#my b forgot to tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinking-in-a-gentle-pool-of-wine · 4 months ago

Note

Hii!! I love your writing so, so much-- it's soo good!! I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I'll send it anyway :)

What about something where Sebastian and Ominis are fighting, and the reader tries to intervene, but Sebastian just starts fighting with her as well? So she goes on a mission (they were supposed to go together) alone? And he's looking for her and asks Ominis, and he tells him that she's in the hospital wing. And he goes to her and he apologizes?

Thank you so much, and if you don't like the idea, and you don't want to write it, it's perfectly fine!

HELLO. I’VE DONE IT. I… may have gone a titch overboard—I got really invested. Thank you sm for your request. Here it is (if you wanna see a nicer formatted one (italics, etc.) check out my Wattpad it’s on there too!):

Keep Me Honest // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Angst/Action?/Fluff

Word count: 4k+

(All characters aged to 18+ (really just ‘cause, there’s nothing in here that requires it))

———————————————

“I don’t care that no one got hurt!” Ominis shouts. “You broke your promise, Sebastian.”

You stop in your tracks. You’ve just descended into the Undercroft, ready to meet with Sebastian for a practice session, when you overhear the stirrings of an argument between the two boys you know best. You quickly duck into the shadows, not wishing to interrupt. It wasn't clear to you yet which of their arguments this one was: would it rise to a head and resolve, or would one of them storm off in the heat of the moment and drag the conflict on? You could never tell with these two; both had quite the flair for the dramatic.

“Look,” you hear Sebastian start tersely. “You and I agree that Anne should be able to protect herself. How is this any different?”

“Do you think I woke up yesterday?” Ominis jabs back. “Protecting oneself does not require Unforgivable Curses!”

“Sometimes crucio is all that a goblin will listen to. Anyway, it's already been done, Ominis. What do you expect me to do about it now?”

You knew Anne had been trying to get back on the saddle in terms of spell practice, but you had no idea what all Sebastian had been teaching her during his visits to Feldcroft. You weren't sure how you felt about it, but if Anne had asked him, you supposed it was all right... Ominis did have a tendency to shy away from knowledge that posed any similarity to dark magic. But all the same...

“Promise me that you will never teach Anne another spell that puts her morality in danger. That puts yours in danger, too,” Ominis says.

“I can promise you that I'll not tell you the next time I teach Anne a spell.”

“That's not how we've ever worked, Sebastian, and you know it.”

That was it. Before you know it, you're striding into the torch light to provide some back up. Ominis was right: the three of them had been a team since as long as you had known them. Cutting Ominis out was not the answer; you knew Anne wouldn't stand for it either. As you round the corner, you finally see the scene of the argument.

Ominis was standing ramrod straight, clenching and unclenching his fists, bright red nail marks in his palms. Meanwhile, Sebastian looked erratic as ever, his hair sticking out at all ends from messing with it too much, and his wand held loosely in his hand as he paced back and forth, casting shadows on the wall behind him. When he turns for his next loop, he sees you and halts, his hand tightening on the wand and his eyes wide.

“What are you doing here?” he demands.

Your mouth hangs open, unspeaking, for a few seconds. You don't know what you had expected him to say, but it wasn't that.

“Y/N?” Ominis asks, unmoving.

“Yes, it's me,” you respond. “I got here a few moments ago and... overheard you two arguing.”

Ominis lightly kicks at the ground, agitated.

“Well, if you're here to intervene, don't bother,” he says. “I don't want to hear it. I'm tired of you two galavanting off to who-knows-where to put yourselves in danger despite my warnings, and I'm even more tired of you coming to Sebastian's defense no matter the transgression.”

“Actually, I... wanted to second your wish, Ominis.”

Ominis's jaw drops slightly; he clearly hadn't been expecting your support. Sebastian, on the other hand, looks mutinous.

“Seb,” you start, “I know you want Anne to be safe--we all do!--but going behind our backs isn't the way to do it. Particularly Ominis's.”

“When he refuses to be reasonable,” Sebastian starts, shaking his head, “what choice do I have?”

