#these are my only thoughts about the subject i spent the holidays working | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostoffuturespast · 9 months

Text

Works In Progress 2023: A Cyberpunk 2077 Year In Review

I thought for a hot minute about doing one of those snazzy templates that’s been going around, but editing photos just ain’t my MO and rather than going by month I picked 12 favs that I’ve posted in 2023. Some of them were popular, some of them weren't. Overall, I think I did pretty good for just doing vanilla photomode on console.

You might be wondering why there's a picture of a sticky note. I don't remember when I started doing this, and I'm horribly inconsistent as you can see by the dates, but I'll jot down my word count for my wip chapter and then jot it down again when I remember to later.

I write slow. A lot of times I sit down to write and it feels like the wheels are spinning in place. My minutes and hours don't stretch very far, typically don't add up to much. But days, weeks, months. That's when I can at least measure the progress.

Fic: So It Goes 40/44 - 438,946 words

My V x River Ward and tinfoil hat conspiracy theory long fic. I've spent way more hours on this then I have on any of my VP.

I got tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant @therealnightcity and @wanderingaldecaldo to do some WIP Whenevers. I post my VP pretty regularly, so it’s always seemed silly to do work in progress posts for them, and I don’t know when I’ll have any new writing to share since in between work and the holidays, I haven’t had much time to sit down with anything since my last chapter update. And I've been feeling very... stingy, lately. Especially when it comes to mine and other people's writing. So take this WIP/Year In Review as my offering. Both these series, as am I, are all very much still works in progress.

I confined my reflections for this year below the cut. If you don’t want to read my long-ass essays, you can admire the pictures, maybe check out my fic, or just move along and have yourself a lovely day.

We’ll start with the easy one.

After at least a year of multiple playthroughs (I’ve played all the lifepaths, done all the endings), it only occurred to me at the beginning of this year to start taking VP. Part of the reason I never did before was because I didn’t realize it was a thing and then by the time I did, I figured I didn’t have much to offer. I play on PS5 and only have access to vanilla photomode, so seeing everyone else’s high-fidelity, ultra ray-tracing, modded, posed, full on virtual photo shoot photos, I was like there’s no way. (Not that I’m hating on PC modders, it’s just not everyone has access to mods or a PC capable of running the game, and I’m all for making art and creative endeavors accessible.) On top of that, all I’d ever heard from most other folks was how much vanilla photomode sucked. In the glamorous world of VP, I didn’t think there was any room for me.

But I started snapping pics anyway. And sure, there are a lot of limitations with vanilla photomode. But what that really translates to is opportunities to get creative. I am also a hoe for subverting people’s expectations, and very much believe when there’s a will, there’s a way.

Environmental and landscape shots were my first subjects before I started branching out into portraits and then capturing story moments. Through VP I found an entirely new way to enjoy a game that I’d already played a ridiculous number of times along with also finally being brave enough to share my V with other people too. I’d always worried about that before, if people would like her. Granted, I know Grandpa’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but whether you like her or not, I certainly think she’s made a name for herself over the past few months. Even if most people haven’t really gotten to know her the way I’d hoped.

I’ve taken hundreds of photos this past year. Most of which I’ll never share. There’s a lot of flops, a lot of weird experiments, ones that didn’t quite turn out the way I’d hoped, but I’ve learned something from every single one of them. I know how to spot good lighting, frame shots to create optical illusions, get a very limited toolkit to work in my favor, parkoured on all of the things, and heck, I even figured out how to make Grandpa smooch other NPCs. I’ve done atmospheric, mundane, down right goofy, as well as things that most people probably thought weren’t fucking possible.

I can’t say how long I’ll keep doing this, I’m sure I’ll move on at some point, but for now I’m still enjoying myself. There's a lot to explore in this game and I just can’t stop digging Night City.

Now, for the more complicated thing.

Writing

So It Goes… My peace, my war, my greedy and most ravenous of ghosts.

I’m operating under the assumption that most people following me here probably haven't read my fic or aren’t all that interested in reading it to begin with. It’s fine. But you need to understand this fic, my writing, is the main thing that brought me here. This is also Grandpa V’s story. Most of you have met her, but unless you've been reading, most of you do not know her.

I wrote around 185,000 words and posted 10 chapters this year. 2022 was about 253,000 words and 30 chapters, along with several unrelated one shots. However, I don’t think I’ve done a single chapter this year that was less then 10k, and my longest managed to hit 27k. As of the last update I posted, the fic is currently sitting at around 439k words, 40 chapters, and still isn’t done.

I have four more chapters to write. I have written a metric shit ton of words. This is, by far, the longest and most intense creative project I’ve ever endeavored to complete.

When I started writing, I was expecting this fic to be around 100-150k. That seemed to be the average for most long fics. I did not plan on being an outlier. I'm not sure you can ever really plan for that, but I guess I enjoy subverting my own expectations too.

For those of you who are reading my fic, it is my sincerest hope that it shatters every expectation of where you think it’s going. It’s not a joke that I tagged my fic “#an ode to my tinfoil hat”. An ode it has turned out to be. I’ve been sitting on this theory for two years. I have told no one about it. I hope it sticks the landing and hits the way I want it to. I don't know if it will. But fuck, I just want to be done with it so I can move on with my life, take a break, and give myself the opportunity to make and focus on other things before I have to get back on the damn horse.

I wrote less this past year then I did in 2022. I had a lot of life changes, most of which were good, but with times of change come times of adjustment. Along with some realizations that maybe you don’t understand as much as you thought you did. Looking back, I’ve been in a state of unsettled, kuzushi, for a really long time. Which is not a good place to be. It’s how your ass ends up on the ground with a knee knocking out all your teeth. I thought I knew better. Thought I had enough practice to get away from it. But bad habits have good memories.

I think given the circumstances, I accomplished a lot with my writing this year. I don’t know if my writing is exactly where I want it to be. I doubt it every will be, but it’s evolved, grown, and I wrote a pretty hefty stack of words considering I started working full-time again, bought a house with my partner, moved, and have been dealing with the millions of other beans that life tends to throw one’s way. That being said, and for full disclosure, I’ve also been dealing with some of the worst cases of jealousy and envy I’ve had since I was a teenager.

Frankly, it sucks. They walk with me every fucking where I go, hold my hands to whisper back all my doubts. Try to persuade me to my baser instincts, to be cruel and lash out. But that's not aikido. Luckily, I’m not 16 anymore so it’s at least been easier for me to identify the problem. Though I’m still coming up short in terms of actually being able to do anything about it, and will be for at least a few months more.

Yeah, I keep talking about it because I don’t know how many people know that I've been feeling this way. And I’m tired of not talking about it in a room full of creatives, because yeah, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. And not talking about it just makes all that pent up resentment worse for everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. But with the way I work and think, it’s a slow, tedious, and incredibly time-consuming art. With how much my fic has snowballed over the course of writing, it’s left very little room for the other hobbies in my life. And as my fellow writers probably already know, writing is an incredibly insular craft. And unlike a picture or an image, which only requires a glance, reading a bunch of words requires time and commitment.

So, when you put yourself out there and share what you wrote, it’s a lonely feeling not knowing whether or not anyone connected with what you put on the page. Especially, when the people who do read aren’t compelled to voice anything and when the people you’d hope would read don’t. And then you're stuck in the dark, not knowing, because neither of us says a goddamn thing.

I started writing this fic prior to actually joining the CP2077 fandom. And I joined the fandom because I felt alone. I’ve been here a while now, albeit in a few different places, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away. I’m still trying to find camaraderie with my fellow writers and carve out something that kinda sort of resembles a home or a sense of community. I watch my peers around me as they seem to build that with each other, except me.

I’m envious of the things that people make and jealous of the relationships those have created and fostered between said people, because for the life of me, it’s been a struggle to cultivate that since I got here. I know it’s selfish, but I also don’t know what about me makes people so hesitant. There have been a handful of strangers that have shown up for me regularly, but as far as people I call friends in this fandom that have shown up and actually stuck around, I can only name one right now. (I know we're all busy. And I acknowledge my writing's not for everyone. I know maybe some of you are quiet, or shy, or probably a thousand other things. I get it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less. People will never know unless you say. Never know unless you take the time to interact or engage. Be brave. And that's true for a lot of things.)

The propensity is for the negative to outweigh the positive. I've got a lot of numbers on my fic, so you would think things would be fine, but at this point they just feel empty. They don't bring me any comfort or real satisfaction. And I hate feeling like the people I know don’t care and that most of you are just talking around me. That I’m some kind of annoyance not fit to interact with. Which may or may not be the case. I don’t know. Again, most of you have never said anything. And maybe I need to accept the fact that most of you never will.

But this is me trying to start conversation.

It’s really shitty, knowing that the thing I want the most is also the thing holding me back. I know how to work on it too, not that it’s any guarantee. The problem is I’m still writing and in a needy state of greed. And because I’m slow, I don’t have the time or the energy to be generous. I can only take right now. I can’t give.

Relationships require both.

I can’t bring myself to read other people’s writing. I can’t comment, or like, or share if I haven’t read anything. I'm desperate for conversation, but I also don't have the time or assurance to facilitate it with other people right now. And for some reason people never seem to want to talk to me, especially when it comes to writing. I want to be part of conversations, talk deeply with other people. But I can’t speak right now, I'm not in a place to offer generosity without someone first giving it to me.

And generosity and grace is what we all need.

Four more chapters and I hope my ghosts will finally let me read in peace.

#cyberpunk 2077 #2023 year in review #year in review #virtual photography #writing #from the top #fic: so it goes #long post #i can't guarantee a safe space but i can guarantee a brave space #if anyone's been feeling similarly and wants to talk about it my dms are open #the door's always open

34 notes · View notes

jacevelaryonswife · 2 years

Text

Meeting him in college | Modern headcanons 「AU」

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

a/n: College!Jace is definitely the dream guy, don't blame me for it.

warnings: curse words, fluffy, humor. English is not my first language.

modern headcanons masterlist

inspired by this work of @stargirlstudio ✨

Punctuality is something you and Jace both hold dear. Usually, you two are the first — or one of — to arrive in the classroom, always sitting at the front in every class.

Normally both of you sit side by side, as there is a little implicitly established competition over the center seat in the room. When you arrive first he sits on the left, when he arrives first you sit on the right, it has almost become a tradition.

It didn't take long for you to exchange a few words. You were together in four classes and had the most complete notebooks in the room, once, Jace lost the teacher's logic and ended up turning to you in a whisper so as not to interrupt the class.

It became a habit, eventually, when he or you needed something you would reach out to each other both in class and over text. Complaining about teachers came next.

“I can't believe he's scheduled a seminar for next week. ” He muttered under his breath after they left the class.

“He’s a fucking asshole.” Your curse was a little louder than intended, causing both eyes to widen before practically running away.

For a few months the only topic you two broached was college, until he followed you on Instagram and could see some likes you had in common. He liked the same sitcoms as you, he liked your humor and your feed.

You start talking about any subject. Series, songs, animals, routine, family and etc.

“I love all the characters in Modern Family, but I feel like Luke and Manny were so undervalued as teenagers by the producers.” You said while tasting a cupcake given out at the cafeteria.

“Totally, they get so simple and boring, there's not the same essence as before.” He says. “Why is your cupcake bigger than mine?”

“The cooks like me better.”

You enjoyed each other's company and humor, becoming friends over the weeks (it was a pretty quick start). When a buddy activity was suggested in an especially difficult class, Jace invited you over to his house in the late afternoon.

You knew he had better financial conditions than you, but damn, he's a fucking heir! His living room is bigger than your entire apartment. The force you exert to keep your mouth from falling out as you walk through rooms is inexorable.

His family was lovely to you, as was he, trying to make you comfortable. He was sweet and kind, keeping a wide smile for you being there. Most of the day was spent in his room (which was bigger than your living room), with his notebook, notebook and books spread out on his bed.

He thought he were demanding and detailed, but you've completely surprised him. You were totally methodical, your writing and presentation are out of this world, although according to you, presenting to other people made you nervous.

He prepared a snack for the two of you, earning a curious look from his mother before heading back to his room. “She is just a friend.”

“She’s adorable." Rhaenyra answered.

Indeed, you were adorable and funny. And beautiful. You were so beautiful and smart and you were in his room. He panicked for a short moment, stepping into the room with all determination and a forced smile. Oh no.

It was so weird, fortunately you were too distracted to notice.

After the end of the finals, the two of you keep in touch, talking almost daily. He asks you out during the holidays and you immediately accept. You thought he was so cute and handsome, with lips so pink and full...

Oh fuck. You’re fucked.

For: @damatheirin

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon headcanons #jacaerys velaryon x reader #modern hotd #modern jace #modern jacaerys #jace velaryon x you #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon

238 notes · View notes

knighteclipsed · 20 days

Text

happy anniversary!!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is. Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing! Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Template originally by Neffi!

Name: Kano!! (i often stylize it as 'kano!!' bc lowercase and exclamations cool)

Pronouns: they/it/he (but really, so long as it isn't 'she/her' and it isn't unclear who is being referred to, i don't really care what i'm called 😂)

Birthday (no year): May 6th!

Where are you from? What is your time zone? I've got Haitian heritage, but I was born and raised in Georgia of USA! Timezone is still TOAST✨

(more under the cut,)

How long is your roleplay experience? As long as my TOA experience pretty much :joy: (So, uh, basically just over 2 years HAHA) I did do some roleplay on like. Amino when I was 11. but i didn't really enjoy it or do it much willingly haha

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? My sister was super baller (she would do Minecraft roleplay on her computer) :sungals:✨

How were you introduced to TOA? Dewa's Dimitri art showed up in Tumblr's Dimitri hashtag!! I scrolled through the blog, saw it was a roleplay one, and my Instagram-pilled mind thought she had stolen someone else's art :crylaugh: (I, uh, quickly realized while trying to confirm that the art style was consistent and the subject matter was too niche [thinking of Dimitri dancing with someone at the Ethereal Ball], so whoever this 'mun' person was must've just been really good haha) Over the course of roughly 4 or so months, I learned how narrative rp worked, encountered some of the other blogs in TOA and even followed the masterlist itself! I ended up joining when I saw the previous Linhardt had just been booted for inactivity fdnsjkfnsd

Do you have any pets? Nope! I do have a plant though. I named her Vyse (yes, after the Valorant agent HER PETALS LOOK LIKE VYSE'S METAL FLOWERS) 💞

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Spring! Winter is much too cold for my taste, and summer is good but certainly pushes my tolerance for heat haha. My birthday's in spring though, which tiebroke between it and autumn haha.

What is your IRL occupation? I'm a college student! (The job search is real.....)

