#get to know my mc
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isabeauwolf · 9 months ago
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To all my self shippers and writers with ocs
I'm curious. What's one of your ocs or self inserts afraid of? And why?
My example: Mary is afraid of thunderstorms ⛈️⚡
With her heightened senses, the noise is too loud and makes her ears more sensitive
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anbaisai · 11 months ago
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Blep. (Sequel to the boop)
Or alternatively titled: Snake Jamil, but even larger noodle
The species that Jamil is based on here is called the Blood Python (special thanks to @kirexa for the information!), which can reach an average of 4-6 ft in length and up to 30 lbs in weight.
Bonus panel:
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yois2aki · 4 months ago
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you watched from across the room as caleb laughed, CALEB's eyes sparkling with amusement as he spoke to a girl from his class. her voice was high-pitched and bubbly, and she was leaning in just a little too close, making you feel an odd tightness in your chest. you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was hard to ignore the way they interacted—so carefree, so… effortless.
you found yourself shrinking back, feeling small and uncertain in the corner of the room. you had always known caleb was popular, had always been the center of attention wherever he went, but something about the way he was so engaged with her made you feel… invisible.
maybe it was the way she touched his arm when she laughed or the way she smiled at him, a look that made your heart twist. you’d never seen that expression directed at you, not in that way. you couldn’t help but wonder if it was something that would eventually lead to more.
“maybe i’m just overthinking it,” you whispered to yourself, but the thoughts kept creeping back in. what if he liked her? what if he was just being nice to you because he felt obligated? your insecurities bubbled to the surface, a wave of doubt flooding your mind.
you tried to distract yourself, but your gaze kept flicking back to them. caleb was laughing again—genuinely, without a care in the world—and your heart sank lower.
you hadn’t noticed how much time had passed until you heard the door to the classroom swing open. caleb appeared at the threshold, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. he spotted you almost immediately, his purple eyes narrowing in amusement as he strolled over to your desk.
“what's up?” he asked, leaning down to rest his elbows on your desk. “you’re lookin' a little… off today. somethin' on your mind?” his voice was light, teasing, as if he could read your thoughts.
you avoided his gaze, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. “no, i’m fine.”
“really?” he leaned closer, and you could feel the heat of his presence as he playfully poked at your arm. “because you’ve been starin' at me all class like i’m about to jump off a cliff or something.”
your face flushed, but you didn’t say anything. should you tell him? you weren’t sure how to put your feelings into words, especially when the doubts swirling in your mind felt so silly.
caleb raised an eyebrow, sensing your hesitation. “you know, i’m pretty good at readin' people. and you,” he grinned mischievously, “you’ve got a whole storm brewing in that head of yours.”
you tried to force a smile, but it came out shaky. “it’s nothing.”
caleb straightened up, studying you with that intense look he always had when he was being serious. “come on, don’t do this to me. talk to me.” he was so persistent, but there was an edge to his voice, one that made your heart beat faster.
“it’s just…” you hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. “i saw you with her, that new blonde girl from whatever class. and, i don’t know, i just… got a little worried.”
his brows furrowed, he paused for a moment only to let out a loud chuckle right after. “worried about what?”
“i don’t know, maybe that… you just looked so… comfortable with her.” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
a moment of silence made its way between you two, and when you looked up at his eyes, he had the boyish grin plastered on his face. “why are you looking at me like— you did that on purpose, didn't you?!”
you looked at him with a frustrated expression, like you had his scheme all figured out.
caleb blinked, stunned for a second, before his expression softened, and he spoke up with the most annoying voice he could. “what, are you… jealous?”
you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “no.” you mumbled, back to avoiding his gaze. embarrassment filled your being due to falling for such an obvious plan.
you knew, deep down, that he would never willingly flirt with another girl. it wasn't his nature. yet, it felt as though he had purposely noticed your gaze lingering on him, and in that moment, allowed the attention of a girl with clear intentions draw near.
the realization settled in your chest like a weight, and you wished, with all your heart, that you could just disappear into the ground and hide the embarrassing turmoil churning inside.
caleb let out another soft laugh, but it wasn’t mocking this time around. it was warm, affectionate, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “jealous? of her?” he asked, leaning down to look you in the eyes. “i was initially just messing with you, but you really think i’d choose someone else over my pipsqueak?”
you shrugged weakly, too afraid to look up at him.