“Did Anne come to you with the wish to learn Crucio, though?” you push.

“Why does it matter whose idea it was? She seemed happy to learn it!”

“You know she does all she can to please you,” Ominis cuts in.

“So what?” Sebastian responds. “You think I manipulated her--accidentally? How is that even possible?”

“No one's saying you manipulated Anne, Seb—”

“Stop calling me 'Seb'!”

This time, you really weren't expecting him to say that. Your face flushes, and you take a step back. Perhaps you had misread this situation--this friendship, you think. You thought you and Sebastian had grown infinitely closer this last year... that he wanted to tell you everything the same way you did him. That fluttery feeling you'd gotten every time you received a piece of exciting news lately because it meant you'd get to tell Sebastian--it feels empty and silly now. How could you have not noticed until now?--that this feeling hadn't been reciprocated.

You take a deep breath, watching Sebastian white-knuckle the wand in his hand. Willow wood.

“I'm not one of you guys,” you start. “I know that. But Ominis is your family as much as Anne. You owe it to him to be honest.”

You see Ominis's face soften in understanding, his mouth still set in a grim frown. Sebastian, however, tenses his jaw and finally looks at you.

“You're right,” he says. “You're not one of us. So stop butting in where you're not wanted.”

“Fine! I won't,” you say, turning on your heel and all but stomping out of the Undercroft, throwing the door open and not bothering to shut it behind you.

“‘Fine, I won't?’” you mutter to yourself. “Couldn't have thought of something with a bit more finality?”

You feel hot pricks behind the backs of your eyes, and you shove the heels of your palms against your eyelids, shoving the tears back. You wouldn't cry. Not for this. Not when you still had work to do. You'd almost forgotten in the heat of the discussion that this particular training session was only the prelude to another task of yours and Sebastian's.

One thing Ominis had gotten right was the fact that the two of you did often get up to a bit more trouble than you’d bargained for. That being said, the trouble would come no matter what the two of you did, so you figured it was best to go it together, at the end of the day. Now you could hardly imagine back to only a few months ago, when exploring on your own was the norm. You supposed that was about where you were now, though. You could reach out to someone else, but you thought the solitude might do you some good. Perhaps it was time to retrain your independent side.

It wasn't really all that dangerous, anyway. All you had to do was take out a bandit camp, a bit northeast of the Forbidden Forest, that had been causing some trouble for residents of the Hogsmeade Valley. You had hoped that tonight could be the night you introduced Sebastian to Merlin trials, though that didn't appear to be possible anymore.

You run the rest of the way through the hallway and through the main doors into the crisp fall air. You inhale deeply, the smell of damp leaves, dirt, and fresh grass comforting to you. Looking around you once to make sure no prefects were outside to see you, you summon your broom to you and mount it, before bursting off the ground and into the sky. You've come to know Hogwarts enough to not need a recalibrating pause in order to know where you were going--North, South, to the Forbidden Forest, or Hogsmeade, or Feldcroft...

You shake your head, willing the glum thoughts away, and squint to see better in the actively darkening sky. The most recent modifications that Albie Weekes made to your broom are nice, and you feel yourself cutting through the air more cleanly than you ever have. Already, the Forbidden Forest looms up on your left, and you bank right and begin to slow down, searching the ground below. A calm, clear stream runs lazily through the grasses, and you see a figure on its bank. You slow to a stop, watching from a distance still, and the figure stands up from the water and begins to walk back into a patch of trees.

That's gotta be it, you think. You fly closer to the ground but remain on your broom, drifting slowly and steadily through some of the taller grasses to stay as hidden as possible. You see a warm orange glow through the branches of the crop of trees and hear voices on the other side of the thicket. You pull your wand out and are about to dismount, when a blast knocks you off your boom.

The broom is ripped out of your hand, but you keep your wand grip tight as you catch air. Praying that you'll fall in grass or the water or anywhere but a jagged rock, you pull your knees up and make yourself into a ball just before crashing onto the ground. Cold water floods your senses, and you feel your robes instantly soak. You stand up as quickly as you can, slipping in the mud and adjusting your hat so you can see. What you see in front of you makes your blood run colder than the water streaming below you.