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Writing. Reading. Roleplay 😂 (Offering actual info: I love programming! I draw a lot. I like making/listening to music. Love and light <3)

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Baldur's Gate 3 GWAHAHA. (i have a lot of unfinished saves on other games tho: Hades(? made it out several times tho), Triangle Strategy, and the first Ori fnjkdjskf)

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: i don't. pokemon. i did once use Mew (the discord bot) tho and i really liked my Wartortle :] i also have a giant holographic Espeon card and the eeveelutions are unsurprisingly my bias GWAHAHA Honestly tho my answers are probably the same as last year--dragon and dark. Squirtle, Wartortle, Gible fndsjkf

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!) I shared my programming endeavors last year! Also some math stuff so--I play a shit ton of D&D. I've got three regular campaigns going on; might be four if my workload isn't too much :weary: I DM one of those games and am a PC in the other two--the fourth would also be a game I DM, which is why I'm working with my schedule to solve this fdnsjkfn

How did you get into Fire Emblem? Played Smash Brawl on the Wii, was suggested by Kai (WHO WRITES KLIFF RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH) to play more characters than just Sheik, and while he was wrong to suggest Ike, he was right about Marth. Later I followed him to Fire Emblem Heroes, then Sacred Stones, and then Three Houses--that's when I properly became an FE fan haha.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Finished (in order): Three Houses, Sacred Stones, Engage Started (in order): Shadows of Valentia, Awakening demo, Binding Blade in Japanese, Binding Blade in English, SOV again, Genealogy of the Holy War, Awakening (the full game), also Shadow Dragon in English--that's it i think :joy:

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First was Sacred Stones! My first finished was Three Houses tho haha. Favorite is one of those two or Engage idk GWAHAHA

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! I think Valter successfully stole first place, then Dimitri, Amber, Diamant, and then Linhardt or Selena (FE8) fndsjkf

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Dimitri! I picked his allegiance in FEH as a joke (I wanted someone to ask and myself to respond 'he's pretty :]' bc imo it'd be MAD FUNNY but then we got 3H for real and I ended up liking him a lot GWAHAH)

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 Dimitri. Diamant. no one else i don't think but maybe if I ever play Fates something might happen with Kaze 😂

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: N/A - Fates: haven't played but it would probably be Kaze - Three Houses: Dimitri; Yuri is the next on my list but if we aren't looking at my completionist ass he'd be competing with a Dimitri rerun 😂 - Engage: Diamant! And probably Diamant again haha

Favorite Fire Emblem class? idfk i told someone Mortal Savant recently. it might be Wyvern Knight tho they're scrunkly :softsmile:

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? Either a sword user or a mage! I would be playable, and I'd be strong in magic stats while pretty weak physically. (Imagine a swordmaster like that fgndjsfnsdf) No idea what class specifically but I'd probably be unpromoted on recruit!

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) Blue Lions. long live King Dimitri 🙏✨

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons - probably Reason and Authority? Banes - Heavy Armor fndjkfn maybe Axes as well!! Budding Talent - Flying (the fear of heights go crazyyyy but i do love the thrill 🥺)

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) I'd be a Brodian sniveling about the cold 24/7 (affectionate)

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) Separate letters! It's intuitive to me.

Current TOA muses: Valter and Selena (FE8)!

Past TOA muses? Linhardt as of last moon, Colm as of a year ago in two days!

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Linhardt! And I could totally see him coming back, but he'd need a longgggg nap first fndjksnf

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) People with really strong emotions seems to be the trend? Even in the case of Linhardt and Selena (who are generally more muted in their expression), they have strong determinations; characters that are particularly tragic are also to my liking. (Also if their dialogue is scaaaaawy I'll probably end up liking them HAHA) Not really changed since last year haha.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Not really? Though I will say my ability to write Selena is kind of a miracle; I generally have a difficult time understanding femininity and womanhood, but maybe it's that Selena is trans that makes it a lot more intuitive to me dfnjksf Either way, she's a good bridge into woman writing I like her a lot :softsmile:

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) Last time I just wrote I like dialogue! With the question slightly rephrased--I like confrontational scenes a lot actually fndjskfnds I realize a lot of folks find confrontation difficult/stressful to navigate, but I am mildly insane and slurp that shit up onb!! Say something absolutely horrendous! Slam someone into a wall (or the floor or some furniture) GWAHAHA!! (For the sake of transparency: Don't actually just walk into my inbox and start fighting my muses. I value the narrative a lot and would rather it come from somewhere and not be Too much fndsjkfnd I talk about this on Valter's mun page especially.) I like when characters don't get along! It's interesting! I love conflict! The big downside to this being my favorite is that you have to be really careful to navigate people's boundaries, but I'm willing to sort that out--just chat with me!! I only bite friends!!

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? Two answers for my present muses: for Valter, I want him to betray Maria (bc he's a fucking asshole and I want him to deal with the consequences of that fndsjkfns); for Selena, I'd really like a Glen here :oldplead: (this is not a scenario but genuinely if she found out Glen died actually she would be very sad!! get her with the emotions 🫵)

Favorite TOA-related memories? Nat and Dewa recognizing me as the Linhardt reserve just because I kept liking all of Dewa's stuff (including an arena thread with Nat's Linoan) 😭😭😭, Sirius rolling Valter as his liege in KKE, Colm getting dressed up by old ladies par Lloyd (Midsommar), Ree asking N if he was okay with writing body horror (Unscripted), Selena failing to kill "Vigarde" (AO), Valter and L'Arachel taking a million years to leave a burning classroom!!, Linhardt's Whole Friendship with Sophia, Linus slamming the Moonstone into a wall (and the floor), Valter getting chased by a giant Pikachu (Midsommar), Selena and Mlear :softsmile: (and by extension: Selena meeting Flear :crylaugh:), Valter beefing with EVERYONE (and also maybe stabbing Alfred? (he didn't)), Colm and Pelleas friendship 🥺, and the list goes on!

Present or past tense? Generally past tense? It changes mid-post a lot though; actions my muses are actively committing as present tense, but actions immediately past are generally. past. fndsjkfn It makes sense to me i prommy 🙏✨

Normal size text, small text, no preference? No preference! But I write in normal text unless asked to write otherwise; I don't take issue with the default size

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 Chat y'all already know.

#[ ‘by my cursed lance!’ ] (ooc)#[ ‘to ask such a thing of me…’ ] (memes)#// happy anni chat :softsmile:#// TO ANOTHER FIVE YEARS!!!!!!!

13 notes · View notes

lawlietscaramels · 9 months

Note

okay okay okay I know you said no stories (understandable the holidays wiped me out too agshwsj) but I just got this random idea in my head and I could wait...!

So you know how voice filters are so normal now? even copying VA's to a seriously convincing level. What if people started using L's usual voice filter? Like nothing malicious, just people posting the craziest shit using THE detective L voice.

voice clips, shit posts, thirst traps, tiktok sounds of his public challenge on kira, people hating and simping on main and L can only helplessly watch. His pride won't allow him to change the filter he uses he made that himself it's his damnit! it'd be useless anyways, they'd just copy that too .

What can he do? are there legal repercussions? can he even copyright that? or is he doomed to be the biggest meme for the next 3 months like all public figures are subject to in life? Does L even notice?

So can I request an L-centric headcanon for this? You don't have to do it right away! Write whenever you feel like it! I just thought it'd be funny. Have a happy holiday!✨

–🍰 anon

That's My Voice! ╾ L

PFFTJSBAHHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE?! this is the best way to start of 2024 pfft

also I have rested and relaxationed™ so I am doing a hc/story snippet mix!

okay okay yes. let's go.

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

It's hard to say how quickly L would notice if this happened. Perhaps on the first day; perhaps he'd remain oblivious until it all blew over. the former is more likely than the latter.

but oh gosh once he notices...

Putting the key in the lock and turning it, you expected to find L standing right in the doorframe to greet you, the affectionate weirdo that he is. But he's staring in horror at one of the monitors lighting the room, mouth wide open and a lollipop forgotten in his mouth.

"y/n, they've stolen my voice!"

he probably hasn't encountered this kind of technology outside of like, criminals faking voices to commit crime or whatever so he's completely confused as to how and why ordinary citizens are using the voice filter he spent months of his childhood tinkering with.

they should make their own! can't he use copyright or something?!

"Oh, don't worry so much, L. It's just a trend, it will blow over quickly! There is no harm in them having fun."

He throws his arms in the air and for a moment you're concerned he's going to tip his seat over again. "What do you mean there's no harm?! They are 'simping,'" with the most dramatic air quotes you have ever seenー L must have learnt the term and immediately decided it did not deserve to be a wordー "for a cartoon man named Miguel from Arachnid-Man! In my voice, y/n!"

And you burst out laughing, which doesn't seem to help at all.

L goes silent and furious for a good hour as he desperately searches for a way to stop this from happening. I don't know the copyright laws myself, but I imagine as it isn't L's real voice and he likely wouldn't have seen the need to apply for a patent (or whatever equivalent there is to protect a voice filter), he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

he would still seriously consider taking these good-for-nothings to court though...

You watch with both a- and bemusement as L taps his bottom lip over and over, fast.

"L," you say, "what are you thinking?"

It's not a good sign when that British accent begins to fall over his words. "I am weighing up how likely it is I would win a court case to sue for millions, strip these imbeciles of the right to technology, and publicly humiliate them. Do you think we could bring back tar-and-feathering...?"

DO NO T LET HIM. hahags it will take a solid hour or more of convincing but L will eventually give up, pouting and dedicatedly following the hashtag #iamLtoo

he might actually learn a lot about popular culture

he might also fall out of his chair in shock and cry

so, you win some, you lose some. maybe it's best to just take away his browsing privileges and remind him of whatever case he's working on. DISTRACT DISTRACT!

you're right, his pride would definitely stop him from trying to stop these "trollers" (he called them trolleys at least three times) via changing his voice filter. He made it himself, he won't give it up because of some teen living in their parents' garage!!! Though he might try to rig a program to detect people using it and delete their accounts or whatever

not sure how to segue into this one but here's another story bit

After finally calming L down and reminding him the tar-and-feather punishment was abolished for a reason, you manage to get into bed for some rest. To your surprise, L joins you, staring expressionlessly at the ceiling. This is what he always does when thinking, so you assume his mind is on the case and he's forgotten about the whole voice fiasco until he starts... cackling.

"L..."

Yep, there's a good chance he'll swing from "this is the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me ever!!??'!;;'!;';!!;"! :(" to quoting the memes.

he might actually really enjoy some of them.

though it's hard to tell if he genuinely thinks some of what these "trolleys" are doing is creative and amusing or if it's just a coping strategy for the next few months.

well, that is until he makes a subtle reference to the most viral of the videos in his next address to the public...

after that I'm afraid the craze sets off once again

L will sit back and watch with a smile

though if one of the uses of his voice filter insults him the whole thing is shut down faster than you can say tar-and-feathers

"You're a strange man, you know that?"

"So is this 'Miguel' character."

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

©lawlietscaramels. Do not repost on other sites, claim as your own work, edit, rewrite or “fix,” feed to AI or otherwise use unethically.

#ehdhehhe this was actually so fun to write i did it in what ten minutes? 15?#lei's lawliet #death note #l lawliet #writing #dn #x reader #fluff #crack #anons #🍰 anon #lei writes #writers on tumblr #death note crack #death note headcanons #death note hc #death note imagines #l death note #quick read

50 notes · View notes

fandomsimagined · 2 years

Text

Opposites Attract (Scara x Reader x Tartaglia)

Summary: Tartaglia doesn’t really think that his roommate’s girlfriend is a good match for him. She’d be much better with someone else... like himself.

Pairing: Scaramouche x FemReader, (one-sided) Tartaglia x FemReader

Warning: Slight obsession, pretty toxic relationship, language and slight smuttiness. I mean it’s Scara and Tartaglia?

A/N: Scaramouche has me in a chokehold right now. The brain rot is real and I'm not mad about it? please feel free to send me your thoughts on this amazing man that I am so ready for to come home!

Tartaglia knows that it's normal for couples to be different, they are different people after all and you know, opposites attract and all that. Still, surely two people need to have something in common right? But for as much time as he’s spent observing the ‘happy couple’, he doesn’t think he’s found a single thing (Y/N) and Scaramouche seem to share.

Honestly, Tartaglia has been trying to figure it out since the day he met (Y/N) and realized she was in a relationship with Scaramouche. It’s a bit of an embarrassing memory, because he laughed in her face, literally, when she told him. He really thought it was a joke until he saw the tears welling up in her eyes and he heard his roommate berate him for making his girlfriend cry. In Tartaglia’s defense he had been living with Scaramouche for months and he couldn’t recall a single time that he’d heard him mention another person’s name with anything but disgust. When he brought that fact up Scaramouche simply told him that it was “none of your fucking business.”

Thankfully, (Y/N) was quick to forgive him. That was the first real instance of Tartaglia noticing a huge difference in personalities between the two and thinking that they seemed off. Since then he’s had somewhat of a weird obsession with figuring out exactly how mismatched they truly were.

The second time was nothing special, but he still remembers it as if it were. A pretty boring day at work mixed with a healthy dose of seasonal depression that January usually brought had left him feeling weighed down by the monotony his job held at times. Truthfully he was actually looking forward to going home and picking a stupid fight with Scaramouche over nothing. It was hardly a productive way to blow off steam, but if he were being completely honest the competitive nature Tartaglia had always made him somewhat enjoy arguments. His mood only further soured when he made it back to his apartment and he walked in to see (Y/N) cuddled up on the couch to Scaramouche and him looking as indifferent as ever.

Tartaglia had made a pretty bad first impression. Sure, they hadn’t had any more unpleasant run-ins since then, still he was enough of a gentleman to think twice about subjecting her to one of their screaming matches that turned volatile pretty quickly. Change of plans then, he’d just walk by and head to his bedroom and be miserable. It was not part of his plan to catch (Y/N)’s gaze and he surely didn’t plan on her asking if he was okay. He reassured her he was fine with a nod and a smile, honestly appreciative of the kind gesture he wasn’t normally met with there.

The third time actually was a bit special, namely because it was a holiday and therefore more notable of a date. Valentine’s Day to be exact. (Y/N) bounced in happily with two neatly wrapped gift boxes in her hand. He could vividly remember the way her smile fell whenever she presented Scaramouche with the chocolates she’d spent archons knows how long she’s spent preparing. “We literally said no gift last week.”

“Oh, well… I thought it might be okay since I didn’t buy anything-” Her voice was so small and Scaramouche didn’t respond with anything but an exhausted sigh as he took the box from her hands.

He did pop a small piece of chocolate in his mouth and smirk at the way she perked up at the simple action though. “I'm getting my coat. Be ready to go when I get back.”

