#author's ocs

[kisakis-boyfriend]

OC Introductions -> Sylis

Picrews used -> Link - Link

Dividers are from @/cafekitsune!

Name: Sylis

Age: 24 in human years

Height: 5'4 or 162.56 cm

Pronouns: He/him + they/them

Orientation/Gender: Unknown

Species: Anti-shadow suppression weapon / Android

Relationships:

Romantic: Shinjiro, Aigis

Platonic/familial: Makoto, Yukari, Junpei, Fuuka, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Ken, Koromaru, Mr. Ikutsuki, Chidori, Labrys

?????: Takaya, Jin, Elizabeth

Position: Bottom

Sub/Dom/Switch?: Submissive

Kinks/Fetishes/Likes: Wire play, size difference, overstimulation, humiliation (in denial), hair pulling, praise, mild petplay (puppy)

Hard No's: Choking, hard degradation, impact play/spanking/slapping

Backstory: A special shadow suppression unit created by an independent scientist shortly after the line of Aigis and her fellow units; Sylis has advanced genital configurations compared to previous models (thanks to his perverted master). After his master passed, Sylis wandered the streets of Port Island, unsure of what to do without someone to feed him instructions endlessly. With no place to call home and no connections with the humans of this world, Sylis wandered until he eventually bumped into a man with wavy brown hair and glasses, whom he bonded with immediately — Mr. Ikutsuki.

Mr. Ikutsuki moved Sylis into Iwatodai dorm and the android remained there with the student inhabitants until they graduated. Afterwards, they followed Shinjiro Aragaki, promising to be a helpful companion no matter what!

Additional fun facts:

Sylis saved Shinjiro during the events of October 4th, administering first aid and ultimately saving his life.

In an alternate universe, Sylis also managed to save Makoto. This event led to his persona evolving for a second time; the first being on the day that he saved Shinjiro.

His default genitals consist of a vagina and an anus. No penis attachments were ever made for their specific model.

Their attack type is strike damage.

He is weak to electric and light elements.

He can absorb dark damage.

His weapon of choice is his fists.

They cannot consume food. This fact upsets Sylis greatly since, in their words, “Human foods look amazing! The people at the cafes always smile when they consume baked goods… :(”

[melloncolliegalaxies]

[companionquest]

Top Ten Cullen Rutherford Blunders

[illarian-rambling]

Yay, unsolicited advice time! Or, not really advice, more like miscellaneous tips and tricks, because if there's one thing eight years of martial arts has equipped me to write, it's fight scenes.

.

Fun things to add to a fight scene (hand to hand edition)

It's not uncommon for two people to kick at the same time and smack their shins together, or for one person to block a kick with their shin. This is called a shin lock and it HURTS like a BITCH. You can be limping for the rest of the fight if you do it hard enough.

If your character is mean and short, they can block kicks with the tip of their elbow, which hurts the other guy a lot more and them a lot less

Headbutts are a quick way to give yourself a concussion

If a character has had many concussions, they will be easier to knock out. This is called glass jaw.

Bad places to get hit that aren't the groin: solar plexus, liver, back of the head, side of the thigh (a lot of leg kicks aim for this because if it connects, your opponent will be limping)

Give your character a fighting style. It helps establish their personality and physicality. Are they a grappler? Do they prefer kicks or fighting up close? How well trained are they?

Your scalp bleeds a lot and this can get in your eyes, blinding you

If you get hit in the nose, your eyes water

Adrenaline's a hell of a drug. Most of the time, you're not going to know how badly you've been hurt until after the fact

Even with good technique, it's really easy to break toes and fingers

Blocking hurts, dodging doesn't

.

Just thought these might be useful! If you want a more comprehensive guide or a weapons edition, feel free to ask. If you want, write how your characters fight in the comments!

Have a bitchin day <3

[marciaillust]

trapped in amber

[alwri-tes]

The emotional connection between a writer/artist and a really obscure song that they associate with their characters is immensely powerful and cannot be explained

[ruushes]

stuff i drew pre-release and then was like hm maybe better wait to see if im way off about the dynamic and just insane about them, but i think these turned out accurate enough (im still insane about them)

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

50 Character Personality Traits + Meanings (For writers, worldbuilders, and artists) Part 1

Adventurous - Enjoys trying new experiences and exploring the unknown.

Ambitious - Driven to succeed and achieve their goals.

Analytical - Tends to think critically and examine things in-depth.

Artistic - Highly creative and expresses themselves through artistic mediums.

Assertive - Confident in expressing their thoughts and feelings.

Caring - Shows compassion and concern for the well-being of others.

Charismatic - Has a natural charm and appeal that draws people in.

Clever - Able to come up with creative solutions and make astute observations.

Compassionate - Displays empathy and a desire to help those in need.

Confident - Believes in their own abilities and is self-assured.

Conscientious - Reliable, responsible, and attentive to detail.

Curious - Eager to learn new things and explore the world around them.

Cynical - Tends to be skeptical and distrustful of others' motives.

Dependable - Can be counted on to follow through on their commitments.

Determined - Persistent in pursuing their goals and overcoming challenges.

Diplomatic - Skilled at navigating social situations and resolving conflicts.

Eccentric - Displays unconventional or unusual behaviors and interests.

Empathetic - Able to understand and share the feelings of others.

Ethical - Guided by a strong moral compass and a sense of right and wrong.

Extraverted - Enjoys being around people and draws energy from social interactions.

Flexible - Adaptable to changes and open to trying new approaches.

Forgiving - Willing to let go of past hurts and give people second chances.