Bandits. At least a dozen of them, and a few more apparate into the group as you watch. One of them must have seen you coming, and their spell drew the rest.

“Damnit!” you swear under your breath, and a masked bandit near the front of the group laughs.

“You thought you could sneak up on us all alone, little girl?”

Little girl? You seethe.

“It's not like I haven't singlehandedly taken out camps of your bandits before.”

“Bold words for someone who's just been dismounted.”

“I prefer fighting on the ground, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

With a slight flick of his wrist, the bandit shoots a basic cast at you, and you barely throw up a protego in time to deflect it. You try to follow up with a stunning blast, but the bandit easily deflects it. Taking this as their cue to start engaging, the rest of the bandits begin hurling curses and fire in your direction. You can't get a spell in edgewise. You fumble in your bag for a mandrake and whip it in their direction, wincing against the muffled sound of its cries. Though they've scattered slightly, slowly trying to form what you fear is a circle around you, most of the bandits are affected by its screams, hunching down to cover their ears with as much fabric of their cloaks as possible.

“Bombarda!” you yell, aiming at the largest group of bandits you see. The spell lands cleanly, and dirt and rocks explode, sending the bandits stumbling and falling over themselves. You then disarm two of the bandits closest to you before summoning your broom. You don't want to flee, but you need to get away from the trap you've tripped and restart your approach somehow. As your broom, slightly splintery but still very much intact, flies to you, you spot another bandit mounting their own broom. You throw your leg over the wood and leap off the ground as quickly as you can, kicking a bandit in the face as you do so.

You hear them swear colorfully as you accelerate in a random direction. You refuse to flee back to Hogwarts, but you don’t know where to go that’s safe. You look over your shoulder to see not one, but three bandits flying into a V-formation behind you. The odds of losing all three of them were quickly dwindling, and you could feel now that your robes were slowing you down. The cold air was biting your hands as they gripped your broom, and the fabric sagging off your frame threatened to harden with frost.

Swearing, you shoot down into the trees of the Forbidden Forest, dipping below the canopy line but staying well above the ground. You don’t want to lose the bandits just to find yourself face-to-face with a troll. You can hear the whistle of the wind behind you, signaling the presence of the three following you. As you zig-zag around trees, you think you can hear them panting--with effort or with thrill for the chase? You hope for the former.

You then hear a SMACK! followed by a string of yelling. One bandit down, you think, but don’t dare to look back and confirm. And the end of the tree line is already in sight... so close to the castle.

“Diffindo!”

As you break through the treeline, you feel a slash of pain on your back, crying out as you feel the skin tear as if under the crack of a whip. Your grip on your broom loosens involuntarily, and your vision blurs with tears, even as you see the lights of the castle up ahead. You will your broom to go faster, faster, almost there, you bank on the hope that a prefect or professor or someone will be out on the grounds when you arrive, otherwise there's no stopping the bandits from finishing you off in the front gardens.

You look over your shoulder to see just that one bandit--the other got left behind, you suppose--but he's wearing a wicked grin. As you both rise over the outermost wall of the castle, the bandit is stopped by an invisible barrier, but you hear him throw out one last spell before you make it through the first gate:

“Depulso!” he shouts, and you are thrown from your broom, blown forward and unable to hold on tight enough. Your back, still bleeding, sears in pain from the pressure of the spell, and you tumble through the air, hearing the laughter of the bandit behind you. You can't find the strength in your limbs to form into a protective ball again, and as the ground looms up beneath you, all you can do is shut your eyes.

————————————————————

“Where is she?”

Ominis sighs.

“She wouldn’t be in the Slytherin common room, now would she, Sebastian?”

“How do you know who I’m talking about? I could be asking about a Slytherin,” Sebastian protests.

“Who else would you be talking about?” Ominis retorts.

Sebastian clears his throat.

“Well?”

“And why are you looking for her at this hour?” Ominis asks.

“Ominis, it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon. And… we were supposed to go on a mission together last night, but—”

“But you broke her heart and sent her into certain danger by herself?”

