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literary-illuminati · 11 months ago

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Book Review 68 - Babel by R. F. Kuang

Overview

I came to Babel with extremely little knowledge about the actual contents of the book but a deep sense of all the vibes swirling around its reception – that it was robbed of a Hugo nomination (if the author didn’t outright refuse it), that it’s probably the single buzziest and most Important sf/f release of 2022, that it was stridently political, and plenty more besides. I also went in having mostly enjoyed The Poppy War series and being absolutely enamoured by the elevator pitch of an alternate history Industrial Revolution where translation is literally magic. And, well-

It is wrong to say I hated this book, but only because keeping track of my complaints and starting organize this review in my head was entertaining enough to keep me invested in the reading experience.

The story is set in an alternate 1830s, where the rise of the British Empire relies upon the dominance of its translators, as it is the mixture of translation and silverworking, the inscription of match-pairs in different languages on bars of worked silver and the leveraging of the ambiguity and loss of meaning between them that fuels the world’s magic. The protagonist is pluckted from his childhood home in Canton after his family dies in a cholera outbreak and whisked away to the estate of Professor Lowell, an Oxford translator he quickly realized is his unacknowledged father. He’s made to choose an English name (Robin Swift) and raised and tutored as a future translator in service to the Empire.

The meat of the story is focused on Robin’s education in Oxford, his relationship with the rest of his cohort, and his growing radicalization and entanglement with the revolutionary Hermes Society. Things come to a head when in his fourth year the cohort is sent back to Canton to, well, help provoke the first Opium War, though none of them aware of that. The final act follows the fallout of that, by which I mean it lives up to the full title of “Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution”.

To be clear, this was technically a very accomplished book. The writing never dragged and the prose was, if not exactly lyrical, always clear and often evocative. Despite the breadth of space and time the story covers, I never had any complaints about the pacing – and honestly, the ending was, dramatically speaking, one of the more natural and well-executed ones I’ve read recently. It’s very well-constructed.

All that being said – allow me to apologize for how the rest of this is mostly just going to be a litany of complaints. But the book clearly believes itself to be an important and meaningful work of political art, which means I don’t feel particularly bad about holding it to high standards.

Narrative Voice

To start with, just, dear god the tone. This is a book with absolutely zero faith in its audience’s ability to reach their own conclusions, or even follow the symbolism and implication it lays down. Every important point is stated outright, repeated, and all but bolded and underlined. In this book set in 1830s England there are footnotes fact-checking the imperialists talking heads to, I guess, make sure we don’t accidentally become convinced by their apologia for the slave trade? Everything is just relentlessly didactic, in a way that ended up feeling rather insulting even when I agreed with the points Kuang was making.

More than that, and this is perhaps a more subjective complaint but – for an ostensible period piece, the narrative voice and perspective just felt intensely modern? This was theoretically an omniscient third person book, with the narrative voice being pretty distinct from any of the actual characters – with the result that the implicit narrator was instead the sort of person of spends six hours a day getting into arguments on twitter and for this effort calls themselves a progressive activist. The identities of all the characters – as delivered by the objective narration – were all very neat and legible from the perspective of someone at a 2022 HR department listing how diverse their team was, which was somewhere between a tragic lost opportunity to show how messy and historical racial/ethnic/national identities are and outright anachronistic, depending. (This was honestly one of the bigger disappointments, coming from Kuang’s earlier work. Say what you will of The Poppy War series, the narration is with Rin all the way down, and it trusts the reader enough not to blink.) More than that it was just distracting – the narration ended up feeling like an annoying obstacle between me and the story, and not in any fun postmodern way either.

Characters

Speaking of the cast – they simply do not sound or feel like they actually grew up in the 19th century. Now, some modernization of speech patterns and vocabulary and moral commensense is just the price of doing business with mass market period pieces, granted, but still – no 19th century Anglo-Indian revolutionary is going use the phrase ‘Narco-military state’ (if for no other reason than we’re something like a century early for ‘narco-state’ to be coined as a term at all). An even beyond feeling out of time most of the characters feel kind of thinly sketched?

Or no, it’s not that the characters are thinly sketched so much as their relationships are. We’re repeatedly, insistently told that these four students are fast friends and closer than family and would happily die for each other, but we’re very rarely actually shown it. This is partly just a causality of trying to skim over a four-year university education in the middle third of one book, I think, but still – the good times and happy moments are almost always sort of skimmed over, summarized in the course of a paragraph or two that usually talk in terms of memories and consequences more than the relationships themselves. The points of friction and the arguments, meanwhile, are usually played out entirely on the page, or at least described in much more detail. In the end you kind of have to just take it as read that any of these people actually love each other, given that at least two of them seem to be feuding at any given point for the entire time they know each other.

Letty deserves some special attention. She’s the only white member of Robin’s cohort at Babel and she honestly feels like less of acharacter and more a collection of tropes about white women in progressive spaces? Even more than the rest, it’s hard to believe the rest of the class views her as beloved ride-or-die found family when essentially every time she’s on screen it’s so she can do a microagression or a white fragility or something. Also, just – you know how relatively common it is to see just, blatantly misogynistic memes repackaged as anti-racist because it specifies ‘white women’? There’s a line in this that almost literally says ‘Letty wasn’t doing anything to disprove the stereotype of woman as uselessly emotional and hysteric’.

Also, she’s the one who ends up betraying the other three and trying to turn them in when they turn revolutionary. Which is probably inevitable given the book’s politics, but as it happened felt like less of the shocking betrayal that it was supposed to be and more just, checking off a box for a dramatic reverse. Of course she turned on them, none of them ever really seemed to even like each other.

As a Period Piece

So, the book is set in the 1830s, in the midst of the industrial revolution and its social fallout, and the leadup to the First Opium War (which is, through the magic of, well, magic ,but also mercantilist economics, make into a synecdoche for British global dominion more broadly). On the one hand, the setting is impeccably researched, recent and relevant historical events are referenced whenever they would come up, and the footnotes are full to bursting with quotes and explanations of texts or cultural ephemera that’s brought up in the narration.

On the other, the setting doesn’t feel authentic in the slightest, the portrayal of the British Empire is bizarrely inconsistent, and all that richly researched historical grounding ends up feeling less like a living world and more like a particularly well-down set for a Doctor Who episode.

The story is incredibly focused around Oxford as a city and a university. There’s a whole author’s note about the research and slight changes made into its geography and I absolutely believe its portrayal as a physical location and the laws about how women were treated and how the different colleges were organized and all that is exactly as accurate as Kuang wanted them to be. The issue is really the people. With the exception of a few cartoonish villains who barely get more than a couple pages apiece, no one feels, sounds like, or acts like they actually belong in the 19th century. The racism the protagonists struggle with all feels much more 21st century than Victorian, and the frame of mind everyone inhabits still comes across more as ‘unusually blatantly racist Englishman’ than 19th century scholars and polymaths.

This is especially blatant as far as religion goes. It’s occasionally mentioned, sure enough, but to the extent anyone actually believes in Christianity it’s of a very modern and disenchanted sort – this is a society that sends out missionaries as a conscious tool of colonial expansion, not because of anything as silly or absurd as actually wanting to spread their gospel. Also like, it’s Oxford, in the nineteenth century. For all the racism the protagonists have to deal with, they should be getting so much more shit from ‘well-meaning’ locals and students trying to save their (one Muslim, one atheist, one probably Christian but black and protective of Haitian Vodou on a cultural level which would be more than enough) souls.

Or, and this is more minor, it is a central conceit of the whole finale that if a few (like, two) determined revolutionaries can infiltrate Babel they’ll be able to take the entire place hostage with barely any trouble. This is because the students and professors there are, basically, whimpy bookworms who’ll faint at the sight of blood and have no stomach for the sort of violence their work actually supports and drives. Which – look, I really don’t want to defend the ruling class of Victorian Britain here, but I’m not sure physical cowardice is really one of their failings, as a group? I mean, there’s an entire system of institutionalized child abuse in the boarding schools they went to to get them used to taking and dealing out violence and abuse. Basically every upper-class sport is thinly disguised military drill or ritual combat (okay, or rowing). Half of them would graduate to immediately running off and invading places for the glory of the queen. I’m not sure two sleep-deprived nerds with knives would actually have been able to cow the crowd here, is what I’m saying. (This would stick out less if the text wasn’t so dripping with contempt for them on precisely these grounds.)

Much less minor are our heroic revolutionaries themselves. And okay, this is more a matter of taste than anything but like – the Hermes Society is an illegal conspiracy of renegade current and former Babel scholars dedicated to using their knowledge of magic and access to university resources to oppose and undermine the British Empire in general and the work of the school in particular. Think Metternich’s worse nightmare, but in Oxford instead of Paris and focused on colonial liberation (continental Europe barely exists for the purposes of the book, Britain is Empire.) So! A secret society of professional revolutionaries in the heydey of just that, with a name that just has to be Hermetic symbolism, who concern themselves with both high politics and metaphysics.

They are just so very, very boring. This is the age of the Conspiracy of the Equals, the Carbonari, the Seasons! The literal Illumanti are still within living memory! Where’s the pageantry, the ritual, the grandiosity? The elaborate initiation rituals and oaths of undying loyalty? They’re so pragmatic, so humble, so (and I know I keep coming back to this) modern. It’s just such an utter wasted opportunity. Even beyond the level of aesthetics, these are revolutionaries with remarkably little positive ideology – the oppose colonialism and racism for reasons they take as self-evident and so don’t feel the need to theorize about it (and talk about them with the vocabulary of a modern activist, because of course they do), but they’re pretty much consciously agnostic as to what world should look like instead. They vaguely end up supporting a sort of petty-bourgeois socialism (in the Marxist sense), but the alliance with Luddites is essentially political convenience – they really don’t seem to have any vision of the future at all, either in England or the various places they claim as homelands.

On Empire and Industrialization

The story is set during the early nineteenth century, so of course the Industrial Revolution is a pretty core part of the background. The Silver Industrial Revolution, technically, since the Babellers translation magic is in this world a key and load-bearing part of it. Despite the addition of miracle-working enhancers and supports to its fundamental technology, the industrial revolution plays out pretty identically to history – right down to the same cities becoming hubs of industry, despite steam engines using enchanted silver instead of coal and thus, presumably, the entire economic and logistical system that brought this particular cities to prominence being totally unrecognizable. This is not a book that’s in any way actually about tracing how something would change history – which isn’t a complaint, to be clear, that’s a perfectly valid creative choice.

It does, however, make it rather galling that the single actually significant difference to history is that the introduction of magic turns the industrial revolution into a Legend of Zelda boss with a giant glowing weak point you can hit to destroy the whole enterprise.

On a narrative level, I get it – it simplifies things and allows for a far happier and more dramatic ending if destroying Babel is not just a symbolic act but also literally sends London Bridge falling down and scuttles the entire royal navy and every mill and factory in Britain. It’s just that I think that by doing so it trades away any chance for actually making interesting commentary on anti-colonial and -capitalist resistance. A world where a single act of spectacular terrorism really can destroy a modern empire is frankly so detached from our world that it ceases to be able to really materially comment upon it.

Like, the principle reason to not take the Luddites as your role models is not that they were morally vicious but that they were doomed – capitalism’s ability to repair damage to infrastructure and fixed goods is legitimately very impressive! Trying to force an entire ruling class not to adopt a technology that makes whoever commits to it tremendous amounts of money (thus, power) is a herculean task even when you have a state apparatus and standing army – adding an ‘off’ button to the lot of it just trades all sense of relevance for a satisfyingly cathartic ending.

(This is leaving untouched how the book just takes it as a given that the industrial revolution was a strictly immiserating force that did nothing but redistribute money from artisans to capitalists. Which certainly tracks as something people at the time would have thought but given how resolutely modern all the other politics in the work are rings really weirdly.)

All of which is only my second biggest issue with how the book presents its successful resistance movement. It all pales in comparison to making the Empire a squeamish paper tiger.

Like, the book hates colonialism in general and the British Empire in particular, the narrative and footnotes are filled with little asides about various atrocities and injustices and just ways it was racist or complicit in some particular atrocity. But more than that it is contemptuous of it, it views the empire as (as the cliche goes) a perpetually rotting edifice that just needs one good kick; that it persists only through the myth of its own invincibility, and has no stomach for violent resistance from within. Which is absolutely absurd, and the book does seem to know it on occasion when it off-handedly mentions e.g. the Peterloo Massacre – but a character whose supposed to be the grizzled cynical pragmatic revolutionary still spouts off about how slave rebellions succeed because their masters aren’t willing to massacre their own property. Which is just so spectacularly wrong on every axis its actually almost offensive.

More importantly, the entire final act of the story relies upon the fact that the British Empire would allow a handful of foreign students seize control of a vital piece of infrastructure for weeks on end and do nothing but try to wait them out as the national physically falls apart around them. Like, c’mon, there would be siege artillery set up and taking shots by the end of week two. As with the Oxford students, the Victorian elite had all manner of flaws – take your pick, really – but squeamishness wasn’t really one of them.

On Magic

So the magical system underlying the whole story is – you know how Machinaries of Empire makes imperial ideology and metaphysics literally magical, giving expert technicians the ability to create superweapons and destroy worlds provided that the Hexarchate’s subjects observe the imperial calendar of rites and celebrate its triumphs/participate in rituals glorying in the torture of its ‘heretics’? It’s not exactly a subtle metaphor, but it works.

Babel does something similar, except the foundational atrocity fueling the engine of empire on a metaphysical level is, like, cultural appropriation. As an organizing metaphor, I find this less compelling.

Leaving that aside, the story makes translation literally capable of miracle-working – which of necessity requires making ‘languages’ distinct natural categories with observable metaphysical boundaries. It then sets the story in the 19th century – the era of newborn nation states and education systems and national literatures, where the concept of the national-linguistic community was the obsession of the entire European intelligentsia. Now this is not a book concerned with how the presence of magic would actually have changed history, in the slightest, but like – given how fascinated it is by translation and linguistics you’d think the whole ‘a language is a dialect with a navy’ cliché would at least get a light mention (but then the book doesn’t really treat language as any more inherent or natural than it does any other modern identity category, I suppose.)