Friendly - Approachable and enjoys building positive relationships with others.

Grounded - Practical, down-to-earth, and focused on the present.

Hardworking - Diligent and dedicated in their efforts to achieve their goals.

Honest - Values truthfulness and integrity in their words and actions.

Idealistic - Driven by a vision of how the world should be and a desire to make a difference.

Imaginative - Possesses a rich inner world and creative problem-solving abilities.

Independent - Prefers to think and act for themselves without relying on others.

Indecisive - Struggles with making decisions and often second-guesses themselves.

Introverted - Finds energy and fulfillment in solitary activities and introspection.

Jealous - Experiences feelings of resentment or insecurity towards others.

Kind - Gentle, considerate, and thoughtful in their treatment of others.

Leaders - Able to inspire and guide others towards a common goal.

Logical - Approaches problems and decisions through a rational, analytical lens.

Materialistic - Highly values the acquisition of possessions and wealth.

Organized - Maintains order and efficiency in their personal and professional life.

Perfectionistic - Strives for flawlessness and can be overly critical of themselves and others.

Pessimistic - Tends to focus on the negative aspects of situations and expect the worst.

Resilient - Able to bounce back from setbacks and adapt to changes.

Risk-taker - Willing to take chances and step outside of their comfort zone.

Sarcastic - Uses irony and witty remarks to convey their thoughts and feelings.

Sensitive - Deeply affected by the emotions and experiences of themselves and others.

Stubborn - Unwilling to change their mind or compromise on their beliefs and opinions.

Suspicious - Inclined to doubt the motives and intentions of others.

Thoughtful - Considerate of the impact their words and actions have on others.

Timid - Shy, reserved, and hesitant to take risks or assert themselves.

Trustworthy - Reliable, honest, and worthy of confidence.

Unpredictable - Displays an element of surprise and spontaneity in their behavior.

Witty - Possesses a quick, clever, and humorous way of expressing themselves.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[trashwithvariety]

the goal is to write well enough to get fan art of your OC

[bunnygirllover45]

— THE THRILL OF THE HUNT.

♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann literally hunts down the reader, Small outburst at the end, and a lot of bullshit talk about hunting because I like it, DEAD DOVE. No violence was used.

Synopsis: You escape from Johann, he has to track you down. WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Johann wasn't exactly the thrill-seeking kind. He always preferred a slow-paced life, not filled with many excitements or tragedies. He wasn’t an adventurous spirit or a fiery soul in search of greater meaning. In his head, the only thing he needed was you.

And maybe that’s why this exact moment made his blood boil with newfound rapture, he could swear for a moment his skin bumped at the feeling of his heart throbbing so quickly against his ribcage. The thrill of the hunt, like his father used to say, made mere men become beasts, some because it was vital for their survival, others because of the rush of power it gave them.

But he couldn’t quite understand it until now. For him, hunts weren’t that exciting. The game was always too easy to track down, the footsteps effortlessly concealed. The gun didn’t feel heavy enough. His breath didn’t quicken at the mere chance of letting his prey slip away; he’ll always find a way to reach them again, after all. Animals have their habits; they’re easy to decipher once you know their true nature.

This is the type of hunt he’s been craving for so long. Johann had to press a hand against his mouth to prevent a low chuckle from escaping. Oh, how right his father was. This was truly trilling to the core, the kind of thrill that made a foreign heat rise towards his head and seep into his very brain tissue.

Humans aren’t like animals, their behavior is a little more erratic, animals can be divided between highly intelligent beings and straight-up dumb ones, but humans? All of them had their quirks, you couldn’t easily guess how prepared someone could be under certain circumstances. “Isn’t that so fucking interesting?” 

Lowering himself to the ground Johann reached to touch the freshly shaped footstep that his precious prey left behind. If they’re leaving such a pretty trail behind they’re expecting me to find them, what a tease.

“You know what kind of animals roam these types of terrains?” His voice was loud enough to carry its sound through the extremely quiet, when the hunt begins, the forest goes quiet, no need to scream. “Bears, moose, sometimes even wolves. Had to detangle a lot of ‘em from traps before, not without properly securing they won’t be able to bite, ‘course.” 

His heavy boots made the rotten wood and debris scattered around the forest soil yield under their weight, no need to change onto more quiet shoes, his bunny wouldn’t be able to hear him coming, surely their heartbeat was the only thing resounding inside their ears. Reaching into his pocket he took out his watch, starting a countdown. “I’ll give you two minutes to gain distance, cover your tracks, you can try hiding if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend staying still, it makes you easier to spot.” 

“Once the two minutes are done I’ll begin searching, I'll make a bird calling each 45 seconds, and once three minutes pass by, I’ll stop making bird callings and hunt in earnest, ‘kay? Just want to make the game easier for you, it isn’t fun if I’m the one with the upper hand all the time even if this is my subject.” 

With a deep sigh, he crouched down again, his hands fidgeting inside his pocket until he found a cigarette, the last one actually. Grabbing his lighter he lit up the tip, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke escape from his lips. 

His free hand reached to grab the gun he always had with him, it was an old friend of sorts, stuck by his side in all the worst situations, a lot of people meeting their death at the end of this same barrel. Maybe it should have your name, after all, people do name their guns sometimes.

The forest grew more eerily quiet, the sun setting down in the distance while Johann quietly awaited the starting gunshot of the race, he didn’t really need to put the time on his watch, he could already count the time down to the millisecond inside his head. “Forty-eight, forty-nine…” His gloved fingers tapped against his lips, hands tightly clad in leather gloves, perfect for the harsh Austrian winter. 

