Hey can I ask you a request?
Basically, I love Anne Sallow x Ominis a lot and I wanted to ask you about the reactions of the various characters who discover the feelings that each other has and maybe get together 💚💗💚💗💚💗
Ps. English is not my language
A/N: I think I understand what you're asking for, but for simplicity's sake, I'm going to give them feelings for MC
HLC REACT TO REALIZING THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON MC
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: The realization hits him like a train. After everything he had dealt with during fifth year, who was still standing with him? Who put up with his shit? Who risked everything for his sister despite barely knowing her? MC. They had become his closest friend, even closer than Ominis, but only now is he seeing them in a different light. The next time their eyes meet, they know.
OMINIS GAUNT: MC had been his peace in the chaos. The rock he could cling to in the storm. He had found comfort in them, but on realizing how deep his feelings were going, he was scared. Surely these feelings would scare them away. He had to be careful going forward.
ANNE SALLOW: She never thought she was the type of girl to fall for a knight in shining armor, but MC literally saved her life. The way they treated her, the way they bent over backwards for her, there had to be more to their feelings than they said. She didn't fall first, but she fell harder.
IMELDA REYES: Panic. No. Nonononono! They are not part of her plan! She is going to graduate school and play professional quidditch with the Holyhead Harpies. She doesn't have time or patience to deal with a relationship. She bottles up her feelings as quickly as she catches them.
NATSAI ONAI: MC has made her feel soft and warm inside since the first day in charms class. Their smile alone could make her feel like kicking her feet like an excited school girl. She doesn't jump to any conclusions, but she does try to ease the idea of a relationship beyond friendship between her and MC as they get to know each other. An innocent butterbeer date wouldn't hurt, would it?
GARRETH WEASLEY: He's kind of oblivious. He knows he likes being around them and he likes getting them involved with his schemes, but he doesn't seem to realize how close he likes to stand next to them in potions class. Or how he takes a little too much joy into making them laugh. MC will probably have to make the first move to make him realize it, then he's just dumbfounded.
LEANDER PREWETT: If MC found him charmingly awkward before, it increases when he realizes he has a crush. He tries a bit too hard to get their attention by opening doors for them and constantly asks where they're going after class. A lot of the times he ends up tripping over something or dropping whatever he's holding. He doesn't mind so much that they're laughing, but he's afraid they'll never take him seriously.
AMIT THAKKAR: He fusses more about how well they're doing in class and if there's anything he can do to help. He figures that maybe he could spend more time with them if they agree to let him tutor them. Especially in astrology. Having MC all to himself in the evening under the stars and a telescope? He can't think of anything better. He has to be careful with his daydreaming, he'll mess up his notes.
EVERETT CLOPTON: He's...not okay. He hates himself for catching feelings. There's no way in any realm of reality that MC would want him. He doesn't even have to go out of his way to avoid MC, they just aren't around him much after flying class. He doesn't think they've ever even gone out of their way to talk to him (Unless they're Ravenclaw). He'll admire from a distance and wait it out.
POPPY SWEETING: She really wishes her face wouldn't be so red around MC. We're going to start asking if she's not feeling well. She tries to play coy, but she's so obvious that it hurts. MC would have to be as thick as a rock to miss the signs. She constantly wants to be around them, always grabs their hand when she wants to show them something, practically stares while they're interacting with beasts, etc. Just don't point it out, she'll get embarrassed.
✨BONUS CHARACTERS✨
ANDREW LARSON: He feels lighter than air when MC enters a room. He knows he's done for. He knows he doesn't stand a chance. He knows they don't even know they exist, but he indulges in their presence while he can. He's not even concerned with wiping the silly grin off his face, it's not like they'll look his way.
LENORA EVERLEIGH: Shy. So very shy. After MC helped her with the mirror puzzle, she got firsthand experience of how nice they could be. From that point onward, when they were around, she'd be too flustered to talk to them again first. She can barely handle being next to them in herbology. She really wishes Professor Garlick would stop asking if she has a fever.