As an Allegory

Okay, so having now spent an embarrassing number of words establishing to my own satisfaction that the book really doesn’t work at all as a period piece, let us consider; what if it wasn’t trying to be?

A great many things about the book just fit much better if you take it as a commentary on the modern university with Victorian window-dressing. Certainly the driving resentment of Oxford as an institution that sustains itself and grows rich off the exploitation of international students it considers second-class seems far more apt applied to contemporary elite western schools than 19th century ones. Likewise the racism the heroes face all seems like the kind you’d expect in a modern English town rather than a Victorian one. I’m not well-versed enough on the economics of the city to know for sure, but I would wager that the gleeful characterization of Oxford as a city that literally starts falling to ruin without the university to support it was also less accurate in the 1830s than it is today.

Read like this, everything coheres much better – but the most striking thing becomes the incredible vanity of the book. This is a morality tale where the natural revolutionary vanguard with the power to bring global hegemony to its knees through nothing but witholding their labour are..students at elite western universities (not, I must say, a class I’d consider in dire need of having their egos boosted). The emotions underlying everything make much more sense, but the plot itself becomes positively myopic.

Beyond that – if this is a story about international students at elite universities, it does a terrible job of actually portraying them. Or, properly, it only shows a certain type; just about every foreign-born student or professor we meet is some level of revolutionary, deeply opposed in principle to the empire they work within. No one is actually convinced by the carrot of a life as an exploited but exceedingly comfortable and well-compensated technician in the imperial core, and there’s not really acknowledgement at all of just how much of the apparatus of international institutions and governments in the global south – including positions with quite a bit of real power – end up being staffed by exactly that demographic who just sincerely agree with the various ideological projects employing them. Kuang makes it far too easy on herself by making just about every person of colour in the books one of the good guys, and totally undersells how convincing hegemonic ideology can be, basically.

The Necessity of Violence

This is a pet peeve and it’s a very minor thing that I really wouldn’t bring it up if that wasn’t literally part of the title. But it is, so – it’s a plot point that’s given a decent amount of attention that Griffin (Robin’s secret older brother, grizzled professional revolutionary, his introduction to anti-colonialism) is blamed for murdering one of his classmates who had the bad luck to be studying while he was sneaking in to steal some silver – a student that was quite well-loved by the faculty and her very successful classmates, who have never forgiven him. Later on, it’s revealed that this is an utter rewriting of history, and she’d been a double agent pretending to let herself be recruited into the Hermes Society who’d been luring Griffin into an ambush when he killed her and escaped.

This is – well, the most predictable not-even-a-twist imaginable, for one, but also – just rank cowardice. You titled the book ‘the necessity of violence’, the least you can do is actually own it and show that violent resistance means people (with faces, and names, not just abstractions only ever talked about in general terms) who are essentially personally innocent are going to end up collateral damage, and people are going to hold grudges about it. Have some courage in your convictions!

Translation

Okay, all of that said, this isn’t a book that’s wholly bad, or anything. In particular, you can really tell how much of a passion Kuang has for the art and science of translation. The depth of knowledge and eagerness to share just about overflows from the page whenever the book finds an excuse to talk about it at length, and it’s really very endearing. The philosophizing about translation was also as a rule much more interesting and nuanced then whenever the book tried to opine about high politics or revolutionary tactics.

Anyways, I really can’t recommend the book in any real way, but it did stick in my head for long enough that I’ve now written 4,000 words about it. So at the very least it’s the interesting sort of bad book, y’know?

#book review #babel #r. f. kuang #sff #lesbian space atrocities #-ish #hatermode

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thighguys · 8 days ago

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Phan Fic Recs #3!!

here is the requested long fic list! these are all 100k+, not all of them are finished (i didn't put any on here that aren't actively updating tho) and all of them are SO good so i hope you enjoy :)

Silver Arrows To The Heart by @evermorepeyton (137k WIP)- this one is a duplicate from the other list but there might be a few on here, ignore that<3 anyway this fic is AMAZING!!! dan and phil formula 1 drivers au- they're both on Mercedes and lots of awesome teammates to lovers hijinks ensue<3 this one gets a special shoutout for having some fantastic female characters (who are dare i say just as intriguing as dnp themselves?) and also bc the author is a beautiful human who i love<3 a super fun fic and very in character for both of them (somehow lmao, you wouldnt expect it with racecar drivers but somehow it works so well)

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) by kishere (123k)- imagine all the 2009 phan lore but if dan and phil were figure skaters. yep, it's a yuri on ice au where dan scores a spot in the famous Lester training gym and meets phil, who is one of the most well known figure skaters in england<3 fantastic fantastic fic, such perfect vibes and lots of great lester family cameos<3

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY! by @natigail (176k)- the final duplicate from the medium list<3 this fic is AMAZING!!!! this is the one that got me back into phanfic in general afterhaving not read any for about 6 years, it's a strictly come dancing au where phil is a hot pro dancer and dan is a celebrity/gay activist, and they accidentally become the first gay couple to compete in scd<3 FANTASTIC outfit and dance descriptions, i listened to all the songs while reading it and it was honestly so lovely i felt like i could see it so clearly<3 also- the lore references are AMAZING lol i felt like a pro every time i found a little easter egg. amazing fic, i HIGHLY recommend it<3

A Semester Abroad by @everything-is-as-it-was (162k WIP)- this one is really fun!! lots of domestic phouse vibes as it is about an american college student who gets stranded in England after a study abroad housing situation falls through and who gets accidentally taken in by these two random british guys with a REALLY weird house... sooo funny, it's really quite cute and i highly recommend giving it a read! I love outsider pov and this has an abundance of funny moments because dnp are Weird

Broke, Gay and New in Town by @natigail (347k)- do you want the softest, cutest, most magical and compelling story to ever exist??? literally look no further because right here is the dan and phil stardew valley au and it is SO CUTE!!! dan inherits a farm from his grandfather and decides to ditch his boring life to go and run it, and he has so many adventures along the way. oh yeah phil is there too and hes SO CUTE and they fall in love :3 seriously so cute, also you don't need stardew valley knowledge to enjoy this it is independently perfect (i have never played the game and actually learned what it was From this fic so ur good lol)

linger on by dizzy, waveydnp (184k)- this one is so so so sweet... non youtuber au where 33yo phil has been living with his parents, but when his dad dies his mom decides to sell the house and phil has to find somewhere new to live. so ofc he becomes roommates with some guy called dan, and ummm they fall in love? honestly they are SO perfect in this fic, i adore it<3 highly recommend

L'Histoire Française by danfanciesphil (105k)- suuuuper fun teachers au! phil is a history professor and dan is his TA. this fic is SO FUN!!!! genuinely adore it lol, it's one of the first phan fics i ever read and it has stayed with me forever<3

So Many Stars by transdimensional_void (152k)- another teachers au :) dnp meet when they both become english teachers at a school in japan and this is VERY cute <3

okay there's the list!! sorry this one is shorter than the others haha, there are too few long fics in the phandom :( but all of these are so so lovely and i hope you enjoy! lol some distractions may be needed during these trying times <3

#dan and phil #phan #dnp #phandom #dip and pip #phil lester #dan howell #dnpg #dapg #dan and phil games #phanfiction #phan fiction

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dyadicjustice · 1 year ago

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can u do like a hazelxreader best friends to lovers

like they’ve both been secretly in love with each other and pining for years but were too scared to say anything (and maybe smut if u write that but if not that’s totally good)

ooooh let me see what magic i can work, bestie. aged up the characters to be in college, so rockbridge falls high is now rockbridge university. unfortunately no smut this time because i am awful at it 😅 but i hope you enjoy this little blurb instead

ao3 link for if u prefer to read there :)

At 11:30, Professor G's class let out without anyone having learned anything actually in the syllabus. But for you, there wasn’t much room in your mind for history lessons anyway. You were too distracted by Hazel sitting next to you, scrolling on Twitter and excitedly showing you every adorable cat meme she came across.

You’d known each other since the 3rd grade, and it was safe to say that some things never change— especially not your love for one another as best friends. At least until the end of Senior Year, when you’d started to realize that change was inevitable, and you’d fallen hard for her.

You’d been overcompensating these past couple months. You’d purposely try to fly under the radar, so she wouldn’t notice you pining or the countless lingering looks and lip biting. Desperation was heavy in your bones, settled deep in your core. So when you finally return to your shared dorm, she asks, “Seriously y/n, it seems like you’re not even here most days. What’s going on?”

You know you can’t lie to her. You can’t lie to those dazzling grey eyes, so warm and sweet and sincere. So you sigh and admit, “Are you ready to receive some potentially devastating information that could change the state of our friendship forever?”

She blinks and lets out a quiet chuckle, “Uh, no promises, weirdo. What’s up?”

“Hazel, I’m being serious. It’s like... important,” you whine.

She hikes an eyebrow at your nervous demeanor, taking a beat to take in your features. She’s suddenly fully aware you’re uncomfortable when you start to wring your hands a bit. To calm your fidgeting, she slips her hands in between them and intertwines your fingers. You feel her sweet gesture start to soothe you, like when puppies snuggle up to you to help you stop crying.

She whispers, “What’s wrong, bean?”

Your eyes start to water at the nickname. “You have to promise you won’t get upset”, you choke out.

She wraps her arms around your neck in a comforting embrace, and whispers in your ear, “I promise. You can tell me, only if you’re comfortable and ready.” And her considerate nature makes you want to cave and sob right then and there.

“I love you, Hazel. But, I also… I just… I’m in love with you.” You can’t even meet her eyes out of pure embarrassment. You feel her fingers snake beneath your chin, and she gently tugs until you’re looking into her eyes. She stares into yours, into your soul, really. She whispers, “y/f/n, I’ve been dreaming of hearing you say that for years.” You both giggle. You joke, “That’s such a fucking relief because I would’ve shat myself if you rejected me.”

“I could never reject you, bean! Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “But I am curious, when did you realize you felt that way?”

You sigh, “Honestly? I knew I was sure when we went to Senior Prom together, so 6 months maybe? But I also would say, I’d felt something since we were like 10. I just hadn’t realized how deep my love was back then.”

Hazel murmurs, “You made Prom Night so magical. You looked lovely. Not to mention, you just had this magnetism to you that had everybody staring. I was fighting the urge to kiss you the entire evening. It was hardest during the slow dance.”

You admit that you had felt similarly, explaining, “It was hardest for me to resist when you had that little bit of whipped cream stuck on your lip when we went to Denny’s after. I wiped it away with a napkin, but I wish I’d just gone for it.”

You stare up at her lovingly as a subtle silence emerges between you, your eyes scanning her features before dropping to her lips. Without saying a word, you crash your lips together. Hers taste like… well, like nothing and like everything at the same time. Just chapstick and love.

And it’s not your first time kissing a girl by any means, But you can already tell it’s your favorite after only ten seconds.

Hazel pulls away, breathless, “So just to be clear, what does this make you and me?” She smirks.

You hold her cheek with one hand and hook the other around the back of her neck, scratching the back of her head. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes flutter. You reply, “Horny, Hazel. It makes us really fucking horny.”

She smirks, “Maybe we should… do something about that. Your place or mine?” She dopily wiggles her eyebrows. It’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that your beds are just feet away from each other.

You shoot back, giggling, “Yours. I don’t wanna fuck up my sheets right now.”

She scoops you up bridal style and sets you down on her bed. Those months of pre-season training for rugby had made her insanely strong despite her short and lean figure.

She kisses your forehead and replies, “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms (2023)#bottoms movie #bottoms 2023

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rosaharazu · 5 months ago

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Merlin Mysteries

This is the most genius title, I swear you guys, Im so proud of it.

Anyways....Magister Merlin.

First off, let's just appreciate the premise given to them.

A powerful, well-respected, legendary mage for as long as history can remember. But the twist is...they're amnesic. I think it's such a high stepping stone in making AFK Journey's MC a standout to other MC's of games alike.

Thanks to that, we aren't even Merlin's actual form, hence being able to customize our character to our liking as Merlin is using disguising spells.

But let's see their past shall we. Second:

So like, have you ever looked at the very tiny text at the bottom whenever you load into the game? There are like, two things about Merlin. I'm sure someone else has pointed these out, but I'll list it anyways. (i think there's three, but I've seen to have forgotten the third one and I ain't checking it out)

Merlin harnessed the leftovers of powers from the War and named it 'magic'.

Merlin was a part of the council in discussing terms of after the Immortal War.

So from this....Merlin may or may not be immortal themselves. Or, if we take a look at the opening sequence of the game, someone pointed out that Merlin may be reincarnated throughout time over and over again. Someone on youtube even thought Merlin could be a hypogean.

If that's the case...it's really tragic.

Merlin is a...wait, lemme check from AFK Arena. WAIT-DIMENSIONALS WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!

There's also a huge plot in Arena's Merlin, but none of this makes sense to me. Let's ignore that~ O-O

Furthermore, whatever they are...they must be immortal or something like that. And that's harsh.

You know that one storyteller in Holistone? He describes Merlin as, some feared them, some respected, but their journey is a lonely one. That's just...implies that Merlin's missing something.

I'd like it if Merlin's quote is, "I feel like I'm missing something."

I'm in Remnant Peaks, and like, I have two more areas to go. It may or may not have something to do with Merlin, so as of I'm writing this, I have no idea.

Third. Now, what I would like to write is....Merlin's relationships.

I mean, yeah, you can ship them with Valen, Mirael, and so on. But...considering Merlin's possibility of being immortal, it would be sad really.

I feel like Merlin won't engage in romantic relationships because they know so well that her partner won't be able to stay as long as they do. Maybe that's why she has Chippy and Hammie by her side, which I searched up, that familiars live as long as their masters live.

I'd like to think that Merlin chose familiars to love, and while it's only platonically, I think that love is the most special thing to have for Merlin. Because at the very least, Merlin won't have to wake up one day and find that their familiars are gone.

Maybe she's lost a loved one before, and over and over again, and they're traumatized by it. You know, at this point you can just assume I'm talking about my version of Merlin.

Even if Merlin were to engage romantically, they would probably sought for immortals like them, hence Celestials or...Hypogeans, maybe. (for me at least)

(I mean, Wilders and Maulers also probably live for hundreds of years, but they still die- WHY IS THE LIFESPAN AND TIMELINE SO CONFUSING?!)

