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hidden-poet · 10 months ago

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Professor Snow

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Summary; Coriolanus takes a position at the university teaching military theory where he develops an unhealthy crush on one of his students.

Warnings; unethical behavior, teacher/student relationship, stalker behavior, coercive control, dubish consent, reader is not very smart, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, reader isn't described or named.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

After studying under Dr. Gaul, he took her place at the University.

She was only looking for a successor, and now that she had found one, she no longer wanted to waste time there. So Coriolanus became the University's military theory professor, in addition to his Gamemaking duties.

He hated the first year. If the pest of the day wasn’t some annoying boy who had never seen war talking about how he single-handedly would have defeated the districts, it was a young girl wanting to single out his attention.

But in his second year, an infatuation started to soften his days to something close to enjoyment.

She always sat alone, at the front, but rarely took any notes. At first, she jotted every word from Professor Snow, but by the end of the first month, her note-taking had stopped and she drew flowers upon the pages instead.

When Coriolanus put up a slide depicting the horrors of war he had witnessed, she winced. She was a delicate flower ready for debasing, and Coriolanus found himself protective of her.

He would catch a young boy staring at her occasionally, innocently or not, and would proceed to make an example out of him.

He would save her homework assignments to the end, eager to see her opinions and problem-solving. They were both terrible, but he passed her anyway. Her analysis lacked any original thought, she only regurgitated what previous men in power thought. Her disinterest in the class was evident, but he still wrote ‘great job’ on her papers only to see her smile.

It occurred to him, however, that if he kept passing her, he would no longer have her in his class. She was set to graduate at the end of the semester, and he might not see her again. So he began to fail her homework assignments and even essays that were worth a pass.

He watched her face as it sagged when she received her first fail. He hated to disappoint her, but it was for her own good. The longer she was in his class, the more she would warm to him.

She was embarrassed, hiding her paper in her book bag.

She began taking notes again in class. Their eyes would meet and Coriolanus could feel himself turn into putty every time she would glance up to look at him.

It happened twice, he would get so lost just staring at her that he forgot where he was going with his sentence or tune out a student asking him a question.

Twice was enough to decide that his little blossom had to come home with him, where he could give her the appreciation she deserved. He hated to see her so stressed out over these assignments. He wanted to kiss her brows as they furrowed trying to understand the content.

“It didn’t matter, darling. Don’t worry about it,” he wanted to say, but instead he put a red line through her work.

One lecture she did nothing but stare at him.

“Professor Snow?” She approached him timidly with her paper in her hands.

“Yes, honey?” It was not an appropriate way to address a student, but she was more than that.

“I was wondering if you could take another look at my paper?”

He took it from her soft hold and pretended to review it. She stood so close, he could smell her perfume.

“What about this deserves a higher grade?”

“I got nearly a zero, sir. I met all the criteria.”

“No. Hobbes and Rousseau met the criteria and you copied them. Philosophers I taught about in this class, so I have very little interest in re-reading them in your poor and clunky paraphrasing.”

Her shoulder dropped and tears welled in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He stood up from his chair and took her into his arms, yet another thing that would be disapproved of by the school board.

“I am sorry.” She sobbed. Her tears felt so good upon his shirt. He would have kept her there longer but she pulled away, embarrassed.

“I am sorry. I am being silly. It just seems like no matter how hard I try, I keep failing.” More tears run down her cheeks, making Coriolanus want to pull her back into his arms. He was left with no choice but to cross them over his chest.

“I tried so hard. I spent weeks on this assignment only to get four percent more than a person who never turned it in at all!”

“I understand, blossom, but I asked you what you thought about the constant state of war. Not what Hobbes thought.”

She nods her head looking defeated. Her body shifts to turn back to the door. He couldn’t let her leave upset with him.

He pulls her back by her arm and lifts her head up to his level, tipping up her chin.

“Hey, what do you think? Are people in a constant state of war with each other?”

He doesn’t remove his hands, liking their place.

She shrugs her shoulders, her voice small and meek, giving away how much she wanted to leave him.

“I don’t know. Hobbes said-”

“Forget Hobbes. What do you think would happen if we didn’t have laws governing us?”

He, for one, knows that he wouldn’t be wasting time asking philosophical questions that went over her head. He would pin her to the floor and have his way until his name was the only one she remembered, and then take her home to safety.

“I think people look for order. We would naturally form some type of governing system that would work for all.”

God, she was foolish.

“All people look for order? You don’t think anyone would hurt you if there were no repercussions?”

He could see he was scaring her so he backed off a bit. Letting his hands fall to his side.

“We live in the Capitol, sir. There’s no guarantee that they would be met with repercussions here.”

It was the first original thought he heard from her, and it wasn’t all the way incorrect. Corruption was prominent within the Capitol.

“I think people are good. Mostly. A few bad apples but…” she shrugs again, finishing her sentence before completion.

“And what should we do with the ‘bad apples’?”

What would she do to him?

Another shrug and her eyes go floating around the room.

“Help them, I guess.”

A grin spread across his face. She would comfort the wolf that ate her.

“Well,” he reaches across his desk for the paper and a pen. Although she was undeserving, he wrote a large A across the top. “I must say I disagree but the assignment is based on your perspective.”

He hands the paper to her who stands shocked, but with a great big smile across her face.

He would do anything to see her smile, even if it derailed his plans.

“Thank you, sir.”

His mind raced with ways to keep her close but the next class needed the room soon.

“You need extra help,” he takes his satchel off the floor and leads her to the door, “Come see me in my office on Tuesdays at 6.”

“I couldn’t sir. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

Coriolanus felt as though he might die if she didn’t agree to come.

“My measure as a teacher is based upon my worst performing student.”

He knew his words stung her and he hated to do it but soon he would only speak sweet words to her. Coddling her from the world they live in.

“I would be more than happy to have a one-on-one with you.”

—-------------

He dreamt of the upcoming Tuesday. The staff at the University were out for drinks and dinner so the office was always empty. He was completely alone with his girl. It made the long day worth it.

He sat next to her, too close, as he helped her complete his homework on his office desk.

She had asked him a question but it was lost upon his ears.

“Hm?” He hums absentmindedly, before clearing his throat and trying a harder and deeper ‘hm’.

“I am stuck on question 8.”

He leans over her to check the question.

“It’s C.”

“But why is it C?”

The question was simple, and Coriolanus was through with teaching for the day.

“The answer is just C.”

He gets up as she fills in the bubble.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“No, sir. Should I leave? I didn’t mean to interfere with your dinner.”

She goes to get up but she had only been there an hour. He wanted more time.

“Sit,” he told her, rushing over to hinder her chance of escape.

She doesn’t fight him, sitting down and dropping her homework back down.

“I’ll order something in. Finish your homework.”

He returns from his phone only to find that she had finished all her work.

Disappointment filled him. It would only take a few seconds to check it and then she would leave. He tries to act indifferent. Essay homework would now be given.

“Right, let's take a look.” With his guidance, the answers were all correct so his brain worked to make a reason to prolong her stay.

“Very good, angel,” he praised and she glowed under him.

“Now, your reading notes. I want to see that you picked up the right ideas.”

He holds his hand out. Praying that she had no notes to give him.

Her reaction told him she had not. Her shoulders shrunk, and her nose reddened.

“You did do your readings, did you not?” He teases.

“I was going to do it tomorrow morning,” she admits quietly.

He fakes disappointment. “Oh no, petal. That won’t do. I need to see that you are understanding the content. Readings are crucial to your learning.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to have it done.”

He shakes his head although he could laugh giddily.

“Take your book out and begin.”

She looked like a kicked cat as she started her readings.

He remains close, marking other students' work next to her. He takes a break to retrieve the food when it arrives but her eyes never stray from the page.

The food was lukewarm and nothing special but he acted as if it was the best thing he had ever eaten.

He holds his fork out to her, hopeful but she politely declines, stating that she isn’t hungry.

“You’re going to make me eat alone?” He asks, already opening all the containers on the desk.

“I should really finish and go home. My parents are waiting for me.”

“You don’t live in student accommodation?” He knew this already but confessing he did could seem obsessive.

“No. My parents don’t live far so it's easy for me to commute.''

He hands her a plastic fork now that she is distracted from her work and she takes it.