A part of him wished you didn’t even make the effort to run away, maybe finding you curled up against a rock or a tree just waiting for him to find you was more exciting than actually pursuing you, after all, that meant you truly gave up on the idea of leaving him behind—still, another part of his brain screamed for you to run, so he could find you and make sure you won’t try pulling up bullshit like this again.

Slowly he stood up, the watch making a low beeping sound before he began to walk, settling the gun back onto the strap around his thigh. Holding the cigarette in between his lips he began to prepare the clothes you were going to use once he caught you, after all, little you decided to escape both barefoot and barely dressed, the worst thing in this forest beside him was the cold. Holding the spare jacket he always brought with him inside his bag and a blanket he continued to walk nonchalantly, not even sparing a single stare in any direction that wasn’t just dead front and center. 

Johann's stare drifted onto the floor, a little disappointed that you didn’t take his recommendation into account, there, clear as day, were your pretty little marks for him to follow like a bloodhound. Johann even took the time to carefully make sure he didn’t accidentally step into any of them, not wanting to overshadow the loving tracks you left behind for him with his heavy boots.

He knew very well he was taking all of this too lightly, this was a high gamble where he could lose everything or gain all, but still the elated sense of happiness and bubbling excitement made him more self-confident, too sure you wouldn’t get away too far, and even if you did, he’d stay in the damn forest all the time necessary for you to realize you need to go back onto his loving arms.

Stopping dead in his tracks he turned around as he heard a small sound coming from behind a fallen stump, dead bark peeling off the tree’s corpse. There you are.

And there you were indeed, curled up in a ball, back pressing against the rough bark as you held your arms around your torso, bracing yourself from the harsh winter cold, from the shiver that ran down your shoulders towards your legs or the sight you so pathetically defenseless made him smile, a blush creeping up onto his features.

“You didn’t even run far enough to let me do any bird calls, are you that tired, baby?” He kneeled down in front of you, but as soon as you jolted up in surprise Johann’s hand shot to grab your wrist with unnerving quickness. His dark eyes bore into you, a small smile gracing his lips, but there was no emotion behind that expression of his. “That’s okay, next time I’ll give you some proper equipment, some shoes wouldn’t hurt.” 

His thumb caressed the skin of your wrist, while his other hand threw away the now almost half-smoked cigarette that Johann held in between his lips. Eventually he reached to grab your head in between them, rubbing your cheeks with such tenderness that it could be even soothing in a different situation. “There, you did good. Not good enough to grant you a reward, but you did have me a little scared back there.” His smile widened as he lied through his teeth. You frowned, tired, freezing cold and also breathless, but still with enough energy to try and pry his hand away from your wrist, it was useless, he was latched onto you like a handcuff. “Fuck yo—” Before you could even finish he reached to clasp his free hand onto your mouth, the sudden movement making you stumble backward, head pressing against the tree. “Fuckin’ language.” He whispered between his teeth, staring at you dead in the eyes. “You should be grateful I didn’t put a damn bullet in between those pretty eyes of yours. Runnin’ away from me like that? After all I did for you? I let you away from my sight for just a second and you go jolting away like a fucking rabbit.” 

Taking a deep breath he lowered his head, slowly pushing his hand away from your mouth, his face leaning closer to you, the only warm feeling gracing your warm body being his hot breath against your face. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He pushed your lower lip with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss onto your flesh as some sick and twisted kind of apology.

“I won’t be as lenient next time, ‘kay? You know I care about you a lot, meine Liebe, don’t want you getting hurt.” He forced a smile, leaning his forehead against yours, but again his voice was masked by the thumping sound of your heart against your ears. “Let’s get you back to the car, I’ll get you all warmed up and cozy.” 

You just let him grab you, his hands effortlessly grabbing you and carrying you bridal style as both of you made your way back toward the car, you stole a few glances at Johann’s face, finding a small smile and that darn blush in his cheeks that showed how much he enjoyed himself, maybe a twisted part of him was truly pleased by all of this, even if it just started as a rebellious act of trying to escape from your part.

“Hear that? It’s a White-tailed eagle. Birds of prey, always hunted them with my father as a child.” Suddenly the forest wasn’t so quiet anymore, the hunt has ended.

[moyazaika]

Fangdokja baby, unblock me, will you? I just wanna talk :)

Genocide. Antisemitism. Concentration camps. White supremacy. Islamophobia. The klu klux klan. Conversion therapy. Pedophilia.

Listed above, my loves, are only a few of the topics FD hopes to write about when it migrates platforms and leaves tumblr. (I mean thank christ. baruch hashem. alhamdulillah. we're finally free.)

FD says quite explicitly and at length that she has been, in her own words, holding back from writing about such topics due to tumbr guidelines and not, as she makes sure to let us know multiple times and very explicitly so, because of a "lack of desire” on her own part.

Huh. Okay, interesting.

Say, FD, why have you been holding back on writing about the very painful and devastating realities that billions of people in the world face every single day as if they are trivial topics and fanfiction tags you have been permitted to use? :)

Maybe I'm missing something here. Fill me in, won’t you? Why could you have possibly been yearning to write about little kids in a sexual context? How did you put it? Ohhh, yeah;

Infants? So close! That’s actually CSAM babes!

This is not even about yandere content anymore. It’s about your sheer ignorance and prejudice which prevents you from seeing just how fucked up of a person you are. Jesus did not ask you to trivialise and sensationalise incredibly sensitive experiences and prejudices that you will never understand nor live through.