The idea of Merlin not wanting to lose their partner is kinda engraved in my mind and you can't stop me.

What I'm saying is, Merlin has done so many things over the years. Being recognized as Esperia's greatest mage. One of the professors at Casseedee's Academy. Their stories go all over the lands....

and in return....

Merlin lost something more valuable. Possibly their mortality and memories. I dead set that Merlin may have traded those in order to become the most powerful, and before they know it....they've lost quite a lot.

And as of present day, Merlin forgets again and again, and deep inside them, an immense sense of regret, longing, lost and hopelessness. So they try to focus on the present, and the people around them.

You know, it would be nice if Merlin's amnestic side is shown sometimes, but I guess that's too much work. Oh well. Would be a little interesting, though. Like, maybe more of Chippy and Hammie comforting us. Yes, please. I'd like that.

Man...the game started a few months ago, so Merlin's lore isn't exactly much...why did I even do this...?

Thanks for your time! Have a lovely day!

#afk journey #afk journey merlin #magister merlin #have a lovely day #i love my merlin you guys have no idea #i feel like its better if this was a commentary video #but i have no knowledge in video making whatsoever #byeeeeeeeeee

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redheadspark · 6 months ago

Text

Trust Me?

Summary - The Female MC takes Ominis flying, stirring his feelings for her all the more

Warnings - Just cute fluff :)

A/N - I wanted to write a cute one-shot of Ominis! I loved him in the game and how great he was as a character, he doesn't get enough love! I might even add him to the character I write for in my Prompt Sessions! Let me know what you think!

"You can't be serious,"

"What makes you think I'm joking?"

"Given our history with Sebastian, let alone your friendship with Garreth Weasley…"

You had to roll your eyes as you stood in front of Ominis, who had his face filled with judgment. Your broom was waiting for you on the ground by your foot, the crisp and damn grass under your feet while the cooler Autumn air was cascading down into the Quidditch Pitch where you two were. With the weather being more than tolerable, plenty of students were out of the castle and enjoying the cool air before it would get too chilly. It was a great day for you to get some flying in, given the upcoming games that were on schedule the following weekend and your team was climbing up the ranks. It was going to be your best year, you felt it in your fingers as the Hufflepuff Captain and one of the Beaters.

Your seventh year at Hogwarts was not as adventurous or as deadly as it was when you arrived as a fifth year, yet you liked it that way. Compared to your first year, your sixth year was more mundane and boring so to speak. The Ancient Magic you had as toned down a bit and the mystery that you solved deep underneath the castle was now contained thanks to the Ministry of Magic, along with the professors at Hogwarts, leaving you to simply focus on your schooling and friendships.

Yet, things were not the same. You seemed lost without Professor Fig, his guidance and mentorship were something you missed from time to time when roaming the halls or attending classes. Not to mention the strained friendship with Sebastian, who was still eating away in grief after what happened to his Uncle, and the now diminished relationship with his sister. He became more of a shell within himself, not the bright and smart Slytherin you met.

However, your other friendships tried, especially with Ominis. You both leaned on each other after Sebastian's downfall, the pair of you realizing that the solid friendship you had with him no longer existed. Ominis lost his best friend, giving him a broken heart so to speak and it gave him a hardened shell. But you both remained friends, walking to and from class together, studying with one another in the library to pass the tedious potions exams, and even taking strolls together along the grounds. It was a friendship you never thought would truly blossom.

Ominis still had his sarcasm and snarky jokes, which would make you laugh from time to time when you were sad or uneasy. He knew you had a lot to carry yourself, plenty of bad memories and nightmares from your fifth year, and the invisible scars that would haunt you sporadically. He was a good shoulder to lean on, not minding in the slightest when you wished to vent to him or express your pain. Ominis knew all that happened your first year, you leaving no detail out with him.

You trusted Ominis, more than you ever trusted anyone at that school.

Now, on a clear Autumn afternoon, you were attempting to take him flying. And of course, being the true Slytherin that he was, he was not budging.

"You make it seem as if I will let you get hurt while we fly," you challenged him, his misted grey eyes snarking as he chuckled.

"I don't trust our school brooms and the recent history of quidditch injuries, pity your broom is under maintenance in Hogsmeade," he explained, you chuckling as he was still not swayed in going on the broom with you.

"I have a clean flying record if you must know! I wouldn't let you get hurt, Ominis. Don't you trust me?" You asked playfully. You didn't realize that a single sentence struck a chord in Ominis. Not in a bad way, but in a way of remembrance. He heard that time and time again in your younger years, from his former best friend. His trust was always placed in Sebastian's hands, and it would either be altered or shattered. The last time he trusted his old friend, he almost lost him.

Yet you were different. Though you were trying to help Sebastian in finding his way again, you never broke Ominis's trust in you. He never felt It waver or severe even, to which he knew he could trust you more than others in his life. It was hard for him to lean on another person outside of his family, his cruel and dark family. You seemed to be a light to him, a warm light, something he was used to for the longest time.

That warmth and light morphed into a crush, something Ominis swore he would take to the grave.

"You know I trust you," Ominis reasoned, yet he could tell you were rolling your eyes with him as you then flicked out your hand and gave a tug of your wrist. The broom shot up into your palm within a flash.

"Then get on the bloody broom," You replied, Ominis could hear the small snark in your tone as you swung your leg over the broom, legs slightly bent and one hand gripping the broom. Your other hand hung at your side, waiting for some kind of signal from your friend if he was going to come with you. You knew Ominis would be set in his ways, a little harder to budge. But he was also no wallflower, not entirely.

You were surprised to see him reach out his hand in your direction, a smile breaking out on your lips.

You took his hand in yours, tugging him gently to walk over to where the broom was. It came to his thigh, to which you lowered the broom to have him tentatively step over. He did it with some reluctance, now sitting behind you as you recentered yourself on the broomstick. Feeling his body heat behind you, through the sweater you were wearing and his blazer, you felt your stomach do a little tumble.

"Ready?" You asked, looking your shoulder at his face. His eyes looked petrified, though they shined in the sun as he nodded his head rapidly. You reached to take his hand to place along your waist, feeling him freeze up for a moment as his fingers danced along your sweater, "Hang on, Ominis,"

You kicked off, the broom making you two hover over the ground only by a foot or two as Ominis clung onto you for dear life with his arms around your waist in a death grip. It made you smile, sensing his worries and fears but still willing to get on a broom because it was you. The friendship you two built together, the long talks and moments together simply make your bond together just as strong if not stronger.

You moved a bit higher now, both pairs of feet dangling as you were getting your sense of gravity back together. The wind licking your face and the cool rush heard in your ears as Ominis was leaning against your back. Once again you felt his body heat, thou it was a bit stronger now as his face was against your shoulder blade, facing out into the pitch as you placed your feet up and under the broom.

"Ready?" You asked, feeling him nod his head against your shoulder, "I'll go around the pitch for now, just for you to get used to it,"

"I'm already regretting this," He mumbled against your sweater as you started moving forward a bit, very slow, and bit barely any force. As much as you wanted to pull his leg and start flying at top speed, you also were being considerate of Ominis and his comfort. Not that he was against Quidditch, but he loved hearing all about your matches and even attended a few to show support for his house. But he would rather be stable and on the ground, such a contrast to you. You were used to flying at top speed, speeding along the quidditch pitch and even outside the ground when you could get away with it.

"Alright, here we go," You voiced, dipping the broom slightly to make your way forward. Although you were flying nice and slow, you were still hesitant since you felt Ominis clinging to you. But you weren't hearing him tell you to land, nor were you hearing the fear in his voice or his breath. He was rather calm and collected, his grip on your waist still consistent. The last thing you wanted to do was spook him, though you were trying to clear your cluttered mind in how close he was against your back and his arm still around your waist.

"We just did a loop around the pitch," You informed him as you moved around the curve that was behind the goalposts, "How are you doing back there?"

A pause hung in the air, and then a voice was heard, "It's…it's not as bad. Are we very high up?"

You had to smile, hearing the small amount of hope in his tone. It was such a contrast to how he sounded before he got on the broom. Now, he sounded a bit calmer…almost a peace in a way.

"Shall I describe it all to you?" You asked him, feeling him nod his head against your shoulder as you took in a long breath, "We're about 30 feet now, facing the school. You should see the school with the sun in the windows…it's breathtaking,"

You saw all the stained glass windows shining in the sunlight as the sun was getting lower in the sky. The red and gold in the Gryffindor tower windows to the left, some of the glimmer of the Great Hall windows that brought sparkle and color. It took your breath away, inwardly wishing that Ominis could at least see what you were experiencing.

"Breathtaking?" Ominis questioned, his voice sounding unsure as he could hear it in your voice: the softness, the gentleness that almost seemed like bells to his ears. He always loved the way your voice sounded, nothing harsh or gritty, nor was it too light like air. It was the right balance, and he was someone who would prefer balance over chaos.

Of course, you would be the one to shake up his balance of life.

"The Gryffindor tower windows….the red stain glass windows look like rubies! And the Great Hall windows, it's like the reflection of the water in the lake. So many colors….it's swirled together like a painting,"

"You mean….like those muggle toys that muggle children look through with one eye? Like a telescope?" Omimis asked in curiosity. You giggled.

"I think you're talking about a Kaleidoscope," You commented, "But yes, just like a Kaleidoscope. It's beautiful,"

Ominis could picture it in his mind, the swirls of colors along the windows and the light touching out from the school onto the grounds with ease. Just the way you described it to him alone made it memorable to him. He was used to others describing things to him, actions and whatnot so that he wasn't feeling left out. He never minded it, it was something he was used to all his life since he was born blind.

Yet, this was different, very different. He could see it clearly in his mind as you described more of the castle and still flew around the pitch, still keeping at a steady pace. He could see it all: the Ravenclaw Tower and how it stretched out to the sky with ease, the boathouse on the top of the lake that seemed so secluded with the ripping waters around it, even the grassy plains near the Magical Beasts area where the Beast corals were. You left no detail out with him, which warmed his heart all the more as his fears and insecurities melted away.

He's listened to so many voices in his lifetime and he knew them all my heart: the sternest of his father, the bitterness and cold demeanor of his mother, the light and yet broken tone of Sebastian, the once calm and gentle tone of Anne. Ominis knew to listen beyond the voice, to sense the person behind it and what they were about. If they were good, if they had intentions that lead in the right direction.

With you, he felt something else.

He sensed a lot of things: stubbornness in wanting to do what was right, tenderness in helping those who truly needed the help, sarcasm when facing a foe. But most importantly, he sensed love.

Love, from what he knew, was a fleeting feeling. Apart from his Aunt, he rarely felt it himself. Not that he never loved his parents or the life he had because of the privilege handed to him. But it was different with his family, even different from his best friend. The love he felt in you, heard in you, seemed organic. Like roots to a new plant that was taking to the soil and not letting go. Or the river banks in the early morning, already roaring with life with no signs of stopping.

He felt love with you, and it both scared him and entranced him at the same time.

After a few more minutes of you telling him all you were seeing, you landed back on the ground with ease now since Ominis was smiling from ear to ear. You both dismounted, Ominis shifting a bit on his feet a bit uncomfortably as you smiled at him, "We should head to dinner before we get caught out here,"

"You're right, I don't want you to get in trouble," Ominis reasoned, and as you were about to walk and head over to the opening that led out of the pitch, he stopped you and took your hand in his. You felt the gentle touch of his fingers along yours as if he was afraid to grip you too hard and inflict you pain. It made you freeze, watching him now as he cleared his throat. Even the grey mist in his eyes seemed lighter now than they were before you mounted the broom together.

"Thank you, for doing that for me," He thanked, his voice light and tender. You squeezed your fingers together gently, like a pulse.

"Of course, Ominis. I enjoyed it very much," You explained, and you were telling the truth.

"As did I," he added in agreement. And for some reason, neither one of you wanted to let go of the other. It felt like a seal, a new seal that was already made new and strong enough to not be bent or broken.

So you both held on, walking back to the castle hand in hand. It would be a story you would think back years later on your wedding day, and when your first son was born 3 years after that too.

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt x mc #fanfiction #writing #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x y/n #hp #hp fandom #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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wastelandmoony · 2 years ago

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire

Characters: Sebastian Sallow x Reader/f!MC

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was many things: your dueling partner, former friend, object of your secret desire. But most of all, he was a pain in your ass.

Going practically M.I.A. since the Battle of the Repository, you hadn't spoken or seen him since the end of your fifth year. As a new school year begins, you'll need to come to terms with his overbearing presence around the castle...and his new relationship.

Warnings: language, allusions to smut, mild violence?

Word Count: 6K+ (oopsie)

A/N: This idiot has been living rent free in my brain for over a month. After finishing the game and being less than enthused by the culmination of his storyline, here we are.

Sebastian Sallow Playlist

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The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement; the electricity crackling through the air was palpable. September 1st was always an exhilarating day, but this year even more so. The promise of a new school year, a new start; the feeling was invigorating. After the events of last year everyone was in an elevated state of elation to be back amongst friends, nestled within the fortified stone walls of the castle that had become home to them all.

As you strode through the large oak doors, the empty seat amongst the faculty table shot a dagger straight through your heart. From the dais, Professor Hecat wore a small sympathetic smile, one reserved specifically for you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shook off the visions of Professor Fig, of the faces currently staring back at you fighting alongside underneath the castle. You weren’t unsure what sort of unseen force was propelling you forward, subconsciously managing to make it to the Hufflepuff table.

For being as tiny as she was, Poppy practically body slammed you onto the floor with the velocity of her hug. Though the two of you had kept in touch over the summer, you hadn’t seen her in person since last year.

You hadn’t seen anyone since leaving Hogwarts in June.

Last Spring had been a bit of a blur. After defeating Ranrok in the bowels of the castle, your body had shut down, completely going into autopilot as you navigated the remainder of 5th year. Classes had resumed like nothing had happened, but the whispers around the school eventually changed to shouts, and everyone became fully aware of how close they (and the rest of the Wizarding world) had come to complete destruction. Word quickly spread of your unique abilities, and how you were able to defeat one of the strongest uses of ancient magic known to history. The notoriety was overwhelming, and frankly uncomfortable. So much had been lost, and you didn’t have the strength to put on a happy face for all of the well-wishers and nosy students that pestered with questions in the halls.