“What are your plans after graduation?”

He imagined her in his home pregnant.

“I am not sure. My father wants me to take over the family business, but I’m not sure it’s for me.”

The family business sold high-end jewelry. She was always adorned in it.

“Why?” he pushes.

She avoids his eyes again as she speaks.

“I would like to do something that helps people,” she admits.

“But you chose a business major?” Under a normal student/professor relationship he would not have known that without her telling him. But he spent hours going over her academic record. Her grades were not great, but they didn’t need to be. He would look after her.

“My father chose a business major, I just completed it.”

She pushes her food away and brings back her textbook, “Well, almost. This class is the only one I have to complete to graduate.”

“Better get back to studying then.”

He cleans up the food. He had no appetite either.

It was good to know that she was susceptible to influence. If she did what her father wanted, as her husband, she would cause him little trouble.

She yawns and he supposed he had kept her long enough. It was only a full workday before he could see her in class again. He wondered if he could devise a plan to see her on weekends. But for now, he bid her goodnight and saw her off in her car.

They continued their Tuesday nights. Coriolanus even managed to get her to come in some Saturdays before a big test. He helped her not only with his class but all she signed up for. Coriolanus was blessed with an academic mind and found her business major incredibly easy while she struggled with proposals and understanding key learning criteria. It worked well for him seeing her nearly three times a week. He was beginning to think he would be able to pass her after all. The sooner she graduates, the sooner their student/teacher relationship ends and something more could bloom.

When he entered class on Thursday, she was talking to another student. Another male student. It ruined his good mood completely.

He barked at everyone to sit down, and the other student, who Coriolanus never bothered to learn the name of, thankfully went back to his usual seat up in the stands.

He couldn’t help but glare at her during his lecture, along with slamming papers down on the desk too hard and manhandling University equipment.

Did she know of his affections for her, and was now using them against him for a passing grade? Coriolanus Snow would not be made a fool.

He spoke too fast for her to finish taking notes, leaving her to try to absorb information as much as she could. He dismissed the class after handing out the week's homework assignment, stopping by her desk last.

He places a hand up on her desk. “Stay,” he demands.

She leaves her packed bag by her feet as her classmates exit the room. The boy had the gall to wave goodbye but she only smiled back.

He knew he had no reason to be mad. Classmates talk. But he is mad. He is so furious.

He waits until the classroom is cleared before leaning closer with a fierce glare.

“Is my class a joke to you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me why after hours of wasting my time with you, you still manage to hand in something I can barely read, let alone pass?”

“What?” Her voice quivers. The grades were not released yet, so her hope for a pass was still standing.

“Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time studying I could have my nights back.”

As an only daughter, she was unused to being spoken to harshly. So the words of an authority figure upset with her quickly made her eyes water.

He wanted to pull her up from her seat and kiss her tears away, but she needed to know what she did was wrong.

“You’ll have to redo it.”

There goes her weekend and any plans with any boy, he thought.

She nods her head, “Yes, sir.”

“I want it on my desk by Monday morning.”

She nods again. Thinking it was over, she reached for her bag.

“Well?” He snaps. “Say thank you. I shouldn’t be giving you another chance.”

“Thank you, Professor Snow.” She mutters.

“What? Speak up,” he pushes.

“Thank you, Professor Snow,” she says more loudly.

“Go,” he flicks his hand towards the door and she rushes out.

Coriolanus didn’t want to leave for the week with her still mad at him, he had to make amends. So he waits in the multi-level parking garage. It took him a while to find her car, relieved that it was still there.

He waits for an hour, sitting on the hood of her car. When she does arrive, her eyes are red and puffy from crying. He felt terrible that he had caused her to bawl her eyes out for what was sure to have been an hour and a half.

“Professor Snow?” She questions, making her way to the car.

“Oh, precious. I am sorry.” She stood far enough in front of him that he could reach out and tug her forward into his hold.

“I just want what’s best for you, darling.” And it’s not that boy.

He proves he is stronger than her when she fails to break free from his hold.

With his grasp, he uses his right arm to stretch over her and pull her jaw up to look at him. His left arm wrapped around her shoulders keeping her pressed against his chest. A loose curl fell over his forehead and across his eyes.

“You were doing so well. You need to refocus, angel. We can study more together, you’ll get there.”

“You fail me for no reason”. Well, there was a reason. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend, honey.” His grip suddenly turns painful, causing her to squirm but he keeps her face still up towards him.

“Is he your friend too?”

“What are you talking about?”

The sound of footsteps echoing through the concrete building forced Coriolanus to release his hold. He would have trouble explaining to the school board why he thought this position was appropriate.

Another female student in tall heels makes her way up the slope. She had large headphones on that quieted the awful sound of her heels meeting the concrete floor, but it drowned further conversation between the two.

With Coriolanus off her, she unlocks her car, throwing her bag into the passenger seat.

“I won’t waste any more of your time, Professor Snow. Thank you for your help.”

If the other student had walked any faster, Coriolanus would have thrown open her car door and yanked her out. But even with the students' large headphones if she decided to scream it would be heard. So he steps out of the way, watching the sleek car go. He was left with an empty feeling and a quiet rage.

—---------------

He taps his pen against his desk while his other hand is pressed against his lips, propping him up. He had expected her to make her way to him by now. He had sent her a reminder message that their study session was still on.

He knew she would be here. She told him she hated studying at home. Her parents always distracted her. They loved their daughter and never put too much value on her schooling. Their money would take care of her before her husband came along. Her father would be happy for her to never marry and stay in the home, but he knew that he wouldn’t be around forever, and there would be a need to have someone else to look after her.

Coriolanus knew that they only bothered to send their daughter to University as a hunting ground for eligible bachelors. While not the intended fish, Coriolanus was certain he could win over her parents. But first, he had to win her over. And she was making it very difficult by not keeping their plans.

She was at the library, he was certain. Only 100 yards from his office. She would sit there until her assignment was done. He was sure to fail it again.

His chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes it back. He storms through the University without coming across another soul. It was late Saturday, and students and academics had long started their weekend. It was perfect for him. He wouldn’t mind if everyone else in the world died, so long as it left him and his girl. It was a sunny day, the temperature warm enough to stay outside in it. Once he found her, he would suggest that they lay a blanket on the field.

The library was dead. Capitol students were more interested in the social life of the University rather than the academic. He had expected that it was only her there, head burrowed into a book with her usual perplexed expression.

But through the book stands, he could see her sitting next to the boy from his class. They sat close together with books, coffee, and pens scattered over the table.

“Trust me, he wants you to write more formally. Try this-” she transcribes his words onto her paper and Coriolanus makes himself known.

“This is academic misconduct. You both could be expelled from the University.”

Maybe that’s what she needed. Her family would surely shun her and with no earning potential of her own, it would drive her into his arms.

“I was just helping.”

“You were just completing her assignment for her.”

She shook her head, going to speak, “No-”

“Shut up,” he spat.

He points to the young boy, “I want to speak to her alone. Leave.”

They both wait until the boy is far enough so their conversation won’t be heard.

She looks at Coriolanus with hopeful eyes.

“Sir, I-”

“You fucking slut.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, shocked.

“Whoring yourself out for an assignment. What would your parents think?”

She stands up behind the table, scooping her things into her arms.

“How dare you suggest that. He was helping me because you suck at your job.”

He crosses the table and grabs her by the arm to stop her from leaving.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.” She tugged against his hold but she was only a young woman, barely an adult, and he was a full-grown man.

“We are going to the Dean, and you can explain to him that the reason you cheated is because he hired me.”

He doesn’t let go of her arm, using it to lead her to his car. She doesn’t fight him. She was too stupid to realize that the Dean wouldn’t hear concerns of academic misconduct on a Saturday. Or that Coriolanus had darker intentions than penalizing her for colluding with another student.

He drove too fast through the city. Her hands clenched his leather seats but she said nothing to him the entire journey. When they arrive at his skyrise and the gates open to his carport, she sobers to the idea that she might be in danger.

“Where are we?” She asks as he parks the car.

“Get out of the car,” he demands, unclipping his seat belt.

She follows him willingly into the elevator and up to his penthouse.

“Professor Snow, why are we here?”