You know what your religion does say, though?

1 Corinthians 10:23 NIV; "I have the right to do anything," you say—but not everything is beneficial. "I have the right to do anything, but not everything is constructive."

Think on that, won’t you? :)

Let me end this by saying, as a dark content writer myself, I firmly reject the idea of censorship and pirating fictional content both when it is created and when it is consumed.

However, I'm also not a fucking idiot.

When adults use their critical thinking skills to separate fiction from reality, I'm all for the exploration/unpacking/interrogation of taboo topics. It is very dangerous to condemn people for what they choose to write as an expression of their artistic abilities or personal experiences.

Fiction ≠ Reality. This idea is nothing new, and rightfully so. Everyone should be able to write what they want.

But a Christian woman shamelessly expresses homophobia? Has said very clearly in the past that the reader inserts in her posts will only ever be written as being pale, skinny, teenagers in mind? And now she wants to turn around and say she's writing about topics like conversion therapy and racism and expects anyone to believe it's from a purely creative standpoint?

Omg baby you must think we're all as moronic as you :(

Your vendetta, FD, is clear as day, and your vindication is utterly disgusting.

I condemn you.

I condemn your content.

I condemn the 'creative freedom' under which you and your supporters will defend your ability to take the lived experiences of millions of queer people, transgender people, jews, muslims, survivors of vicious hate crimes, children, victims of grooming, disabled people, black people, brown people, asians, and survivors of genocide to turn into content for your bigoted anime porn blog.

Whilst I still firmly believe fiction does not equate to reality, I wonder whether you think the same. Every other belief except for your own is up for grabs in a taboo free for all.

So when you say nothing is sacred in fiction?

I wonder whether that’s true of your own God as well—or just everybody else’s.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Your original WIP is getting an adaptation! Spin this wheel to find out what it is!

Feel free to ramble about your results in the tags!

[zetsubobu]

I love how all artists have this collective desire to make our ocs suffer

[companionquest]

he’s a successful novelist he’s a criminal he’s the mayor he’s a father figure he’s a short king he bets on losing dogs he’s my best friend

[myokk]

marry me

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 5,4k

summary: in which Garreth Weasley has a potions mishap that causes MC to become incomprehensibly proper, and Sebastian is going mad.

cw: fluff, mutual pining, giant squid guest appearance, marriage proposal, loss of virginity RATED M (not *really* explicit) smut (18+ ONLY)

a/n: I had so much fun writing this! I've been working on it since January (I'm the world's slowest writer) and shout out to the amazing girl in my ao3 comments who requested this!! 🫶​

If Sebastian Sallow could curse Garreth Weasley and get away with it, he would.

Unfortunately, after an incident involving Prewett and some misplaced toads, he's being monitored too closely by staff and students alike. Staff, so that it won't happen again, and students in the hope that they will see something and gain the prestige of being the ones to tell everyone else about it. It seems to Sebastian as if students of the red-headed Gryffindor variety are out to get him and make his life an absolute miserable living hell, and he is not happy about it.

That weaselly red-headed bastard had, once again, created a potion whose effects had gone disastrously wrong. This time, he had convinced her that it would alter her memory for 'only a day!', to give her an easier time retaining information so that exams would be easier for her. Their NEWTs are causing the seventh-year students to have periodic nervous breakdowns, and hers had apparently manifested in believing Weasley. Although Sebastian had, time and time again, tried convincing her that it didn't matter if sometimes they had to go over notes a few times before she truly understood them, she had always had a complex about it. If Sebastian had known that Weasley was going to rope her into being the test subject of his latest experiment, he would have tried to put a stop to it.

Sebastian surreptitiously looks over to the girl at his side.

Her head is bent down, dark hair shining in the late-afternoon sunlight as she quietly reads a book at his side. They're sitting on the shore of the Black Lake, it's one of those unusually warm spring days where one could fool themselves into believing it's already summer, and as he stares down at her Sebastian can't help but think of what they would normally be up to. Well, normally as of a few weeks ago.

Sebastian hasn't been able to touch her in two weeks, and he is going mad.

She drags a delicate finger across the words as she reads, her dark lashes fanning out across her cheeks as her eyes follow her finger, plump lips moving slightly as she occasionally whispers the extra-beautiful sounding words to herself.

Well, he could touch her, in theory, hypothetically, but she won't allow it.

She is hell-bent on keeping things as proper as possible between the two of them, and even holding eye contact with Sebastian for too long is seemingly enough to make her so hot and bothered that she can't even speak in his presence. (Sebastian once again curses Garreth.) He slowly, casually, brings his hand closer to where hers is, gently brushing his pinky against hers. Her whole body tenses, she immediately colors and glances up at him, and Sebastian's breath catches in his throat at the sight of the sun glinting in her eyes, the light giving them more depth.

(He can't help but think of a time a few weeks ago, where they were both fumbling with the buttons of each others' shirts, nervous and excited with the feelings that only new love can bring, her eyes glinting similarly and yet mischievous, as if daring him to continue his exploration of her -)

Carefully, she moves her hand away and drags her eyes back to her novel. He hears her murmur, and leans in closer to see what she's saying, the light scent of lavender floating up to him as his breath brushes past her ear: "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

After reading this, she looks at him again and smiles. "That's us, is it not?"

Sebastian gives her a small smile and leans back. Although she's made it abundantly clear that her feelings for him haven't changed at all, she's loathe to let them manifest physically. It would remind Sebastian of the beginning of their feelings for each other, their courtship, had she not acted the complete opposite before, seemingly not being able to get enough of him.