“Merlin, Ominis, when you put it like that—”

“That is what happened, Sebastian.” Ominis sets down the scroll he was fidgeting with. “You’re lucky I didn’t run off into danger, myself. I must admit, you made it tempting, but thankfully I’m a bit more level-headed than our Ravenclaw friend.”

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair; his wand feels slippery in his palm.

“You don’t think she actually went off without me, do you?”

Ominis can’t hold back a snort at this.

“What do you think?”

————————————————————

Your body has never felt more stiff.

You wake up with a crick in your neck and soon discover it’s from sleeping at an odd angle due to the rough bandages spanning the length of your back. A bitter taste sits at the back of your throat, and your head is throbbing. You feel for a moment that you may be sick, but a few deep breaths through your mouth settle you.

A slow scan of the room lets you know that you’re in the hospital wing. Huh, you think, not remembering being brought here. What was the last thing you remember?

A flash of red, dirt, blood, the cobblestone rising up to meet you—

You wince, turning to see a glass of water on the table next to you. You start to reach over to grab it, and it’s only then that you realize your arm is in a sling. Your wand arm.

“Shit.”

“Miss Y/L/N!” you hear the nurse from behind you, and sure enough, she walks up to you, a frown on her face. “You will not use that language in my hospital wing.”

“I’m sorry. But could you please help me with that glass of water?” you ask, holding out your other hand. “I can’t reach it.”

You feel pathetic—unable to finish a mission on your own, unable to heal yourself, unable to lift a glass of water for Merlin’s sake. Hot tears threaten to show themselves again, and you bite your bottom lip—hard—to stave them off.

She passes the glass to you, and you raise it to your mouth. It’s still cold, and you feel it fill your stomach and ease your nausea. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Mhm. Now, I’m not going to ask you how you came to be rushed into my wing, all battered and bruised, with a broken broom, no less—and at the ripe hour of three in the morning!—but I am going to tell you to not do it again. You’ll take a bit to recover; some injuries can’t be undone with the flourish of a wand, you know. You’d do well to remember that.”

Throughout her speech, you felt your face growing hot, and you didn’t know if it was from indignation or embarrassment. You hold your tongue, though, and watch as she flounces away, off to get some Wiggenweld potion, or patronize some more students, or what have you.

Now you were left with nothing but your thoughts… and the almost empty glass of water. What had gone wrong? You couldn’t believe how quickly the previous evening had turned to disaster. You typically kept such a cool head during combat—and allowing a bandit to sneak up on you was unheard of. You know Professor Fig would reassure you that the fact that it had only happened once was an accomplishment, but you expect a level of performance from yourself that exceeds simple assurances. Had going without Sebastian truly thrown you that off your game?

Frustration—at Sebastian or at yourself, you didn’t know—bubbles up inside you, and you wish you could just stand up and walk out of there. You hate being stuck—feeling stuck. Your relationship with Sebastian hadn’t felt stuck at all until last night. Sebastian helped you feel free, capable, clever, brave even. Were you not those things without him? Or did he just help you unlock those parts of yourself? You know it’s the latter, but you still wish you could continue to share those moments with him.

Despite the argument in the Undercroft, you find yourself wishing you could see Sebastian—just try to make him hear you out one more time. And if he really never wants to see you again, then that’s fine. The last year of friendship could mean nothing to him, if that’s what he decides, but you know you would fight.

As you’re steeling yourself to wait it out and perhaps imagining hypothetical scenarios in your head, you hear that very same Slytherin’s voice from outside the wing.

“Let me in, Peeves.”

Your skin starts tingling, and your heart racing. You really didn’t think the time to talk would come so soon. You gulp and look around; none of the other students seem to be paying much mind to the ruckus on the other side of the door.

You hear Peeves blow a raspberry.

“What’s the password?”

“Eat my shorts.”

“Nope! Not even close. Man, you Slytherins really aren’t that clever, are you?”

“Peeves, I’ll curse you if you don’t get out of my way.”

“Oh yeah, and why do you need to get in there so badly? A certain Ravenclaw need your attention?”

Your eyes go wide; you look around frantically and see that some of the students have started to pay attention to the ongoing debate.