He slams the door shut behind her and uses the solidified door to push her up against it.

“You are so fucking dumb, you know that? I’ve never seen anymore more undeserving of a place at the University than you.”

He had his hand on her neck to keep her there but added no pressure to hurt her.

“What was your plan with that boy? Use him to graduate and then get knocked up by him? Force him to marry you?”

“No! I didn’t have a plan. We’re just friends.” Her small hands go up around his wrists.

“Well, I don’t like you being ‘just friends’ with him. You’re never to see him again.”

She nodded as much as she could in her position.

“Okay, sir. Just please let me go. My family are expecting me home.”

Now that she was here, he didn’t like the idea of any other place being her home.

“Take your phone out of your pocket and tell your parents that you’re spending the weekend at Sophie's.”

Sophie was her best friend. She spoke of her often but Coriolanus had never met her.

She does as she was told, and Coriolanus leans in closer to watch her type the message on the family group chat. She was an adult and could stay where she pleased, so long as it was a preapproved place by her father, and Sophie’s was.

He takes the phone, pocketing it and releasing her from the door.

Her hand reached back to open it but the lock sprang up.

“Why did I have to tell them that?” She questions.

He knew now, and forever more, he was going to have to spell things out for her.

“We’ve had a terrible fight and now just need time to regather ourselves.”

He walks towards the open kitchen expecting her to follow.

“I am sorry. You can tell the Dean. I’ll be expelled for misconduct.”

“You think I care about academic misconduct? What do you think we were doing these past few weeks? I was doing your homework.”

She followed him to the kitchen now, and he could feel her presence behind him as he reached into the fridge for one of the fizzy drinks she liked. He stocked up in case she ever did decide to come over.

“What are you doing? Let me out then.”

He cracked open the tin and took a sip. It was sweet and too bubbly for his liking.

“Your parents sent you to school to find a husband. I think it’s time you found one.”

“I told you, I wasn't flirting with him!” She protested.

“Me, you dumb girl.”

She looked taken back. She steps back away from him, her eyes wide and frightened.

“You? Professor Snow-”

“I think given everything, you can call me Coriolanus, sweetheart.”

She retreats to the living room to create some distance.

“I am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

He scoffs at her, placing the can on the kitchen island and following her to where she stood.

“I won’t tell anyone about this,” she offers, “Just open the door.”

He chooses to sit, pulling her down on top of him. Her dress rises up to her thighs and he takes a second to run his hands up and down them. He helps her position her legs around his waist before holding her down by her hips.

“You don’t find me handsome, is that it?” He asks. He saw the way she looked at him when she thought he couldn’t see her. He knew she wasn’t immune to his natural good looks.

“Please, Professor Snow. I just want to go home.”

“Oh, love. You’re going to be staying here now with me, darling.”

“No. No I can't, I have to go home.”

Coriolanus shakes his head. “This is your home now, beautiful.”

He really hated to see her cry.

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” He reaches up and wipes the tears as they fall.

Her jewelry jingles as she runs her hands through her hair. For the first time, it bothered Coriolanus. It felt as though the jewelry was symbolic of her father's hold over her. She was Coriolanus' property now. Her chains belonged to him.

He began by sliding her gold bangles off her wrists and unclipping the delicate bracelets that hid in between them. He let them fall around him, unbothered. She doesn’t stop him as he reaches for her necklace and earrings.

He smiles up at her now that she is bare from her jewelry. He slides his hands up to the back of her shoulders and pushes her to rest on his chest.

—-------------

Coriolanus took the week off work to help her settle. He woke up early this morning next to her and went to get her favorite breakfast sandwich from a nearby café.

The line was long so when he returned home, he knew she would be up.

“Are you hungry, petal? I got us some food,” he calls out.

He places the food on the table, upon hearing no reply.

“Petal?” He calls. “Sweetheart?”

He searches his apartment to find her sitting by the door to the greenhouse, crying. He crouches down next to an expensive marble statue that she had used as a battering ram.

“Well, why did you break it if you didn’t want it broken?” He spoke to her as if he was speaking to a child.

“It wouldn’t break,’’ she sobbed. “I couldn’t get it to crack open.”

He taps against the reinforced glass that has only minor cracks.

“It’s tough,” he consoles. If anyone else would have broken his things, he would have gone berserk, but she had free reign to smash and destroy what she liked.

“Come here,” he picks her up by her arms, forcing her to her feet and back into the bedroom.

“I want to go home to my parents,” she cried.

“I am not keeping you from your parents, petal” he says, placing her back into bed, “We’ll go visit them when you feel better.”

She curls into her side and he places himself behind her, halfway on top of her so he could speak gently into her ear.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you? Make your father proud of the man you’ve chosen? All your parents want is for you to be married. You could give it to them and never have to worry about a single thing again.”

She uncurls herself slightly, encouraging him to keep going.

“I’ll make sure you pass all your classes. Have the finest things. All you need to do is be my good little girl. So easy, even you could do it.”

He knew she had deep anxiety about the future. He could offer her a world, where all of the if’s were disintegrated. She was interested in it, flipping on her back to look up at him.

“We’ll wait until you graduate to announce our relationship. We’ll tell your parents tonight.” He wanted to strike while she was still in a deluded state. “You’ll move in. Become my personal assistant after graduation. You said you wanted to help people. Help me. Your dad will be so proud of you.”

He clouded her mind. It was an easy way out from everything that troubled her, offered by a man who she had crushed on but never thought she could have.

She nods her head, even before she was aware of it. Only the crushing feeling of his lips against hers brought her head movements to attention.

They both returned to the classroom on Thursday for the final exam. Her mind knew that Coriolanus was not right in the head. That he couldn’t love like a normal person. But it was too late. Her parents approved of the relationship. Her father was glad that it was an older, successful man rather than an immature young boy. And her mother was glad that he was handsome and rich. It would disappoint them, despite the circumstances of the relationship, to break it off. Coriolanus had already promised them a wedding by the end of the following year. Coriolanus acted indifferent to her in class, not even looking at her as he placed the exam paper down in front of her. It was already filled out with the answers. All she had to do was sit there for an hour pretending. Nevertheless, that night they celebrated her achievement. Coriolanus told her how smart she was, and that her grades placed her at the top of his class. And his work ensured that she at least passed the rest of hers. The rest of the school year was spent organizing a graduation party while Coriolanus handed in work with her name on it. This life was easy, but came at a price. Her life was no longer hers. Coriolanus played with it like a doll.

Everything was done together or not at all. He considered her his, and as such, expected everything she did to be run past him first.

“Yes, Professor Snow.” She would tease him when he gave her an outright demand, instead of dressing it up with sweet talk.

He left his position at the University to his successor, much like Dr Gaul did. He had bigger things to focus on. His presidential run and growing family took precedence over teaching military theory and the likes of Hobbes and Rousseau. He laughed at her when she failed to remember the ideas of Hobbes. His dumb, naive little girl never had to worry about the state of warre that plagued mankind. He would protect her from humanity in its entirety.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #professor Snow

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adekalyn · 9 months ago

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*Bathroom flooded to waist level*

Professor McGonagall: Look at this bathroom! What on earth were you doing?!

James: Nothing Professor! I was just in here looking for dental floss, when plooie! The faucet handle blows sky high all by itself! It…it…uh…

Sirius, scoffing: James was fooling around with spells. I tried to stop him, of course, but he wouldn’t listen, and sure enough he went and…and…

Professor McGonagall: One more try.

Remus: Aliens, Professor! Big, evil, bug-eyed monsters from Pluto. They did it, and made us swear not to tell!

#incorrect quotes #harry potter #sirius black #gryffindor #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts #marauders era #remus #remus lupin #sirius being sirius #sirius #james being james #james #james potter #marauders #professor mcgonagall #calvin and hobbes

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french-unknown · 2 months ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

✔️ : complet 🔥 : smut

[ masterlist ]

✧ 𝐎𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬_𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬_𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨_𝐇 🔥✔️

words : 67,851 Will imagined his death in numerous ways, numerous times. Being chosen as a tribute opened a road of new possibilities, some more horrifying than the others. He doesn’t want to be torn to pieces like Randall Tier’s prey. He doesn’t want to be burned like Francis Dolarhyde prefers to kill. But most of all he doesn’t want to be caught by Hannibal Lecter, a career tribute with a penchant for eating his victims alive. Too bad Hannibal seems fixated on him. Hunger Games!AU

✧ 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 72,515 After Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Will can't reconcile Abigail's death. He's done - with all of it. He needs to escape, to return to the only place he has ever felt safe and wanted. That place ends up being a sleepy town on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, where he spent one summer as a child, exchanging riddles and letters with his dearest friend: the Shadow Man.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 10,502 When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks... Season 1 AU - if Hannibal wasn't such a MASSIVE dick.