And now, thanks to Weasley, it seems as though their relationship has somehow regressed. Instead of altering her memory for a day, to help her with studying, her personality has somehow been altered.

She's still the same sweet girl he fell in love with. She's always quick to make him laugh with a quip in Transfiguration spoken under her breath, still exasperatingly stubborn about her strange opinions about, well, everything, still obsessed with the lemon tarts served during meals.

The night she had fallen victim to Garreth's experiment, Sebastian had sidled up to her after dinner, placing a hand on her waist and pulling her close so they could steal away and continue their previous night's activities. But, strangely enough, she had squealed and pushed him away, her face flushing a brilliant shade of pink as she looked at him, aghast. Sebastian, she had said, unable to make eye contact with him, what are you doing?

He had been utterly confused himself, somewhat embarrassed at the rejection, and when she continued on about marriage and betrothal and a proper courtship he had felt his whole body go hot and cold at the same time as his throat heated up. Although he can't possibly imagine spending his life with anyone else, although it's a given that she is always a part of any nebulous future he's envisioned for himself, the thought of a commitment of that magnitude is enough to make his heart drop into his stomach. He feels too young to propose, and yet he knows it will happen.

Eventually. Just not now.

He hears a snicker come from behind them and he sighs in resignation. Ominis and Anne have been acting as chaperones during their time spent together, and the two of them find their friend's new-found propriety endlessly hilarious. He admits that he's found it funny, too, and when he's not so frustrated he loves teasing her. There's something so sweet about the way her cheeks flush, how she sputters in indignation when he insinuates anything - Sebastian has to wonder how Garreth's potion has made her interpret their previous intimacies.

She's back to reading silently and Sebastian settles in for another afternoon of hushed whispers, laughter, reading, and decidedly no touching.

She smiles dreamily at her reflection in the mirror as she and Anne get ready for bed that evening. The soft green light filtering through the windows of their dorm room reminds her of the light that had filtered through the leaves that afternoon as she sat at Sebastian's side. "He was so handsome today, wasn't he?"

"You wouldn't be saying that if you'd had to look at his ugly face your whole life," grumbles Anne, finishing her braid with a neat ribbon at the end before turning to her friend. She doesn't hear a word Anne says, instead choosing to stare carefully at her reflection, blushing over the remembrance of Sebastian these last few weeks. The time spent with him has been nothing short of exquisite, and she can feel herself falling more and more in love with him - every stolen glance, the brushing of fingers as they read the same page in a book, the feeling of him leaning in close over her shoulder, his breath tickling the top of her ear and - "Anyways," says Anne, a little more forcefully, snapping her fingers in front of the mirror, "when are you going to let him hold your hand? Might I remind you of what I've caught the two of you doing before? The sight made me want to rip out my eyeballs and feed them to a venomous tentacula and -"

She flushes and looks over at Anne, appalled. How could she joke about something that must have been confessed by accident?

"Anne!" she hisses, looking around frantically to make sure nobody has entered their dorm, "stop being so improper."

The truth is, she doesn't know how much truth is behind Anne's teasing. Her memories from before she took that fated potion from Garreth are cloudy at best, and she prefers to think of them as dreams she's been having lately. Terribly indecent dreams where the object of her every waking thought is doing things to her she never thought possible.

In a moment of weakness she must have confessed something to Anne.

Turning back to her reflection in the mirror: grabbing her hairbrush: trying to tame her unruly curls: steadfastly ignoring Anne pretending to gag behind her. She is over their conversation, especially when Anne is so keen to bring up things she would rather forget. (At least, that's what she tells herself. She gets horribly confused and flustered whenever she thinks of Sebastian in that way.)

But maybe: "I will allow him to hold my hand tomorrow," she says with a sniff, turning towards Anne. Her eyes narrow as she sees her friend stifle a smile before quickly turning towards her bed.

She finds it difficult to fall asleep that night, between blissful remembrances of the dreams she's been trying to forget and the beating of her heart as she thinks about a future with Sebastian and letting him finally hold her hand.

He slips a note to her during Charms.

Dust particles are swirling in the air, Professor Ronan is unusually dull, and the hot summer sun streaming through the windows is just another reminder that they are almost free. Almost done with Hogwarts, almost ready to start the next chapter of their lives and become who they were always meant to be. She can't deny that she's been terribly worried about what's to come - she still is unsure what she wants to do after graduation, and feels her stomach drop whenever she hears the others talk excitedly about the opportunities they've lined up; the only constant in her life is the boy at her side who has been unusually patient with her.

And yet he still hasn't made it clear to her that she is as important to him as he is her. Yes, he is carrying her bag from class to class, reading with her every nice afternoon by the Black Lake, showing her he cares with every gesture, but still:...she can't be sure of how he feels. What if it is all perfunctory? She doesn't want to be forgotten. She loves the little routines they've created for themselves, loves sitting by his side during classes, passing notes; she's loved her short time at Hogwarts and doesn't want to end it yet.

The note is one of many they've been sending back and forth throughout the course of this terribly boring theory class, but this time is different.

His hand is resting on top of the bench between the two of them, note underneath, and were she not so in-tune to his infuriatingly intoxicating presence, she wouldn't have noticed it. He moves with the ease of someone who has been avoiding being caught for many years. And, in the hazy memories (or are they?) she has of her past with Sebastian, the notes the two of them have sent back and forth to each other have not always been so tame.