She was smiling again by the time she turned to Targalia and handed him the second, slightly smaller box, “It’s not much, but Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Scaramouche may have gotten a small smile as he covertly snuck a piece of the candies she prepared. But she beamed when Tartaglia freely gave her praise and eagerly ate a few pieces. She even giggled a little when he let her know that if Scaramouche wasn’t willing to spoil her on Valentine’s Day next year he would do it without hesitation if she promised another box of chocolate.

After that Tartaglia couldn’t help but start to think that HE would make a much better match for (Y/N) than her current boyfriend. But, by the fourth instance, Tartaglia was absolutely sure. His keys hit the counter with a quiet clink and thud as he threw them haphazardly and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. He headed towards the living room and stopped in his tracks when he spotted (Y/N) on their couch. She wiped her puffy eyes quickly when she saw him and offered him an unconvincing smile and wave. “You okay?”

“Yeah! I’m fine, I’m just waiting on Scara to get back.”

“Oh okay… he just left you here?” Tartaglia wasn’t sure how to word it without sounding so harsh, but he hoped his soft tone helped.

“Yeah. He shouldn’t be too long. Funny story, actually, I was supposed to pick up something for him on my way here, but I completely forgot. He just went by himself since it was important and he was already late to get it. I didn’t want to slow him down or anything so it was just best if I waited here.” The chuckle she let out was absolutely pathetic and he winced a little thinking of the conversation that actually occurred instead of her sugarcoated version. “If I’m in your way or anything I can go wait somewhere else though?”

“No, of course not. In fact, mind if I wait with you? I was just planning on watching last night’s game, it’d be way more fun with a pretty girl beside me.” Tartaglia flashed a charming grin and plopped down beside her when she nodded.

He almost forgot about Scaramouche’s existence until he returned and (Y/N) jumped up, apologies at the ready and waiting the second he closed the door behind him. That left a bit of a bitter taste in his mouth, but not as much as listening to Scaramouche detailing what she could do to properly apologize to him.

She bid Tartaglia a goodnight with a flustered expression on her face. Cute, even if it was due to a man that he was now sure didn’t deserve to see it. But that was okay for now. Tomorrow would be a new day, a day where Tartaglia would start to open her eyes to the horrible matchup that was her and her current boyfriend.

Tartaglia’s plan was… working? He was definitely getting closer to (Y/N). Conversations and playful flirting coming easily every time he saw her. Unfortunately his efforts didn’t seem to be driving the wedge between her and Scaramouche that he hoped. He was also starting to get the suspicion that Scaramouche was starting to catch on, if his more frequent glares were any indication.

His suspicion was confirmed soon enough and his jaw almost hit the floor when he saw them. Tartaglia’s eyes locked with Scaramouche’s, the smug grin on his face let him know that their meeting in the living room was no accident. Tartaglia swallowed hard as his eye drifted downwards to where (Y/N) was settled between his knees, completely bare and bobbing her head seemingly unaware of his presence.

He should retreat. Turn right around and walk back out the front door and try to forget what he saw, or head to his bedroom and try to rub one out. Still he stayed glued to the floor watching with bated breath as Scaramouche tangled his hand in her hair and yanked her off of him. The whine she let out was sinful and Tartaglia could feel his jeans tighten just a bit, “Come on, Scara..”

“Sorry, baby, looks like we’ve been interrupted.” Scaramouche twisted her head so she could get a clear view of their intruder. Tartaglia’s eyes widened to the size of saucers when they met (Y/N)’s. She seemed to be just as shocked as him and scrambled for a throw blanket on the couch to cover herself, while Scaramouche didn’t bother trying to move in the slightest. Apologies spewed from her mouth like water from an ornate fountain. Scaramouche did very little to hide his amusement.

“No need to apologize. He walked in on us, and besides, looks like he enjoyed himself.”

Tartaglia watched as her eyes flitted to his crotch and quickly back up to his eyes like she was trying to hide the fact she was confirming her boyfriend’s claims. He guessed it was his turn to apologize, “Sorry, I was just-”

“Just what? Getting a good look before you got off on watching my girlfriend?” Scaramouche chuckled when he saw Tartaglia’s jaw twitch and face flushed. His attention then turned back to (Y/N), “Looks like I was right, huh? I told you he spends too much time fawning over what he can’t have. You know what though… I'm feeling kind of generous today. Maybe we could throw him a bone and let him watch just this once.”

Tartaglia was ashamed of how quiet he was, how uncharacteristically meek he was being. Still, he stayed glued to his spot and watched (Y/N). He wasn’t stupid enough to think that her bastard of a boyfriend didn’t have this entire thing planned. Tartaglia was pretty sure that (Y/N) was just along for the ride, and he could only hold that she might just have some mercy on him. She looked at him and then turned back to Scaramouch, “Umm… I guess that would be okay, if that’s what you want to do…”

Scaramouche scoffed at the relieved look on his roommate’s face and even muttered something on the lines of him being pathetic. Normally, Tartaglia would be ready to fight and defend his own honor, but he did feel pathetic at the moment and he could always punch him after… Then, a wicked grin spread across Scaramouche’s face, “First things first though. If you want something from me, you beg for it.”

#scaramouche #scaranation #scaramouche smut #yandere genshin x reader #yandere tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #scaramouche x reader #genshin smut

332 notes · View notes

tumblydovereviews · 5 months

Text

What Failing NaNoWriMo Taught Me

This is a change in subject from the usual media posts, but I wanted to try and broad out the scope of my writing a bit.

If you are even remotely familiar with the online writing community, you will probably know what NaNoWriMo is. Every November, writers from all around the world scramble to start an all-new story and to finish that very story by the last day of the month. And, did I mention that this novel needs to be 50,000 words at the least?

Being the bored person I am, I decided to take a risk and try the challenge out. And thus, half my October was spent forming a new world with new characters and a unique plot. On November 1st, I gathered up my supplies, booted up my laptop and started the grand journey into the wild west that is NaNo season.

Obviously, if you read the title of this article, you would know how that went.

I wrote only approximately 29,000 words for my novel. That's it. Out of the 50,000 words I was planning on writing, I barely made it half-way through.

But yet, despite my technical failure, I don't think competing in NaNoWriMo was a complete waste. I learned quite a few lessons from the journey, both writing and non-writing related, and I'm here to share them with you.

Hydrate, hydrate, HYDRATE: Like many others, I have trouble keeping a consistent amount of water in my daily diet. Somedays, I'll hardly drink any at all and on others, chugging down is all that I'll do. A few years ago, my lack of hydration actually landed me in the ER on an IV. Most of the time, we are taught only to drink water to keep our bodies going. But, I learned that when I was sufficiently hydrated while writing, I could go on for much longer periods of time compared to when I was thirsty. As it turns out, drinking water and fluids can also have a positive impact on our brain function!

Create goals based off your personal style: I'm not too bad of a chronic procrastinator. Like all of us have, occasionally I'll put projects aside towards the last minute, but for the most part, I'm a pretty good worker. My problem is working consistently- I concentrate much better in controlled bursts of time than in a long session, but at the same time, I don't like leaving work unfinished. If I start a chapter, I'm going to finish it no matter what, for better or for worse. For NaNoWriMo, I decided to aim on finishing at least one chapter of my story per day. That way, I would have a manageable amount of work while still staying productive in the process.

At the same time, life is WAY more important than writing: Throughout November, Thanksgiving, school, and the start of the holidays in general impeded my ability to write as much as I could have. And that's okay! Writing is just one part of my life, not my entire well-being. I try to divide the different aspects of my life into certain 'parts,' from my academic part to my author part for tumblydovereviews. This helps me to throw away any worries I mayhave about another 'part,' and instead focus my whole self onto one part at a time.

Grow a closer bond with your characters: I loved my characters. I thought about them throughout the day and as I wrote. I came up with their favorite activities, movies, and foods, and imagined scenarios for them in my head. In a way, this made writing them easier as I knew more about how they would react and why.

And, if no matter what you try, you still fail NaNoWriMo...: That's okay! Remember, the entire point of this challenge is to have fun while also completing a story in the process. No matter what happens, I'm proud of you for trying. You're doing great!

Will I decide to complete NaNoWriMo again next year? It remains to be seen. But one thing remains clear: even through my failure, I still love to write. I still love to read. I still want to create stories and worlds and essays. And, nothing will stop me from doing that.

#nanowrimo #writing #writing tips #fallure #essay #tumblydovereviews #creative writing #writeblr

9 notes · View notes

phleb0tomist · 4 months

Note

hi there, hope ur having a good day/evening/night! im currently writing my college dissertation about accessible tourism and was wondering what was your experience with it: have you ever gone on a holiday and had to had accomodations prepared for you? if so, what kind of accomodations? if not, what sort of accomodations would be necessary for you to go out on a holiday? please excuse me if i'm too straightforward, it's just an interesting topic i've been thinking about for the past 3 months and it reminded me of you.

thank you for reading!

hi! oo interesting subject. good luck with your dissertation!! I’ll just blurt out some thoughts, idk which parts may be of interest but here we go :)

travel is hard and weird for me but i attempt it anyway! whilst my family and i always do extensive organising and checking before travel, a lot of the things hotels/airports promise us end up falling through, so we have to accept in advance that accommodations will not always work out. often we book an accessible room but then arrive to find it has steps or bulky furniture which blocks me from moving thru the room in my chair. c’est la vie

as for the specific arrangements we make… when i go anywhere i need 1-2 carers close by, so we get adjoining rooms. we call ahead to confirm that any place we’re staying is accessible and ideally has a wetroom. a lot of hotels/apartments purport to be accessible but then my wheelchair doesn’t actually fit into the bathroom. for my health condition i need to block out daylight, so we look at pics of the rooms online to make sure they have long curtains/blinds that fully close, or we call the place to ask. I legit will not go somewhere with flimsy decorative curtains ! i also can’t use overhead lights, I only use lamps (they’re dimmer & more diffuse), so if a place doesn’t appear to have dim/adjustable lamps then I won’t go. other things that are helpful to have in the room: kettle to make hot water bottles (i use them round the clock), and fridge to store liquid food for when I can’t eat regular stuff.

for car/auto travel there needs to be enough space for me to lie down in the back of the vehicle, with cushions to support me. this is possibly illegal 😻 but if i wasn’t able to do that then i couldn’t really leave my home at all, so idc. (in a magical accessible world we’d have a vehicle with a stretcher with seatbelts or smth, but this is too expensive). this sometimes means we need to use multiple vehicles despite there only being 4 of us because I take up the entire backseat of the car :/

for plane travel we prebook special assistance, which is basically mandatory if you’re a wheelchair user in an airport but it’s quite hassley and often adds an extra hour to our time at the airport bc of staffing delays and miscommunications etc. any time that we’re not actively moving through the airport, i lie down across benches (or on a blanket on the floor if needs be) in the most private areas we can find. ideally there would be a stretcher available to minimise time spent upright without making me lie in weird places but this has never been an option. but that would make travel 100x easier for me. i also have to use either an ambulift (awful👎) or tunnel (awesome👍) to get onto the plane, and an aisle chair once I’m on the plane. these require booking.

this stuff is all pretty specific to me personally, i hope it’s still an interesting perspective!

#answered #txt #accessibility #disability

8 notes · View notes

writing-intheundercroft · 10 months

Text

When We're Older || Mine

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9,640

Chapter Rating: Explicit (warning: smut, PIV sex, NSFW, MDNI)

A/N: Thank you as always to my beta, @happyaccidentsonly :) chapter updates may be a little slower with the holidays fast approaching, but still loving this story and Seb <3

November 1892

“What are you doing on Saturday?”

Theo looked up at Sebastian; her hair was in a long plait, and he couldn’t resist the urge to tug on the end. She was used to the gesture, knowing he wanted her attention.

“I was planning on staying in,” Theo shivered. It was November, and the winter chill had arrived early. “We’ve got exams coming up, and my brain is still buzzing from the Halloween masquerade last weekend.” she groaned.

Sebastian smiled at the memory; the masquerade had been a highlight of his fall term, the night spent dancing around the Three Broomsticks with Theo, dressed in matching serpentine masks. He’d tugged her upstairs to the room Sirona rented to long term boarders, hastily casting silencio and a locking charm on the door. They had been the last ones to leave the pub, Sirona commanding them out the door at midnight. When Sebastian had returned for his shift the following morning, she’d made him scrub the room from top to bottom.

Worth it, he thought.

“I was thinking we could have a quick dinner together,” Sebastian lazily threw his arm around her. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a night just the two of us.”

“Are you sure about that?” Theo raised her eyebrows, fighting back a salacious smile.

Sebastian rolled his eyes; bribing Deek to stay out of their business in the Room of Requirement would soon bankrupt him. “I meant a proper date. You and I, sitting down to dinner with one another, in a public establishment.” he shrugged. “Saturday, early evening? We can get back in time to quiz each other on the potions exam.”

Theo kissed the back of his hand. “Saturday it is.” she said happily.

The pair walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; Sebastian settled into the desk he shared with Ominis, while Theo sat across the room with Natty.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Ominis chirped.

“A bit,” Sebastian mumbled. “Spent most of it studying for the Runes exam. Don’t tell her, please.”

“I won’t, but you know she’ll figure out you failed the last quiz eventually.” Ominis cautioned him.

Sebastian was exhausted. Terribly, unbelievably happy for the first time in what felt like eons, but absolutely exhausted. Between working for Sirona, researching solutions for Theo, and keeping up on his classes, Sebastian was averaging no more than five hours of sleep a night. His regimen, which he’d artfully crafted the year prior to keep him on task, had become a burden. Sebastian was up for the day by five o’clock, and usually collapsing into a deep sleep at midnight. Theo was constantly chastising him for staying up, but he couldn’t help it–his grades were slipping in all his subjects, and he kept falling behind on his assignments for Ancient Runes. Even Amit, one of the most agreeable students at Hogwarts, had moved to his own desk after enduring two months of Sebastian’s constant questions.

The only nights Sebastian ever got a decent sleep were the ones spent sharing a bed with Theo. Deek had become quite the clever businessman, suddenly increasing the requested rate to leave the two of them alone. He was happy to pay the fee, often collapsing face down into the Room of Requirement’s plush bed. The room was now more often being used for them to snuggle and catch up on sleep, the stack of contraceptive potions Professor Sharp had left in the dorm rooms being left untouched.

That fact itself drove Sebastian to the brink of insanity, but pleasure would have to take a back seat to his sleep needs.

“Everyone up, out of your seats!” Professor Hecat called out. As all the students stood, she whisked their desks to the side of the room with her wand. “Today we will be practicing with an exceptionally foul boggart. Mr. Moon uncovered it over the summer, and it will soon be transported to the Department of Mysteries for further study.”

