter, the ones that nearly faded away… just like Anne did.

[sepawstian]

For Annie from Sebastian

Just be my sun, and I will be your moon

You are my sun.

We have a sky of freckles, a starry expanse shared between the two of us. We have a shared room, toys, and parents enchanted by magic, staying up late over their books. We've known each other since birth, sharing sorrows, sharing joy, while the world remains vast and mesmerizing—a mystery we can’t wait to unravel when we finally enter the school of wizardry, eager to understand the secrets that make our parents laugh one moment and marvel the next.

You are my anchor, and I am yours. We enter Hogwarts, holding onto each other as if letting go would mean losing one of us—just like the parents we’ve already lost. We do not end up with the wise and dignified Eagles, like our parents once did. We end up with the Snakes, treading through the dungeons, dissolving our sorrow in the golden glimmers of sunlight that barely break through the depths of the Black Lake. There, we meet him. And strangely enough, he becomes dear to us far too quickly.

You are my other half. Half of my smiles, half of my jokes, my puns, half of the silly, reckless ideas that sometimes leave us lingering after class under Ominis’s blind but ever-so-slightly amused gaze. We teach him to see the world, and he teaches us how to feel it.

You are my sun, now fading. My Annie, a shadow of herself. It hurts to watch you wither in pain, to see the healers shake their heads, to hear Uncle practically order you—and me—to accept that things will never be as they once were. And it hurts even more to see you agree with him.

But I won’t wait. I won’t stand by and watch as the freckles on your pale cheeks vanish, as you fade more with each passing day. I will not stop, Annie. I will find what will save you. No matter the cost.

[sepawstian]

Sebastian: harder!

Inferi: ...what?

Sebastian: ...what?

Hi there me again from pinterest😅 May I ask how you moved the inferi from those cool pictures? I tried to conjure enemies with a mod but I couldn’t control them with Otis🙈

Hi! It was a moment in the game before the fight with Solomon, Sebastian was standing there surrounded by these inferi. You can pose them in that scene :)