Surreptitiously, so as not to draw the attention of Professor Ronan (she does not want a scandal), the sound of her blood rushing in her ears as she thinks about what she's about to do, she slowly slides her hand toward Sebastian's - the one resting on top of his note. He starts moving his hand away - he's learned by now to not play any games - but she's faster.

It feels like all of her nerves are located in her fingers as she grazes the back of his freckled hand. She can feel him staring at her in surprise, but she doesn't dare look up at him.

She continues.

Her fingers flutter over his, hesitating, until she gets up her nerve and laces her fingers through his, pressing their palms together. She hears his breath hitch and warmth pools to her stomach at the sound as she finally glances at him. He's looking at her with the most dumbstruck expression on his face and...and her own must mirror his.

She flushes and looks away, but doesn't remove her hand - all she can think about is the feeling of her heartbeat thrumming through her body (can he feel its nervous flutter through her fingertips?), how right the contact feels, and how has she not done this before? But, the nerves she feels are so intense and overwhelming and she doesn't concentrate on Professor Ronan's words for the rest of the lesson.

Sebastian sits, flushed, notes forgotten - even as he leans into the palm of his other hand, trying to look anywhere but at her, she can feel the intensity of his gaze every time his eyes swipe over to her and it's unbearable.

But the thought of letting go of him is even worse.

The morning of the penultimate Saturday before their N.E.W.T.s has Sebastian understandably nervous. He's risen early even for himself - 1 hour and 38 minutes early, to be exact - unable to sleep with everything racing through his mind (equations, charms, precise wand movements, and her) - and has already written down his plan in tiny, neat handwriting, gotten dressed, and has had ample time to worry himself to an early grave.

Ominis has listened to Sebastian for the better part of an hour as he paces back and forth across their dorm, probably creating a tiny, worn-down path in the rugs with his persistence. Sebastian's sure his friend is tuning his ramblings out by now, but he can't help it.

Everything needs to turn out perfectly, and, although he knows that he tends to simultaneously overthink and ruin everything he attempts, this time he cannot. He's been practicing this speech over and over in his mind for days now, had started composing the beginning phrases in his mind weeks, maybe even years ago - maybe since she knocked him to the ground in their first duel at Crossed Wands and taken his breath away.

Of course, back then he hadn't quite realized what was going on - or that it would shape the rest of his life.

He had just known that he wanted to keep her close, by any means possible, whatever that might entail. And with all they've been through together: turning to each other for comfort and understanding after everything that happened their fifth year, the hushed confessions of love that came eventually, their first awkward, lovely kiss and everything that followed - even all of their little squabbles and misunderstandings have brought them closer - Sebastian knows now with certainty that she will be in his life forever and he's been a fool to be so scared of what's to come.

"Did you hear me?"

Ominis shifts in his seat and huffs. "I stopped listening the second I heard of your plan and I've been mentally reciting the uses of flobberworm mucous since then. It's about time, you know. I don't know what's taken you so long."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Now," Ominis gets to his feet and stops Sebastian from his pacing, clasping his hand. "You know what you need to do, and we'll be waiting to congratulate you when it's all said and done. Maybe we can all go out for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade later on."

(Little did Sebastian know, that would decidedly not happen.)

He nods, anxious despite his friend's support, and heads towards the door. He glances one last time at Ominis before leaving, almost reassured by the sight of him sitting at his desk, back straight, as his fingers slide over the pages of his book. Today marks the beginning of many changes that are about to come to Sebastian Sallow's life, but he can't deny it's comforting to see that some things are still the same.

Step One: Bribe the House-Elves

Sebastian steals into the Kitchens after tickling the pear in the painting guarding its entrance, and is immediately surrounded by a sea of bobbing heads at roughly the height of his waist, huge eyes blinking up at him. He looks beyond them; the whole kitchen is bustling and swarming with house-elves running around with purpose, bowls and whisks and bags of flour and sugar in their tiny hands, not wasting a single move as they prepare breakfast for all of the students.

"What does the young man need?" squeaks a house-elf with particularly hairy ears, grabbing him by the elbow.

In the end, Sebastian leaves the kitchens with more than he had bargained for, no bribes necessary.

He curses himself for never taking advantage of the kitchens before his last week of his final year of school, stuffing leftover pastries in his pockets after meals like a fool, when he could have done this all along. Well, either way, he now has plenty of baguettes - twenty-five to be exact - slung in a bag over his shoulder as he goes to greet the object of his affection. He checks his watch - shit - how is he five minutes late? - and he picks up the pace to the Clock Tower Courtyard, patting his breast-pocket to make sure that the tiny ring embossed with garnets is still in its place.

Step Two: Meet her in the courtyard at 8.00 am sharp (having previously sent her an owl invitation the week before to make sure she wouldn't make any other plans) (ignoring the fact that she is normally sleeping at this time on a Saturday morning)

Sebastian skids to a halt as he reaches the courtyard, looking around for her tell-tale wild curls, and doesn't see her yet. He's only seven minutes late - that's not enough for her to stop waiting is it? - and yet, at her absence, he begins to despair that he's ruined everything. Catastrophically ruined things like the huge, bumbling, idiot he is, and what's he going to do with all of these baguettes now? Eat them? Oh, Merlin, maybe he needs to head back to the Kitchens and get some butter, jam, brie, marmalade -

"Sorry I'm late." A breathless voice interrupts his spiral. His head snaps over to where he's heard her voice and the bubble of his despair bursts, but his nerves are still setting his body on fire. She is absolutely breathtaking, the golden light of the early morning sun glinting in her hair, dancing down the slope of her nose and lighting up her eyes in the way that makes them golden-tinged and deep and beautiful.