The room devolved into whispers; Sebastian looked over at Theo, eagerly craning her head. Any mention of the department of mysteries nowadays had her complete attention. Professor Weasley and Professor Hecat maintained that she was the top candidate for their recommendation, and she’d already been introduced to the head of the department.

“Professor, is it safe?” Amit asked anxiously.

Professor Hecat gave a sly grin. “Of course it is, Mr. Thakkar. All of you have been well trained in the riddikulus spell, but this will be a test of your adaptivity and swiftness in dealing with the dark arts. Now, if the class can line up, we’ll get started.”

Sebastian wove through the other students to the front of the class. “Professor, might I have a moment?” he asked.

Hecat looked up at him; Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d grown over the summer until he towered over his favorite professor. “Yes, Sallow?”

Sebastian scratched the back of his neck. “I wondered if I might sit this one out.” he said sheepishly. “My boggart…well, it’s Anne, usually. And I think it would be quite traumatizing for everyone to see her…uh, incapacitated.” the sentence tumbled out of his mouth.

Hecat gave him a sympathetic look. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Sebastian. I understand–you may sit on the sidelines for this activity.”

Sebastian sat on the edge of a desk while the rest of the group lined up. Theo and Ominis were towards the back, chattering with the other students.

“For today’s exercise, one must remember casting the spell is far more complex than one would originally believe–you must maintain composure, otherwise you’ll fall victim to your fears.” Hecat announced. She summoned a rumbling chest out of her office; it flew to the center of the classroom.

Banishing a boggart at their skill level should be fairly easy, Sebastian thought. It would be an easy outstanding grade for anyone in their class. Despite Hecat claiming the boggart was particularly nasty, almost everyone had tamed the boggart in one try, laughter erupting amongst the group. Hecat leaned against the wall, grinning at her students. One might even argue the exercise was fun, a moment of levity for the seventh years as they prepared for their term exams. If Sebastian didn’t already know what his boggart was, he would’ve eagerly joined in.

Amit’s boggart was a werewolf; Everett’s was the giant squid. Poppy and Natty both faced poachers, while Garreth put up with his aunt Matilda screaming at him. Imelda’s greatest fear appeared to be not making a professional quidditch squad, which had the entire class laughing and the boggart quaking to return to its shelter.

Ominis nonchalantly walked into the boggart’s range, wand at the ready. His boggart manifested as a black cloud, emitting the voice of his older brother Marvolo. However, he seemed unphased, swishing his wand to transform it into a giant puffskein. Sebastian laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye; had Hobhouse been in their class, he likely would have wet himself.

Last up, Theo swaggered up to the boggart, cheekily flicking her wand in preparation. She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face as she braced herself. Sebastian was curious to see what hers was–for all that they’d discussed, she’d never spoken about her fears before. It often felt like Theo wasn’t afraid of anything; how could she be, when she’d bravely charged against a troll on her first day of school?

The puffskein disappeared, swirling into gray matter. Theo’s arrogant smile faltered when it reached its final form. Sebastian had expected the boggart to take the form of Victor Rookwood or Ranrok, the two menaces who’d terrorized her during fifth year.

Instead, the class silently stared at the boggart, which had taken the form of Professor Fig. Although it didn’t look quite right; he looked quite unnatural. His eyes were glowing red, similar to Theo when she had her power surges. The real Fig always had a bright, jovial expression on his face in life; Boggart Fig looked weary and tired.

“ I’m so disappointed in you,” Boggart Fig scolded. “How could you? ”

Theo’s mouth dropped, her wand slightly faltering. “R-r-riddikulus,” she stuttered.

The boggart swirled into gray matter again, shifting forms. Her boggart changed from Fig to a strange looking woman with dark brown hair, gathered into a neat bun at her neck. She held a hand out to Theo, her smile eerie and unsettling. Sebastian had only seen her in the memories from the triptyque, but now Isidora Morganach was standing before the entire class.

Theo gasped, dropping her wand.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what possessed him. He charged off the desk towards the center of the room, pushing Theo out of the boggart’s way. He knew exactly what his boggart would be–Anne, cold and gray on the floor. There would be no surprises; Solomon had taught him how to banish it without a second thought.

The matter swirled in the thick classroom air, and the form of a girl manifested on the ground. However, it wasn’t Anne. It was Theo, writhing in pain, sparks of red emitting from her body. Unlike Theo’s fictional Professor Fig or Isidora, the boggart didn’t need to imagine what she’d look like twisted on the floor. It fed directly off Sebastian’s memories, perfectly recreating what Theo looked like in front of the Scriptorium door, down to the exact cameo pin she’d been wearing in her ponytail that day.

“ Riddikulus !” Sebastian panted.

The boggart relented. Boggart Theo stood up from the floor, a twisted smile on her face, not too different from Isidora's expression. She looked entirely unaffected from the cruciatus curse; instead, her eyes were glimmering red as she held her wand up to Sebastian’s neck.

Sebastian felt himself being tugged away, falling onto the ground. Professor Hecat was waving her wand, banishing the boggart back to its chest. Heaving, he looked up to see Theo splayed out on the floor across from him, covering her eyes with her hands. Ominis was kneeling at her side, whispering to her.

Sebastian turned to look at the rest of the class. Everyone had somber looks on their faces, pushed back to the perimeter of the classroom. Everett was already whispering into Eric Northcott’s ear, and Natty had her hand pressed against her mouth in shock. Sebastian felt a trickle of worry–Natty was the only person he knew who’d also faced the cruciatus curse, and she likely recognized the spell.

“Alright, class is dismissed.” Hecat called out. “And do know that if I hear any unseemly gossip about our exercise around the castle, perpetrators will be punished.” she snarled. “Sallow, in my office. Mr. Gaunt, please stay with Miss Caulfield for a moment.”

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, knowing that no matter how much Hecat threatened, the rumors would be floating around the castle in minutes. First, that the hero of Hogwarts had been unable to banish a boggart; secondly, that her greatest fear was Professor Fig. Astoria Crickett would have a field day rehashing that rumor, and he mentally prepared himself for the backlash that would follow.

Sebastian trailed behind Professor Hecat to her office; he looked back at Theo, who was sitting dejectedly on a desktop while Ominis held her hand. Sebastian knew it was unreasonable, unfathomable–but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t the one reassuring Theo.

The door shut behind him, and Sebastian settled uncomfortably into the seat across Hecat’s desk.

“I expected better of you, Mr. Sallow.” Hecat tutted, sitting at her desk. “While I admire your heroism, you must allow Miss Caulfield to fail .”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped. “Professor, she was mortified–”

“And she will learn from her mistakes,” Hecat said sternly. “That is the point of being a student, is it not?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win.

“I see your fears have changed as well, Mr. Sallow.” Hecat cleared her throat. “You believed your boggart would be your sister, but it seems to be Miss Caulfield. And you appear to be fearful of her being in pain.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly, wondering where Professor Hecat was going. “Y-yes.” he stuttered.

Hecat folded her hands on the desk. “Sallow, has Theodora told you she’s been a target of the cruciatus curse?” she asked softly. “As your professor, you can tell me. I know she suffered quite a bit at the hands of the ashwinders during your fifth year.”

Sebastian’s heart fell into his stomach, his organs twisting with guilt. “She hasn’t,” he gulped. “Only I worry about it, with her constantly putting herself in danger.” he hated how easily the lie came out of him.

Hecat eased into her chair. “I understand the two of you are close–love always does seem to grow between good friends. But I must urge you, if you are still planning on my recommendation for the curse breaker program, you need to wisen up.” she warned. “Your blossoming relationship may be interfering with your future career prospects.”

Sebastian felt sick to his stomach. “I really am trying, Professor,” he said weakly.

“Sallow, I fear you’re stretching yourself too thin.” Hecat sighed. “Professor Twiney has informed me that you’ve barely passed the last two Ancient Runes exams, and you know a mastery of the subject is required for the cursebreaker program. You also failed the latest potions practical exam.”

Sebastian shamefully hung his head. “I know, Professor, it’s just been a lot–”

“This is the most important year of your studies, Sebastian. You’ve always been a bright boy, and you’ve persevered through more than most students could ever imagine–you must push through.” Hecat said determinedly. She stood, walking around from the desk to put a hand on his shoulder. While Sebastian knew it was meant to be reassuring, it only made him feel worse.

“I understand, Professor.” Sebastian said, looking up at the woman.

Hecat smiled, eyes wrinkling at the corners, and she patted his shoulder. “You may leave, but send Miss Caulfield in after you.”

Sebastian walked out of her office on unsteady feet; Ominis was sitting on top of the desk with Theo, still holding her hand. Sebastian fought back his frown as he walked up to his two best friends, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hecat wants to see you now,” he muttered.

Theo’s eyes had returned to their natural brown, and she slipped off the desk without another word. Sebastian’s eyes followed her as she walked up the stairs, the door slipping shut behind her.

“Well, that was enough drama for one day,” Ominis huffed. He elegantly hopped off the desk, brushing his hands against his robes. “Should we head to lunch?”

Sebastian followed him wordlessly through the hallways, Ominis chattering about their classmates and their fears. He was trying to fill the silence, Sebastian realized; Ominis never spoke that much. It was the first signal that something was wrong, that Theo had said something to their blind companion that had clearly shook him.

Ominis had his hand against the Great Hall’s doors, pausing when he heard Sebastian clear his throat.

“What is it?” Ominis hesitated.

“What did she say to you?” Sebastian asked, gritting his teeth. “She must have said something.”

“Sebastian, now is hardly the time,” Ominis began, but he was swiftly cut off.

“What did Theo say, Om?” Sebastian asked quietly this time. “I need to know.”

Ominis inhaled sharply, turning to face him. Sebastian knew Ominis couldn’t see him; his wand was down at his side. But after years of living with one another, the boys knew each other and their mannerisms too well.

“She thinks you’re afraid of her.” Ominis said plainly.

Theo had been excused from her classes for the rest of the day; Sebastian had impatiently tapped his foot all through his last class in anticipation of finding her. The second the final bell had rung, Sebastian took off running from his arithmancy classroom, bolting through the hallways to get back to the common room before Theo could slink up to her room. He didn’t care about the prefects yelling at him; he clung onto his book bag as he tore through the hallways down to the dungeons. He nearly tumbled down the spiral stairs to the common room, his eyes raking the room for a familiar head of black hair.

“Have you seen Theo?” He gasped, turning to Grace and Imelda, who were sitting on the couch.

Imelda shook her head. “Haven’t seen her since this morning. She’s not in our room either."

“Imelda told us what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts—Astoria Crickett and her crew were back stirring up nonsense about her and Professor Fig.” Grace advised. “I would leave her be, Sebastian.”

Like hell , Sebastian thought. He immediately turned, running back up the stairs, two steps at a time. He was sure he looked like a complete idiot, but nothing could stop him from his search. The Room of Requirement was the only place he could think of, and the trek from the dungeons to the top of the Astronomy Tower was an excruciating run. Sebastian felt his stomach churning as he turned the top of the stairs, heaving as he pushed open the door.

“Mister Sallow,” Deek squeaked. “Deek wasn’t expecting you this evening,” he said hesitantly.

“Have you seen Theo?” Sebastian choked out. “I’ve been looking for her.”

Deek shook his head. “Miss Theo hasn’t been here all day, not since she picked up her potions this morning.” he gestured over to her potions station, which for once, wasn’t bubbling.

Sebastian groaned; if she wasn’t in the Room of Requirement, it meant she was likely in Undercroft. At least the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower was a quick walk away. He quickly bid the house elf goodbye, trying his best not to fall down the stairs as he made his way to the other wing of the castle. Dodging all of the other students, on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, Sebastian began jogging through the hall. He passed Professor Ronen’s classroom, going down the mahogany stairs. He stopped to catch his breath on the third floor, looking up at the rich tapestries on the wall. He’d always see Theo sitting on the benches against them, waiting for her private tutoring sessions with Professor Fig.

Professor Fig, whose office was just down the hall.

It all became obvious to him then, thinking back to the nights Theo would disappear from the common room towards the end of fifth year. Things had still been awkward between them, but he always made sure to check on her usual hiding spots. On one particular night, he’d decided to check Professor Fig’s office, finding her curled up on the chair. He’d held her while she cried, wetting his shirt; the moment had rekindled their friendship.

Sebastian changed his course, his brisk pace slowing as he approached the room. The room had been locked for the majority of sixth year while the ministry carried out their inquiry on his death. Ever since they’d returned for seventh year, the classroom had been open, now just a storage space. Mr. Moon had just cast a basic locking charm on the door, easy for any student to bypass. Sebastian slipped through the door, shutting it softly behind him. The classroom was empty, but he could hear a gramophone playing in the distance, up in the office.

“Theo?” Sebastian murmured, pushing the door in wider.

Theo was sitting on a dusty chair, the one in the corner of the room. Her feet were tucked underneath her as she waved her wand, little paper birds flying in the air. The gramophone was playing the same song it always played–one of Professor Fig’s favorites, Sebastian presumed.

“They took all of his belongings when the ministry finished their inquiry,” Theo mused. “Black claimed most of the artifacts belonged to the school, so they’re somewhere around the castle. Most of his personal effects were put away in a Gringotts vault, for when I turned seventeen.”

“He named you his heir?” Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

She nodded. “Professor Weasley told me when she gave me Miriam’s watch for my birthday. Honestly, it made me feel worse–like I’ve let him down.” she uttered.

Sebastian knelt down on the floor in front of her. “Theo, he would’ve been so proud of you.” he whispered. “He would’ve never been disappointed in you.”

“We were talking about what I’d do with the repository,” Theo was fighting back tears. “He said I was being wise, leaving the power in the repository. He promised we’d research over the summer, figure out what to do with Isidora’s magic. We were brainstorming a solution together when Ranrok attacked.”

Sebastian pulled her hand into his. “You did the right thing. You went back for the power to keep the school safe, you said so yourself. Fig would’ve agreed, Theo.”

Her eyes were shut tightly, her fingers laced through his. “That’s not what you were telling me over the summer,” she said cautiously. “Are you afraid of me?”

Sebastian froze. “That’s what you’re so upset about?” he panted. “That I would be afraid of you?”

“I overheard you talking to Ominis while I was in bed, about my eyes.” she claimed. Sebastian felt a flicker of shame; he hadn’t realized she’d been awake to hear them. “That you’re not sure you trust me. And you…you want to fix me, when I’m not sure there’s anything to fix.”

“Theo, that’s not how I meant it.” Sebastian assured her.