NELLIE OGGSPIRE: She pursues MC like they're a mountain she's dying to climb. She makes her feelings known up front and plain. She'll shrug it off if she's rejected. She already doesn't have them, so what's the difference? If they accept, excellent! They can go on adventures together!
CRESSIDA BLUME: MC was so willing to help her before, perhaps they'll do it again? She intentionally botches up some of her charm work to give her an excuse to have MC's attention. She's put her diary on lockdown, however, the things she writes in there nowadays she doesn't want MC to ever read.
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Ulterior Motives
A quick fic in celebration of me finishing this semester, and with one of my fav Tecchou frames (i love my husband mwah)
Scenario: Passing class is literally impossible when your professor has a nice ass. So in order to pass, you show him your tits
[Reader is an adult here. also NSFW warning but like it's really not explicit.]
This course had been a nightmare - it was the second time you had taken this class, and your second attempt was just 'barely passing'. Straight C grades across each test and paper, it almost made you want to scream.
It was nearly impossible to pay attention to your lectures when your professor wore tight pants and button-up shirts, like a whore. He was like candy for your eyes, walking around the front of the room and pointing at the board with his authentic Kyu Gunto sword.
Jesus. What a nerd.
How were you supposed to take notes on the history of pan-Asianism when he didn't even know how geeky he was? And when his shirt couldn't even contain his shoulders?
It was so distracting.
Of course you were close to failing.
Why did you sit in the front again? It wasn't a full class, half of them had dropped out throughout the semester, you could have always sat in the back if you really wanted to.
Last semester had sealed your fate - you had failed so badly that he asked you to personally take the course again, discussing personal study groups and even asking 'Is everything alright?'
No, nothinh really was. But you can't go up and say 'Professor Suehiro, you're too distracting' when it's just his face.
Professor Suehiro was either ignorant or a masochist, forcing you to watch him stroll across the room and talk about the Russo-Japanese war with a warm voice; you prayed he didn't notice how much you shifted your legs.
But god.
Every time you made eye contact and saw the spark in his eyes at the passion for his subject - it made you so happy you had a few more months with him. It was hell trying to focus when he looked at you, but it was so exciting each time he did.
Fortunately, it was the last day you had with him. Which meant that the man who tortured you with his existence would be just another page in your life.
Unfortunately, it meant passing your final exam.
You were pretty sure you were going to pass. This time you had studied and really tried, which was better than you could say than last semester - you had stayed up the entire night and got...distracted. (Professor Suehiro had a public Instagram. Of course, you were obsessed)
But you had a card up your sleeve this time. If you failed, then you had a photo of your tits with your number on the back.
Parts of you were really hoping he would call - if you can't use your brain to get through college, surely you can use your body, right? Professor Suehiro was attractive, you would have slept with him anyway, grade or not.
It was pretty obvious what the implication was. You spent time trying to position the camera right, getting the right bra and lighting so you would look as fuckable as possible.
Hopefully he didn't notice that your apartments floors were from the 18th century and belonged in a horror film. It was hard to make the photo attractive when you had such a poor workspace.
But you needed every card you could pull to pass.
The smarter part of you was screaming at you - this was weird. It's really weird, actually.
So against that small intelligent part of your brain that was beaten to death by regurgitating the semester's course material on the exam, you snuck in a photo of your tits and number into the stapled-together papers, praying to god that at the very least, dealing with the consequences later.
-
"Oh. Hello Y/n."
Professor Suehiro smiled gently towards you, shuffling papers that you were sure was among the hundreds he had to grade. His hands were elegant as he moved them around - his veins were so beautiful you wanted to bite them.
"You emailed me about my exam? Is there an issue?"
The smarter part of your brain was winning now that you were released from your test anxiety - right after you had left the room, it had won and had stayed winning, making you wish you had never left that stupid photo.