✧ 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 21,753 When Hannibal pops up next to Will in an FBI Academy graduation photo, the result is innocent enough...until Will's coworkers play with photoshop and make the image so much worse. Will would laugh it off, but it seems he can't take a picture without Hannibal showing up in the background. Can Will shake his persistent photo buddy? And more importantly...does he want to?

✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 ✔️

words : 8,945 1st : Online classes due to the quarantine are how Professor Graham's students learn that: 1) Professor Graham has a cute dog; 2) Professor Graham is married; and 3) Professor Graham's husband is smoking hot. 2nd : Online conferences due to the quarantine are how Doctor Lecter's colleagues learn that: 1) Doctor Lecter has a beautiful home; 2) Doctor Lecter is married; and 3) Doctor Lecter's husband is fabulously buff.

✧ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞) 𝐛𝐲 @𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨 ✔️

words : 8,114 Hannibal is locked up in the Baltimore Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Supposedly he's in maximum security but he pretty much just breaks out and leaves any time it suits him. And it suits him to break out whenever he thinks Will needs him. I mean, they forgot Will's birthday! Come on, wouldn't you?

✧ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 🔥✔️

words : 7,775 Imagine Will calling Hannibal’s cell phone after he’s incarcerated just to hear Hannibal’s voice on his voicemail. Imagine Will leaving Hannibal voicemails about how he wishes things had turned out differently. Imagine Will spilling his heart out to Hannibal’s voicemail, assuming that the man himself will never hear them. Imagine Hannibal listening to these messages.

✧ 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 36,059 "Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬 ✔️

words : 17,120 After using an Unforgivable to end the wizard hunt for Hobbs, top Auror Will Graham has been suspended for a year from office to teach the children of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though initially reluctant to delay his hunt for the Ripper, his misgivings rapidly fade after befriending the Potions Professor and former doctor, Hannibal Lecter.

✧ 𝐏𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐛𝐲 @𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐞𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 18,989 Will has spent the first 18 years of his life starving. He finally finds what he’s been craving.

✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐁_𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 🔥✔️

words : 5,271 It all started with the lack of touch. It first happened when Will healed. There was no more excuses for touching, then. The stitches came out, Will's shoulder was moving fine and his face was still pretty. A tiny line that could be easily covered by his beard. Or... When Hannibal refuses to touch Will, Will starts to attract strange womans (and mans) to their house to have sex with them. The cannibal is not pleased.

✧ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 49,159 Prompt fill for insecure post-Fall Will. After the Fall, Will realizes he doesn’t quite share Hannibal’s capacity for cruelty. He isn’t sure he’ll get to keep him without it.

For those who don't know, because I discovered it really by chance, there is a kind of extended universe of hannigram where the characters of Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy are shipped even if their characters are not in the same works.

Spacedogs is therefore the pairing between Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen) in Charlie Countryman and Adam (Hugh Dancy) in Adam.

To summarize, it's gangster! Nigel x autistic asperger! adam

✧ 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 28,512 Nigel isn't handling his divorce well. When a good Samaritan starts leaving him gifts on his balcony, Nigel gets suspicious. What could go wrong?

✧ 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 55,651 Nigel moves to America when he's 10 years old. He hates every second of it. But when a kid in his class slaps a Post It note with a space fact on Nigel's back - his whole world changes. Nigel gets a new best friend, a new hobby, and a love story that he's not sure has a happy ending. Is it possible to meet the love of your life at 10? Nigel's about to find out.

✧ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 14,279 Immediately, the small bit of tension he'd been carrying in his neck began to unwind. He sighed into the plushie's shoulder, nosing at the collar of the shirt, and allowed his weight to fall upon it completely. It was propped up against the wall, making it easier to recline against. A smile crept across his face without his intention, and he knew immediately that he wouldn't be returning the bear or the shirt, not for a few more days at least. His eyes had just begun to flutter shut when he heard the distinct sound of a closing door and expensive shoes tapping against the wooden flooring. The walls were thin, he heard most noises that came from the apartment adjacent to his. Nigel was home. ____ Adam and Nigel are next-door neighbors in an apartment with very thin walls. By mistake, Adam ends up with a person-sized plushie that he just doesn't feel like getting rid of. As Adam's obsessive feelings towards his neighbor grow, as well as his collection of items he's stolen from the other man's apartment, he finds himself using the plushie as a stand-in.

✧ 𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐥 🔥✔️

words : 42,036 An unusual pairing of a thuggish psychopath and a sweet yet sheltered man with Asperger's syndrome. Loosely follows the plots of both movies the character are based from, but ignores a lot of the other characters in either(ie no Gabi, no Charlie, no Beth, etc....). Set in Manhattan but Nigel falls in love with Adam the way he fell in love with Gabi.

#recommendations #ao3 #ao3 recs #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannigram #will graham #spacedogs #nigel banyai #charlie countryman #adam raki #adam

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strawb4kdior · 10 days ago

Text

Chapter Two: Rivals, Exes, and Secrets

parings: Vi x British Fem!reader

summary: and so the battle commenced, between classes and social life and even a peek into personal life - you become more frustrated while fighting about "rivals, exes and secrets"

a/n: hihihi gorgeous ppl - here's part 2 sorry it's a lil late!!! love you all so much 🩵🩵🩵

< part 1 part 3 >

Vi was a nightmare.

Not just because she was loud and insufferable. Not just because she insisted on mocking your accent every time you so much as opened your mouth. No—she was a nightmare because she was smart.

And that was a problem.

Because you were smart. Top of your class, highly disciplined, raised to believe that excellence was the bare minimum. You prided yourself on always being the best, always knowing the answer, always outshining everyone else.

Then Vi showed up.

And suddenly, you had competition.

The first real clash happened in your Political Theory lecture.

It was meant to be a straightforward discussion, but of course, Vi had to turn it into a debate.

“I’m just saying,” she argued, leaning back in her chair, “Locke’s whole theory about social contracts is a little too optimistic. People don’t just ‘agree’ to be governed because they trust each other. They do it because they don’t wanna get stabbed in their sleep.”

You scoffed. “That’s an incredibly cynical take. Hobbes argued for absolute sovereignty based on fear, but Locke’s view was about mutual benefit. The government exists because rational individuals seek stability, not because they’re all terrified of each other.”

Vi smirked. “Right, right. Because everyone’s just so rational all the time.”

“They are when it concerns their own self-interest,” you countered. “Which is the foundation of liberal democracy.”

Vi leaned forward, tapping her pen against the desk. “And yet, we still have corruption, wars, and people acting like complete idiots.”

You gave her a slow, pointed look. “Yes, well. Some people don’t even try to act rational.”

She grinned. “You talkin’ about me, princess?”

“If the shoe fits.”

The class laughed. The professor smiled. “Impressive arguments from both sides,” he said. “You two might want to consider debate club.”

You didn’t miss the way Vi turned her smirk into a full grin. You also didn’t miss the way it made your stomach twist, just a little.

And you definitely didn’t like that.

You didn’t care about sports. Not even a little. But especially not ice hockey.

Vi, however, lived for it.

You only found out because one of your professors had a habit of putting up student achievements on the bulletin board, and there, in bold letters, was "Violet ‘Vi’ K.’s Hat Trick Secures Victory for the Piltover Blades."

You scoffed when you saw it. Of course she was an athlete. She had that unbearable overconfidence of someone who was used to winning, and the reckless energy of someone who probably got into fights for fun.

Still, you hadn’t expected people to care so much.

As you walked down the corridor, a group of students practically swarmed her, gushing over last night’s game.

“That was insane, Vi,” one of them said. “That last goal—unreal.”