“Then why am I your boggart?” Theo asked, sniffling. “Boggarts show your true fears, and yours showed me, my eyes.” she accused him. “You’re lying to me.”

“I might have been scared at first,” Sebastian admitted, “but I know you, Theo. I know you could never hurt me. I only worry about losing you.” He grasped their hands together, squeezing them tight. “Theo, I’ve already lost so much. My parents, Anne…we don’t know what this power will do to you. We don’t even know how it’s possible for you to hold it within.”

“I do know,” Theo echoed softly. “I’ve known for a while. Or at least I think I do.”

“Tell me,” Sebastian pleaded. "Explain it to me, I'm begging you."

Theo pursed her lips together, letting out a low sigh. “I told you I took the power because I thought it wasn’t safe under the school. That was only partly true.” she fumbled with his fingers. “I lied to you. That’s not the only reason.”

“What is it, Theo?” Sebastian asked, fearful of her answer.

She looked up at him, brown eyes wet with tears. “I did it because I love you, Sebastian.” she confessed. “Before I even had romantic feelings for you, I loved you. I think I was yours before I even knew I wanted you.”

“Why would you do it? For me, of all people?” Sebastian strained.

Theo chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you all this time, one that would hurt you.” she admitted.

Sebastian was silent, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ve been healing Anne for the past year,” Theo wiped at her eyes. “I meet with her once a month, maybe two. I never know when I’ll see her next; she sends me an owl when the pain starts to flare up again.”

Sebastian felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Anne?” he croaked. “She’s okay?”

Theo nodded, wisps of her black hair sticking to her tear stained cheeks. “She’s doing really well, Seb. And I knew I’d be hurting you, keeping this secret from you, but I couldn’t let her waste away. She’s half of you–you’re half of her. You wouldn’t be the same if she died.”

“Oh Theo,” Sebastian groaned, pulling her down from the chair to hug her. “I don’t know how you’d ever thought I’d be angry at you.”

“You’re not mad?” her voice was muffled against his cloak. “That I’ve been lying to you?”

“Mad?” Sebastian pulled away, his hands flying to her cheeks. “How could I ever be mad at you? You’re…you’ve kept Anne alive .” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her lips. “How does it work? Are you absorbing her pain, like Isidora? Is it affecting her soul, the way Isidora’s magic did?” he asked eagerly, wanting nothing more than to understand.

Theo shook her head. “Professor Fig and I did quite a lot of research into it, actually. There’s so much we know about magic now, more than Isidora ever would’ve known. You really do have to be so specific with your intention, so you don’t take what you’re not meant to.” Theo explained.

“Are you in pain?” Sebastian asked, pressing his forehead to hers.

“No, I’m not.” Theo promised. “There’s a more potent magic that protects me…at least, I think it does.”

“What is it?” Sebastian asked eagerly.

She bit down on her lip. “It sounds ridiculous, but it’s love.” she cooed. “Professor Fig gave me the idea a long time ago. He said love was the most powerful magic, and with the right intent, could protect, cure, even possibly revive. To love deeply, unselfishly, without fear…it can do the most amazing things.” she admitted. “There’s a book, you should read it–”

Sebastian didn’t want to hear more. Instead, he pressed her to the ground, his lips locking against hers. “I love you so much.” Sebastian groaned into her mouth. “You’re the most amazing woman. Merlin, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

She laughed, tears still streaming down her face as she kissed him back. “I love you too, an awful lot.” she sniffed as Sebastian placed kisses on her salty cheeks. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I could never,” Sebastian said fiercely. “I swear it now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life worshiping you.” he declared, peppering kisses against her jaw.

“Don’t get carried away, we still have to go down for dinner.” Theo chuckled and sniffed at the same time.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love you more,” Sebastian nuzzled her neck. “But somehow, I do.”

The couple stayed on the floor for a little while longer, listening to the song play on repeat. Sebastian had questions, of course, but he figured he now had the rest of his life to ask them. And Anne–Anne, of all people–was alive and thriving. The worry he had over his sister was always bubbling within him, pushed to the bottom as he tried to improve himself, but now he could relax.

Theo had been keeping her healthy. His heart felt like it was doing flips as he digested what she’d said–she’d absorbed the power long before they’d started dating, before they’d even kissed. Way before Sebastian had felt the burning jealousy he had whenever another boy spoke to her. They’d only been friends then, and yet she’d loved him.

Mine , he thought. And he was hers. Before they'd even known that they'd wanted each other, they'd belonged to one another.

It was only when Theo’s stomach growled that they got to their feet; dinner would start in five minutes, and if they hurried, they could get to the Great Hall in time. Hopefully Ominis would have saved them seats–if not, Sebastian would be more than happy to run to the kitchens to fetch her food. He’d never complain about carrying her or running through the castle for her ever again.

“Do you think Anne would be open to seeing me?” Sebastian asked eagerly, swinging Theo’s arm back and forth as they walked through Central Hall.

“I’ll ask her the next time I see her.” Theo promised. “She and I…well, it’s an interesting relationship. I can never tell if she hates me, or thinks we’re friends.”

Sebastian snorted. “She’s like that with girls she doesn’t know well. I’m sure with time she’ll love you just as much as I do.” he assured her.

They passed the Ancient Runes classroom; Professor Twiney gave them a curious look as they walked by. Once they were past earshot, Theo cleared her throat.

“I meant to ask,” Theo interjected, “how your Runes exam went.”

Sebastian held back the wince on his face. “It was fine,” he lied.

“Really?” Theo asked, eyebrows raised. “Amit said he had to switch desks, you were asking for too many answers.”

Sebastian cursed the Ravenclaw under his breath. “It wasn’t my best work, but you don’t have to worry.” It felt wrong to lie, but he knew he couldn’t let Theo down, not after everything she’d done for him.

“That’s fine,” Theo shrugged. “I’ll help you study over the weekend. Perhaps we can work on your translations over our dinner.” she suggested.

“I was thinking about that,” Sebastian mused, tightening his grip on her hand. “And as much as I’d love to have you out in public...perhaps we should do something just the two of us. Alone .”

“Bet Deek’s pocketing half your salary these days,” Theo snorted. “Room of Requirement, then?”

Sebastian gave her a devilish grin. “Room of Requirement. It’s about time we put that bed to good use,” he winked.

Theo chuckled, letting out a big sigh as she slumped against him. “It’s good to not have secrets anymore.” she admitted.

Sebastian pushed open the door to the Great Hall; the food had just been summoned, and he could see Ominis at the Slytherin table, two empty seats by his side. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his teetering grades from Theo for much longer, but for now, Sebastian wanted to enjoy the relative peace that had been granted to them.

Theo let go of his hand, jogging over to the table. Sebastian’s steps faltered, a thought stopping him in his tracks as he watched Theo slide into the bench next to Ominis, chattering animatedly. The power of the repository was somehow living inside of her–consequence unknown. While she’d assured him that her love was keeping the power at bay, Sebastian only became further dedicated to understanding and researching a solution for her.

The tricky part now, he thought, was how to preserve the power–preserve it, so that Anne might live.

“Seb,” Theo called out. It broke him out of his thoughts, shaking his head as he looked over at his two best friends. “Are you coming?”

“Coming,” Sebastian echoed, walking towards them.

Anne was healthy, and Theo loved him. Those two facts alone could give Sebastian the power to push through.

September 1898

“Everyone is staring at us,” Sebastian muttered.

“Don’t mind them,” Ominis huffed.

Sebastian grumbled to himself, walking a few paces behind Ominis and Theo. Garreth Weasley’s supper club had been a humble watering hole when he left London three years prior, but it had somehow become the most popular dining establishment in Diagon Alley in his absence. Everyone watched as the trio entered, whispering to one another as they climbed the stairs. Sebastian nodded curtly at Cyrus Lestrange, his former dormmate, who was standing amongst the patrons. Once they were out of sight, Sebastian could hear the music and chattering pick up again.

Theo guided the boys to one of the private dining rooms; Sebastian’s face flushed as she pulled back the curtain, revealing Natty, Poppy, and Imelda.

“Welcome home, Sebastian!” Poppy exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. The petite brunette hadn’t changed much at all; if anything, she looked a little more grizzled after her time away as a magizoologist. Her bob was bluntly cut at her chin, but her cherub-like cheeks betrayed her age.

“Sallow,” Imelda gave him a heavy slap on the back. Now one of the world’s most distinguished chasers, Imelda’s embrace felt more like a beater’s club against his spine. Sebastian had often seen her picture in the paper, wearing her Holyhead Harpies kit. It almost seemed strange to see her wearing a formal dress, bright gold and green to match her team’s colors.

Sebastian approached Natty next; he’d already seen her before at the Ministry of Magic, but it was still a treat to have her around. “I was not surprised when Ominis sent an owl canceling dinner,” she winked, giving him and Theo a haughty grin.

“Sit, sit,” Ominis commanded, letting everyone take their place around the table. “Figured we’d have a quick dinner with the six of us, and then join the rest of the club for the festivities,” he announced. Despite hating society events, Ominis was the most picturesque host. He was seated at the head of the table, smiling broadly at the group assembled.

“Garreth has a string quartet playing most nights,” Theo leaned over to whisper in his ear, her breath tickling his skin. “After the boys smoke their cigars.”

Sebastian bit his lower lip. “I’d much rather spend the night with you,” he murmured.

“Enough of your whispers,” Imelda complained. “Haven’t you two had enough time together?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, chuckling as he looked back at the group. “Never enough time with her, I’m afraid.” He slipped his hand under the table, resting it on Theo’s thigh.

Poppy gave them a beaming smile, leaning her chin into the palm of her hand. “Oh, I’m just so happy to see the two of you next to each other again. And with Ominis too–the trio, back in action.”

“No action from me,” Ominis waved his arms. “I’ve had a lifetime of trouble already with those two, I’d very much like to enjoy my peace and quiet.”

Natty poured more wine into her glass. “I doubt you’ll have a moment of peace with Sebastian home.”

“Quite right, Natty.” Ominis chuckled. “You know, Sebastian did tackle me in front of Prewett and Hobhouse…it was quite a sight.”

The velvet curtain was pushed open; Sebastian frowned as Theo brushed his hand off of her leg. His eyes went to the doorway, seeing a cheerful Garreth Weasley step into the room. His red hair was slicked back, wearing a fine burgundy velvet suit.

“Sebastian Sallow, my good man,” Garreth announced, making a quick stride over to the table to shake his hand. “Welcome home.”

Sebastian stood, shaking the redhead’s hand eagerly. “Weasley, good to see you. You’ve done well, I see.”

Garreth grinned broadly, his hands on his hips. “Hottest spot in town; Aunt Matilda was quite shocked at how badly the wizarding community needed a dinner club.” He turned his head as a parade of little house elves puttered into the room, conjuring their meal. “Took in some retired house elves,” he murmured. “They drive a hard bargain, but nothing beats their cooking skills.”

Sebastian snorted. “Well, glad to see the place is still standing.”

“You’ll be at Prewett’s wedding, won’t you?” Garreth asked. “With Sebastian Sallow back on the market, I’m sure it’ll be a splash.” he winked.

“Gar,” Natty chided. “Theo’s right here.”

Garreth blushed. “Sorry, Theo.”

Theo merely rolled her eyes, waving him off as she grabbed Ominis’s hand. Sebastian knew she was only playing the part, but something in his chest burned at the idea of her dismissing Garreth’s quip about Sebastian’s status. He never wanted to picture a reality where they weren’t together, but he would’ve hoped she would pine after him a little harder.

This is ridiculous, Sebastian reminded himself. He’d only spent the last twenty four hours wrapped up in her bed, yet he was jealous of a fake relationship.

“Well, it’s good to see you regardless–we’ll catch up in the cigar lounge.” Garreth promised, disappearing behind the curtain once the food had been settled.

Sebastian took his seat again, placing his hand back on Theo’s leg, its rightful place.

“Well, with that out of the way, shall we enjoy our meal?” Imelda cut the silence. “I’ve heard the lamb is quite spectacular–stole the recipe right from the Hogwarts kitchens.”

The dinner went on, but everyone felt the slight tension in the room. Sebastian poked at his dinner plate glumly. Even Theo’s hand over his didn’t ease his discomfort, and the rest of the guests knew it. It wasn’t long before Imelda, Natty, and Poppy were excusing themselves to join the other ladies in the parlor.

“Are you two alright?” Ominis asked hesitantly, holding his wand out. “Shall we head to the lounge, Sebastian?”

“Just a moment, Om.” Theo said gently. “Sebastian will find you.”

Ominis disappeared behind the curtain, and Theo backed Sebastian against the table. She held him by the lapels of his dinner jacket, pouting up at him.

“Are you cross with me?” she asked quietly.

Sebastian groaned. “Never, I could never be cross with you.” he muttered. “It’s just Weasley–reminding me how we have to pretend .” Sebastian’s voice was strained.

“Seb, it’s only a little while longer.” Theo reminded him. “Ominis and I are trying to come up with a plan, it’s only been a few days.”

He rolled his eyes, slumping against her. “I know, I know. My fault for not telling you I was coming home, anyways.” he grumbled. “Promise me a dance tonight, will you?”

“I’ll give you as many dances as possible,” Theo promised, pressing her lips to his jaw. “And quite a few more when we’re home, I might add.”

Sebastian felt his face heat up as she backed away, smiling proudly at him. “You enjoy cigars with Ominis, and I’ll find you in the ballroom.” she promised. Sebastian’s eyes lingered on her form as she sashayed away; the dark green taffeta gown she’d chosen for the night reminded him of the inky waters of the Black Lake.

Garreth’s club had been retrofitted into an old townhouse in Diagon Alley, the rooms magically charmed to expand, adding nooks and crannies in the house for private parties. Sebastian found himself wandering through the hallways, nodding at familiar faces as he passed. Arthur Plummly and Leonora Everleigh gave him polite smiles; Lucan Brattleby stopped him for nearly five minutes, the young auror wanting all the details of Sebastian’s adventures abroad. He could’ve sworn he saw Andrew Larson on the next floor up, ducking out from behind a curtain with a very paranoid looking Philippa Bulstrode.

Sebastian passed another room, pausing as he heard a familiar voice.

“Did you hear Sallow is back in town?”

Sebastian pressed himself against the wall, listening from the doorway. Clearly whoever was in the room had decided to forego silencing charms.

“I did–saw him come into the club with Ominis Gaunt and Theodora Caulfield.” Sebastian recognized the voice-it was Cyrus Lestrange, who'd seen them earlier than evening.

“How strange,” the man tutted. The other voice was Peter Parkinson, his former roommate from Hogwarts. “Can you imagine how awkward that must be?”