“are you out of your mind?” he teased, shaking his head with a playful smirk. “do you really think i’m that dumb? you’re the one who has my attention, you know that, right?”
you finally dared to look up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. he paused for a moment before adding, “i get that you’re insecure sometimes, but you have to know that no one can make me feel the way you do. i don’t even like her like that. she’s just a classmate. and if i’m being honest, i didn’t even realize i was making you feel like this.”
you felt your heart skip a beat at his words, his voice lowering into something much softer. “i told you i'm not getting a girlfriend anytime soon. and i keep my promises. always.”
the weight on your chest began to lift, your heartbeat slowing as you let out a shaky laugh. “you’re sure?”
caleb grinned, his usual confidence radiating in his posture as he stood up straight, running a hand through his hair. “pipsqueak, if you can’t tell by now, then i don’t know what to tell you.”
he chuckled and winked, his tone full of playful teasing. “now stop worrying about some random girl. you’re the only one i want. always have been. always will be.”
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth fill your chest as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “there’s no need to compete with anyone. it’s always been you.”
“i guess i needed to hear that,” you admitted, letting out a sigh of relief. “thanks, caleb.”
“anytime,” he said, his smile softening. “now, how about we get out of here and grab some food? i think you owe me for doubtin' me.”
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myokk · 8 months ago
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clumsy
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pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
word count: 9,1k
summary: sebastian is clumsy
cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)
a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)
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The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.
Quite literally.
Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.
It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.
It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -
Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.
Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -
He freezes.
What has he done?
He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?
"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"
Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.
Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.
The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.
Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.
"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"
Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.
His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.
"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.
Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?
"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."
And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.
Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.
He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.
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She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.
He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.
Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -
"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"
She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?
Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.
"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."
He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.
(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)
Oh, fine.
"Do you want to start, or should I?"
These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?
"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."
Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.
"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"
She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?
Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.
Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -
"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."
She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.
"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.
But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.
"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."
That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.
She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -
She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.
He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...
They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.
She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -
They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.
"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"
The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -
"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"
She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.
The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.
Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.
The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.
"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."
He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"
The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"
"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."
As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...
What had gotten into her? What is she doing?
He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.
"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.
She has a lot of thinking to do.
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Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):
Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;
Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and
Figure out what the hell is going on between us
Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.
It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.
Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.
The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.
Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.
He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.
He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.
He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.
When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.
"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.
She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.
They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.
Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.
"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."
Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.
In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."
She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.
Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -
Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.
"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.
Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.
She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -
Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.
Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.
Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.
"Sebastian, I..."
She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"
She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."
"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."
Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -
He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.
Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.
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Misery.
Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.
She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?
There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.
Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...
He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -
Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.
"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.
"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."
Imelda does not stop.
Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.
Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.
"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."
"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."
"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."
Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.
They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.
She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.
She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.
And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.
Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.
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Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.
Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.
"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."
And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.
A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?
Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.
He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.
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Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.
Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.
She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -
"Hello."
She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.
Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.
But what if he rejects her?
Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?
Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.
They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.
"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.
  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.
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redcallisto · 1 year ago
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Kieran my baby boy. someone take him to a therapist please
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mellosdrawings · 11 months ago
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It's "bully Azul" time !!
(Og post here)
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choccy-milky · 10 months ago
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part 3 to my modern AU 💞🍺 (part 1 / part 2)
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anto-pops · 21 days ago
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Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: “Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.” 
Alternatively summarized as you try getting Sebastian's undivided attention by making him jealous, but he doesn't take too kindly to your methods...
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, Auror!Sebastian Sallow, Unspeakable!MC, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism
Ahem... whatever this is, it's up on Ao3
There was no mistaking the murderous glint in Sebastian’s eyes as he dragged you through the hallway towards his office. Some Ministry workers stared, their eyes wide with alarm as the Auror manhandled you along behind him. Others whispered, because it wasn’t everyday that an Unspeakable such as yourself found themselves being bullied so brazenly. Everyone could see clear as day that something was going on between the two of you. 