Vi slung an arm over their shoulder casually. “What can I say? I’m just built different.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, truly remarkable. Hitting a puck with a stick. Groundbreaking.”

Vi turned to you with a slow grin. “Aw, princess, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

You scoffed. “Not even remotely. I have no interest in hockey.”

Vi tilted her head, amused. “Then what do you like? Tea parties?”

You lifted your chin. “Formula 1.”

Vi blinked. “Racing?”

“Yes. A real sport.”

Vi let out a laugh. “Ohhh, this is good. You—little Miss Posh—are into racing? Lemme guess, grew up with a Ferrari in the driveway?”

You crossed your arms. “McLaren, actually.”

Vi whistled. “Damn. No wonder you walk around like you own the place.”

Before you could retort, a voice interrupted. “Vi, leave her alone.”

You turned—and for the first time, noticed the girl standing beside Vi.

Tall. Elegant. Sharp blue eyes that immediately caught your attention.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

You recognized her, of course. Everyone did. She was one of the smartest students in the entire university. She was also, unfortunately, stunning.

Vi, however, just smirked. “What, I can’t have a little fun?”

Caitlyn sighed, turning to you instead. “Don’t let her get under your skin. She��s an idiot.”

You blinked. “That much is obvious.”

Vi clutched her chest dramatically. “Wow. You two teaming up against me already? I feel so betrayed.”

Caitlyn ignored her, offering you a small smile. “I’m Caitlyn, by the way.”

You returned the smile. “I know. You’re practically famous.”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Well, I try.”

You didn’t miss the way Vi’s smirk faltered slightly.

Interesting.

It was late. The library was quiet. You had settled into your usual spot—far from distractions, focused entirely on your notes—when, of course, Vi showed up.

She plopped down into the seat across from you, dropping her books onto the table with a thud.

You looked up, unimpressed. “Do you have to be so loud?”

Vi grinned. “What, you don’t like a little excitement?”

“In a library? No. I don’t.”

She leaned back, flipping open a textbook. “Relax, princess. I’m here to study.”

You raised a skeptical brow. “You? Study?”

Vi smirked. “Surprised?”

“Shocked, actually.”

Vi snorted, but then, to your actual surprise, she did start studying. And worse? She was good at it. She worked through equations like they were nothing, scribbled notes with the kind of focus you recognized all too well.

After a while, she caught you staring. “What?”

You hesitated. “Nothing.”

Vi’s smirk returned. “You impressed, princess?”

You huffed. “Not in the slightest.”

She chuckled. “Liar.”

The problem with Vi wasn’t just that she was annoying. Or competitive. Or loud.

The problem was that, sometimes, when she wasn’t being insufferable, when she wasn’t smirking like she ruled the world—she was charming.

And that was dangerous.

Because no one knew your secret.

Not your parents. Not your friends.

Not even yourself, until recently.

And the last thing you needed… was Vi making you feel something you weren’t ready to admit.

The days seemed to blur together, the slow hum of lectures and the constant rivalries filling the air. As much as you tried to ignore it, Vi had a knack for being around at the worst possible moments. It wasn’t just her loud voice or her constant jabs at your accent—it was the way she was always there, always present in everything you did.

But there was something else, something you didn’t want to admit: you were starting to feel that strange pull between you and her. It wasn’t just about the way she mocked you. It was the way she cared, in her own messed-up way.

And then there was Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Kiramman—Vi’s ex. Of course, Vi had been the one to tell you that. You weren’t sure whether it was out of bitterness or some strange sense of protection, but Caitlyn was a constant topic of conversation in the dorm.

It wasn’t like you were trying to replace Caitlyn. Far from it. You had a lot of respect for Caitlyn. Smart, calm, and confident, she had everything you admired. And even though Vi made sure to keep her distance, Caitlyn seemed to make her presence known in more ways than one.

It started with small interactions. Caitlyn would bump into you in the halls, offer a warm smile, and ask if you needed help with anything. She wasn’t just book smart—she was charming, in a way you hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, as you were grabbing coffee from the library, Caitlyn waved you down. You’d been buried in work all day, but there was something comforting about her presence.

“Hey,” Caitlyn greeted you with that same easy smile. “How’s your week been so far?”

You smiled back, trying not to get too caught up in the way her eyes sparkled. “Busy. But manageable. What about you?”

“Same,” Caitlyn replied, slipping into the seat beside you. “Though I was hoping you could help me with something.”

You looked at her curiously. “What do you need?”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I need a second opinion on something... A personal project, actually.”

You leaned in slightly. “I’m all ears.”

Caitlyn lowered her voice, and for the first time, you saw her as more than just a smart student—she was vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. “Vi and I... we don’t really talk anymore, but she’s been sending me all these mixed signals. I need to figure out where we stand.”

You blinked, completely thrown off guard. “Wait, you and Vi… are you two still—”

Caitlyn shook her head quickly. “No. Not at all. But I’m starting to think I might still have feelings for her.”

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the tension growing between you. “Well, if you want my advice, I’d say to leave it in the past. Vi’s the type of person who doesn’t know how to make things easy.”

Caitlyn chuckled softly, her eyes briefly meeting yours. “I know. But sometimes, I wonder if she’s changed.”

Before you could respond, a loud voice interrupted from behind you.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s making new friends.”

You turned around to find Vi standing there, arms crossed, a sly grin on her face.

“Vi,” Caitlyn said flatly. “You’re not still stalking me, are you?”

Vi shrugged, her eyes flicking toward you. “Nah, just passing by. I heard someone was talking about me.”

You shot her a sharp look. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Vi shot back, her smirk widening. “Caitlyn and I have a lot of history. I mean, it’s cute you think I’d actually be jealous of you hanging out with her, but trust me, princess, you’re not my type.”

You felt your teeth clench. What was it about this woman that could get under your skin so easily? “Well, I’m not interested in you, either.”

Vi’s expression shifted slightly, as if she was genuinely taken aback by the bluntness. She quickly masked it with another grin. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to get confused, now would we?”

You stood up, cutting the conversation short, and left the coffee shop without looking back.

That night, after finishing your classwork, you were in the kitchen preparing dinner. A simple meal of fish and pasta—it was the one thing you could make without messing up. You focused on the sizzle of the fish as it hit the pan, the smells of garlic and butter filling the apartment.

You didn’t even notice Vi slip into the kitchen until she was leaning against the counter, her arms folded, watching you.

You ignored her, concentrating on the food.

“Making something fancy, huh?” Vi said, her voice teasing. “You do know how to cook, princess?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m making dinner. That’s all.”

She stepped closer, her presence filling the space. “What, no tea with your fish? You’re all British and proper, don’t you want a nice cuppa to go with it?”

You took a deep breath, trying not to snap. “Can you not start with the accent thing again?”

Vi shrugged nonchalantly. “Just saying, it’s cute. You sound like you belong in a Downton Abbey episode or something.”

“Right. Because mocking people’s accents is so charming.” You turned to face her, your voice sharp. “Do you have nothing better to do than bother me all the time?”

Vi narrowed her eyes. “What’s with the attitude all of a sudden? You’ve been hanging out with Caitlyn a lot lately. Funny how that works, huh?”

The words hit harder than you expected. Your chest tightened, the sting of Vi’s jealousy—if it was jealousy—piercing through you. “It’s none of your business who I hang out with,” you snapped. “Not everything I do is about you, Vi.”

Vi’s lips curled up into a smirk. “Maybe not, but you do know Caitlyn and I have history. And I bet you’re trying to figure out how much of that you can actually replace.”

You didn’t know why it got under your skin so much, but it did. Maybe it was because she was right. You had been spending a lot of time with Caitlyn, and you did want to know what was going on in her mind about Vi. But Vi didn’t need to know that.

“I’m not replacing anyone,” you shot back, your voice shaking with anger. “I’m just trying to make friends.”

Vi smirked. “Right. Friends.”

You turned back to the stove, but in the heat of the argument, you lost focus. You reached out to move the pan and your hand brushed against the edge of the hot stove.

A sharp pain shot through your fingers, and you yelped, stumbling backward. “Dammit!”

Vi’s face dropped for a moment. “Shit, you okay?”

But you were too angry to care. The burn was nothing compared to the heat of the argument. You glared at her, the anger boiling inside you.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, holding your hand to your chest. “This is just great, thanks to you.”