Once the snow melted and the Scottish Highlands were beginning to bloom with color, a ceremony was held in the Great Hall, including a memorial for those lost. Headmaster Black requested you speak in honor of Professor Fig, but the thought made you violently ill. How do you sum up the life of a man that took you in when no one else would? Who taught you about the special powers that laid dormant inside your soul? The man who fought beside you until the very end?

Professor Weasley took over the task, understanding the desperate look in your eyes when you had asked. She had taken to watching over you in Fig’s absence, scheduling weekly tea times to check in on your wellbeing. She was the lifeline you needed, but frankly not the one you wanted.

Poppy stuck by your side for the remainder of the year, trying her best to keep your mind off the trauma of everything. But she wasn’t there when you were asleep; she couldn’t keep the nightmares away. The screams were the worst, echoing in your subconscious with no escape until you woke up violently thrashing. You heard Ranrok’s cold laughter; the crack of dark magic; the screams of your friends.

You heard Sebastian.

You heard Anne’s scream.

When you woke, a flash of blinding green light shot across your vision each time, one single phrase playing over and over: “I had to do it—“

The greed in Sebastian’s voice plagued you, long gone was your cheeky dueling partner from Crossed Wands, the one that confided his darkest secrets while exploring hidden rooms throughout the school. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the memorial ceremony, he had all but become a ghost. Occasionally you’d see him in the halls, walking with a dead-eyed stare that never seemed to land on you. Ominis kept you informed about Anne; she wasn’t speaking to Sebastian, going as far as to banish him from attending their uncles funeral altogether. According to his best friend, the news didn’t surprise him in the slightest, but the lack of communication with Anne was eating Sebastian alive.

You tried to forget about your former friend, the one that you had lost to the lure and power of dark magic. Regardless of his original intentions, Sebastian had strayed too far from the help he had set out to find. You weren’t innocent in this either, utilizing dark magic throughout the struggle to defeat Ranrok. The difference was, that you knew when and where to use it, Sebastian was drunk on the power.

Ominis kept in touch over the summer, writing occasionally to check-in and talk about your respective breaks and desire to be back at school. He never mentioned Sebastian in his letters, a deliberate choice and something that you were grateful for.

You hadn’t been excited to leave Hogwarts, with nothing and no one to go home to. Professor Fig was the only guardian figure you’d ever known, having been the one that retrieved you from the group home in London over a year ago. You refused to go back there, to the never-ending list of asinine rules and an overbearing matron hell-bent on keeping an oppressive eye on your every move, so in exchange for working at the Three Broomsticks you were able to rent a room for free from Sirona until September. She understood better than most what you had been through, and also knew that no one else would possibly rent to an underage witch with little to no means of supporting herself. When you weren’t picking up shifts in the pub, the massive amount of books you’d amassed kept your mind occupied. Even after cramming all year and having multiple professors offer extra assignments, you still felt behind. Any free time was spent pouring over ancient spell texts and potion recipes, eager to come back to school feeling confident in your abilities as a 6th year witch (and not as the hero you had been portrayed as by everyone else).

———

As you sat down with Poppy at the Hufflepuff table, you were greeted loudly by a few other housemates, their welcoming nature warming your heart. After the opening remarks from Headmaster Black and the sorting ceremony, the feast commenced with the entire hall erupting into the boisterous sounds of students laughing and reacquainting.

Taking a sip of pumpkin juice, you were suddenly startled by two cold hands covering your eyes.

“Guess who—“ a low voice sounded in your ear.

“Ominis!” You whipped your head around to see his sly grin as he sat beside you on the bench. Without hesitation, you embraced him, wrapping both arms around his thin shoulders, “I’ve missed you.”

You felt him smile against your shoulder, “Likewise—how was the rest of your summer?”

“Uneventful…thankfully,” you laughed, pulling back from him, “How about yours?”

Ominis shrugged, “Nothing grand, I did visit Anne a few weeks ago though.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! How is she?”

“She’s doing well…at least, as well as can be expected…” he trailed off, and she knew it was because there was more to the story. His milky eyes traveled over in the direction of the Slytherin table briefly, hers following on instinct.

He came into sight almost immediately, you’d recognize those freckles anywhere. He was laughing at something, a true, jovial laugh that you hadn’t heard since Crossed Wands. Even from three tables over, you could pick it out of the crowd; the sound igniting the very blood in your veins. Sebastian’s eyes creased as the laughter died into a genuine smile; he looked good, he looked—happy. You watch as he leans over and places a kiss on the cheek of—wait.

“Imelda?!” You choked, forcing your mouth closed to avoid looking like a heartbroken sod. The fire that his laugh had set was now turning into a thick sludge in your gut, bubbling and seeping into the very essence of your being.

Ominis cringed, turning towards you with visible sympathy written on his pale face, “Yes, they began seeing each other over the summer. It’s been…rather insufferable if I’m honest.”

You shook your head, unwilling to believe the sight in front of you. Out of everyone at Hogwarts, he had to choose her? Imelda was insufferable on the best of days; brash, loud, and incredibly boastful, she was the antithesis of yourself—maybe that’s why Sebastian liked her.

“How…?” Your attention was pulled back to Ominis, brows furrowed as your lungs constricted.

He shrugged again and shook his head in disbelief, “After everything that happened, he became distant as you well know, he barely spoke to me even. Imelda, being a fellow Slytherin, is incredibly ambitious and when she sets her mind on something, there’s nothing that will stop her. She saw a lonely, lost boy in need of guidance and support, and she struck.”

The room was beginning to spin.

You’d be lying if you said the feelings you harbored for Sebastian didn’t exist. The two of you had been through unspeakable things together, leaning on each other through it all, until he decided to take a path you couldn’t follow. Even after everything, he was still your Sebastian, and the hope that one day he would come around stuck firmly in your heart. You loved him, more than just as a friend and dueling partner.

You were in love with Sebastian Sallow, you had been for a while.

Eventually, Ominis returned to his house table, promising to meet again the following morning for breakfast to compare timetables. You glanced over as he sat back down amongst his fellow Snakes, and were caught in the unwavering stare that Sebastian had set directly on you. Averting your eyes as a deep blush creeped up your cheeks, the thought of sinking through the flagstone floor seemed very appealing. That wasn’t an accidental glance, he was fixated on you; eyes boring into yours while he sat beside his girlfriend. The expression on his face was unreadable, something you’d ruminate on later.

The moment Professor Black dismissed the houses, you sprinted to your dorm, eager to be as far away from Sebastian Sallow as physically possible.

———

The timetable for this term wasn’t awful; you had been able to choose which classes to pursue in accordance with which career path you planned on taking after Hogwarts, swapping the least attractive (a.k.a. impossibly boring and rather useless) courses for more riveting subject matter. After witnessing the corruption and insolence displayed by Officer Singer and her colleagues last year, becoming a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the only logical path for you. The overarching desire to create fundamental change department-wide, and actually be able to help citizens and prevent unspeakable tragedies, consumed you. Poppy had tried to convince you to pursue a career in the Department of Magical Creatures like her; something that did in fact greatly interest you, ultimately pacifying her by taking another year of Beasts classes. The one course you were looking forward to, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, was going to be a struggle.

It was the one class you shared with Sebastian.

Professor Hecat was a welcome sight, smiling at you as she walked towards the front of the classroom.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to another year of Defense Against the Dark Arts! At this point in your academic journey, you should be well versed in most defensive spellwork, including protective shields and disarming maneuvers. Let’s do a little ‘welcome back’ warm-up, shall we?” Her eyes swept over the room, the majority of students returning eager expressions.

“I’ll split you all into pairs, line up on either side of the classroom and begin trying to disarm your partner,” Professor Hecat began to rattle off names, and the further she ran through the roster, the lower your stomach sank. Gaze falling to the floor as she called your last name, you knew exactly what was about to follow.

“—and Sallow. Have at it!” She motioned for the start of the duels.

You slowly pushed the chair back, refusing to even look in his general direction as you lined up against the wall.

It’s just a duel, you’ve done it a million times.

Picture him as just another foe.

Taking to the proper stance, you exhale slowly, trying to welcome in any semblance of calm. Finally looking up at your partner, his gaze was already glued to you. The vacant eyes that you saw last year were gone, replaced by the original brown, cozy warmth you had fallen in love with. It should’ve made you happy, the fact that he seemed to be doing better (at least on the outside), but all you felt was your heart sinking into your stomach. Sebastian raised his wand and narrowed his eyes, a look you knew all too well from fighting alongside him last year. He knew your exact style of dueling, he was your partner from the beginning, your right hand man; a fact that would only work to your detriment.

“Expelliarmus!” You flicked your wand towards him, a spark of exhilaration shooting up your arm.

“Protego,“ he growled, casting an immediate shield and blocking your test shot. The timber of his voice gave you goosebumps, it had been so long since you’d heard it. The two of you watched each other intensely, the air around you thick with everything unsaid.

“Stupefy—“ he shot back. You expertly dodged the stun and instantly cast another disarming spell. It hit Sebastian in the arm, wand leaping out of his hand, only to be quickly grabbed mid-air before it could be lost entirely.

“Shit…” you whispered under your breath, trying to think of another game plan.

He smirked as you repositioned yourself, “You’re rusty.”

You shot an angry look in his direction, shooting an even quicker levitation spell that he avoided with a shrug of his shoulder.

“Oh come on, I know you can do better than that,” he sent a stinging hex your way, something you both knew wasn’t allowed in Professor Hecat’s classroom.

“What’re you playing at?” You threw both hands out in disbelief, while Sebastian grinned. He was doing this on purpose, he wanted to get a rise out of you.

Sticking to Hecat’s dueling rules, you sent a quick succession of spells forward, mixing both disarming and stunning, knowing that Sebastian lacked the speed to block each one. To your surprise, he managed to avoid them (you briefly wondered who he’d been practicing with), casting a perfect protego shield and firing another fierce stupefy in your direction followed by one single bolt of confringo.

The heat of the blast burned as it shot past your head, making you gasp at the aggression. Snapping your head around, he had a shit eating grin on his smug face.

“What’s wrong? Hogwarts’ Golden Girl doesn’t want to fight back?”

“Fuck you, Sallow!” You spit, casting depulso and throwing him backwards into the wall.

As his body slammed into the stone, Professor Hecate yelling your name out.

“—DETENTION. MR. SALLOW, YOU AS WELL!”

As Sebastian sat against the wall, rubbing the back of his (now bruised) head, you quickly snatched your bag off the floor and stalked out of class early before saying something regretful.

———

Ominis had found out about the incident in Defense class later that same day, the entire school was talking about the former friends turned bitter enemies. He was less than amused by the outburst on both of your parts, chastising you for losing your ‘sense of decorum and grace at Sebastian’s childish antics’.

“You can’t let him get to you,” Ominis shook his head as he sat down with you and Poppy in the Great Hall for lunch.

Letting out an exasperating groan, you buried your head in your hands, “I know, I know. I’m not sure what came over me…”

Poppy and Ominis began to chat about their shared Charms class while you ate in silence, trying to keep your thoughts from reverting back to the tiny spark of mischief you saw in Sebastian’s eyes earlier, or how you wanted to trace every single freckle on his face—no. Stop it.

“—want to check out the newborn Kneazles that Professor Howin told me about after lunch?” Poppy chimed, looking at you eagerly over her sandwich.

It snapped you out of the daze, “Oh? Oh! Sorry, I can’t—quidditch try-outs are this afternoon.”

“You’re trying out for the team?” Poppy sat up straighter in excitement.

You nodded, taking another bite of food.

“Good for you,” Ominis nudged your arm gently, “from what I’ve heard, you’re a pretty exceptional flyer.”

Blushing, you pushed him back playfully with your elbow, “Thanks, I guess we’ll see how I fare on the quidditch pitch though.”

———

Later that day, you sat mid-air on your broom in the warm September breeze, inhaling the early scents of oncoming autumn. The trees of the Forbidden Forrest rustled just off the side of the pitch, a grouping of Jobberknolls cresting over the tops. All four houses were holding try-outs simultaneously, organizing short scrimmages of inter-house players both prospective and permanent. So far, you were one of the strongest contenders from any of them.

Except for one.

Imelda turned the pitch into her own personal showcase, making an extra effort to show off for anyone watching; anyone, including a specific Slytherin 6th year in the stands below. You had flown low over the spectators earlier in order to avoid an incoming bludger, noticing Ominis seated next to your former partner-in-crime. As you looped around, you caught Sebastian’s brown eyes fixed on you, muttering something to your mutual friend beside him.

Another Hufflepuff hopeful named Charlie thew the quaffle to you, signaling a turn to traverse through the other players and attempt to score. Weaving, diving, and dodging through the multitude of brooms, the bronze goalposts were within range; that’s when you saw a flash of green descend rapidly in front of you, blocking the path to victory. Imelda smirked, swaying as you attempted to maneuver around. She was fast and knew this game like the back of her hand, something you were already keenly aware of.

Suddenly she shot forward, kicking roughly with her boot to try and knock the quaffle out from under your arm. Making contact with your elbow, you wince at the pain, narrowing your eyes at her sinister grin. The sight of her kissing Sebastian in the Great Hall flashed before your eyes, mocking you.

Imelda pulled back and lined up to charge again. To the right, you saw a Hufflepuff beater square up with an incoming bludger. You whistled to get their attention, signaling with your eyes to help out. They smacked the bludger in your direction, and you quickly spun to hit it with the tail of your broom, redirecting it straight at Imelda. It made contact with her ribs, knocking her off the broom and sending her careening towards the ground.

Madam Kogawa shouted from the field below, “ARRESTO MOMENTUM!”

Upon seeing the interference, you rocketed towards the goal posts, tossing the quaffle through the ring effortlessly. As the Hufflepuff captain flew over to congratulate you, your eyes focused on Imelda being carted off to the hospital wing below, Sebastian following close behind.

———

On Friday night, you trudged to the Defense Against the Darks tower for detention. The thought of spending an entire night doing mindless tasks beside Sebastian made you want to vomit. All of this was his fault: the detention, the animosity, the…feelings. Everything could have been avoided if he wasn’t such an insufferable little twat.