But no one dared to move. No one wanted to risk piercing the suffocating silence that emanated from Sebastian. His pounding footsteps were louder than any verbal form of fury, anyway. 
It didn’t surprise you that he was acting like this. What he had seen you and your colleague discussing was important; top secret, official Ministry business that you were sworn to keep secret. Any information pertaining to the Veil in the Death Chamber was strictly prohibited from being reiterated outside of the Department of Mysteries. So when your fiancé had walked into the main hall of your workplace and spotted you and a coworker hunched over a table together– shoulder to shoulder and murmuring in low voices– of course his first reaction had been to get territorial. 
This was Sebastian Sallow, after all. He had never been the sharing sort, especially not when it came to you.  
You and your colleague clamming up upon his arrival probably hadn’t helped you look any less guilty, but that was what you’d been counting on. Besides, what choice did you have? The topic of discussion was classified. Your fiancé of six months knew that you weren’t at liberty to discuss your work– not like he could as an Auror. 
Still, that hadn’t stopped him from wordlessly yanking you away from your poor, terrified associate. Sebastian hadn’t made a noise the entire time he hauled you behind him through the Ministry towards the Auror offices. 
The door plaque with his name on it glinted mockingly as the man shoved it open, pulling you inside quickly before shutting it with a resounding boom. Before you could so much as blink, Sebastian had you shoved against his desk, pulling a gasp from your throat and sending a litany of parchment and other trinkets clattering to the ground. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess. 
No, he was too busy glaring at you as he peeled his coat from his shoulders. The attire was thrown harshly atop a small, cushiony chair in the corner of the room as if it had offended him somehow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were too busy analyzing the fire blazing in his dark, penetrating eyes. You had lit it, and you were now faced with taking the brunt of the heat. 
“What the hell was that?” Sebastian’s voice was gruff when he finally spoke, leaning forward to pin your hips to the desk with his own. “Since when did Unspeakables work so closely together with one another?”
“Sebastian, it was nothing. We were just discussing our findings–”
His face ducked lower so it was directly beside your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his fingers dug into the curve of your waist. “Does ‘discussing findings’ have to be done in another man’s lap, or did I miss that addendum in my letter of employment? You were practically inside of him.” 
You inhaled sharply when Sebastian’s blunt nails raked up your sides, pulling your tucked shirt out of your skirt. “It was just work. You know I can’t talk about it with you–” 
“Maybe you should,” he growled, pulling back to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Maybe I need to know what warrants such familiarity amongst Unspeakables. Did you want me to catch you like that? Were you secretly hoping that I would walk in and find you cozying up to some random man that wasn’t me?”
“No! Of course not– you’re blowing this out of proportion!” 
“Am I?” He leaned down again, brushing his lips against your jaw before his mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “I’m your fiancé. I’m the one you said yes to when I asked you to marry me. I’m the only man you should ever let get that close to you. Or do you not agree?” 
“Of course I agree, but I can’t help what happens when I’m at work–” 
Your excuses were silenced by Sebastian’s teeth suddenly clamping down on your earlobe, a startled hiss bursting from you before you could stop it. “Liar,” he whispered. “There’s this thing called professionalism. You could tell your colleague,” he spat the word venomously, his grip on your waist tightening, “that it’s inappropriate to discuss your findings so close together. You could remind the oaf that you’re engaged– that he doesn’t stand a chance with you, and that he should quit while he’s ahead.” 
Sebastian shifted his hips back and gave himself space to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, his hands moving startlingly fast over the clasps. You hardly had the time nor the ability to stop him– not with how turned on you found yourself becoming. Some might say the man you were in love with was overbearing and possessive, and they would be right… but those facets of Sebastian’s character were parts of him that you relished in. 
Which was exactly why you had made sure to set the scene he had walked in on perfectly. 
You’d known your fiancé was coming to pick you up for your lunch break since he had been so busy with work recently. He had promised you last night that he would make his recent absence up to you at the first opportunity, but a lunch date wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. You had been hoping for this exact scenario the moment the two of you made it home in the evening. 