“I feel for him–left for his job, only to come home and find out his best mate stole his woman.” Lestrange let out a low whistle. “Honestly, I’m shocked the Gaunts are letting him keep up with Theo. She’s a half-blood, after all.”

“Yes, but she has that peculiar magic,” Parkinson pointed out.

“You know the Gaunts,” Lestrange reminded him. “Blood purists, complete fanatics. No matter how powerful Theo is, they’ll kill Ominis if he marries her. Merlin forbid he get her pregnant.”

Parkinson laughed. “That reminds me, Violet wrote this morning–she ran into the two of them buying contraceptive potions at the apothecary.”

Sebastian swore under his breath; damn Violet McDowell and her incessant need to gossip.

“Ominis and Theo?”

“No, Theo with Sallow,” Parkinson took a second to puff on his cigar. “Just like old times, eh?”

“I’m not surprised,” Lestrange chuckled darkly. “Imagine the next slew of Gaunts come out freckled and brunette…not like Ominis will be able to tell the difference anyways. It’ll be like Larson and Philippa all over again.”

Sebastian backed away from the door as they laughed, red in the face with anger. His hands balled up into fists as he stalked down the hallway, back to the staircase. He couldn’t care less what people said about him, but he’d be damned if he let rumors spread about Theo. It felt like their school years all over again; while she seemed immune to any rumors spread about her, Sebastian couldn’t stand hearing her name come from other’s mouths.

“Sebastian!” Garreth roared, waving his hands at him. “You’ve completely missed the lounge.”

Sebastian shook out of his anger, turning to the redhead. “It’s been a while.” he lied. “Forgot where it was.”

“Well, you’re just in time–music just started up, the ballroom is buzzing.” Garreth grinned. “Come on, get your wits about you; there are plenty of single women in there to dance with.” As Garreth pushed him into the large ballroom, Sebastian had to remind himself that he did in fact quite like him, and that punching him without reason would be a bad look indeed.

Garreth directed him to a group of their classmates; he quite eagerly took a glass of champagne from the table, downing it in three large gulps.

“Sebastian!” Amit greeted him. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

“Amit,” Sebastian acknowledged him, craning his head over the crowd to see who was on the dance floor.

“You’ve just missed everyone, taking off for the first dance.” Everett said, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Prewett and his bride, Northcott and Poppy.”

Andrew Larson appeared out of seemingly nowhere, also sipping on his champagne. “Jenkins has asked Natty to dance, poor man has two left feet. Hope she comes out unscathed.” He gave Sebastian a rather pointed look before gazing back out at the dance floor.

“Oh, Ominis and Theo are dancing.” Amit pointed out. “They are rather graceful together, aren’t they–oof!”

Sebastian pretended he didn’t see Everett elbow Amit in the side, and Amit’s apologetic look that followed. He stared out at the dance floor, where Theo was twirling around with Ominis. The two were laughing together as Theo danced with Ominis, the pair swaying elegantly. Again, her taffeta gown shimmered under the candle light, the beading on her scandalously low neckline sparkling from across the room.

“Excuse us,” Everett said, tugging Amit away. Sebastian could hear him scolding the poor man–it seemed like everyone was walking on eggshells around him, expecting him to lash out in anger at any moment.

“They make a handsome couple,” Larson observed, lifting his glass to his lips again.

“They do,” Sebastian echoed through gritted teeth.

Larson sighed loudly. “I guess that’s our lot in life, isn’t it? Watching the girl who got away.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows at him.

Larson looked back out at the dance floor. Not far from Ominis and Theo, Philippa Greengrass, now Bulstrode, was dancing with her husband. The couple looked mismatched; Philippa was tall and willowy, her brutish husband quite stout besides to her. Nonetheless, she danced on his arm with a placid smile, eyes flitting back to Larson every now and then.

“That’s not what it’s like.” Sebastian insisted. While he knew the truth, he couldn’t suppress the bubbling resentment that was rising in his throat.

“That’s what I told myself six years ago,” Larson muttered, gulping down the rest of his champagne and setting the coupe on a table behind them. “Take my advice, Sallow–move on, before it’s too late.”

The song ended as Larson walked away, and Sebastian felt like there was a cinder block pinned to his chest. His heart pattered as Theo walked towards him, clapping for the musicians with Ominis’s hand on the small of her back. Ominis had never been touchy in their youth, complaining about hugs and nudges during their school years. Sebastian had taken note of how comfortable he’d become around Theo in his absence; it had started with Ominis hanging her blouses, and now it was glaringly obvious as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

Mine, Sebastian’s heart roared. Not his.

“I’ve had my fill of dancing,” Ominis announced loudly. “I think I’ll retire for the night–Sebastian, would you mind terribly accompanying Theo?”

Inquiring minds were staring at them, so Sebastian swallowed his pride and smiled politely. “Of course,” he nodded his head, quickly shaking Ominis’s hand.

“Behave, you two.” Ominis snickered.

“Can’t make any promises,” Theo patted his cheek, pressing a quick kiss to the opposite one.

Ominis made a show of his exit, which left Theo and Sebastian standing next to each other. The musicians picked back up on their instruments, starting the next song.

“I believe I promised you a dance, Mr. Sallow.” Theo said sweetly. “Do me the honor?”

“It would be mine, entirely.” Sebastian murmured, taking her hand. He led her out onto the dance floor, knowing the entire room’s eyes were on them. With that in mind, he placed his hand quite low on her waist, gripping her through the fabric of her gown. It had been too long since he’d done a proper dance, so he glanced down at Theo quite shyly.

“I fear I’ve forgotten the steps,” he admitted sheepishly.

Theo gave him a sparkling smile. “I’ll guide you, don’t worry.” she reassured him.

The music picked up speed and Sebastian locked his eyes on Theo’s. She had always been beautiful, with shiny hair and a pretty complexion. Despite all the time they’d spent together since his return, Sebastian wasn’t sure they’d ever have enough time for him to properly digest how she’d changed in his absence. Her posture was different, even cockier than she’d been when they were teenagers. Cheekbones slightly sharper, lips a bit poutier (perhaps still swollen from the kisses he’d lavished her with that afternoon).

“What are you staring at?” Theo asked teasingly.

“Just how ravishing you look,” Sebastian hummed, pulling her tighter.

Theo rolled her eyes. “There are people watching, Seb.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian declared. “We’re the talk of the town, if you haven’t heard.”

More people joined the dance floor, crowding around the pair. Sebastian spun Theo around, grabbing her by the waist again to lift her in the air. The dance steps came back to him quite easily, reminding him of their youth. Back then, before the Crimson Lion was an elegant establishment, Sebastian and Theo had spent many evenings dining and dancing with their friends, up until the wee hours of the morning.

“What have you overheard?” Theo asked, clasping her hand on his shoulder as he lifted her.

“Well, for starters, everyone thinks I’m about to combust.” Sebastian chuffed. “They all think I’m about to murder Ominis for stealing you away.”

Theo grinned at him. “Is that not every girl’s dream, to have the two most eligible bachelors chasing her?”

“My nightmare,” Sebastian growled, tugging her body flush against his. “I can’t wait to prove you’re mine, only mine.” He rather scandalously tipped her chin up towards him, his fingers trailing down her neck. “Where’s your necklace?” he observed, noticing the silver chain was gone.

“Left it at home,” Theo licked her berry stained lips. “I took it off while you were in the bath. Left it somewhere for you to find.”

Sebastian blinked at her, picturing Theo slipping the engagement ring off her neck, hiding it in the house. He knew Theo wasn’t a legilimens, but somehow she’d read his mind that morning, knowing he was brainstorming the perfect way to steal the bauble back from her. They’d torn her dressing room apart already the night before–Sebastian was ready to do it again, eager to find the ring and fall to his knees in front of her.

The song ended, and Theo stepped away from him. He fussed at the loss of her as the music stopped and she stepped away, clapping for the musicians.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Theo asked, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Come with me,” Sebastian growled, tugging her hand away from the ballroom. He could feel everyone’s eyes raking over them, watching as he stalked out of the ballroom dragging Theo behind him.

“Sebastian!” Theo chided him. “Everyone’s watching.”

“I don’t care,” He strained. “I want to be alone with you.”

Theo pretended to protest, but her feet willingly followed him out of the room. Her little heeled slippers clacked on the stairs as he tugged her up to one of the private floors.

“Quick, in here.” Theo insisted, pushing him into one of the powder rooms. She pulled her wand from the folds of her skirt, wordlessly locking the door behind them.

“Non-verbal, nice work,” Sebastian started to say, soon cut off by the feeling of her lips on his.

“You’re maddening,” Theo snapped between kisses. “You knew everyone was watching—”

“And I had to prove yet again that you are mine.” Sebastian slid his tongue easily into her mouth, his hands roving up her waist and to the bodice of her dress. “Tell me, do you always wear pretty dresses with this low of a neckline?” he whispered, pressing her back against the sink.

“I was saving this one for an occasion where you wouldn’t rip it,” Theo laughed against his lips. “You’ve destroyed two of my dresses already.”

“Well, I shall endeavor to take good care of this one,” Sebastian said, his fingertips ghosting the top of her breasts. “We’ll keep it on, then.” He rucked off his dinner jacket, letting it fall to the floor. His vest quickly followed.

“Keep it on?” Theo asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Keep. It. On.” Sebastian murmured, his hands trailing underneath her skirt. He smiled as she gasped, his fingers pushing her undergarments aside to slide against her core.

“Sebastian!” Theo smacked his shoulder.

“You’re the one who cast a silencing charm on the door.” Sebastian waggled his eyebrows. “Besides, I can’t exactly remember, but we have shagged in this club quite a few times…” he reminded her.

Theo’s head fell back, pretty little gasps spilling from her lips as she tried to talk sense into him. “We…were…we were younger then.”

“Oh my darling, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep having fun.” Sebastian plunged two fingers into her easily, pumping them in and out of her as he steadied her against the sink.

“You’re infuriating,” Theo muttered, fumbling with the clasp on his trousers. “Don’t mess up my hair,” she warned, her hand sliding in against his arousal.

Sebastian choked back a groan as she gripped his cock, her thumb running over the slit. “We’re quite good at this, for not having done it in so long.” His forehead fell against her shoulder, savoring every second of her hands on him.

“Hmm. Like riding a bike–or perhaps in this case, a broom.” Theo laughed breathily, turning to a gasp as he curled his fingers inside of her.

“Turn around,” Sebastian bit down on his lower lip. “Lean over the sink.”

“I want to look at you,” Theo whined.

“You will,” Sebastian grunted, pulling his hand out from beneath her skirts to turn her around. Theo’s hands planted on the porcelain top, looking back at Sebastian in the mirror. She blushed as he pulled her skirts up with one hand, the other pressing her back to arch perfectly for him.

“I want you to watch,” Sebastian growled, unclasping his suspenders. Once freed from their constraint, he shoved his trousers down to his knees, gripping his length as he stared at Theo in the mirror. Her face was a mixture of interest and amusement, her eyes burning into him. Sebastian stroked himself, pressing his tip against her warm center. He cherished the stuttered moan that came out of her mouth as he prodded her. His own breath faltered as he sunk his length fully into her, watching her curiosity fade into pleasure as he grinded his hips against her body.

“Seems Violet McLaggen has spread the word we’re being intimate again,” Sebastian whispered against her ear, gritting his teeth as she pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts. “So, soon everyone will know.”

“Don’t lie,” Theo moaned, her head tilting back to hit his shoulder. “That gave you some pleasure, didn’t it?” Her mouth dropped open, eyes shutting as she reached his arm around, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Eyes open,” Sebastian instructed, withdrawing his length from her. When she whined at the loss of him, eyes opening, he speared himself into her once more. Sebastian’s arm trailed down to her waist, tugging her even closer to his body. He did always prefer to have her bare beneath him, but something about taking her in the bathroom, her pretty dress rucked over her waist, made him feral. He rocked his hips into her over and over again, rutting his cock in just the right angle. The sound of skin slapping, their shared moans, and the crinkling of taffeta filled the room.

Thank Merlin for silencing charms, he thought.

“Sebastian,” Theo let out a staggered moan. “Sebastian, you’re going to make me–”

“I said, eyes open.” Sebastian grunted, quickening his pace. He relished the way Theo’s eyes looked glazed over; for three years, he’d spent night over night, dreaming of fucking her into a hazy state. Every morning he woke up stiff and unsatisfied, desperately fucking his fist while wishing it was her. Now, having felt her flutter around him for just the last 24 hours, Sebastian wasn’t sure he could ever be convinced to leave rainy old London ever again.

With one arm wrapped around her waist, the other against the sink edge to steady himself, Sebastian knew his orgasm wasn’t far away. Theo opened her mouth, a soft whine spilling from her lips as she found her climax. She cried out his name as her hands flew against the mirror, palms pressed flat against the foggy surface. Sebastian imagined her walking out of the powder room, pretending nothing untoward had happened, with his seed secretly dripping down her thighs the rest of the night. While he hated keeping up their ruse, the idea of her dancing prettily in the ballroom again after screaming his name was enough to make him snap.

“You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine,” Sebastian groaned, choking out curses against the crook of her neck as he buried his cock into her. He pumped his seed into her quivering cunt, grateful that she’d remembered to take one of the contraceptive potions after that morning’s activities.

Fully satiated, Sebastian gingerly pulled out of her, tugging her skirts down as he tucked himself back into his trousers.

“Are you finished now?” Theo panted, holding onto the sink with trembling hands to steady herself.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You’d like to go again? I’ll have you wherever you want me, but perhaps you’d feel more comfortable if we found a bed.”

Theo whirled around, laughing breathily as she placed a hand on his chest. “Being jealous, I meant.”

Sebastian reddened, choking back his own laugh. “Er, maybe.”

“Let me guess,” Theo fastened the buttons at the front of his trousers. “You got all riled up hearing the rumors about us.” She clipped one of his suspenders on while he worked on the other, sliding the straps over his now sweaty shirt.

Sebastian gave her a guilty shrug, dipping down to the floor to pick up his discarded vest and jacket. “Perhaps I did. Could you blame me? I had to walk into the ballroom and see the most beautiful woman in the world, dancing on my best friend’s arm.” he demurred, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He slid on the vest, shaking out any wrinkles from his jacket.

“Seb,” Theo sighed, lurching forward to button his vest. “You know I’m yours. I’ve been yours since we were sixteen. I don’t know why you’d be jealous of Ominis, of all people.” Once she’d finished with him, she turned back around to the mirror to appraise her appearance. “You’ve mucked up my hair. Everyone will have known we were shagging.”

Sebastian chewed on his lower lip, leaning against the door. “I overheard Lestrange, comparing us to the Bulstrodes.” he admitted, fingers curling into his dinner jacket. “That might have done me in.”