Step Two-and-a-Half (improvised): Remember how to breathe

Taking in a few deep breaths really does help ground him, although he can't really tear his eyes away from her face, nor can he forget why he's asked her to meet up with him.

Step Three: Escort her down to the Black Lake, where Anne has (hopefully, she was bribed to help out otherwise the fact that she had a dream about Leander will be accidentally told to Sacharissa) left a basket

As they walk down to the Black Lake, Sebastian can tell she's mystified. Their usual chaperones - Anne and Ominis - are absent, and it's just the two of them. They haven't been alone together since the night before she took Garreth's potion and became incomprehensibly proper.

He swallows nervously and glances over to her. She's been chattering to fill up the silence: "...of course, I told Imelda she was daft if she didn't understand how ridiculous it was..."

And, just at the sound of her sweet voice, he feels little bubbles of happiness fill his chest as if he's just drunk a bottle of pumpkin fizz. He can't help it - he reaches over and laces his fingers through hers. She stops speaking abruptly and flushes; birdsong fills the absence of her voice and her eyes flicker to the bag he has hoisted over his shoulder. "By the way, what are you keeping in there?"

Sebastian just gives her a crooked smile he knows will fluster her more, squeezes her hand, and is grateful she's only noticed the huge bag stuffed with baguettes and not the slight bulge in the pocket of his waistcoat. His heart is fit to burst out of his chest as he thinks of what's to come, but focusing on ways to make her splutter in indignation and step four of his plan is helping him to ground himself.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Slowly, he brings her hand up to his mouth and turns it at the last minute, pressing a kiss to her inner wrist. All of a sudden the atmosphere has changed: her breath falters at the contact, her eyes are wide and unblinking as she stares up at him and the expression on her face is enough to obliterate any thoughts from Sebastian's own mind; quite dangerous, really. His earnestness turns into a smirk and he brings his mouth to the palm of her hand, brushing his lips over it. He knows he's pushing things too far and -

"Sebastian!" she squeals, ripping her hand out of his, and Sebastian takes the opportunity to run ahead, "Wait for me!" - laughing as he leads her on an overgrown path towards their destination. He turns to look back at her, face flushed, a huge smile taking over her face, nose crinkling as she laughs, hair and robes flowing behind her as she tries to keep up with him. How has he gotten so lucky as to have her in his life?

He knows that he hasn't always been easy to get along with. Their fifth year, he had made things impossibly difficult for her, for everyone, and yet she had always stayed by his side. Trusting that he would come to his senses and somehow, with her help, he has.

Even with his nerves, he's never felt more sure of anything in his life than what he has planned now.

Sebastian Sallow is a quite perplexing. That's what she thinks, anyways, as she stares down at his broad back. He's bent over a picnic basket that's sitting in a clearing by the shore of the lake. She's never seen this part of the Grounds before and takes some time to look around while Sebastian finishes whatever he's doing.

He couldn't have picked a more beautiful day to sequester her away. Maybe fate has conspired to make it one she will remember for the rest of her life. It's one of those days when nature seems to be singing: the plants vibrantly green and dappled early sunlight filtering through the leaves, birds flitting from branch to branch above them, chattering and chirping to one another. And the lake, oh, the lake is beautiful. Still and unmoving, its water a deep green; she thinks once again (as she has been all of these last days at Hogwarts) how much she loves this, and how much she will miss it.

Sebastian Sallow is also infuriating.

He still hasn't told her why he has brought her all the way here, with a satchel stuffed with bread, making her wake up so early to meet up with him. 'It is of tantamount importance that you are available...' he had written in the note left for her a week ago, but the urgency was unnecessary. Even when she has no idea what he's planned, she can't help but say yes, can't help but want to be close to him always.

The feeling of his breath brushing against the palm of her hand is still burning bright-hot and she is scared to move her fingers lest it go away. Ever since she laced her fingers through his in Charms class two weeks ago, he's been finding excuses to try and get closer to her and she's simultaneously excited and scared every time they touch. This is the first time they've been alone together without her protection - Anne and Ominis - she's unsure if she trusts herself or Sebastian less, but she has to be free of them eventually.

"Well," he says, breaking her out of her reverie, "I think it's all in order." He leans back on his haunches and looks up at her, giving her the small smile that always makes her stomach flutter.

"But what is this all for?"

She gestures at the blanket he's spread out between them, at the baguettes he's pulling out of his bag, and huffs in frustration. She does not like being kept in the dark, and the expectations she had been building in her mind ever since she got his letter were not matching up to whatever's going on.

"We're going to feed the giant squid, silly." Sebastian stands up suddenly, holding one of the baguettes, and launches it into the lake. It floats there for a minute - tiny waves rippling across the smooth water from the impact - and then, as it slowly starts sinking, a huge tentacle shoots out of the water and grabs it, pulling it underneath.

She laughs in delight as she sees more tentacles come up to the surface of the water, searching for more bread. For as much disgust as she had for it her first year at Hogwarts, she's come to grow fond of the giant squid, even sometimes daring to tickle its tentacles with Imelda on sunny afternoons when they need a break from studying.

Now, Sebastian's handing a baguette to her, his fingers brushing against hers and she shivers at the contact, her eyes flicking up to his, uncertain. He doesn't pull away; instead wrapping sure fingers around hers as he guides her to the shore. Her back is flush against his chest as he guides her to throw the baguette, but she doesn't even see it hit the water. The feeling and heat of his body pressed against hers is all-encompassing and she turns around slowly - so slowly - and...