As you started to turn to walk toward the bathroom, you heard Vi’s voice call out from behind you.

“We don’t all have loving families we can go run and cry to.”

The words hit you like a slap, and you froze.

You didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to feel the sharpness of what she had said, but you couldn’t help it. Your throat tightened. You didn’t have a loving family—at least not in the way Vi meant.

Without turning back, you pushed through the door and into the bathroom, locking it behind you.

And for the first time, you wondered if there was more to Vi’s words than just her usual insults.

#wlw #arcane #lesbian #vi league of legends #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #vi #vi x you #vi x female reader #arcane vi

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sallowedbethyname · 22 days ago

Text

[sebastian sallow x mc] to be home, to be loved ch.3

excerpt:

Ominis Gaunt arrived seven days after you and Sebastian had settled in Professor Fig's house. He was dressed in black from head to toe and there were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Still, when Sebastian opened the door and Ominis sensed his best friend and you, relief washed over him. Pale face brightened up, taut shoulders grew slack, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his back.

tags: found family, friends to lovers, characters will age, eventual smut, child abuse

read chapter 2

read on ao3

“Hello, you two, glad I didn't end up in the wrong house.”

Sebastian grinned. “Good to see you again, Ominis.”

You opened the door wider for him. “Come in, Ominis, we've been waiting for you.”

Slowly, the blond-haired boy stepped into the house, halting just after a few steps inside. You looked at him curiously, wondering why he hesitated.

“This house feels warm,” Ominis murmured. “And welcoming.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. “It is, isn't it? It's what I felt, too, the first time I came here,” you softly said. “Ah, your room is upstairs. It's the largest in this house. Sebastian had been generous.”

“No more sleeping in the same bed, Ominis. Ain't that fun?”

The blond boy smiled. “What a pleasant surprise. I can sleep peacefully knowing I no longer need to hear your snores.”

“Hey! I didn't snore!” Sebastian protested, his face reddening as he turned to you. “You've never heard of me snoring, did you?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. “Well, no…”

“See? I told you!”

“But I am a heavy sleeper and we slept on different floors, so… I don't know, maybe you do snore but I didn't hear it, Sebastian.”

“No, nope, you can't pull that on me. If you didn't hear anything, then I didn't snore. And don't forget how you slept soundly on our first night here,” the brown haired boy retorted defensively.

No longer able to hold back yourself, you threw your head back and laughed, the sound rang pleasantly across the living room. You couldn't help it, Sebastian was just too fun to tease.

“What happened on your first night here?” Ominis curiously asked.

“Neither of us could sleep so we read some books in the living room and fell asleep there,” you explained.

“Oh,” the blond haired boy hummed, a thoughtful expression settled on his face.

“Ugh, instead of bullying me, why don't we go to your room, Ominis? Unless you don't want it, which I'll gladly take,” Sebastian spoke, still pouting.

“There's nothing more dishonorable than someone who goes back on their words,” Ominis sighed.

After a few more banter, the three of you finally climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Hobbs dutifully followed behind, using his magic to make Ominis' belonging float and follow their owner into the room. Much to your relief, Ominis seemed to be satisfied with his accommodation. A soft smile bloomed on his lips, followed by an appreciative nod, after he spent a few seconds standing in the middle of the room, his almost sentient wand stretched out and emanated the usual crimson glow.

“This is a good place, thank you.”

Professor Fig's house became a lot livelier since Ominis' arrival, mostly thanks to his bickering with Sebastian. They did it almost all the time and you treated it as free entertainment, switching sides every now and then depending on how interesting the topic was and whose opinion resonated the most with you. They'd bicker about school, about which was worse — bubotuber pus or troll booger, about the feasibility of owning a pet niffler, and so on, and so forth.

“You need to learn to pick a side,” Sebastian said one day, as the three of you went out and took a walk along the small creek near the house. “This morning, you supported me, but then you were Ominis' most passionate supporter by lunchtime. Disloyalty is a bad trait, you know.”

“I am simply a humble critical audience. It is bad to blindly accept anything that was given to you without critical thinking, you know,” you replied lightly.

“In other words, you have terrible opinions,” Ominis piped in.

“Great people don't become great by conforming to the standards of society,” Sebastian retorted, kicking a small pebble that fell into the river with a satisfying wet sound.

You let out a laugh, slowing your steps while the two boys continued walking and arguing to themselves. Something warm spread in your chest as you watched the two of them walk side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally and still very much engrossed in their conversation. Faintly, you wondered if this was what they were like before. If it was, then you were glad they could have a semblance of normalcy back. Heaven knew both of them needed it.

The long walk led you to a small green field. It wasn't anything impressive, but green enough that the three of you decided to lay down on the grass and watch as the pure white clouds passed you by. Soon, you and Sebastian began to bicker about the shapes of clouds in the sky, with Ominis giving dry comments every once in a while, before the conversation halted to a stop.

Silence stretched for a while as you enjoyed the breeze, the smell of the grass and river, and the sound of chirping birds. You thought you could drift away to sleep like this and you wondered, it wouldn't be so bad if you never woke up.

And that caused you to open your eyes, surprised by what you were thinking.

“I'm thinking of finally visiting Professor Fig's grave,” you finally spoke, announcing your plans to your friends.

Sebastian's eyes snapped open and Ominis turned his face to your direction.

“You hadn't visited him at all?” the blond haired boy asked.

“No, I… I wasn't ready.”

“We can go with you if you want,” Sebastian offered. “Three is better than one, don't you think?”

You had never considered visiting your mentor's grave with Sebastian and Ominis. Neither of them were close enough to the late Professor and you were more worried about them feeling awkward as you cried your eyes out in front of the grave. But perhaps… it wasn't such a bad idea. It would be nice to have friends by your side while you did something daunting.

“I'd like that,” you finally said, smiling. “Perhaps next week? I still think I need more time.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Eleazar Fig was laid to rest in a public cemetery not too far from his house. His grave was on the right side of the cemetery, seven rows from the entrance gate, right next to Miriam Fig.

As promised, Sebastian and Ominis went along with you, the two boys flanking your side as you stood before the grave.

You had expected many things, to be honest. Had imagined that you'd break down into tears as soon as you arrived. Had prepared a speech or a prayer you'd deliver to your mentor and his wife. But now, as you traced the carvings upon the tombstones, you felt… nothing.

You figured your brain was struggling to equate this gray stone grave to your professor. Once again having trouble that he was truly gone and you could no longer hear his wise counsel. Such a strange thing, death, you thought with the inevitability of it all, it'd be easier to comprehend, to accept. But it didn't.

The silence continued to stretch. You lifted up your wand and tried to cast a spell you taught yourself before school ended. Softly, you whispered it to the wind and a single white rose began to materialize, followed by other buds, stems, and leaves. The roses began to gather, forming a simple little bouquet wrapped in paper wrapping. Carefully, you brought the bouquet to your nose, relishing the smell, before lowering it to Fig's grave.

“Hello, Professor, it's been a while.”

The words felt foreign in your mouth. Pretentious and out of place, because neither Fig nor his grave could hear you and be moved by your greetings. So who were you talking to? What was the point, if neither the sentiment nor feelings could reach the person you intended?

You didn't realize that your breathing had become shallow and hurried. Your knees buckled, eager to run back home.

But then, Ominis did something you didn't expect.

He lifted up his wand and conjured a bouquet of gardenias. You could only watch in silence as the bouquet floated mid-air before it descended right next to yours. Not a moment later, Sebastian did the same thing. This time, a white daffodil bouquet. They all laid side by side right below Professor Fig and Miriam’s tombstones. The white petals brushed against their names.

“Thank you. I… I know I should say something but I just couldn't,” you admitted in embarrassment. “Can we sit here for a while instead?”

“Of course! You don't even need to ask,” Sebastian said in surprise. “We can stay here for as long as you need.”

Once again, a huge wave of gratitude washed over you, almost big enough to bring tears to your eyes. But you stubbornly held on. The three of you then sat together in front of the grave, shoulders brushing against each other to protect yourselves from the cool wind.

“Sorry, I reckon a cemetery isn't exactly the best place to hang out.”