Sebastian forgoing waiting and dragging you to his office, though? That hadn’t been expected. He wasn’t even going to bother with waiting to stake his claim on you. 
And despite your nosy, fellow employees lurking around outside the door, you liked that he wasn’t waiting. A lot. 
You glanced down at your chest once Sebastian had yanked your blouse over your shoulders, discarding the attire over his shoulder roughly. He ripped your brassiere away next, instantly kneading one of your breasts in his large hand with dizzying possession. “Look at me,” he hissed, the authority in his voice compelling you to listen. Through your lashes, you could see the heady flush creeping across his cheeks as he stared down at you, his ruddy skin a byproduct of lust and rage. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.” 
You didn’t hesitate for a second before whispering, “You, Sebastian…” 
Your voice trembled meekly, your eyes fixed on his as you tried to play innocent in the face of his wrath. But he saw right through your ruse– he always did. 
“Tell me the truth, darling.” Sebastian demanded, his tone smokey and icy all at once. “You knew what you were doing back there, didn’t you?” 
That devilish smirk reserved solely for you appeared on his face– the one that promised ruin and domination. He knew you had planned for this. He was well aware that you had been upset with him for prioritizing work for the last two weeks. You had told him as much time and time again, but there was little either one of you could do about it. The Ministry demanded much from its two prize workers; when duty called, you both answered at the drop of a hat. It was an unfortunate side-effect of being the Hero of Hogwarts and the youngest Auror to ever be assigned his own team. 
Sebastian knew you as well as you knew him. He could read you like a book– was intimately familiar with the way your brain worked. Your shoddy attempt at appearing demure wouldn’t work on him. 
His impatience was made palpable when he pinched the peak of your breast between his index finger and thumb, wringing a whine from your throat that you struggled to keep quiet. “Y-Yes,” you finally answered, your voice catching. “Yes, I knew what I was doing.” 
“You like to play dangerous games, darling. Is this what you wanted? You wanted me pissed enough to ruin you here with all these people around?” 
No. You had hoped for your bold actions to result in Sebastian stewing in jealousy for the entire day, then driving him to ignore his office at home to give you some attention. The plan had been for this exact situation to transpire in the comfort of your own house. Not here. Not while the two of you were at work. “Not… exactly…” you croaked. 
He chuckled darkly, releasing your breast and your waist to free his cock from the confines of his trousers. The full length of him was already at play– the tip leaking violently and bulging veins conveying his excitement well enough. He reached up to shove at your shoulder, guiding you back against the desk quickly and mercilessly, “Yeah, I’m sure you thought you had it all figured out, huh? Too bad I can guess every move of yours before you make it.” 
His cock glistened in the office light as he gathered the fabric of your skirt into a messy heap below your navel, holding it there as he slapped his length against your wet folds. “So don’t argue with me when I give you exactly what you wanted, darling.” 
The blunt head pressed against your dripping entrance, the pressure driving your heart into your throat as you stared up at Sebastian with wide eyes. He flashed you another sinful smirk before shifting forward, driving the entirety of his length inside of you in one fluid motion. 
You gasped– no, cried his name as he breached you. It was so sudden. So deep, so thick, so overwhelming, that your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you struggled to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The sound of your voice would likely carry. The people milling about outside of Sebastian’s office could probably hear you, and maybe some of them were even listening in considering the spectacle they had witnessed leading up to this moment. 
But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you open after two long weeks of forced celibacy, and you loved it. 
Your walls fluttered and clamped down on him, wringing a groan from Sebatian’s throat that intermingled with your panted breathing. “So tight…” he groaned, hunching over you as he planted both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You like this, don’t you, love? Making me watch you fawn over some other bloke just so you could end up under me, stuffed full of my cock?” 
Your eyes were half-lidded when you met his unwavering stare, your lips parted around shaky exhales and soft mewls. Then you nodded, no longer interested in trying to uphold your innocent facade. “Yes…” 
Sebastian’s eyes flashed, and then he was straightening his spine so he could lend his full strength to his movements. The first jerk of his hips had his cock punching into you so roughly that you cried out again, and you felt his nails bite into your skin in response to the sound. “No one could ever have you like this,” he grunted in-between thrusts, raking his fingers down your sides and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. “No one could ever fuck you the way I do. Isn’t that right? Tell me.” 