“I bet she could guess the password,” Peeves continues.

“Peeves, I swear, I will sic the Bloody Baron on you,” Sebastian responds.

“Ha! Like you have any pull with him.”

The conversation goes quiet, but you hear muffled speaking—Sebastian’s voice. The other students in bed are indiscreetly leaning towards the door as well, trying to catch a phrase or two, when suddenly it bangs open. Sebastian stands in the doorway, looking a mess: his hair is in his eyes, and his robes are askew. His left shoe is even untied. He takes in the room, squinting his eyes when he notices his eavesdroppers, finally landing on you. His whole face changes, the lines disappearing and his eyes brightening, as he strides to your bed and grasps your hand in his.

“Thank Merlin you’re all right. I was afraid I wouldn’t find you in one piece.”

“What?” you start, indignant despite yourself. “You think I couldn’t handle going out alone?”

His eyes harden slightly, and he lets go of your hand.

“What? No, I just heard from Ominis—after much prying, might I add—that you had been rushed to the hospital wing in the small hours of the morning.”

“Oh,” you respond weakly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So I was worried,” he says flatly.

You could cry—he had come in exactly how you pictured he would if you could have your way. And then you ruined it.

You sighed.

“But I could go, if you’d prefer,” Sebastian starts.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand back. “No. Please. I’m—I am… embarrassingly happy to see you.”

He smiles, his eyes softening again. You were vaguely aware of the eyes and ears on you both—here in the middle of the hospital wing—but you didn’t care. Not with Sebastian here, looking at you like that.

“So—” you start.

“Listen—” he starts at the same time.

You both laugh.

“You first,” he says. “You first, please.”

You swallow dryly.

“You, um… I—” you take a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize, for being reckless last night, and for crossing a line or not respecting a boundary of our relationship, I just…”

You pause, but the earnest, open look Sebastian is giving you propels you forward before you can stop it.

“I just want to tell you everything, always. I want to share just about every experience with you. And if that’s weird, that’s weird, and I’ll stop trying to do that, and… And I’ll certainly not expect that of you… but… Well I know what you said last night, actually, so I’ll assume that’s not wanted, either, so. Actually… yeah.”

While you were stumbling through whatever that confession was, Sebastian’s face was taking on an expression you hadn’t seen before. You weren’t sure if it was melancholy or joy, or trepidation. When it’s clear that you’ve said your last filler word in an effort to prolong his response time, he grins.

“Please, never listen to a word I say ever again,” he says, releasing your hand to cup your face in his hands. “You are the best person—the best thing to happen to me.”

You feel the lines in your face release, and you reach up to hold his wrist.

“You keep me honest,” he continues, “and I think I sometimes hate that. But I’ll work on it—I am working on it. I lashed out last night, and that’s not okay. I’d maybe hope that if we get into an argument again, you won’t go and get yourself diffindo-ed, of course…”

“Yeah yeah,” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Really, though. I mean it. Because I’ll be with you next time. And the time after that. And the next one…”

“But then we’re done,” you interject.

“Yeah, all right,” he laughs, lightly punching your shoulder.

“OW!” you yell, gaining back the attention of those in the room who had finally diverted it.

Panic immediately sets in on Sebastian’s face, and he’s about to fall over in his haste to get the nurse, when you start laughing.

“Merlin, Seb,” you say. “Learn to take a joke.”

“I’ll kill you first,” he says, smirking.

“You got any classes today?” you ask.

“Not ‘till Astronomy this evening.”

You scoot over on the bed and pat the space beside you, the question on your face. Sebastian pretends to look around for the nurse in secrecy before gently climbing in beside you. Both of you feel the release of relief settle over you, and you let your head drop onto his shoulder.

“What was it you said to Peeves that convinced him to let you in, anyway?”

#fanfic #harry potter #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #writers #x reader #angst #fluff #action #wand combat #I literally forgot tags exist oops #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #ravenclaw #I’m Ravenclaw so my readers are canonically Ravenclaw my b #ominis x Sebastian x reader #kinda?#love those boys

105 notes · View notes