Sebastian let out a chuckle. “You're saying that as if we didn't spend most of our time exploring decrepit ruins, goblin factories, and catacombs.”

“Sebastian's right. You're never one to be conventional.”

That caused you to laugh. “It wasn't up to me! I very much prefer exploring flower fields.”

“I’d give it five minutes before you're raring to go back to the Forbidden Forest to find buried treasures.”

“Oh, hush, Sebastian.”

More laughter. You noticed Ominis tracing the edges of Fig's grave with his fingers, as if studying the shape and texture.

“This is nice,” the blond-haired boy quietly said. “My aunt Noctua, she… My family wasn't really interested in holding a proper burial for her, so… last week, I decided to make some sort of a memorial for her in a secluded corner in my garden. To this date… I still couldn't give her a proper eulogy.”

You kept your gaze at Ominis as he spoke, holding onto every word. It was then you were reminded of how death had been present among both you and your friends. You turned to look at Sebastian, who had been staring at the grave with an unreadable expression on his face.

Sensing your gaze, he looked at you and smiled. “I don't think my uncle would've appreciated me giving him a speech, let alone visiting his grave.”

“Merlin…” you muttered under your breath. “What is it with us and our families, or lack thereof…”

You furrowed your eyebrows as a sudden heaviness settled on your chest, weighing you down.

“Things like this are more common than they should, as unfortunate as it sounds,” Ominis said with a rueful smile on his face.

“You know, I…” you stammered, trying, despite the great difficulty, to get the words out. “I've always dreamed of having a family. A mother, a father, perhaps also a sister and a brother. God, I've always wanted a sister…”

You paused when your voice began to shake and you could almost feel the burn in your eyes. But you took a deep, steadying breath, still trying as best as you could not to cry.

“But when you've lived all your life in a sad, dilapidated orphanage where more children came instead of being adopted… growing older and older each year, watching as others were chosen instead of you, you would… you'd… you'd give up that dream altogether…”

You took another breath, the first drop of tear started to roll down your cheek. And another. And yet still, stubbornly, you tried to preserve your dignity. Still, you tried to hold back. You didn't know why you did it, unable to find the reason behind your aversion to letting your friends see you cry, but you couldn't resist the urge. You couldn't help but hold yourself back.

“But then the letter… Professor Fig's letter…” a sob tore its way out of your throat and you closed your eyes. Your shoulder began to shake as you remembered your deceased mentor’s face. The patience in his guidance. The encouragement you had never received before. “It is so, so cruel. I… I had never known that my dream was so— so close. It was almost within my grasp and… I would've had… would've had a— a father if he… if he—”

You couldn't take it anymore. You broke down. Wept into your hands as the grief you'd held back for so long finally wrecked your soul, tearing its way out of your shoulder, your spine, your chest.

But then a hand, strong and steady, wrapped itself around your shoulders, pulling you to the left. Your face was met with Sebastian's shoulder as he held you closely and securely. Another hand touched your back. Ominis. And you cried there, burying your face in Sebastian's shoulder. You wept so hard you almost forgot to breathe, if it weren't for Ominis’ soft, soothing reminders.

“He was… the first person that showed me kindness…” you sobbed. “I should've done more…”

“There's nothing you could've done!” Sebastian looked at you with surprise. “You told us everything happened so quickly. Ranrok came. The ceiling crumbled down. It was an accident… you… you can't blame yourself.”

“But if I had been quicker—”

“It wasn't your fault…” Ominis gently reminded you. “You've done the best you can, don't torture yourself with what-ifs.”

More tears rolled down your cheeks and you realized you had made Sebastian's shirt wet. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rubbed your eyes.

“I've made a mess on your shirt, I'm sorry.”

The boy let out a sigh, a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “You really shouldn't worry about me right now, ace. I'm fine.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying again. You failed. You sobbed into your hands.

“I'm sorry… I don't know why I can't stop, I—”

“You probably haven't quite given yourself the time to mourn for Professor Fig and it blew up on you now,” Ominis said in sympathy.

“It's okay… just let it out.”

It took around fifteen minutes before you could finally stop crying. You could still go on, you knew, for the wound was still fresh. Yet you didn't want to trouble your friends any longer, so you wiped your tears away and took several deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Thank you.”

“That's what friends are for, right?” Sebastian smiled.

Yet it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sebastian did not seem himself the next day and the day after that. He was quieter, his sarcastic and witty jabs were awfully weaker than they used to be, and whenever you and Ominis tried to include him in conversations, he would take a few seconds longer to respond, as if he hadn't been paying attention.

His silence, you realized, was so… palpable. Perhaps it didn't help that Ominis had always been more reserved and the fact that the house was a bit too large for three sad teenagers and a house-elf made every absence of spoken words so obvious.

By the third day, you decided you've had enough and, once again, you turned to Ominis for help.

“I think he's grieving,” the boy said as the two of you sat on the back porch while Sebastian napped the afternoon away in his bedroom.

“Anne?”

“...Naturally,” Ominis replied, though he didn't seem sure. His eyebrows were furrowed and he appeared to be deep in thought. “Although, I have a feeling he's also mourning his uncle.”

“Solomon?” you lowered your voice to a whisper. Cautiously, you looked back at the house, making sure that Sebastian was still asleep before scooting closer to Ominis. “To be honest, I've been thinking about that, too. The day we honored Professor Fig's passing in the Great Hall, he mentioned wishing the same could've been done to Solomon…”

“Our last visit to Feldcroft… he just stood over the grave, didn't say a word.”

“Well, what could he say?”

Ominis grimaced. “This situation is just so complicated. Too heavy. Solomon had never been nice to him, but he also…”

The blond boy let out a heavy sigh.

“If you were Sebastian, how would you grieve?”

You stayed quiet, eyes staring at the bees buzzing above the pot of hydrangeas as you pondered Ominis' question.

How do you mourn a person you hate? A person you've murdered?

The answer comes to mind much faster than you had liked.

You don't.

Suddenly, your hands and feet felt cold. You remembered the sea, the salt in the air, the rolling waves. You balled your hands into fists, nails digging painfully into the palm of your hands.

“What are you doing? What's wrong?”

Ominis' voice pulled you back to earth, just like a drowning person being pulled back to the surface.

“Nothing. I'm fine,” you lied. “I just… got a bit emotional.”

“...Huh,” the boy murmured with a strange look on his face.

“A- at any rate… what if we just ask him?”

“What if he refused to talk?”

“I'm good with persuasion,” you responded. “And if he still refuses, we'll give him space but remind him that we're here for him, ready to listen.”

Ominis pondered over your words for a moment. “You know… sometimes I feel that you're too pure for this world.”

“What?”

The boy shifted awkwardly as if regretting what he said. “It's just— each time you see a problem you itch to solve it, even if you don't have to.”

Hugging your knees close to your chest, you took a moment to answer. “I… feel like I really exist when I could be of help to other people.”

“Huh?” Ominis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I know, it's confusing, I just—”

But Ominis suddenly turned towards the direction of the house, looking alarmed. “Hush, Sebastian has woken up and is on his way here. Let's talk about something else.”

“Oh! Um—” you thought hard, glancing around your surroundings in panic. Your eyes stopped at the flowers. Immediately, you rambled. “Soo, each flower has its own meaning. Like the hydrangeas! It is said that they're a symbol of heartfelt emotion and apology. But daffodils, on the other hand, symbolizes rebirth, hope, and new beginnings—”

“What have you guys been up to?”

At Sebastian's voice, you turned around, pretending to be surprised. “Oh! Sebastian, you're awake.”

“She was explaining to me the different meanings of flowers… even though I don't know what flowers looked like,” Ominis answered.

The realization struck you a moment too late and you could do nothing but let out an awkward, sheepish laugh. Sebastian stood at the doorway, his hair all messy from sleep and his eyes were staring at the two of you in curiosity.

“You sure do pick interesting conversation topics when I'm not around.”

“Well, without you constantly rambling, we quickly ran out of things to talk about,” you replied with a small smile, hoping that the message would, somehow, get across.

Sebastian's eyes widened ever so slightly. Then, he gave you a smug smile.

“Are you saying you enjoy talking to me, ace?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I didn't say that. Don't jump to conclusions.”