"Not exactly. I did wish to congratulate you on passing this semester - the minimum you needed was a 30, and you scored a 52. That brings you to a 79 as your final grade, if you're alright with that."
His deep voice drawled out the numbers, having them languish on his tongue as he looked down on you.
It was hard to maintain eye contact, so you stared a little past him, observing how his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show the definition of muscle between his chest and collarbones.
"C's are A's for me. I'm happy enough."
"Are you sure? Student's ask me to round their grades usually, so I offer extra credit."
It was like a piece of your anxiety left - finally, this class was over. After you walk out of this room, you would quite possibly never think of the Meiji era again. Ever.
Or the sexiest man alive, which was frankly a little disappointing.
The brunette tilted his head like a puppy, his golden eyes calculating something as they grazed your form.
Today was one of the few outfits you had worn that wasn't revealing - you weren't even wearing a bra, instead opting for a large shirt and a jacket in order to avoid the discomfort.
Maybe he noticed? Fuck. You hope he noticed.
"What is it?"
Maybe it was a date. Or something better.
Was the photo actually paying off?
"I can text it to you if you'd like, you seem to prefer that."
You couldn't tell if he said this with sarcasm or not, but you nodded anyway. He smiled a little - maybe it was the right thing to say?
Casually, he pulled out the photo you left him, staring at the front for a long, hard moment. His face didn't tell you anything about what he was thinking, but you could feel your face warming up in a normal amount of shame, as his eyes turned to look back at you.
"Oh! Yea."
Silently, he turned the back of the photo around, typing in your phone number. His face cracked into a smile, his cheeks chasing his eyelashes as they pulled into little crescents.
"I don't think you meant to leave this."
Professor Suehiro wasn't well known for understanding social cues, but you could feel his knuckles graze against your chest, with only your thin T-shirt to protect you.
He was definitely far too close into your personal space.
His fingers tapped the photo against your chest, causing a furious red to spread across your face.
"Right. Um...you can keep it, if you want."
Why the fuck did you say that?
The older man just took the photo and stared at it for a moment again - it was so embarrassing, feeling like your chest was some sort of science exhibit.
His golden eyes moved back towards you again, after torturing you for the last few minutes.
"Thanks. Nice bra, by the way."
"I appreciate it, Professor Suehiro."
Was that a compliment or just a statement? His voice was hard to really know anything by, and his face currently didn't say much - he was just the same handsome guy who had been torturing you for half a year with your existence.
"Just call me Tecchou."
He leaned in closer, deciding that your personal space was his own as he fixed the collar of your shirt, tugging it around your neck and dragging his fingers across your skin.
What the fuck was that extra credit going to be?
This is very self indulgent but like *shrug emoji* anyway im gonna be a bit more active now I guess
Also edited cuz who is letting me post this while fucked up?
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Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦⬛
I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.
Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.
This man has had barely any positivity in his life.
"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut
Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.
Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.
Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!
Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!
"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!
This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?
I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.
While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰
"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut
She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀
Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-
Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.
When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."
I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹
"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut
Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨
There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.
Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.
She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.
Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!
She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.
While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪
My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.
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Domestic Bliss
Masterlist
AO3
Summary - This is an idea of what domestic life would be with Remus, of how he would be as a partner. Loving, gentle, protective, a bit possessive, and pretty much just perfect. It is after the war. Remus survived, you graduated, and it was not long before you two moved in together to a quaint little cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Remus resumed his teaching position at Hogwarts while you became a potioneer for the nearest apothecary of the village. Remus is absolutely smitten with you and loves the idea of starting a family together (952 words).
Warnings - age gap, fluff, domestic life, mention of past teacher/student relationship, implicit mention of sex, mention of potential pregnancy. Not proof-read. My grammar (english is my second language).
Notes - Sorry if I post this before requests, I just had this idea while working and I wanted to write it quickly! This could probably be a part 2 to Detention?