Turning the corner, you saw him leaning outside of Professor Hecat’s door, arms crossed over his chest. Even alone he looks utterly smug and pretentious, though the words crossed your mind, your stomach (which had now suddenly taken on the form of a dozen angry billywigs) had a differing opinion. Upon hearing your footsteps, his eyes snap up, features softening slightly as you drew closer. Completely ignoring his presence (and absolutely stupid looking smirk), you breezed past through the open door. You heard him follow behind, shutting the heavy wooden door as Professor Hecat looked up from her desk.

“Good evening,” she said calmly, “as your punishment for using aggressive spells during a non-offensive lesson, you will each be writing an essay on how to best defend yourself against three types of beasts, each one without using a single attack spell.”

Sebastian groaned from the back of the room, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at his typical dramatics.

Taking a seat close to Professor Hecat’s desk, you got to work outlining your main points. Dugbogs, Acromantulas, and Mongrels; three beasts you were (unfortunately) very familiar with. Luckily, your combat experience with numerous different magical creatures enabled the essay to practically write itself. Across the room, the sound of Sebastian tapping his quill against the desk was driving you insane. You shot him an angry look as he put his hands up, mouthing a snarky “what?” back at you.

Just ignore him, you thought, like Ominis said, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

Surprising absolutely no one, you finished your essay before Sebastian, rising gracefully from your desk and handing the roll of parchment to Professor Hecat with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry again, Professor. I promise I won’t lose my head again.”

She returned the smile, “You’re a brilliant witch, my dear, I expect great things from you. Don’t disappoint me.”

The hallways were deserted as you emerged from the classroom, curfew had passed a few hours ago so you would be in for a quiet walk back down to the dormitory. As you descended the main stairs, an insufferable voice came from behind, echoing through the vacant corridor.

“I expect great things from you, don’t disappoint me!”

Sebastian was sauntering down the staircase, a mocking grin on his face. You rolled your eyes and continued on, ignoring him just like you did Peeves.

The twin footsteps followed the corridor leading towards the bottom floor of the castle, Sebastian making an annoying point to whistle a jaunty tune the entire time that was grating on your nerves. The realization finally dawned on you that he had completely bypassed the staircase that led down to the Slytherin dungeons. Whipping around, he stopped short as to not walk directly into your body.

“Why are you following me?” You demanded, keeping your voice steady. The low lights of the torches lining the hallway flickered in his dark eyes, reminding you of the countless nights dueling down in the Undercroft together. The hanging braziers would always cast a halo effect onto his hair, looking almost angelic as he would reach out a hand to help you up after a particular strong blast. “Not bad—for a Hufflepuff,” he would chuckle, brushing the dirt from your hair. In those moments, it didn’t matter that Ominis was across the room listening, it didn’t matter that you weren’t any closer to curing Anne, it didn’t matter that the fate of the Wizarding world was weighing on your shoulders; it was just you, and him, two sides of the same Galleon, the rest just melted away.

He pushed past, cocking his head to the side as he approached the portrait leading to the kitchens.

“Promised Imelda I’d grab her something from the kitchens on my way back—they don’t serve dessert in the hospital wing, apparently…”

Mouth pressed into a tight line, you nod. The upwards inflection at the end of his statement gave you pause, it almost sounded…amused? The sight of the large barrels at the end of the hallway was a welcome sight, and you picked up the pace towards the common room entrance, desperate to get away from Sebastian and the aggressively thick tension. Tapping the second to last barrel, you stared at the wooden entrance as it slid open, allowing passage through. Before stepping over the threshold, you could’ve sworn the sound of your name was whispered quietly from down the hall; when you glanced back, the kitchen portrait was just snapping shut.

———

Avoiding Sebastian was becoming almost impossible; for as large as the castle was, it seemed like the two of you kept running into each other at every turn. Defense class was honestly the easiest place to avoid him, surprisingly; after the incident at the beginning of the year, Professor Hecat knew better than to pair you together. He sat close to the back every week, an opposing position to your front row seat. Outside of the classroom was an entirely different story. In the Great Hall, you would always be within eyeshot of him, and whenever Ominis would stop by your table to chat, you could feel his gaze on you from across the room.

“—I just don’t know how I’ll manage to keep up with it. I still have three essays for Magical Theory, Charms, and Arithmancy, how can I possibly find time to write another for History of Magic?” Ominis ran a hand down his pale face. Sixth year was giving everyone a run for their money; you had never seen Ominis this frazzled about school before. As he continued to whine, you glanced up from your lunch to see Sebastian sitting at the far table, staring directly at you with an expression that could only be describe as longing. Holding his eyes for the briefest of moments, his attention was quickly torn away by the arrival of Imelda, who flopped down on the bench rather dramatically. Her scowl was prominent, and you silently thought about what trivial occurrence had set her off this time. The contents of your lunch threatened to expel themselves as you watched Sebastian throw a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to begin a vicious assault on her mouth. The call of your name snapped your attention from the gruesome display of affection.

“—are you even listening to me?” Ominis whined, face contorted with mild annoyance.

You hummed, the display you just witnessed seemingly burned into your eyes, “Yes, sorry, Ominis. I’m just…”

“Distracted?” His voice was laden with accusation as his eyes drifted over towards the Slytherin table. Your eyes refused to follow, knowing exactly what scene they’d be met with.

“Yes…there’s a lot on my mind between school, and quidditch, and—”

“—and our old friend, Mr. Sallow?” Ominis remained fixated on his house table, voice monotonous as if he were stating a well-known fact.

You choked audibly, eyes about to leave your skull as Ominis’ face remained stoic.

“He asked about you the other day, you know.”

The sentence knocked the wind out of you.

“…o-oh?” Your stumbling voice was a traitor, “and what did he want, exactly?”

“To know how you were.”

A volatile swirl of emotions happened simultaneously. As your heart did somersaults in your chest cavity at the thought of Sebastian giving even one iota of a damn about your wellbeing, the deep rooted hurt and anger from his actions began to courses through your veins like poison; threatening to consume the delicate fluttering between your ribs.

“…and what did you tell him?” The question came out as a barely audible whisper, the hurricane still raging inside of your body, each emotion vying for control.

Ominis slowly panned back to your pained expression, “I told him to ask you himself.”

———

Last winter was brutal, but this years was shaping up to be even worse. The castle grounds had been perpetually blanketed in heavy snow for almost two months straight, so much that you had frankly forgotten what grass looked like. On top of that, the wind whipped violently across the lawns and swirled around the courtyards, making it almost impossible to be outside between classes. The majority of the time you were comfortably resigned to lounging in the Hufflepuff Common Room, the warmth and coziness of the underground burrow breathing some much needed life back into your bones. You and Ominis had begun swapping books as entertainment; once the two of you had completed your respective novels, you’d switch them in-between classes or drop them off at breakfast. Sometimes Ominis would write little notes and stick them in the pages of chapters he found very interesting, so you began to copy the sentiment, making notes in the margins on lines that particularly moved you. Afterwards, deep discussions would be had in the Undercroft about each story, coming up with theories and breaking down each plot point. It had become a hobby you truly enjoyed, and it brought the both of you even closer together.

Ominis had been on a big muggle literature kick lately, opting for recommending ancient greek texts for this cycle of book-swapping. He dropped off a small, leather-bound copy of The Odyssey one morning at breakfast, raving on and on about how much he enjoyed it and being extremely anxious upon hearing your thoughts once finished. His excitement had you beaming, genuinely for once, a smile that made your cheeks hurt slightly. You hadn’t felt that since…well, since last year.

The anniversary of the Battle of the Repository was approaching, something that refused to leave the forefront of your mind. The book-swap with Ominis had been helping slightly, giving you at least a slight reprieve while reading about far away places and fantastic adventures, but you couldn’t stay stuck in the pages forever, and the reminders would always creep back quickly.

Double Potions that morning led into a free afternoon (thank Merlin, you could only take so much of Garreth Weasley in one day), meaning that the rest of the day could be spent curled up by the fire in your common room reading without distractions. The thought of the gentle heat warming your frozen body is what got you through the dreary hours-long dungeon class (the lack of feeling in your toes stealing most of your attention, allowing you to completely shut Garreth’s incessant talking out). At Professor Sharp’s grunt of dismissal, you practically flew from the dungeon, taking the steps two at a time back up to your warm, golden oasis.

The best couch was unoccupied as you walked through the wooden tunnel, tossing your bag onto the rug and flopping down amongst the floral embroidered cushions. You stretch your feet out towards the fire, feeling the blood begin to flow back to your soles and wiggling each toe inside your boots.

The spine of The Odyssey cracked as you pried it open, relishing in the feeling of the parchment on your fingertips. As you worked your way through, a small piece of parchment slid out from the back of the book, landing directly into your lap. A small note was scrawled onto the torn paper, and you instantly recognized Ominis’ posh handwriting (the way he flourished the last letter of each word was a dead giveaway).

Meet me in the Undercroft after curfew tonight.

Tonight? There’s no way you’d be able to finish this book by tonight, it was already almost—shit, it was almost dinner. Sighing, you began to tear through the pages, deciding to skip dinner entirely in lieu of attempting to finish by this evening. You’d just pop by the kitchens on the way to the Undercroft, Ominis was always welcoming of midnight snacks anyway.

The clock in the common room chimed at 10pm, signaling that curfew had officially begun. After a quick pit-stop in the kitchens (you grabbed Ominis and extra dessert hoping it would make him less annoyed that you hadn’t been able to finish his book that day), you snuck silently towards the Defense Tower.

The gate to the Undercroft groaned as you lifted it, stepping through and looking around the dim area for any signs of life.

“Ominis?” You call into the room, “I’m sorry—I really tried to finish but I ran out of—“

A shuffling in the corner caught your attention. Ominis never remembered to light the torches if he got there first, something you really needed to remind him of.

“Incendio,” you ignited one of the braziers by a nearby pillar, illuminating Sebastian’s face.

“What’re you doing here?” Your voice was accusatory as you gripped onto your book.

“Me?” His brows raised incredulously, “Need I remind you, this was my secret first. If anything, I should be asking why you’re here.”

Prick.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m supposed to be meeting Ominis.”

Sebastian hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t think he’ll be making it.”

A pit of fear began to form in your gut, an unintentional mechanism put in place after everything that happened last year.

“What’re you talking about? Is he okay?!” Your voice began to raise as panic shot through every cell in your being.

He raised his hands in a calming manner, “He’s fine, last I saw he was heading up to bed.”

…What? Ominis knew you had a meeting tonight, he’s the one that bloody sent the invitation! You pulled out the torn piece of parchment from the pages of the book, examining the words again to see if maybe you had misread it.

Sebastian chuckled darkly from across the room, “Impressive, isn’t it? I think I’m getting rather good at imitation charms.”

Your eyes slowly raised to his smug face, “…you? You wrote this? Why—“

“I—wanted to talk to you,” his voice faltered slightly.

Your eyes widened, “Now you want to talk? It’s been months, Sebastian…”

The blood in your veins was beginning to heat up, all of the anger that had been building since last winter coming back to the surface.

He sighed, “How are you?”

The cackle that left your mouth was accidental, “How am I? Is that a joke? You’re joking, right?”

He sat stone-faced as you raised both eyebrows at him incredulously.

“You’re unbelievable…” you grumbled, turning towards the gate to leave.

“Wait!” He rushed forward grabbed your wrist. The touch sent electric shocks through your arm.

“Please—I—I’m sorry,” His voice was low, eyes pleading with you to stay, “I just, don’t know what to say.”

“An apology would be a fantastic place to start,” you retorted rather rudely, earning a sideways glance from him.

“I’m trying—”

“—No you’re not.”

“Well, maybe if you let me get a word in—“

“—go ahead then, tell me what you’re ‘trying’ to apologize for,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Sebastian backed up slightly, “…Everything. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, I’m sorry you had to see me at my worst—“

“—at your worst? Sebastian, I lied for you, shit—I cast unforgivables for you. I convinced Ominis to keep everything a secret so you wouldn’t be sent to Azkaban. And what did you do? You disappeared—“

“—I know, I’m sorr—“

“No!” Your voice was growing louder as you felt the tears start forming again, “You don’t get it! We went through hell together, I fought beside you while you took advantage of me and my powers. You used me, Sebastian…you used me and threw me away when you saw nothing left to gain…”

“Is…is that really what you think?” He whispered, eyes full of a sad desperation that you couldn’t place.

You sniffle, avoiding his gaze altogether, “I needed you. After Ranrok…after losing Professor Fig…I was so alone. All I wanted was to see you, to talk to the one person I loved the most.”

You watched as Sebastian’s eyes glassed over.

“I couldn’t face you, not after everything you saw, everything that I put you through. That day in the Scriptorium, when I—“ His voice cracked, wet eyes glancing up at the ceiling,”—when I cast crucio on you, I thought I’d lost you. I had promised myself to never hurt you again after that night, and I…I failed. I failed myself, and most importantly, I failed you. I didn’t use you for your powers…I needed you beside me because you’re—you’re the only person besides Anne that I can’t live without.”

He drew closer, his soft freckles becoming more defined as he inched forward. Your breath hitched as he grabbed your wrist again softy, tracing down until his calloused fingers intertwined with yours. It was intoxicating.

“��I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

As you met his eyes, he closed the remaining space, crashing his lips to yours. All of the tension and emotions from the past year surged through your body, pushing against him as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Mouths moving in perfect tandem, he kissed you with a soft, longing passion that stole the breath from your lungs. He began to trail down your jawline, pressing delicate marks into your skin that threatened to burn you alive.

“What about Imelda?” You exhaled, his deft fingers gripping onto your backside as he wedged a knee between your legs.

You felt him smirk into your neck.

“…who?” He whispered into your ear before pushing you against the cold stone of the Undercroft, the devilish grin still evident as his lips found their home against yours.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fic #Sebastian Sallow angst #Sebastian Sallow fluff #Sebastian Sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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guardian-of-time-if · 30 days ago

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Final Years with MC snippet: Tzesar

I wrote another snippet to go with the one for Lukyan I released yesterday. This one is for Tzesar. It doesn't have MC in it nearly as much, but since he'd be actively hiding his thoughts from MC this felt better to show where his headspace would be at. I hope you enjoy!