He let out a chuckle. “Whatever you say, ace. Whatever you say.”

The opportunity to talk to Sebastian presented itself two days later, when the three of you finally decided to sort through Professor Fig's belongings. It had been a long afternoon and you had lost count of how many objects, artifacts, and books you had sorted through, particularly because you and Sebastian kept getting distracted by the magical artifacts, trying to figure out their purpose and how they work.

Eventually, the sun started to set and the three of you decided to call it a day. Dinner was served and everyone gorged on the delectable meal. Afterwards, the three of you sat side by side on the back porch, gazing at the stars, with a cup of hot chocolate in your hands.

You decided to speak first.

“It's been a long day, isn't it?”

“I'm not protesting. Fig had so many peculiar items, it's fun going through them,” Sebastian replied with a soft chuckle.

“We could've finished two rooms if the two of you aren't so easily distracted,” Ominis spoke, amusement lacing his tone. “But it was quite the experience.”

“I'd rather we take a month to finish sorting through the items, if it meant we can study each of them.”

You held back a grimace. As much as you love magic, spending an entire month covered in dust and sifting through Professor Fig’s near-infinite amount of belonging wasn't something you'd love to do. Perhaps two weeks. You found that to be a bit more tolerable.

Still, you straightened your back and managed a smile. “Yeah, we noticed. You've finally cheered up a little.”

Sebastian's eyes widened ever so slightly and for a split second, you could see it. The vulnerability flashing in his eyes. But he quickly masked it with a wide smile.

“What are you talking about? I'm fine.”

“I've known you for over five years, Sebastian, I can tell when you're lying. Frankly, she can tell, as well,” Ominis said in a calm voice.

You nodded. “Honestly, we're a bit worried, Sebastian. You don't need to keep everything bottled inside. We're here if you need to vent. Someone to listen to your problems and worries.”

Perhaps unused to the amount of worry directed to him, Sebastian began to shift uncomfortably. “I'm fine, though,” he insisted, still maintaining the smile on his lips. “Like I said, both of you needn't worry about me.”

“But of course we're going to be worried about you. You're our friend,” you said incredulously, eyebrows rising in surprise. “If you don't want to talk, we won't pry. But we'll always be with you if you need us. We've always managed to figure something out, haven't we?”

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, his breath hitching on his throat. “I—” he tried to come up with a reply. Perhaps a witty remark, perhaps an evasive joke. But the words you said had struck him to his core, hitting too close to home than what he preferred.

And with worry etched all over your face, how could he deny you?

A defeated, heavy sigh fell from his lips. He shifted his gaze from you to Ominis and smiled ruefully. “Honestly… aren't you doing too much?”

Ominis frowned. “What—”

“I killed my own uncle, remember?” Sebastian whispered. “My own sister left me for it but everyone else came to me, expressing their condolences. Professor Weasley, Garreth, Poppy, and Natty… the folks back in Feldcroft…”

The boy's freckled face contorted in pain, as if everything was too big and too paradoxical for him to comprehend. A concept too bizarre for him to grasp. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no voice came out as he didn't know what to say to properly put his feelings into words. Not when he himself was unable to understand and compartmentalize what he felt.

“You asked me what's bothering me, but I don't even know what I'm feeling most days. My head's a mess. My thoughts are like tangled threads in my head and I don't know how to sort them out.”

The sight pained you, urging you to gingerly reach out to him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“We'll do it one by one,” you said. “Tell us everything, Sebastian, even if they made no sense. Even if they're a mess. We can take it.”

Sebastian drew in a sharp breath and buried his head in his hands.

“I thought about Solomon,” he finally said and the words sounded like they were being punched out of his chest. Ragged and pained. “I keep remembering how he— how I…” the boy paused. Drew in a breath. “How Anne buried him all by herself. No memorial. And I… I wish he could have one. A proper funeral where people could bid farewell. He was… he was the one who took care of us all this time.”

He barked out a sardonic laugh, eyes wild as he stared at the starry sky. You opened your mouth to speak, but shook his head, squeezing your hand from behind Sebastian's back. Not yet. Not now.

“But at the same time, isn't it strange? I… I hated that man. Always so angry, so full of rage. The smallest thing would set him off. Always sneering at me and telling me I'm too much like my father. Hah, he didn't even lift a finger to protect Feldcroft from the goblins even though he could. He gave up so quickly on Anne, always shooting down my attempts to cure her… at least I tried. I tried as hard as I could!” Sebastian gritted his teeth, his words dripping with venom. “I used to look forward to the day I left that dreadful house. I'd be free of him. But it turned out he still haunted me even after— everyone remembering him as some hero, some… some father figure… I know I deserved it but I… oh…”

Sebastian blinked, his fingers trembling as they touched the wetness in his cheeks. He didn't realize he had begun to cry. The boy shivered.

“Sebastian…”

But the boy frowned, gritted his teeth, and wiped his tears away.

“And Anne,” he said with a trembling voice, eyes red with unshed tears. “She was the only one I had left. I only wanted to see her happy. I'd do anything for my sister, you know I would— what I did is inexcusable, I know… but I was the only one who never gave up on her. I was the only one who kept trying… Yet still, she… she left. Wouldn't speak, wouldn't even look me in the eye. She abandoned me…”

As his rage and grief halted into silence, you and Ominis continued to wait, the only sound you could hear was Sebastian's heavy, ragged breathing. Even at this moment, he was still holding himself back.

“You're probably thinking I'm irredeemable, aren't you?” Sebastian finally asked, his voice devoid of any feelings.

You let out a heavy sigh. “No, Sebastian, you're not irredeemable,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “We wouldn't have prevented you from going into that place if you were.”

“...Maybe you should've,” he said. “Be honest with me, you can't seriously think I deserve… all this, can you? This normalcy, this… fresh start.”

“Condemn you to a life in Azkaban? Where the dementors suck all the happiness in you until you become nothing but an empty shell? Robbing you of any second chance to live and learn?” you hissed. “We could never do that to you.”

“Why couldn't you? You had every reason to,” Sebastian asked again, this time with a shakiness in his voice.

“Because we care about you!” Ominis said sharply. “Sebastian, you're allowed to feel both sadness and bitterness towards Solomon and Anne, especially your uncle. Those feelings are not easy to bear, I know, trust me, I know how bad it is. I've been feeling the same way about my family for years, although the magnitude and situation may not be as similar to yours, but I understand how painful they are.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but Ominis cut him off.

“No, listen to me for once. You can feel all of those feelings and even more all at once. Merlin knows how cruel life has been to you… But as to whether you're irredeemable or not, it depends on what you're planning to do now, does it not?”

“But I don't deserve it. Those genuine condolences, the help from Weasley and Feldcroft, this friendship—”

“If you think you're undeserving then put in the work until you deserve it!” Ominis replied. “Redeem yourself. Get better. Learn from your mistakes and don’t repeat them ever again!”

An abrupt silence fell around you, almost as if the night swallowed your voices. You watched your friends with wide eyes, almost intimidated by the heated exchange.

“Sebastian,” you tried to speak. “Remember our first day here? We strolled around the city center the entire day and you told me you're trying hard to be better. You've taken the first steps, Seb, I… I know I may not be able to understand how you feel, but I do know how easy it is to get lost in the pain, how sometimes it feels impossible to get out. But you have been trying. I told you I can see your efforts, right? Don't forget that…”

Another silence. Sebastian rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and took a long, deep breath. “Right,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Both of you are right. I’m sorry, I…” he tried to finish his sentence, to say something meaningful, yet unable to find the right words. Eventually, he only let out a sigh and shook his head.

Neither you nor Ominis took offense to it. You reached out your hand and gingerly placed it on Sebastian’s back, fingertips just barely grazing the fabric of his shirt, but you knew he could feel them. To your surprise, Ominis mimicked your action, offering his unspoken support.

Another unexpected tear rolled down Sebastian’s reddened cheek. He shut his eyes and buried his face in his hands again, but he didn’t shy away from his friends’ touch. He welcomed them.

The three of you sat like that for a while, finding a sliver of peace and refuge amidst the quietness of the night.

tagging: @whoslestrange, @spacecadet16

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #karinawrites #this update is so overdue im sorry #life happened and im swept under the currents augh

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