“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the desk when you felt him plant his thumb against your clit, circling the nub rapidly as he pounded into you. “Only you– there’s only you, Sebastian.” 
“Damn right there’s only me,” he echoed wickedly, his lust-dark eyes narrowing at you as he watched you writhe around atop the wood. Pleased with your confession, he angled his hips just so, aiming for the area inside of you that he never failed to find with stunning proficiency. It didn’t take long– barely half a second– and then your body began to tremble in response to his assault on that magic spot. The head of his cock kissed against it over and over, and coupled with his unrelenting attention on your bundle of nerves, you felt tension take root deep in your gut. “You’re mine, darling. There’s a band on your finger that proves it.” 
Your moans turned high-pitched, and your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you desperately tried to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian– fuck– I can’t–”
The lone hand on your waist shifted so it was splayed across your lower stomach. Sebastian grinned maniacally as he applied a careful amount of pressure there, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock as he hammered into your cunt with feral intention. It knocked the air clean from your lungs– your breathless gasps of his name suddenly quiet enough that you knew he was the only one who could hear them. 
“Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.” 
Fuck– it was too much. His dirty, shameless talking, the brutal thrusts against the deepest parts of you, his thumb moving ceaselessly over your clit. It was overwhelming– all of it threatening to send you careening over the edge even though you didn’t want a second of the euphoria to end. 
Sebastian’s nails dug into your skin– right above where he knew your womb was– branding you with crescent shaped imprints that made your stomach lurch with arousal. You weren’t walking out of here without marks, that was for certain. Markings from the man you were set to marry would litter your flesh for days to come, and that thought made the tension in your gut amplify tenfold. 
“S-Sebastian,” you whimpered, lifting a shaky hand to grasp the one he had splayed against your stomach. “I– I love you, I’m sorry– I love you–” 
He groaned when your walls fluttered around his cock. It was as though your body was trying to swallow him deeper– sucking him in further as you neared your blissful precipice. “You can’t do that anymore, darling,” he leaned down, capturing your lips with his briefly before biting down on your bottom lip. “No more taunting me like that. No more.” 
You nodded helplessly beneath him as he rammed his hips into you for emphasis, tears of pent-up pleasure quickly welling in your eyes. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t– please, I’m so close–”
Sebastian’s thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling the nub too fast and too firmly for you to think straight. Your legs kicked out on either side of him at the overstimulation, your voice falling off into a sharp, strung out sob as you continued to plead brainlessly. 
“Please, Gods, please–” 
His lips were directly against your ear when he growled, “Go on, love. Come for me. I want you drooling and crying– too full of me to even fucking walk.” 
Sebastian never relented as you crept closer to the brink. His thrusts turned brutish, faster, and more unforgiving as he furiously worked his thumb over your bundle of nerves. The animalistic grunts he let loose were laced with a tangible hunger that finally caused the knot in your stomach to snap. 
And it snapped hard. 
All at once, your body seized. Your back arched off the desk and pressed against his chest, a ragged moan ripping from your throat and echoing throughout the room so loudly that it left little room for interpretation to any listeners outside. Your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice– your cunt milking his length as though it never wanted to let him go. Your fluids soaked his trousers as your thighs trembled, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you and leaving you a boneless, twitching mass atop the desk. It was utter rapture. 
But Sebastian didn’t stop. 
“So fucking perfect,” he growled, his breath hot against your cheek before he stood straight again. “But I’m not done yet.” 
His ferocious pace never wavered as he resumed his earlier upright position; one hand on your stomach and the other maddeningly focused on your clit. Sebastian kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your climax while forcing your body into another, knocking the wind from you with such fervor that it bordered on cruel. Your hips twitched in a feeble attempt to escape the overstimulation, but the hand on your lower midriff kept you firmly in place. 