Sebastian brings his fingers up to caress the line of her jaw, then brush over her lips, her cheekbone, tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, tug the hair at her scalp and pull her face closer to his. Her eyes flutter closed as his breath warms her lips - is this really, finally happening? - and the first hesitant, sweet brush of his lips against hers is almost enough to cause her to faint. If his other arm wasn't wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer to him, she's positive she would have fallen as her knees threaten to buckle. Hesitant hands come up to grab the front of Sebastian's robes as their kiss deepens and yet before she knows it - before she wants it to end - Sebastian is pulling away from her with a sheepish smile, pressing his forehead against hers and breathing heavily.

"That was..."

But then -

She feels something slimy snake itself around her ankle, wrapping around before she's pulled backwards into the water with a shriek. She sees Sebastian's shocked face, arms reaching out hands scrabbling as he tries to grab her before she can be pulled into the water, but it's futile.

She's really not dragged that far into the water.

Once the squid realizes she has no more bread on her person, it retreats back to the deeper water it came from.

Maybe she wasn't pulled very far into the lake, but it's still enough to have all of her clothes completely and utterly drenched and she is mortified. As she sputters and staggers to her feet, pushing her heavy, wet hair out of her face, she sees Sebastian splashing towards her.

His face is absolutely flabbergasted and concerned for her and full of love and she forgets all of her annoyance at being wet as she sees him make his way to where she is. "Are you -?"

Sebastian is cut off as she throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers as she peppers it with kisses. He almost loses his balance, but quickly recovers and gathers her in his arms, easily returning her vigor. She can't get enough of him; she knows she's being greedy as she deepens their kiss, but she feels as if she's woken from a deep slumber and is alive again.

Her whole body is so, so sensitive: his fingertips feel electric as they dance across her back, her waist, as if they're drawing all of her nerves to wherever they touch. Maybe it's the sensation of her wet clothes dragging across her delicate skin, maybe it's the months of pent-up frustration with herself for not being able to touch him.

He pulls away slightly, laughing, as he takes in her appearance. She must look like a drowned kneazle, hair-wild-face-flushed-eyes-gleaming, and yet there is nothing but love in his eyes when Sebastian looks at her. He grabs her hand and leads her to the shore, where they've left the picnic basket. They're both laughing as they splash through the water, fingers intertwined.

She sits down and begins to unlace her wet boots, peel off her stockings, Sebastian following suit, and once she plops the wet boots down next to her she huffs and looks at him fondly. "Well, was that part of your plan?"

Sebastian shakes his head and he looks so dejected that she simply has to lean over and kiss him. She pulls away slightly, lips brushing against his as she smiles and whispers, "I don't care." The feeling of his breath against her lips is too intoxicating and she simply has to close the minuscule distance between them again. Sebastian seemingly can't help himself either, because in no time his hand comes up to caress her face, her jaw, buries itself in the thick hair at the nape of her neck, and he's deepening the kiss.

She's gasping into his mouth, needing more, remembering the last time they kissed all those months ago - how has it been months? - and she breaks away briefly, staring into his eyes. His pupils are dilated, hers must match - "Sebastian?" she whispers against his lips, "What happened?"

He brings his hand back to her face, eyes searching hers as he looks for some answer she doesn't know if she can provide. "I..." he shakes his head slightly, smiling, "it's not important." As they kiss again, she sighs happily into his mouth - she missed this. Her hands come up to grasp at the back of his head, tugging him, pulling him closer to her, and she deepens the kiss.

She feels her stomach clench in an unfamiliar way as Sebastian gasps into her mouth - "Merlin, I've missed this, I didn't know..." - and she is certain that this will be a moment of her life she will always remember.

She will always remember how he - almost nervously, shy in a way she has never seen him before - brings her to the picnic blanket they'd abandoned. They will laugh as they try to peel her soaking wet clothes off, Sebastian's fingers fumbling as he works the buttons on her blouse; the first tentative brush of his lips against her bare collarbone will make her shiver with anticipation.

They will both be breathless between kisses, between exploring each others' bodies, between the gasps of devotion they breathe to each other. Every drag of Sebastian's fingers down her waist, her hips, will send jolts of pure magic through her body, how could anything feel so good? - and she will arch her back towards him, craving more.

His hands will be everywhere on her skin all at once, her mouth on his mouth, the feelings and sensations burning through her until there is only the two of them in that moment, their limbs tangled and their breathing synchronized as they move together.

It will be needy, and messy, and awkward, and full of laughter. When they join, it will feel like a finally.

And afterwards, when they are lying lazily-peacefully-quietly together, tracing fingers over still-sensitive skin, wrapped up in a haze of love and tangled limbs and feeling at peace, she will notice a bulge in the breast pocket of Sebastian's discarded waistcoat.

He will watch her reach over, curious, a small smile playing on his lips as she pulls out the tiny box. Her breath will catch in her throat and her fingers will be trembling as she tries to open it, before Sebastian takes over and opens it for her.

It won't be the perfect proposal he had planned, but it will be perfect in its own way and tears will be inexplicably falling down her face as she smiles and says 'yes' over and over until it loses meaning.

[luna-azzurra]

Write the Scene Like a Camera Lens Is Controlling It

Zoom in.

Zoom out.

What’s the most important detail in the moment? Is it the way their hands shake on the steering wheel? The single drop of sweat trailing down a temple? Or is it the massive wildfire on the horizon swallowing up the sky? Focus determines impact. If you describe everything equally, nothing stands out. Control where the reader’s eye goes.