Remus and you had settled into a rhythm of domesticity in your cozy little cottage. For Remus, every day with you felt like a gift, a chance to cherish and adore the woman he was once forbidden to love. The normalcy of your days felt foreign yet not unwelcome; with Remus preparing for the upcoming term and you foraging for ingredients and restocking your potions store. Your lives had intertwined beautifully.
Since moving in together, Remus had found a peace he never knew existed. The war had left scars, but here, in the quiet comfort of your cottage, he found healing. He often caught himself simply watching you, a sense of awe never far from his thoughts. Whether you were engrossed in a book or meticulously brewing potions, there was a grace and concentration in your movements that captivated him. He found endless joy in the little things - the way your brow furrowed in concentration or the serene look you wore when lost in thought.
His affection was evident in every interaction. He couldn't resist stealing kisses at random moments, delighting in the sound of your giggles, a sound that warmed his heart every time. He'd lift you off your feet in a spontaneous embrace, earning a playful scold and a laugh from you.
"I can't believe how lucky I am," he would often murmur after kissing you, his gentle eyes reflecting the depth of his love.
In the evenings, he would brush your hair, the strokes gentle and rhythmic. "You have the most beautiful hair," he would say, a contented smile on his face.
He often picked out your outfits, a way for him to make sure you were taken care of. "You need to be warm enough," he'd insist gently, helping you into a sweater. "We can't have you be cold, not on my watch."
His protective nature became more pronounced when you were out in public. A trip to the village for supplies was enough for him to break his barriers. As you walked through the bustling streets, he kept close to you, his hand often finding yours or resting on your back. When he noticed other men glancing at you, a frown would momentarily mar his features, his hand would tighten around yours, a silent growl of displeasure rumbling within him. He knew it was irrational - you were stunning, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it was only natural for others to notice - but he couldn't help the flare of possessiveness that surged through him.
"Remus, you're frowning again," you would tease lightly, noticing his expression.
"I can't help it," he'd respond, a slight edge to his voice. "I don't like them looking at you like that."
You would smile, a reassuring and affectionate look in your eyes. "I only have eyes for you, you know that, Professor."
Your nights, once a shy dance of quiet intimacy, began to echo with passion and longing. The concept of starting a family had gradually woven its way into the tapestry of your life together. The thought of you carrying his child stirred a deep, primal emotion in Remus, a mix of awe and an intense, protective love.
He was always mindful of your comfort and well-being, often finding himself torn between a desire to be gentle and the overwhelming need to fully possess, to fully express the depth of his feelings for you. In those moments, when he let the intensity of his emotions take over, your trust in him was absolute and implicit. You reveled in the way he took you, claimed you, made you his and his alone. Afterwards, he would hold you close, his touches soft and loving, as if to reassure both you and himself of the sanctity of your bond.
"Are you okay?" he would ask softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
You would smile, nodding, "I'm more than okay. I'm with you."
And then, your conversations would often drift to the future, to dreams of a child you might share. Remus would lay beside you, his hand resting gently on your stomach, a sense of wonder in his voice. "Can you imagine? A little one of ours running around."
Your response was always a blend of excitement and contemplation. For Remus, these conversations were bittersweet. His own fears and doubts about being a father, given his condition, lingered in the back of his mind. Yet, your presence, your support, and your shared love always managed to quell these fears.
"Whatever happens," he would promise, holding you close, "we'll face it together. You, me, and...maybe a little one."
In the morning, he would stand by the window, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, watching the sunrise paint the sky shades of orange and pink. He would turn his gaze towards you, who was still asleep, your hair cascading over the pillow. His heart skipped a beat, remembering how he'd fallen for you when you were still his student. The forbidden nature of his feelings back then had caused him many restless nights. Now, as he watched you sleep, the absence of guilt felt surreal.
He quietly approached the bed, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. You stirred slightly, your lips curving into a soft smile as you sensed his presence. "Morning," you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.
"Morning, love," he replied, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. "I've made some tea."
The smell of fresh bread and tea would fill the cottage as he prepared breakfast for you, and in these times, it really felt like pure domestic bliss.
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