“S-Sebastian, wait,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the persisting pleasure he bestowed upon you. “I-It’s too much–” 
“You’ll be fine. You wanted this, remember?” He slammed into you again, laughing breathily when you dug your nails into the top of his hand. “I’m just giving you what you indirectly asked for, darling.” 
Merlin– you had bitten off way more than you could chew. 
You sobbed, the sound laced with both pain and pleasure as your body went limp beneath him. Overly sensitive. Helpless. He was going to make you regret goading him into such a frenzy. 
The sordid sound of Sebastian’s hips slapping against your wet cunt was sloppy. His finger moved in every direction over your clit, the slickness covering every inch of your lower half making the pad of his thumb slide all too easily around the nub. Every time he made direct contact with it, you jolted. Senseless noises fell from your lips as you were brought to orgasm once again, more evidence of your arousal gushing around Sebastian’s cock and staining his clothes, but he hardly paid it any mind. 
Evidently he had more pressing matters to focus on.
His head tipped forward, a guttural moan tearing from his throat and reverberating through you as he endured your walls tightening around him. It was like nothing could throw him off, his tempo withstanding the feeling of your body sucking him in greedily, the force of his thrusts causing your shoulder blades to scrape against the wood of the desk. Mussed strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he looked back at you, his pupils blown wide, and his lips parted around a telling gasp of your name. 
After what seemed like an eternity of brutal overstimulation, Sebastian slammed home deep before finally stilling. He buried himself in your cunt all the way to the hilt as he panted hard, pressing down against your stomach with enough force that you groaned– and you were certain he could feel himself emptying his load inside of you. At least, you certainly could. The hot spurts of his seed scorched you all the way to your core before it started to seep out and drip onto the floor. The sound of it escaping your ravaged center prompted Sebastian to grind against you– trapping his oozing spend in your body with his own. 
How the hell were you supposed to go back to work after this? 
The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your cheekbone pulled your heavy eyelids apart, and you were met with your fiancé drinking in the sight of your fucked-out expression with sinful male satisfaction etched across his face. His gaze flicked down towards your left hand, and he gingerly lifted it towards his lips to kiss the diamond studded gold band around your ring finger. All you could bring yourself to do was hum questioningly, your mind still too frazzled to form a proper sentence. 
“I think we need to recall the wedding invitations we sent out…” 
That snapped you out of your post-coital stupor quicker than a lightning strike. What did he mean, recall? 
Surely he wasn’t implying he wanted to cancel it. 
Had you fucked up worse than you’d imagined by taunting him? Was he calling off the wedding? Had your selfish urge to get his attention ruined your future with him before it had even started? Your eyes went wider than saucers, and your voice was tight when you croaked, “What? Why?” 
Sebastian’s grin was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. He ground his still-solid cock into you again to wring a strangled gasp from you, the squelching sound making you flush from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. “Because I don’t think I want to wait until spring anymore. The sooner I can make you mine, the sooner I can spend all of my spare time trying to fuck a baby into you. That is, if I haven’t already… that would really keep other men away, wouldn’t it?” 
You glanced down to where his pulsing length was still sheathed in your cunt– its unwavering hardness a testament to how Sebastian was nowhere near finished with you. He pulled back before ramming his hips against you again, forcing a startled, pleasure-induced yelp from your throat. When you looked back up at him, you found that the fire in his eyes from earlier was burning brighter than ever, inextinguishable in its intensity. 
Oh, gods. You’d really done it now. 
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tartppola · 2 years ago
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The conversation at Topsy-Turvy Square, gone differently
dialogue written by the talented @zgvlt
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om340700 · 4 months ago
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bunch of stuff from insta doodle reqs (one hundred follows on me doodle place... crazy)
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(honest to god i hope i didnt miss any deets LOL)
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thursdaymoonrise11 · 5 months ago
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TLDR: Clora and Phoebe meet (à la spiderman meme) and ignore Sebastian(s) ✨
When universes collide, the sisterhood of introverted, teacher's pet, Seb girlie MCs must assemble 🫡
I just love Clora, you and your art Choccy so this is my offering 🥹 your account was one of the first I followed when I decided to join the hogwarts legacy online world and YOU'RE ALWAYS SO LOVELY AND SO TALENTED 💖💖 I KNOW Phoebe would be obsessed with Clora so I was inspired to do this while stalking your creations okay i hope u like it 👉👈
Clora Clemons: @choccy-milky ✨
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chaos-cubed · 25 days ago
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Fanart for “Send it Through the Coral Mail” by brisketbiscuits on ao3! Definitely give it a read if you haven’t already, it’s really good :3
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disaster-magician · 3 months ago
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When ur neighbor will reply to ur other neighbor but not u 😔
(Fake screenshots! These are fan made based on incorrect quotes and not in the game)
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phreia · 9 months ago
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BY @featheredcrowbones !!! THEY'RE SUPER COOL (they also drew this!)