“Compare how?” Theo asked, patting down a curl.

Sebastian lolled his head to the side. “Said he wouldn’t be surprised if the next era of Gaunts had freckles and brown hair.” he muttered.

Theo turned around, placing a hand on his cheek. “Rest assured, I only ever plan on having your babies. They may have rather large heads and be quite stubborn like their father, but nonetheless, my children will all be Sallows.” she assured him, pinching his cheek.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a big head.” he mumbled.

Theo snorted, turning back to the mirror. She dabbed a piece of tissue against her forehead. “You had one as a child, Anne told me. Said your mum was quite worried about it.”

Sebastian flushed, realizing that not only had Theo been talking about his parents with his sister, but had also likely brought up the topic of having his children with her. His heart ached–he missed Anne, but had not forgotten the cruel words she’d imparted on him during their last conversation. That had been five long years ago, but her words were burned onto his soul.

“Shall we retire for the night?” Sebastian asked. “We’ll have to make a quick getaway.”

Theo turned to him, smiling earnestly. “Let’s go home. Perhaps you can start looking for your bounty.” she winked. “Let me leave first, and you wait a few moments after. I’ll pretend we had a row, and you can meet me back at home.”

Home, Sebastian thought. Home, where they could share a bed, and not hide their relationship. Home, where his mother’s engagement ring was hidden, waiting for him to find it.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at home.” Sebastian repeated, a goofy smile on his lips.

#sebastian sallow #writing-intheundercroft #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #sebastian sallow smut

19 notes · View notes

emma-ofnormandy · 9 months

Text

Indulgent Impulse Pt 2 @vikingsevents Day 6 Prompt: Hot Steam Rating: Mature Pairing: Canute x Emma A/N: Part 2 to Indulget Impulse posted earlier in the week. Thank you so much to the folks over at vikingsevents for hosting and I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season!

Steam curled above the surface of the tub, the white tendrils of moisture dancing in the firelight. Floral scents wafted from the water, the room filling with a delicious fragrance. Outside the sky was dark, the snow that once batted the lead glass no longer visible, though Emma knew it still fell. The wind had slowed, the whistling no longer detectable, and chill that had infiltrated the rooms had seemed to recede with it.

Or perhaps it was the man who was with her that had chased the chill away.

She shifted and water sloshed over the edge, the distinct plop against flagstone the only sound as she pressed back against the hard chest of her husband, her head resting against his shoulder as his hands caressed her person below the surface.

It had taken longer than she had expected to get to this point, an interlude in bed deferring them, but Canute had kept his promise and helped her draw a bath, only to join her within minutes of her sinking into the tub. Not that she minded. It was a rare occasion that they got a moment like this together, duty drawing them both away from each other more often than not and she had no interest in cutting this interlude short.

Emma watched the steam dance and fade above them, and her thoughts wandering along with it. A decision had been made that the court would gather over Christmastide and the preparations for such a gathering had only begun to be made. Elderman and their families would be in residence soon, days of feasts and activity to entertain, all the while conversation would be laced with political motives and deal making, men looking to boast themselves in the eyes of the crown while women boasted up their sons and daughters in search of the best matches for the offspring. The entire situation left a sour taste in her mouth.

“What is troubling you?”

“Nothing.”

“You lie, min kaerr.” Canute’s hands trailed up her side to the muscles that bunched along her shoulders. “I had taken great care to loosen these moments ago and now you have undid all my hard work.”

The corners of her mouth lifted, amused despite herself. “Court will convene in a matter of days and there is still so much to prepare for.” Not to mention it would be the first gathering of all the Elderman since Canute had dispatched Cynehard of Kent for the thievery of assets.

The handling of the matter had ricocheted through the noblemen, once again securing his control of the subjects of the crown and reigniting a streak of fear in those that may question his abilities, but Emma feared what the undercurrents would be.

“The household staff will see to everything. There is nothing to worry over.”

Naturally he believed everything would come together, not giving a second thought to the logistics of it all. Emma had spent just as much time with battlements defending London as she had planning for court gatherings and in this moment, she would take the battlements.

“And the events in Kent?”

He gathered her hair in one large hand and pushed it over her shoulder, his lips lingering against her neck. “What about them?”

“Are you not concerned how the rest of the Elderman will respond?”

She could feel him smile and she felt a shiver of foolishness. Of course he was not concerned. Canute ruled London like she imagined he led his armies, with unwavering strength and no tolerance for disloyalty, and the gathering of the Elderman, some of which still had questionable loyalty, was simply a strategic battle maneuver and he relished in the excitement of it.

“They will not speak against it, if for nothing more than out of fear for their own life.” There was a chilling finality in his words and Emma shivered against him. “Besides, since then, it would seem that East Anglia had a sudden increase in revenues.”

The turnaround in the revenues did not surprise her. Oswick was more careful than Cynehard and the second he thought someone had caught onto his plan, he would retreat back. Emma was only disappointed that she had not been able to confront him herself on the matter.

“All on his own?” She asked.

Behind her, Canute’s chest vibrated with a deep chuckle.“Oswick is no fool and a coward. He knew he would have been called in to answer for the missing revenues eventually.” Distractedly, his hands began to trail back beneath the water and caress her stomach. “And Agnarr may have made a visit to East Anglia.”

The only thing more fool hardy than going against the King would be to go against the King’s man. Agnarr was not a man to be trifled with and Emma believed the Elderman were beginning to understand the power the King had granted the large, stoic man.

Despite the worry of the coming days, she could feel the tension leaving her as Canute continued to touch her, his large hands stroking gently, enticingly. They trailed lazily from her stomach to the top of her thighs, each caress more teasing than the last. The shared bath in front of a crackling fire, shadows dancing across their skin as they lay in each other's arms, painted an intimate picture and Emma could feel her heart skip in her chest.

She turned in his arms, the movement displacing more of the scented water, and straddled his waist, his hands automatically coming to rest on her hips to hold her steady. Emma kissed him soundly and looked into his unwavering, ever patient gaze. “If you are trying to distract me from everything that will be coming to London, it will not work.” She did her best to keep her features neutral and her tone grim, but the hint of amusement in her voice was unmistakable.

The caressing touch at her hips slipped lower between her thighs and there was a flicker of determination in his eyes. “Is that so?”

His fingers toyed with her, stroking the sensitive flesh as his lips covered hers, swallowing the moan he teased past them. In the distant part of her mind Emma could feel the water cooling, the steam slowly disappearing, but she found that it did not matter. It would not be long before they made their own.

#snowyvikings #vikings: valhalla #vikings valhalla #king canute #emma of normandy #canute x emma #mine: writing #otp: mutual respect

13 notes · View notes

tobegiggledat · 2 years

Text

To the One I Greatly Cherish

18+ CONTENT AHEAD MDNI

✦pairings: Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) x afab!reader, Emi Fukukado (Ms. Joke) x afab!reader

✦word count: 4.7k (this part only), 9.4k (total)

✦summary: A series of anonymous love letters fill your inbox days before the world's most notable romantic holiday, but who could possibly be your secret admirer? Will you be able to find out their identity in time for Valentine's Day?

✦warnings: slight angst, guilt, kissing, massages, mutual fingering, oral sex, clit-leashing, vaginal sex, dildos, praise, begging, pet names (angel)

✦a/n: A special fic for the folks that only got love from fictional characters this year (me)

This fic has different endings depending on who you think wrote the letters (you’ll have to choose a link at the bottom), but I’d recommend reading both for the full context.

To the one I greatly cherish,

If you’re captivating eyes manage to stumble upon this message, then you must know how often you cross my mind.

And how there isn't a breath I take that isn't fueled by my desire to be with you one day.

Even from a distance, your presence will continue to consume me, although I'm afraid you won't understand.

Longing for you always,

Your Secret Admirer

It’s only been a day since you’ve discovered that someone wants to pursue you from afar.

The first message from this unknown sender was delivered with an eye-catching header to your school email address, one which you clicked with an urgency, zipping across the romantic lines before your cursor could keep up with you. The thought of it still sends a fresh rush of warm fervor through your system at the possibility of who it may be.

When was the last time someone yearned for you, let alone expressed it in such a heartfelt way?

A blaring bell chimes to interrupt your reminiscence. It's a signal for another day's work at U.A. High School, and as the Heroics Department’s Journalism teacher you mustn’t spend your time idly.

Dozens of students flock to their seats, some bright-eyed and eager to learn, while others give distant, dull gazes you’re certain wouldn’t falter even if the sky were to somehow collapse into your very classroom.

No matter, you’ll teach the subject with utmost enthusiasm as it’s one you’ve been passionate about since youth. Many of your teenage years were spent gathering first hand sources on heroic symbolism, the faults/benefits of quirk regulation, and more. You managed to garner a following for yourself on all socials—though whether you’re a good journalist or not has always been…up for debate.

Today’s lesson goes by swiftly, with you discussing privacy rights and the importance of examining a source’s background and potential interests. It's a lesson you could've used many years ago, nonetheless, you believe you'll shape your students into promising reporters even as you grow from your past mishaps.

The next period gives you an opportunity to collect your thoughts; an empty classroom makes for an empty mind, although your fingers itch to finally text your best friend about the whole “secret admirer” ordeal.

You: Gained a potential love interest today👀

Emi: Right, and it's not that one loser from the bar again is it?

You: Hmm, maybe. They're a secret admirer after all

Emi: So, secretly the loser from the bar?

You: I’d hope not, but the secret part does make that sound a bit more alluring.

You: Let's grab coffee later so I can tell you more.

Your phone slides from your hands and onto the desk in exchange for the stack of papers you were meant to grade. Your pointy, red pen taps against your bottom lip as you scan over the neat arrangement of letters at the top of the stack, checking and ticking along the margins then repeating this for the next page or until class ends.

The lunch bell inevitably releases you from your dreary task, and you're quick to align the correct stacks in their designated corners before gathering your lunch box and taking off toward your usual secluded spot.

Students line the walls in minimally chaotic rows, something you've come to appreciate as order is always upheld in U.A. despite how small.

You turn the corner into an empty hall, but your heart plunges into your ass upon looking to the very end of it to discover the long, violet strands and crimson lenses of Nemuri Kayama.

In an instant, you think to escape before she makes out your presence, but just when you turn on your heels to do so she gives you a condescending smirk while raising a palm to give a curt wave.

The controversy of your past always seems to linger.

“Afternoon, Kayama”, you keep your introduction brief upon clashing with her stark center amidst the path.

“Professor Kayama”, she corrects snobbishly. “Remember, this is a school environment, not one of your trashy articles.” Her shapely brows frown as she grits her teeth.

You give her a faux grin to appease her ridiculous standards of professionalism. “Trashy or blunt truths you chose to avoid?”

Her eyes nearly roll back into their sockets. “If you're the source of truth, then maybe the world is too incapable to seek it themselves.” Kayama whips her hair away with a pale hand, the click-clack of her heels echoing against the tile as she storms off.

You're just glad the whole thing is over with.

You stumble upon your destination; a quiet gated area outside the back of the school. The trees around it are ample of life, leaving shadowy freckles of shade across your skin as you sit beneath its thick heads of leaves.

Your head turns to and fro while you attempt to spot the signature dark wardrobe of your occasional accompanier, but it seems he hasn't arrived today.

Besides you and Aizawa, no one else has noticed this area's unusual privacy, but it makes things all the more peaceful.

You chow down on leftovers from yesterday's dinner then depart to begin teaching the last two classes; stringing together repetitions from the lesson earlier except with more exaggeration on the privacy aspect.

You head out to meet Emi minutes before the final bell rings, giving your class an early dismissal as long as they agree to go about it quietly.

You've known Emi since high school, although you ultimately decided to teach at U.A. for more newsgathering opportunities. Emi never lets you hear the end of it as she jokingly calls you the traitor of Ketsubutsu whenever you'd mention your experiences there.

While you weren't in the heroics program back when you were a student, you made notable achievements as an intern for a national website by investigating scandals of corrupt heroes and crafting opinion pieces on the ethics of hero society.

You met Emi at the beginning of your first-year orientation, with the two of you sitting beside each other at the assembly hall, playing off of each other's jokes in whispers and concealed giggles to keep yourselves entertained.

You could never bring yourself to admit that she's the funniest of the two of you, but you've always spoken of how you admire her approach to heroism as she brings smiles to civilian's faces even without the use of her quirk.

Sweet aromas of vanilla and herbs waft through the coffee shop air, with dim lights illuminating the rustic interior and dark wooden tables placed in all corners.

Emi’s seated near the end of the cafe and has already ordered you and her drinks. You make your way to her table, teeth gleaming and eyes bright while meeting her own eager, chartreuse ones.

“Hey, what’s the news?”Emi chirps, sliding a cup to your end of the table.

You hold the drink firmly before releasing a small sigh. “Not much to tell. I still don’t have the slightest clue as to who they might be.”

“I’m excited!” Her smile grows wider as she twists side to side with glee. “What’ll you do once you find out?”

“Probably marry them or something. I mean, no one has ever gone through this much effort for me”, you jape despite the depressing reality of your words, then take a sip of your drink, savoring the familiar flavors with each gulp.

She puckers her lips to give a playful pout. “Does this mean you’ll replace me?” She asks with fake weariness. “Does what we have mean so little to you?”

You reassure her teasingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll marry you next if things don’t work out this time.”

She taps her lips with her straw as if considering. “With such a good offer, I’m not sure if I want to help you with this anymore.”

“Oh, come on, Emi. You know I’ll always love you.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll help you”, she relents. “Maybe you should try picking a person close to you and observing them.”

“Hmm…funnily enough, I’m not that close to any of my coworkers. It’s weird I received a love letter through my school email at all.” You reach down to take another hefty sip.

“But there’s gotta be someone you know at least a little more than the others.”

You take a moment to ponder. “Sometimes, I sit with Aizawa during lunch, although we don’t talk often so we just enjoy each other’s silences.”

Emi’s brows raise noticeably. “Yikes…if anything I’d think he’s your least likely candidate.”

“I know, but there aren’t many options to choose from. Kayama hates me, I hardly get a chance to speak to Mic or Vlad outside of meetings, and All Might is…All Might.”

“Well, if Aizawa is your best bet there shouldn’t be harm in looking into him anyways, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so...”

You and Emi’s talk concludes with exchanged hugs before you take your train home, contemplating Emi’s suggestion and how to go about your approach.

When you arrive, you hastily discard your work clothes before putting on something more comfortable and lounging on your bed to reread the email you received.

Is this really something Aizawa would write, you hesitantly contemplate to yourself, scanning over the flowery words and recoiling at the idea of him putting them together—you ultimately decide it’s tomorrow's problem.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

To the one I greatly cherish,

I hope you’re pleased reading my messages as much as I am while writing them.