Also forgot to mention this in the last one, but there shouldn't be anything in these snippets that is an actual spoiler, but they do take place decades after the plot, so there's hints of where the characters will end up if you'd rather not know.

Tzesar flips through another esoteric, ancient tome. This one is proving to be even less relevant than the last. Perhaps elvish tomes weren’t the way to go. They already had immortality, why would they seek magic to recreate it? But that would suggest that human writings would be the best source for magic to prolong life, and he was pretty familiar with all human mages worth reading.

He was running out of options. The elven texts were more and more worthless with each one. None of the texts by scholars he recognized offered practical solutions, only theoretical starting points. While he didn’t necessarily mind doing the experimentation himself, he’d prefer to have a more concrete starting point. He’d rather not cause a lethal accident because his textual sources were too vague. He’d even tried asking Sentinel for help the Dragon Seekers could offer, but had been flatly refused. Or at least, Tzesar assumed that the elf walking away without waiting to hear the full question was a no.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls, forcing Tzesar to look up from his tome.

“Headmaster?” He asked, surprised to see one of his former teachers from his days at school.

“I hear you are looking for old tomes detailing ancient magics.”

“That is true,” Tzesar answers. He knows this man, spent years learning from him, but decades at court have taught him not to trust when people show up unannounced claiming to have solutions to your problems. “How did you hear that?”

“One of my students tried to steal these volumes from our library,” he replies, holding up a stack of books. “Our guard brought her to my office, and she told me the grand arcanist of Nytheris was offering more gold than her entire village makes in a year for ancient tomes of unknown criteria. That was odd, I thought, knowing that the grand arcanist was once one of my students, and has full rights to visit our library any time.”

“I actually thought to plan a trip soon,” Tzesar interjected, coming very close to a lie. He’d thought about going, but immediately decided against it because he would have to explain to MC why he was leaving.

“Well, I did some asking around of my own to ascertain which tomes you would be looking for. Once I accumulated a list of titles, I found a common thread. So tell me, child, why would you waste so many resources hunting down a form of immortality?”

“Who says that’s what I’m after?” He asked, turning away from the professor.

“I may not be Eldrin Carathroth, but I did catch you sneaking into off limits sections of the library in your free time, and using unsanctioned magic in your dormitory. Your lies are as easy to see through now as they were then, even if you do hide them under a courier’s smile.”

“Fine,” he admits. “I’m looking for ancient texts about immortality. I’m hardly the first human to look into the existence of such magics.”

“You are far too good a student of history to claim ignorance on why such magics are so dangerous.”

“Those men were idiots,” Tzesar answers bluntly. “I am a genius. I’ve studied their mistakes. I won’t repeat them.”

“Which brings us back to my original question. Why do you pursue this path? You are the grand arcanist for a much loved king. The greatest wizard of our age. Do you really need the glory of uncovering immortality as well?”

“It’s not about glory,” Tzesar insisted. “It’s about… me. I need it for personal reasons. I won’t publish my research. No one will be able to use it after me.”

“Then why don’t you ask your brother for help?”

“He won’t help with this. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I thought you were close.”

“We are, but we can’t talk about this. He doesn’t… he wouldn’t…” Tzesar lets out a groan as he words seem to fail him. What is it about being in the presence of a mentor that reduces one to a child even in old age.

“Then why wouldn’t you ask me? Or any of the professors you were close to. I know you miss Eldrin, but surely he wasn’t the only one you can trust.”

“I do trust you, but you have elven blood you wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only half elven. I still age, and I’ll still die, it just takes a couple decades longer. I’m even getting close to death myself. Are you afraid?”

“No!” He hated how alarmed he sounded.

“It’s normal to fear death.”

“I don’t fear death. I just can’t be the only one…”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. That was too honest.

“Only one?”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Your love,” the teacher says, suddenly, seeing through every wall Tzesar had tried to keep up. “She’s going to outlive you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I always knew your pride would be the end of you, but I never suspected it would be like this.”

“Pride?” Tzesar asked, not bothering to hide how insulted he was from his voice. “You think its about pride?”

“You can’t handle not being the best at something. If the woman you’re in love with can best death, why can you not?”

“Its not about beating death.”

“Then tell me what you would do if you found immortality.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m going to leave these books here, not because I think they’ll help you, but because I hope that reading the perspective of men who have lost themselves to the pursuit of immortality will prevent you from doing the same.”

“I won’t lose myself,” He promises.

The professor leaves, and is soon replaced by MC. She walks over to where he’s deep into one of his tomes.

“Tzesar,” she calls softly, nudging his shoulder. “You’ve been down here forever.”

“I’ve been working on my research.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week,” she says, peeking over his shoulder. He shut the book before she could see anything important. “Why are you hiding away down here?”

“I’m not hiding,” he insists. “I’m doing research.”

“You just shut that book so I can’t read your book.”

“It’s government secrets.”

“Are you serious? How long have we been together?”

“Why are you being so nosy?” He asks, hoping to distract her.

“I’m not being nosy. Why are you being so shady?”

“I’m a scholar, we primarily do our work in privacy.”

“Why do you need privacy from me?”

Because he has a strong feeling she wouldn’t approve, but he can’t say that, so instead he sighs. “I don’t need privacy from you. It’s just not ready for sharing yet.”

Her shoulders slump. “Do I need to worry?”

“No,” he promises. “I have everything under control. I promise I’ll explain everything once I can.”

When he had finally found a way to preserve his life, so they could stay together. He didn’t have many years ahead of him, but all he needed was one lucky break. If he had any say over the matter, he was going to find a way to be immortal with his MC, even if it killed him.

#guardian of time #guardian of time if #snippet #final years with mc #ro asks #not techincally #but an ask inspired these and I want to keep them tagged together #ro: tzesar

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cyn-write · 9 months ago

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RAMSHACKLE; Based on the Pumpkin King's Curiosity

Disclaimer: In my AU, Night Raven College is a College/University so all characters are aged up 4 years. There are also mentions of alcohol.

Ramshackle is one of the oldest dorms in Night Raven History and is based on one of the oldest stories in Twisted Wonderland's history. A dorm that often attracts troublemakers, delinquents, and outsiders, the dorm often houses NRC's worst of the worst. The dorm was shut down over 200 years ago after the mirror stopped sorting students there as no one was "curious enough." But after the arrival of the first female student at NRC, Cynthia Widow, the first Magicless Student, Grace Wilde, and Magic Meniace, Grim, the dorm has reopened and welcomed 10 troublemakers that uphold the Ramshackle name and embody the Pumpkin King's domain.

History

The tale of the Pumpkin King dates back to the beginning of Twisted Wonderland's history. Halloween was the King's domain, but after ruling Halloween for years and years he became bored. The kingdom filled with huants and magic was not stimulating to the king. After a visit to Winterfest domain, he felt rejuvenated and decided he would take over Winterfest! His kingdom was excited to take on this challenge, but they did not fully understand the concept. Despite the warnings from his future Queen, he went through with the takeover and put the Sandy Claws,the ruler of Winterfest, in the care of "The Boogy Man," unknowing the danger. Despite his excitement, the takeover was a failure to others but not him. He was rejuvenated with excitement and returned to Halloween with a new vigor! He and the Sandy Claws came to a truce with the aid of the Pumpkin Queen, and the kingdom reigned for years to come.

The Dorm was the second dorm to be installed to house the troublemakers of NRC. Supervised by ghost, the dorm has an essence of haunts and spooks. The dormleader and vice are the strongest mages in the dorm in magic and spirit, as they have to run a dorm of rulebreakers. The dorms uniforms are based on the residence of Halloween town dressed in black and white with the dormhead being the only member to have color in their uniform. The dorm was often made up of the exciled members of other dorms as well as those placed in it, making for an interesting combination.

After being out of commission for 200 years, the dorm has returned with a new batch of troublemakers thanks to the suddent apperence of 2 female students, a talking magic cat, and merging with Thatch Academy for Troubled Mages. The new dorm has a new style, new faces, and a new Vigor that would make the Pumpkin King proud.

Uniforms

⬇️Ramshackle’s Housewarden Uniform and Designs for the New Ramshackle Uniforms⬇️

The term "uniform" is currently very loosely interpreted by Ramshackle. It is more of an aesthetic with color rules. The aesthetic is "Delinquent Chic" with a main color of black with pops of purple and/or green. There is a variety of selections with each student having a unique uniform to embody the members of Halloween town. Some of the peices are from the students own wardobe while others are refurbished from the attic or scraps from other the other dorms. The unifying factor of the dorm is the headpieces and dorm emblem armband or patch. The headpieces (mask or hairpin) are of one of 7 designs: A witch, a devil, a skeleton, a bat, a pumpkin, a ghost, or a spider. There are a multitude of combinations that could be made and all must be approved by the dorm head and/or Professor Crewel to ensure it fits the dorm's guidelines.

The exception to this “free-for-all” as it is called by most is the Dorm Leaders uniform which was redesigned by Crewel and the current Housewarden. Current Dormleader, Cynthia Widow, has designed a purple gown and overcoat with a web collar, black corset, and spider motifs. Crewel aided in the design and recreation of this uniform. The uniform also has the "kings scepter" and the "Web Crown" which signify its holder as the head of the dorm.

There are designs for the new uniforms for Ramshackle based on the styles of the current students as the original designs were, as Crewel put it, affronts to fashion and sight. Crewel called it "prison chic" with the original uniforms being reminiscent of prison uniforms with the color palette being black and white uniforms with a pop of color somewhere, and the dormleader and vice’s uniforms being closer to "warden" outfits than the school standards. Despite enjoying the cruel joke, Crewel decided to revamp the uniforms to be less.... prisioner and more modern, fitting the current “delinquent chic” of the residence. He, housewarden Cynthia Widow, and Vice Housewarden Grace Wilde have been debating designs, with Housewarden Widow still against the idea of uniforms all together as "The dorm of CURIOSITY should be able to dress as curious as they please." So new uniforms are coming along... slowly.

Note From Administration: "To address the complaints from fellow students and parents, Ramshackle WILL be given a uniform in the same manner as the other dorms starting next year. We are currently designing and updating the uniforms. We are not giving the dorm special treatment. Uniforms will be reinforced next year."

Note from Housewarden Widow: "I'd like to see you try."

Dorm Members

There are 10 members of Ramshackle currently since the merging with Thatch Academy for Troubled Mages.

Housewarden Cynthia Widow

Name: Cynthia (Cyn) Mazikeen Widow

Twist: The Boogy Man from "Nightmare Before Christmas"

Nicknames: Cyn - Friends; Barracuda - Floyd; Reine de l'araignée - Rook; Miss Spider - Lilia; Crowley's Dog (or Crowley's B*tch) - Some... Most Students (and Leona); Boss/Housewarden - Ramshackle Residence

Birthday: January 19th

Class: 1-B

Cynthia Widow is one of the first female students at Night Raven College, and the first student stored into Ramshackle in years. As the first member of Ramshackle, she was the defector for Dormhead, but most of the Housewarden duties are handled by Grace unless it is magical. Cyn is a half-fey student in class 1-B with a love for bugs. She excels in ancient magic and is a member of the board game club. Little to nothing is known about her past but the fact she just "appeared" out of nowhere and has a grandfather she loves and misses dearly. She is often referred to as "Crowley's Dog" as she does a lot of the mage's dirty work. She doesn't mind, though. Beacuse, as long as she does Crowley's dirty work, she can get away with a lot more than she legally should *wink wink*.

Vice Housewarden Grace Wilde (Yuusona)

Name: Grace Elizabeth Wilde

Twist: Yuu! and Jack Skellington from "Nightmare Before Christmas"

Nicknames: Gracie - Friends; Shrimpy - Floyd; Mademoiselle Tirckster -> Mademoiselle Pettie - Rook; Child of Man - Melleus; Henchmen - Grim; Anglefish-Azul (in Private)

Birthday: February 2nd

Class: 1-A

Grace Wilde is the only magicless human in NRC and is often paired with Grim, but after being provided with her service familiar, Kerby, and an alchemist ring from Trein, she is now an independent student. Specializing in animal handling and alchemy. She is the first female student to be sent to NRC and the second to be inducted into Ramshackle. She was named Vice by Cyn as she was dubbed the "mother" of Ramshackle due to her talents with troubled individuals. She is in class 1-A and the horseback riding club. She is also the founder and head of the NRC weekly book club, which she started after accepting the fact that she is never going back to her world (on the account she died there) as a way to learn about this new world through books, and force some of her friends (cough*Riddle*cough) to relax and read. She checks in on the Overblot students often as well as the new Thatch Students since they worry her, and Crowley put her in charge of getting the “comfortable”.

After the first 4 overblots and 60 visits to the nurses office, Trien, Crewel, and Nurse Pinklee "convinced" Crowely that the best way to avoid lawsuits or accidentally get the magicless human killed is to listen to Pinklee's "prescription" and get her some protection. So he gratiously gifted her a certified service familiar!

Name: Kerby the Hound

Twst: Zerro from “Nightmare Before Christmas” and Cerberus from “Hercules”

Nicknames: Kerbs- Grace, Ace, Deuce, Ivy, and Cater; FLUFFY - Ramshackle Residence; Hernch-Dog -Grim; Blobfish - Floyd; Monsieur Kerby - Rook; Good Boy/Example Student - Professor Crewel

Birthday: December 25

Kerby is a Grytrash and has some magical abilities such as his Bark (which can knock people back), he can grow 2 sizes and carry 1 person, and he can dissappere into shadows on comand. Trein and the faculty thought a magical familiar was nessassary to protect the magicless student/student-employee. Plus, they owed it to her after she had dealt with the overblots (AKA Trien and Crewel pressured Crowley for funds). Kerby service familiar is a Psychiatric service familiar that alerts her to panic attacks, aids her in difficult tasks, and acts as a protector (seeing as she has been involved in a multitude of overblots and magic duals). Grace and Kerby are the friendlier faces in Ramshackle and are always willing to provide a helping hand.

Residents of Ramshackle

Name: Grim the Great

Nickname: Grims - Grace; Grimsie - Cyn; Baby Seal - Floyd; Monsieur Fuzzball - Rook; GRIMMM - Ramshackle Residence

Birthday: ???