worlds most tormented MC
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myokk · 2 months ago
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legilimency
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pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC
word count: 1,7k
summary: (His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)
or: The Gryffindor student has caught on that Ominis can read her thoughts and decides to get her revenge.
(rated M for some language)
tags: I headcanon Ominis is a natural legilimens (I go into what I believe this entails in more detail in my Ominis longfic), fluff, some mature language, but mostly this is silly :)
a/n: It's the one-year anniversary of the day rode the train to the mountains and wrote this up in one sitting. This is the first oneshot I ever wrote, and my first attempts at writing Ominis POV🫶 I hope you enjoy, and if you’re rereading THANK YOU♥️
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Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.
They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns' droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).
Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn't see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which...can't be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.
Especially now.
Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.
Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they're consuming him and he can't ignore them as much as he would like to.
Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone's minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.
But right now with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it's like she's screaming at him.
So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.
(His parents and Marvolo insist it's a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)
He is stuck listening to her.
It doesn't help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.
Until her.
He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and...
Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn't stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or... - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn't what he'd expected.
A pause: then: a confused voice: 'Ominis, I didn't say anything.'
His Gryffindor wasn't stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.
(His Gryffindor?)
She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still...
But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn't stand it.
Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can't ignore her.
She's pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns' voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she's actually writing, because he's positive it isn't notes.
Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about...whatever it is he's passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does...
Ominis is determined not to react. She's obviously trying to bait him. But...what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that's resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he's been quite successful.
She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.
She changes tactics.
Maybe she's just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.
I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -
He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she's so busy taking notes (who's he kidding) that she won't notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -
...the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I've been mooning over but I don't want them to...
His hand is in such a tight fist it's a wonder he's not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?
...his tongue was deep inside my cunt as I screamed his name...
He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He's sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that...she...his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She's now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.
...his cock deep inside of me as...wait...what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?...um... She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis's as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It's all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god...I...what's that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I'm officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?...his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can't stand this anymore and...
Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He's hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.
...does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I...
He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -
It's no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and...What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -
Did he hear me? I didn't actually think...oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?
Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.
He has never touched someone like this before.
Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he's not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It's impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it's just the two of them in that moment.
He leans forward.
"Ominis, I..." she whispers, stricken.
His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, "I heard everything."
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winterrbluess · 10 months ago
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JJK spoilers
This chapter....THIS chapter has me sobbing a bucket like Yuji, he is so precious. His growth has astonished me so much. His introspection and the ability to step in other's shoes and sympathise with them (even Sukuna) is his greatest strength. His whole fight was to bring Megumi back, to save one person atleast and now not only he grew out of his cog mentality but is leaving the choice in Megumi's hands that it's fine if he wants to give up. For the first time someone tells Megumi it's fine to give up and not wanting to fight anymore or get stronger or fulfill any space or role. Yuji giving Megumi the agency to deal with his loss and trauma, to choose for himself...grieve and just end it all. It's so tragic yet beautiful with how Yuji is always there for Megumi and vice versa. And Megumi's monologue about wanting to enjoy the domesticity of life..God it's heartbreaking how he just wanted to...exist, to live like a 16 year old, safe and surrounded by his loved ones without the burden of being strongest in future on his shoulder.
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This panel is so bittersweet...with it being directly parallel to Gojo one but with such stark contrast..Yuji is there for Megumi only..not an ally, not the strongest sorcerer of future but his friend.
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