As the time passes, I find my days to be progressively trivial without you.

My most profitable successes are worthless as they’re void of your companionship. My biggest fear overlaps with my inability to have you.

Will we ever be united? It’s up to fate to decide.

Continuing to be blessed by you,

Your Secret Admirer

Today’s letter creates new waves of violent jitters along your spine, coupling with the preexisting dread that’s already palpitating through your system at the thought of approaching Aizawa about it.

You’re unsure how you’d feel if you found out he truly had feelings for you, and while you told Emi you’d probably reciprocate them, you can’t say that for certain.

You've grown to respect Aizawa to some degree after investigating his days as the underground hero, Eraserhead, but nothing more as of yet.

Only time will tell, for now you’d just like to get to the bottom of who’s been plotting to romance you, once and for all.

The lunch bell eventually stirs to life, and with your steeled resolve, you hurriedly pace along the halls, toward the back of the school.

The dark blue doors feel heavy against your palms as you press on them to finally arrive at the shaded area. Its lulling atmosphere is as undisturbed as you expected, you spot Aizawa’s rugged form on a bench, faced away and gazing at the limited scenery of the campus.

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here?” You ask upon approaching him while awkwardly hovering outside his range of sight.

He nods slightly but makes no effort to turn your direction.

You take a seat beside him, picking at the prints of your fingers to occupy yourself and the silence. “It’s beautiful weather for February, isn’t it? I honestly expected a little more snow”, you finally attempt to break the tension.

He hums softly in agreement but nothing more.

“Valentine’s day is right around the corner, but I’m not one to usually celebrate it”, you pause, clenching your peeling fingers into a snug fist. “What about you—”

“You’re awfully chatty today”, Aizawa interrupts, his voice gruff with irritation as his hands hook along the sides of his scarf.

Your words are nearly caught on your tongue. “I’m sorry?”

“If this is for one of your news columns or something, I have no interest in gossiping.”

You sneer, turning fully to face him, but only his stoic, disinterested profile can be seen. “That’s not my field of work and you know it. Haven’t you read any of my reports?”

“Possibly, but it’s not like I’d remember those kinds of things.”

Ouch.

“Whatever, it’s nothing. Sorry to have bothered you.” You defeatedly rise from your seat, throat and eyes stinging from the heat that grows with each step you take toward the door.

This isn’t the first time your work has been reduced to pandering nonsense, but for some reason it hurts way more than usual.

“Fuck”, you mutter quietly, sniffling away in the nearest bathroom stall as you try to collect yourself.

Has it really been that long since you’ve written something that deconstructed the masses view on heroics? You must’ve grown too complacent at this school—in fact, this is where it all went wrong.

Choosing to become a teacher instead of risking your comfort to uncover hidden truths wasn’t what you initially planned.

But is it so wrong to change paths even when your prior choice was deemed more impactful?

Is it so wrong to write proposals about a hopeful, nonexistent future than to expose more darkness of a knowingly ineffective society? You’ve long realized the corruption runs deeper than you ever could’ve hoped to shed light on. You journal about the new era of quirks, searching for an ability that’ll make the old way of things seem outdated.

Is that too foolish to look forward to?

Your phone vibrates along your clothes’ seams, and you swiftly remove it from your pocket as you swipe away the last of your tears.

Emi: Soo, is Aizawa dying to be with you or what???

A small smile creeps up your cheeks at her overwhelming interest.

You: Nope. It was a complete shut down.

Emi: It’s okay. I’ve been there too, Aizawa’s tough.❤️

A hefty exhale escapes you before you finally make yourself presentable enough to return to your classroom and finish teaching for the rest of the day.

Once classes end, Mic summons all of the heroics teachers into the teacher’s lounge to invite everyone out for drinks in celebration of his podcast’s growing success.

You: I was invited to go to a club with my coworkers tomorrow night, should I go?

Emi: Yes!! How else will you find your true love?!

You: Yeah, but with Aizawa and Kayama it'll be awkward :(

Emi: Aizawa doesn't go out on school days so you should be down at least one problem

You: Fair enough, I’ll just try to avoid Kayama the whole night🥲

Now, the only thing left to do is prepare yourself for another long day of hardships…

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

To the one I greatly cherish,

Come find me on Valentine’s Day so that I'll be rightfully yours. Let your heart guide you to the correct choice if you feel the same as I.

Thinking of you fondly,

Your Secret Admirer

Unlike the emails from before, today's love letter arrives a half hour after school ends rather than before it starts, and is much briefer in length.

You’re expected to somehow discover the identity of your admirer within a few days and without much to go off of.

It’s almost like they never wanted to be discovered in the first place.

Sharp pin-pricks zip through palms and into your twitching fingertips as the nervous chill that’s pervaded your body attempts to find an outlet through your skin.

If only they knew their longing is being reciprocated…

You aid your shudders with disordered breaths, mentally counting each dry pant before drafting a text to update Emi on the state of your situation.

To pass the time before meeting with your coworkers and to get your mind off the whole letter ordeal, you spend the rest of the evening formulating your lesson plans for the next week.

It’s tedious but necessary work as you ultimately decide on journalism ethics and informed opinions for the topics.

Emi still hasn’t responded to your texts since before classes ended, although you know she’ll want you to persist with going out anyways.

Nighttime arrives and you promptly put together a casual yet tasteful look then exit your home with the weight of the world seemingly trapped in your chest. The ride there is even more disorienting with clammy passengers cramming all corners of the train and bracing themselves for each turn with the lack of space.

Luckily, the trip is short as you find yourself standing before the glowing green lights of the club’s name etched in neon, with purple hues also trailing the rim of it and leading down to the snowy glass doors.

You tug at the elongated handles, breath caught in your throat as you take your first steps toward the source of your unease.

Ambient music sweeps through your ears, its vibrations jolting enough to stir the hairs on your skin and rattle the depths of your bones. Your eyes drift across the arrangement of floundering civilians to spot the bright yellow of Mic’s hair as he’s seated on a stool closest to the front of the bar.

His hands flail outwardly to make exuberant gestures while he speaks to a hooded man beside him. Kayama also sits near Mic, slender fingers cupped around a glass with a salted rim and lemon. Her glossy lips meet the edge of it as her gaze passes between Mic and the unfamiliar man as they speak.

How long will you continue to watch from a distance?

Your hands cup the sides of your arms for comfort—but suddenly, as if Kayama could feel the force of your stare, her intense blue irises spot you in her periphery before promptly shifting away.

Your body moves backward mechanically to leave until you feel your phone chime against you.

Call me, the message from Emi reads, and you take off toward a dark, empty hallway at the end of the club to do just that.

Thankfully, the area is quiet and private enough for you to make the call.

“Hey, have you reached the bar yet?” Emi cheerfully answers after the first ring.

You press the phone tightly to your ear. “Yeah, but I’m not sure if I can do this anymore. I feel so out of place here”, your voice drifts as you speak, tone shaky and uncertain.

“I get what you mean. It must be exhausting to perform in front of people you’re not really familiar with.”

“Right. I just never expected having a secret admirer to be so…stressful.” Your head falls back against the wall as you shut your eyes gently. “How will I ever find out who they are if they never plan to reveal themselves?”

“I’m not sure, but if you really want to find out this may be your only chance.”

“Yeah, then I should probably get back to it... Thanks, Emi.” You take a last sigh of relief before reluctantly hanging up to go back to the rest of the group.

As you turn the corner to retreat, a dizzying force crashes into you and sends your heels tumbling backward, scrambling for a tidbit of balance.

Before an apology could form on your tongue, you recognize the passerby as no one other than Kayama and begin to pull yourself away.

“ ‘m sorry, just came to check up on you”, Kayama’s words are slightly slurred as she speaks. She clumsily swipes her purple wisps from her deeply stained cheeks. Her eyes are glassy, pupils blown as they examine you with an intrigue you’ve never witnessed from her.

“Are you drunk?” You ask hesitantly, but she only blinks at you slowly.

“Just tipsy, but come on.” Her hand locks around your wrist as she pulls you along the halls to lead you back to the bar, and for some reason you don’t pull away. You opt to be dictated by her impulse despite the conflict that’s always existed between you.

Mic and the stranger have gone off somewhere by the time you both return. Kayama pulls herself to the counter and orders another round of shots after awkwardly pointing along the lengthy menu provided to her.

Three clear glasses are slid in front of you with a smirk passing over Kayama’s lips.

You question if her actions are a drunken whim or a genuine attempt to mend your strained dynamic, but you don’t think it matters much.

This’ll make things easier, right?

Fuck it. You gulp down all three shots consecutively, jaw tightening as the burning liquid courses down your throat and through your chest. Heat seeps into your nerves while the alcohol begins to conquer your judgment.

Kayama’s smile grows wider, a giddy hum passing through her lips. “Let’s have some fun!” She redirects you once more, except to the dance floor as the next song begins to play.

Her body begins to sway delicately to the thrums of each beat, a series of synchronized yet hypnotic movements possessing her limbs as her piercing eyes remain on yours.

She shuffles a little closer then places a soft palm on your shoulder, trailing down along your sleeves then grasping your hand again tightly. She twirls away on the tips of her feet, free hand extended outward, before pulling into you and pressing her back firmly against your chest, while her hips curve into your own.

As quickly as she spins into you, she turns back to face you with her features no more than a breath away from yours. She stills for a moment, quietly taking in each ridge across your cheeks and the delicate shape of your lips.

“You’re really hot, y’know that?” She speaks tenderly against you, although there’s an underlying sadness as she utters it, one her facial expression seems to mimic as well.

“Buut…I still haven’t forgiven you”, she winks without any trace of her earlier gloom present. The heat of her closeness disappears to leave you cold and aching as she turns away to leave the club without another word.

Her words still echo across your synapses while the clarity of her silhouette slowly fades until gone completely.

You've wronged her but have yet to atone even though the guilt of your actions continue to fester and swell in your chest to engrave rotten, pus-filled holes in the walls of your heart. It oozes and drips into your veins as it spoils you, body and mind.

Would she ever accept your pleas of forgiveness if you were to give them to her? Does she too believe that the tight-walk around the conversation has gone on for too long?

You anxiously text Emi on the way home.

You: I think I may have found my secret admirer

Maybe the letters were a ruse to finally address things once and for all…

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

The very next morning Emi sends a message to your school email.

Hey

No service right now but email me back if you need anything :)

Emi

A wave of relief washes over you now that you’ve been given the reasoning for Emi’s lack of responses.

You’re eager to give her more juicy details on your valentine, but you’d rather discuss with her in person once classes end.

Today is a typical Friday, with students excitedly whispering discussions of their weekend plans, and teachers assigning the appropriate amount of coursework for the next two days off.

Despite the upcoming weekend, you won’t be at ease as Valentine’s Day will be on the approaching Monday and you’re still dissatisfied with your “investigation”.

You’ve yet to see Midnight, even after intentionally passing her classroom, but other than that classes go by swimmingly.

Emi receives your email begging her to let you come over to her apartment so that the two of you can chat and she obliges.

Still dressed in your work attire, you give a few taps on the beige door to Emi’s apartment, which opens the moment your knuckles retreat from its smooth wood.

"Hey, come on in”, Emi greets, swiftly turning so that you'd follow her into her lavish living room, adorned with patterned wallpaper and two lime-green suede sofas at the center.

She sits on the farthest end of one of the couches and you join right beside her. The small coffee table before you is already decorated with snacks and drinks, you smile at the thought of having another movie night or sleepover with her.

“So tell me about it already”, Emi says, eyes wide and fingers clasped together as if she’s pleading.

“Emi, you're not going to believe me when I tell you who it is”, you begin as you reach passively for a bottle of water to occupy your hands.

She gasps. “No way, is it Kayama?”

You nod with a smug grin. “I think so, but I'm not one-hundred percent sure yet.”

“What makes you think it's her? She totally hates you.”

“That's what I thought too, until she started dancing with me at the club the other night.”

Emi claps her palms over her mouth as you continue, her emerald brows nearly touching the soft hairs of her hairline.

“We were both a bit drunk but I still think it was odd she tried to initiate anything with me at all.”

“Did you get a chance to talk with Mic or the others?” Emi asks with undeviating attention.

“No, not once. I doubt they had anything to do with this otherwise they would've made an attempt to reach out to me.” You focus on the feeling of the cool condensation on your fingers as you speak, rolling the thin plastic bottle between each hand.

Emi hums in agreement. “Good point. And going by the emails, this person must really-really like you. They're not just someone who passed you by and thought you were cute.”

“Yeah, putting it that way means Midnight is the only one I’ve had a history with, even though we’ve…drifted apart.” You let out a deep sigh before finally taking a few gulps of water. “Emi, things would’ve been so much easier if you were the one behind this.” Your pouty eyes meet hers, and for a second her expression is unreadable.

“What if I actually was?” She asks softly, but her features are stern as she awaits your reply. Her body unconsciously shifts closer to you while yours goes rigid.

“You mean, you’re my secret admirer?”

“Mhmm.” Her stare slowly trails to your lips and lingers there for what feels like an eternity.

You swear your cheeks are searing to the touch as warmth spreads beneath your skin from the intensity of her look.

“I’m just kidding!” Emi suddenly beams then playfully taps your shoulder. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Don’t joke like that Emi. My heart was racing.” You can’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes.

“Good, that means you’ve fallen for me.”

Shortly after talking with Emi, she puts on a romcom that she's been wanting to see for ages, but you can hardly pay any attention to it.

Are you overthinking what she said earlier?

It feels like you’ve known Emi forever, but it’s still hard to tell when she’s being serious at times.

Maybe you shouldn’t brush off the possibility of there being some truth to what she suggested, after all, she could’ve easily sent you those emails at any moment.

You decide not to sleepover at Emi’s house that night due to the unusual nervousness that accompanies you at the thought of sharing a bed with her.

Under the comfort of your duvet, you look into the pitch-black darkness of your room, silently meditating on what you’ve gathered while looking into your admirer's identity.

You vividly recall Kayama’s fleeting interest in spending time with you and how it correlates with the sudden letters. Do her feelings for you remain despite all that’s happened?

You also begin to ruminate the feel of Emi’s harsh stare as she spoke with you earlier. When she entertained your misled thoughts about the emails, was it merely façade?

After deliberating, only one conclusion seems most sensical to you. The orchestrator of it all has to be

Emi ✦ Kayama

#midnight smut #midnight x reader #nemuri kayama x reader #ms joke x reader #ms joke smut #emi fukukado x reader #ms joke #mha x gender neutral reader #pro hero x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

79 notes · View notes