Class: 1-A

Grim is the feline member of Ramshackle and is often seen with Vice Housewarden Grace (dubbed himself the "Vice-Vice Housewarden"). After his turbulent entrance and a rough start, he was accepted into Ramshackle and recently named an independent student in class 1-A. He has not declared a club and prefers to float around with whichever henchman he has latched to that day. As one of the original members of Ramshackle, he sees himself as a mentor to the newbies, but he is more an encourager of chaos.

Name: Reyna Francessca Bouc

Twist: Salley from Nightmare Before Christmas

Nicknames: Rey -Friends; Tiny Tetra - Floyd; Mademoiselle Electrique - Rook; Doc - Ramshackle Residence

Birthday: June 11th

Class: 2-B

Reyna Bocu is one of the 3 fey triplets that joined NRC with Thatch Academy (Romella <twst Mother Gothel> is in Pomefiore and Rhea <twist Tinkerbelle> is in Ignanhyde). The Doc of Ramshackle is one of the quieter members of the dorm but fits in perfectly. She was a master of combining science, alchemy, and magic, which got her into trouble originally. She was a child protagy with an idetic memory and a fascination with biology. She was so fascinated with the delicatcy of being that she took the idea of life in her own hands. Her lab is off-limits, but there are times a cat that is sewn together can be seen playing with an undead toad, but that is Ramshackle's little secret.

Name: Ivy Calliope Shroud

Twist: Megara form Hercules

Nickname: Ivs - Friends; Lantern Fish - Floyd; Mademoiselle Flamme - Rook; Miss Ivy - Malleus; Sis - Idia.and Ortho; Annoying Girl - Sebek

Birthday: November 1st

Class: 1-D

Ivy Shroud is one of the 25 students who joined NRC when it merged with Thatch. Ivy is the half-sister of Ignanhyde Dormleader and "Vice"- Idia and Ortho Shroud - though few would make the connection based on how Ivy acts, but if the Shrouds were somehow in the same room, aised from the hair, the likeness is uncanny. She is one of the biggest troublemakers of Ramshackle as she often starts fights and leaves school property with a very valuble and very royal Fey. She is a skilled fighter as she studied under both Captian Alina Dobbler and Professor Korra Thatch with fists and swords. She is a student of class 1-D (due to being held back in high school), a member of the Gargoyle Studies Club (She thought it was a fan club for the "Gargoyles" T.V. Series), and a serious gamer when she has time. Ivy fights for her friends and loved ones and does not back down. Despite her attitude, she is an incredible tactician and extremely intelligent (professors often comment that she would be a star student if she showed up).

Other Dorm Residence

Lucifer Locke (Twst Locke) - 2nd year (Half-Fey)

Estella Shocke (Twst Shocke) - 3rd year (Electric EelMer)

Benjamin Barrell (Twst Barrel) - 2nd year (Human)

Marshall Frost (Twst Marshmellow) - 3rd year (Human)

Lysandra DeBrock (Twst Mordue) - 2nd year (Bear Beastwoman)

Dorm Holiday Activates

Halloween Dorm theme: Haunted Doll House (Based on Coraline) - The dorm based on Halloweens KING serves up some serious flights for Halloween. They want to scare the pants off every visitor. Tho Crowley has forbidden them from doing their original idea (a recreation of Halloween Town with accurate dead bodies) because it needed to be PG-13. So Grace suggested theming there haunt after a book. What could go wrong with a Haunted Doll House, especially based on a childrens book??? (Note: Crowley Regretted this decision quickly but it was too late)

Winter Holiday: Dorm Voluntary Outing to the middle of the sea with Dr. Dobbler and Captain Alina Dobbler (Based on 'Treasure Planet' and 'The Lost Empire') or staying on campus for dorm repairs.

Beanfest: The Dorm is off-limits, but they use it anyway.

Ghost Wedding: Ivy is plotting a Missions Impossible-esque ploy to get her brother back. While poor Marsh is forced to offer himself to the ghost bride... he got slapped for having a weird smile. (Note - Marsh is a big teddy bear, and Ramshackle spent the next day consoling Marsh and telling him his smile is lovely)

Fairy Gala: Ivy and Grace are forced into Modeling.

Camp Vargas Survival Camp: Grace and Grim go to both; Luci, Estella, Benni, Lyn, and Marsh are in Athletic, and Reyna, Ivy, and Cyn are all in the Artistic group.

Weekly Game Night and Movie Night - Tournament-style weekly event for all Ramshackle members, members can bring 1 guest to have as their partner. Everyone contributes a thumark, and the winners gets the pot! On weeks everyone is poor: They switch it out for a movie (usually horror or spooky)

Summer Research Trip: The Summer Research Trip is led by the former Thatch Professors (Dr.Dobbler, Captain Dobbler, Dr. Thatch, and Professor Thatch). Since most, if not all, the members of Ramshackle and the other former Thatch students are either banned, cannot, or do not want to go home, the Docs and their wives take the students on an archeological dig in the Jungle's of the Sunset Savana. Since they are now part of NRC, the professor's extended the invitation to other students as well. The excursion last most of the summer and can stay the entire summer if they wish! (based on Tarzan and The Jungle Book)

Glorious Masqurade: Grace and Grim Go as assistance, and Cyn goes as a guest! The only reason this was allowed his beacuse Ramshackle agreed to be on their best behavior so they could make mechanical dead people! All in the name of Halloween!!! (And Marsh and Lyn were put in charge).

Playful land - Grace, Grim, Reyna, and Ivy go to Playful Land and see that Fellow has a very uncanny likeness to a fellow Thatch students... so Ivy gets in trouble "investigating" Fellow and Rey gets introuble "Investigating" the puppets and invading their privacy.

Misc/Notes

After Cynthia and Grace were admitted into Night Raven officially, Crowley went through with negotioations on obsorbing The Thatch Academy For Trouble Mages into Night Raven. He knew if word got out that there were 2 lone female students who attended NRC, it would be an HR nightmare, and the press would have a field day. Thatch has been in negotiations with NRC to join schools for over 5 years, but Thatch not only had female teachers but mostly female students. Crowley turned them down since NRC was traditionally all male, but seeing as circumstances have changed, he went through with the deal! A win-win in Crowley's book. (Extept the Anti-Magic force agent, Detective Cyra Thorne <Twst Enchantress>, attached to the school due to the students' "records." She makes Crowley nervous.)

Crowley allowed the Ramshackle Students to renovate the dorm as long as their overseers (Dr. Dobbler and Captian Alina) approve, so there are a bunch of hidden trap doors, tunnels, and a few labs in the basement that no one is "supposed" to go in but Ramshackle residence.

Cyn, Ivy, and some of the other members throw parties in one of Ramshackle's basements that people pay to go to (They basically run a club), and not everything there is exactly school-sanctioned, but Crowley looks the other way since Cyn does his dirty work.

Grace was put in charge of keeping everyone out of trouble and in one piece (Aka, she was labeled Den-Mom). So whenever someone is in trouble, they go to Grace for help (even if it is over her head). Whenever they throw parties, they find someone to distract her or make her stay in another dorm for the night.

That being said, they have a speak-easy style club run by the ghosts and Cyn. No one knows how they get booze, but it appears every Sunday at 5, and Crowley gets a new bottle of wine on his desk at 6. (AKA, he is bribed, so he doesn't mind)

Ramshackle is very protective of its Den Mom. With her being Magic-less and being not of this world, they treat her as family and protect her from those who dare look down on her (One time Cyn heard a Scarbia guy say she should be kicked out for beimg magicless and he magically dissappered... and reappeaed 4 days later scared of his shadow and trembling at the sight of the Ramshackle emblem).

Somewhere in Ramshackle is a remote to the kitchen t.v. and the person who finds it gets 20 thumarks and control of the Kitchen t.v. for a week.

If you made it this far, thank you!!! I hope you enjoyed reading about Ramshackle and its residence! They are all part of my Twst Fic "A Tale of Two Yuus," and the 4 Oc's highlighted at the top are the 4 main characters. I will (eventually) link all their bios to their sections if you want to learn more about them! If you have any questions, want to interact with one of them, or want tagged once I post chapters, please comment!

Huge thank you to @/cozymochi, @/the-trinket-witch, and @/bunnwich! I commissioned the art of Ivy, Reyna, Kerby, Grace, and Cyn from them!! I did the dorm uniform designs and used base models as mannequins. I also wrote the notes on the designs, so excuse my handwriting.

Comments, Reblogs, and Likes are appreciated!!!

Do not steal!!!

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medusapelagia · 3 months ago

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03 - The price of success

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?") and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Dark Academia) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: demons, enemies to lovers (mentioned), gun violence, murder, major character death, sad ending, magic, demons Words: 1448

(A big thanks to @midsummer-semantics who told me about the Ornamental Pear Tree 😂)

Steve should have known better. There was no way that using an old book he found in the prohibited section of the library to conjure a demon to help him with his college grades was a good idea. Robin tried to talk him out of it, but he did it the same, and it worked.

It worked so well that now he quickly became the youngest professor in the entire Academy, and even his long-time rival Edward Munson had to acknowledge Steve's competence.

Ancient Rome's history and culture? He knows everything, from the most trivial things to the biggest secrets none was ever able to unravel.

But a deal is a deal, and every deal has a price.

The demon told him that he would have claimed his soul the very moment he found love. As if someone could ever love Steve for real.

Steve immediately agreed, but instead of making him sign a scroll with his blood, the demon just said, “The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?” and disappeared in thin air.

From that moment on Steve’s grades got better and better, he won scholarship after scholarship and numerous colleges offered him a place to teach, but Steve never accepted, being at his college and watching Edward Munson struggle was more than enough for him.

Looking behind himself, with a glass of whisky neat swirling gently in his hand, Steve can see all the opportunities he missed in his life.

He lost all his friends, and he never got married or had a life away from college. He devoted his entire life to his studies, and now that he's close to retirement, nobody is here to celebrate with him.

Still, there's a party down at the cafeteria in honor of his old rival, Edward Munson.

Some old students traveled from all over the world to celebrate the old teacher who left such an impression on their young minds. A couple of those have even dedicated their academic success to Edward Munson.

None did that for Stephen Harrington. The only thing he got was a threatening letter from one of his students accusing him of destroying his future. As if a failed exam could do that to a person.

But that’s just Steve’s life. None was there with him when he won his first Award from the Historical Association or when he published his graduation thesis in a prestigious historical magazine.

Not even his parents, who Steve was so desperately trying to impress, gave him any recognition of his academic success like he was always expected to succeed and the fact that he actually did was just a confirmation that he was doing what he was expected to.

He missed Robin, deeply, but he couldn't really blame her for choosing to follow her girlfriend, now wife, to the other side of the globe. She even tried to stay in contact for the first few years, but after facing Steve's stubborn silence, she slowly distances herself from him.

That hurt, Steve can't deny it, but in the end, it was a good thing, if none was close to Steve he would be safe from the demon curse.

He gulps down the whisky in one go and slowly moves toward the fancy bottle to pour himself some more when a soft knock on the door catches his attention.

For a moment he stills, who might be knocking at his door at this hour, he asks himself, frowning at the big wooden doors. Probably a prank.

He turns back toward the chiseled furniture, pouring more whisky, but someone knocks again with more intention.

"Professor Harrington? Are you there?" a familiar voice asks.

"Professor Munson, what are you doing at my door? I thought you were having a little celebration with your acolytes." he snarls back, not hiding the disdain in his tone.

"Yeah. The kids throw a little party for me. It was nice, I must admit it, but I wanted to celebrate with my old enemy. Would you like to join me in the garden? Our bench is still there."

Steve knows exactly what he's talking about, the old wooden bench where they used to sit when they were young, next to the Ornamental Pear tree, or cum tree as Eddie playfully used to call it due to its strong smell.

But that was ages ago, before Steve's deal, when they were studying together and they dreamed of making some great discovery together.

Steve looks at him weary, before deciding that instead of drinking whisky alone in his office he could always drink whisky with Eddie under the cum tree. After all, today was the last day he would be forced to see him.

He grabs the bottle and two glasses, "Lead the way."

The college is almost cleared out, the lessons ended the week before and only a handful of students and teachers are still there.

They sit under the cum tree, chuckling about their shared past made of academic competition.

"Do you ever think that things could have gone differently if you weren't such a prick?" Eddie asks, sipping his whisky slowly.

"I'm not a prick. I was a man with a goal and I did my best to achieve it."

"And you totally did. Stepping on everyone, not caring about the debris you left behind, but hey, even after thirty years you're still the greatest expert on Ancient Roman History." Eddie chuckles.

"And you were too busy having fun every night and playing that stupid guitar. Did you ask me to come here just to insult me? Because if that’s the case I think I’ll go back to my study."

"Nah. But I wanted to ask you a question. Was it worth it?" Eddie asks, gulping down the last of his whisky, "Was it worth it to spend all your life alone? Maybe I never won a prestigious award or hosted a special on History Channel, but I had a full life and love and now that I'm retiring everyone came to celebrate." he turns slowly, "Your retirement celebration plan was getting drunk in your office."

"There's nothing to celebrate," Steve replies, "I'm going to lose my home and someone younger will teach a course I created from nothing. Why should I celebrate?"

"You never celebrated. Not even one of your academic successes. Why?"

"I just did what was expected from me."

"Jee… that's sad even for you, Stevie."

Stevie, like he used to call him when they were friends.

Steve looks into Eddie’s eyes, they are clear and honest like always, and he makes a stupid decision.

"Would you believe me if I told you I made a deal with a demon to achieve academic success?" he asks, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

"I think you're drinking too much."

"I did. But the demon told me that the price was that he would have claimed my soul the very moment I found love. Didn't sound like a big deal at the time."

"Exchanging your happiness for a stupid title? It sounds like a big deal to me!" Eddie replies, chuckling.

The whisky bottle is almost empty when Eddie puts a hand on Steve's knee, "You were the biggest regret of my life, Steve. I had a happy life and few lovers but you… you were something else. The other half of my soul. The missing piece of my puzzle. And I asked you to come here because I'm leaving tomorrow and there's one thing I regretted all my life, and it was not kissing you when I had the occasion. Would you… would you let me...?”

It's just a kiss and then they'll never see each other again. It can't hurt, right?

Eddie tilts his head and bends toward Steve, slowly, giving him the time to recoil, but Steve doesn't move and they finally share a kiss.

"I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie whispers on his lips and Steve would like to answer that he loves him too, he always did, but someone is running toward them and an angry voice screams something about how unfair Steve's grades were and how he destroyed his future. Steve doesn't really have the time to understand what's going on because the boom of the shoot deafens him for a moment before the man lets the gun fall to the ground and runs away.

The college security chases the shooter, yelling, while Steve holds Eddie's bloody body in his arms.

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?" Eddie stutters. The same word the demon said to him when Steve signed his contract, and when Eddie’s body goes limp Steve finally understands that that's the price the demon requested.

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sunflowerabyss · 11 months ago

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Charms of Fate: Chapter 1

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: mention of character death

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of Charms of Fate! This is the first fanfiction I have written in a bajillion years. So here is my current obsession--Remus Lupin.

__________________________________________________________

You stepped onto the train, finding an empty cabin before placing your bags in the compartment above the seats. Huffing, you sat down, pulling out the wrinkled letter you had received only a short month ago. Dumbledore's neat cursive stared back at you in green ink and you fondly remember your first letter from Hogwarts. You smiled sadly as your mind began to drift to the days of your youth.

It was the spring of 1978, and the air at Hogwarts was tinged with the scent of blooming flowers and the bittersweet realization that it was the last day you would walk these halls clad in your Gryffindor robes. You and Lily Evans, the uncommonly kind girl you grew close with over the years, joined her boyfriend James, and his friends Sirius, Peter, and Remus in celebrating the end of your magical journey.

The Great Hall was adorned with festive decorations as laughter and joy echoed through its grandeur. Remus Lupin, the quiet and thoughtful member of the Marauders, caught your eye more often than not. Throughout the last year, you and Remus had gravitated towards each other, drawn together by shared interests and a subtle understanding that words couldn't quite capture.

As the day unfolded, you and Remus found yourselves in moments of quiet conversation, away from the boisterous pranks and laughter of the others. His brown eyes held a warmth that mirrored the budding spring outside, and his words carried a depth that resonated with you on a profound level.

When the time came to say your goodbyes, you exchanged promises to keep in touch. But, as life often does, it threw you and Remus onto different paths. Owl-post became infrequent, and the ties that once bound you to the magical camaraderie of Hogwarts began to loosen.

Years passed, and the connection with Remus faded into the echoes of memories. Life unfolded with its trials and tribulations, and the once-prominent figure of Remus Lupin became a distant echo from the past.

As you reflect on that last day at Hogwarts, you wonder where life took Remus and if the paths that once intersected would ever cross again. The nostalgia of youthful friendships mingles with the ache of time's passage, leaving you with a lingering sense of loss and a yearning for the connection that slipped through your fingers after that bittersweet graduation day.

The vibrant memories of Lily and James' wedding lingered in your mind—the joyous celebration, the laughter, and the shared happiness as you stood by your best friend on her special day. The joy only multiplied when Lily announced her pregnancy, and you were there, witnessing the excitement in their eyes as they shared the news.

The day Harry was born brought tears of happiness to your eyes as you cradled the small bundle of joy. Little did you know that those precious moments would soon be overshadowed by the darkness that would shroud the wizarding world.

Halloween 1981, the news of Lily and James Potter's tragic demise, and Sirius Black's descent into Azkaban sent shockwaves through your body. Your dearest friends, gone. The memories of joy turned into haunting echoes of grief, leaving you lost and depressed.

Desperate for a connection, you tried to reach out to Remus, penning letters that poured out your heartache and longing for solace. Yet, as time passed, and the owls returned without a reply, you gave up hope, feeling the weight of isolation settle over you like a heavy cloak.

In an attempt to escape the suffocating darkness, you found employment in the Ministry of Magic. Modifying memories and undoing magical damage became a temporary refuge, a way to numb the pain that seemed insurmountable.

Life took an unexpected turn when an owl arrived with a letter from Dumbledore, offering you the position of Charms professor at Hogwarts. The prospect of returning to the place where memories were both joyful and painful filled you with mixed emotions. Hesitantly, you accepted the position, leaving behind your job at the Ministry of Magic for a chance to share your knowledge with a new generation.

As the train began to move, you were glad for some solitude in your cab, relieved you didn't have to make small talk. The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels providing a comforting backdrop as you read Dumbledore's letter for the umpteenth time:

"Dearest (Y/N),

I trust this owl finds you well. It is with great pleasure and anticipation that I extend an invitation for you to join the esteemed faculty at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Flitwick, our longtime Charms instructor, has chosen to retire early, and your name emerged as a fitting successor.

Your expertise and dedication to the magical arts have not gone unnoticed. I believe your return to Hogwarts will enrich the academic environment and inspire the next generation of witches and wizards. The position is yours should you choose to accept, and I look forward to welcoming you back to the castle.

Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

You sighed, folding the letter before shoving it into your coat pocket. You leaned your head against the window, watching the scenery go by. As the train journey unfolded, the nostalgic reverie was interrupted. Abruptly, the train jolted to a stop, jarring you from your reverie. You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering what could have caused the sudden halt. Peering out of the compartment window, you noticed the somber atmosphere that had settled over the train.

A hushed murmur passed through the train, and a shiver ran down your spine as an eerie chill filled the air. The familiar warmth of the Hogwarts Express seemed to dissipate, replaced by an unsettling stillness.

In the corridor, shadows flickered ominously, and the ambient hum of conversation turned into uneasy whispers. Your confusion deepened, a sense of foreboding settling over her. Unaware of the impending encounter with Dementors, you exchanged puzzled glances with fellow passengers.

The compartment door slid open, revealing a group of hooded figures moving purposefully down the corridor. The air grew heavy with despair, and you felt an unexplainable weight on your chest. The dim light in the compartment seemed to dim further, casting an eerie pallor over everything.

A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. However, you remember what you saw in the weekly newspaper, and you feel your stomach churn. The Ministry was looking for Sirius Black.

The chilling presence of Dementors filled the cabin, and your confusion gave way to a subtle dread. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figures glided past the compartment before leaving altogether. The inexplicable feeling of despair hung in the air, and you found yourself grappling with an emotion you couldn't put your finger on.

Peering through the compartment window, you caught sight of a man walking to the front of the train, obscured by shadows. A familiar chill ran down your spine, but you couldn't quite discern his identity.

As the train resumed its journey, the weight lifted, but the encounter lingered in your mind. The transient confusion had given way to a deeper awareness that the journey back to Hogwarts held more mysteries than you had initially anticipated.

The remainder of the journey was thankfully uneventful, and exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster led you to drift into a restless sleep. Just before fully surrendering to dreams, you heard the door to your compartment creak open slightly, a subtle intrusion that left you with a sense of curiosity.

You felt the train gradually slow down, pulling you from your slumber as it came to a halt. With a weary sigh, you gathered your belongings, the excitement of returning to Hogwarts now tinged with a layer of apprehension. As you stepped off the train, the castle loomed in the distance, its silhouette etched against the dark sky, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this return held more than just the promise of new beginnings.

Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the castle where you spent many of your adolescent years. Dumbledore welcomed you warmly, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "Ah, (Y/N), my dear. It warms my heart to see you return to Hogwarts. Your presence is a boon to our magical community."

"It's good to be back headmaster," you replied, a genuine, but tired smile on your face.

Dumbledore gestured towards the castle. "Before we delve into matters, let me help you find your living quarters. It has been some time since your last stay, and the castle may seem like a labyrinth."

Grateful for the guidance, you followed Dumbledore through the bustling platform and into the castle. The familiarity of the stone walls and the shifting staircases stirred a cascade of memories.

Dumbledore led you through winding corridors and staircases until you arrived at a charming wooden door. "Here we are, (Y/N)," he announced. "Your living quarters for the foreseeable future. I trust you'll find them quite comfortable."

As you stepped inside, the room revealed itself to be a cozy haven, adorned with warm colors and inviting furniture. It felt like a sanctuary within the castle's magical embrace.

"Take your time settling in, (Y/N)," Dumbledore advised. "Once you're ready, please join me in my office. There are matters we must discuss."

With a nod of gratitude, you watched as Dumbledore left, the door closing gently behind him. Alone in the room, you took a moment to absorb the atmosphere. Hogwarts felt both familiar and different, as if the castle itself held the secrets of a thousand stories.

After gathering your thoughts and putting your things away with the flick of your wand, you made your way to Dumbledore's office, guided by the familiar twists and turns.

As you entered Dumbledore's office, your eyes were drawn to the man already seated in one of the chairs facing the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, acknowledged your presence.

"Ah, (Y/N), right on time. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the remaining chair across from the mysterious man.

As you approached, the man's head turned in your direction, and your breath caught as you met his gaze. It was Remus Lupin, his warm eyes holding a mixture of surprise and recognition.

"(Y/N)," Remus uttered, his voice a quiet revelation that resonated in the room.

"Remus," you replied, a mixture of astonishment and joy coloring your tone. The room seemed to hum with unspoken emotions as Dumbledore observed the reunion.

"I believe introductions are in order," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling knowingly. "Remus Lupin, allow me to introduce (Y/N) (L/N), our new Charms professor. And (Y/N), this is Remus Lupin, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Your eyes locked, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. It felt as though the years melted away, leaving only the echoes of your shared history.

"Quite the unexpected reunion, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore remarked with a knowing smile, his gaze shifting between you and Remus.

Dumbledore leaned back in his high-backed chair, his fingers steepled beneath his bearded chin. The soft glow of the room's ambient light seemed to dance in his half-moon spectacles as he addressed the formalities.

"(Y/N), Remus, I trust that you both find your roles at Hogwarts both gratifying and challenging. The responsibilities that come with being educators are vast, but the rewards are immeasurable," Dumbledore began, his tone measured and grandfatherly.

"As our new Charms professor, (Y/N), I have every confidence that you will impart your extensive knowledge and passion for magic to our students. Your return is a welcomed addition to our academic family."

Turning his gaze to Remus, Dumbledore continued, "And Remus, my dear friend, I cannot express how pleased I am to have you back within these hallowed halls. Your dedication to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is both admirable and much needed in these uncertain times."

You nodded appreciatively, the gravity of your role sinking in. Remus, too, inclined his head in acknowledgment of the responsibility entrusted to him.

"Now, as we embark on a new school year, I must emphasize the importance of unity among the staff. The challenges ahead will undoubtedly require cooperation and understanding. I trust that both of you will uphold the values that Hogwarts holds dear," Dumbledore concluded, his gaze shifting between you and Remus.

Dumbledore's gaze, though kind, became somber as he broached another topic. "There is one more matter we must discuss, one that may cast a shadow over the upcoming term. Sirius Black, a name that resonates through our world with both tragedy and mystery."

He paused, allowing the weight of the name to settle in the room. "(Y/N), Remus, though I am sure you have already heard, I must inform you that Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. The circumstances surrounding his imprisonment are murky, and the Ministry is fervently searching for him."

A heavy silence hung in the room, the mention of Sirius Black injecting an undercurrent of tension. "(Y/N), as a member of the Hogwarts staff, and Remus, given your history with him, I must ask you to exercise caution. The safety of our students is of the utmost importance." Remus nodded solemnly, his expression reflecting the complexities of emotions tied to his old friend.

Dumbledore, sensing the gravity of the discussion, allowed a soft smile to touch his lips. "Now, my dear professors, let us not let these dark times overshadow the joyous occasion of your return. We have much to celebrate and look forward to. I invite you both to the Great Hall for dinner. I shall be along in a few minutes."

You and Remus exchanged glances before standing up and shuffling out of the door. As they exited Dumbledore's office, the bustling sounds of students and the aroma of a delicious feast wafted through the air.

"Well, I must say, this a delightful surprise," Remus said, a warm smile on his face.

You glance up at the man who kept his gaze forward before replying, a small smile of your own settling across your lips, "It's been far too long."

As you both walked side by side towards the Great Hall, the echoes of shared memories and the gaps of time that separated you created a subtle tension in the air. You couldn't help but notice the height difference between you. Remus towered over you, his tall and lean frame drawing attention. His attire, while seemingly a bit outdated, exuded a timeless charm that suited him well. You observed the scars on his face, a feature that had always intrigued you. The origin of those scars remained a mystery. Yet rather than diminishing his charm, the scars seemed to enhance it, giving him an alluring and rugged quality.

"I've missed this place," Remus admitted, glancing around the familiar surroundings.

"So have I," you agreed, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

Remus looked like he wanted to say something, a question or perhaps a sentiment left unspoken for too long.

Yet, after a moment of contemplation, he chose not to voice whatever was on his mind. The unspoken words lingered, leaving a trace of curiosity in the air, but Remus simply offered you a small, reassuring smile. The awkwardness of the silence melted away as the doors to the Great Hall swung open.

As the grand entrance of the Great Hall loomed before you both, Remus, ever the gentleman, gestured with a slight bow, indicating for you to go in first. A faint smile played on his lips, and his hand gently touched the small of your back as you stepped through the massive doors.

The contact was subtle, a genteel gesture that spoke volumes. The warmth of Remus's touch sent a cascade of emotions through you—nostalgia, familiarity, and perhaps something more.

The Great Hall greeted you with its radiant glow, its enchanted ceiling mirroring the starry sky. The tables were laden with delicious dishes, and the murmur of animated conversations echoed in the cavernous space.

Remus followed closely behind, his presence a comforting anchor. The touch on your lower back lingered just long enough to create a lingering sensation, leaving you in a state of gentle bewilderment. It was as if the touch carried the weight of unspoken words, a silent acknowledgment of the shared journey that had brought you back to Hogwarts.

As you both found your seats at the professor's table, the emotions stirred by that fleeting touch lingered, adding a layer of complexity to the reunion. The unspoken connection between you and Remus seemed to dance in the air, an undercurrent that wove through the fabric of the magical atmosphere. Dumbledore opened with a welcoming speech, introducing you and Remus as the new Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, to which you both shyly stood and waved. As the feast unfolded, the feeling of that small, tender touch lingered, leaving you with a sense of warmth and anticipation that awaited the new school year.

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