Summary: In a desperate attempt to drown out vivid memories of a connection he cannot have, Sebastian uses a public display of affection as a "mute button" for his own conscience. However, a sharp intervention by Professor Sharp and the realization that his charade is hollow lead to a cold, abrupt ending that leaves him with a bitter clarity and a vindictive new enemy in Slytherin House.
Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Grace Pinch-Smedley, Professor Sharp, Ominis Gaunt.
Word Count: ~880 words
Masterlist
The rhythmic, heavy thrum-thrum of the Great Clock echoed through the courtyard, a mechanical heartbeat that seemed to mock the frantic pace of Sebastian’s mind.
He sat on the stone bench, Grace draped across his side, her voice a relentless, rapid-fire stream of chatter that usually acted like a thick fog over his mind. Ordinarily, her dissection of the "appalling" lack of decorum among the Hufflepuffs would have been enough to drown out every internal whisper, leaving him in a state of blessed, shallow silence where he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat, let alone his thoughts. But today, the wall of sound wasn't thick enough; her words were becoming nothing but blurred static, and through the noise, his own mind was screaming to be heard.
An image flashed unbidden into his mind: the memory of that half-light in the Room of Requirement. He could still feel the impossible softness of her hair as he’d tucked a stray lock behind her ear, the way his fingers had brushed against the slight, feverish pink of her cheeks. He remembered her half-lidded hazel eyes, dark and searching, and the specific, inviting shade of her lips as they’ve hovered just inches from his own. In the silence of that memory, he was back there—so close he could feel the radiating warmth of her body and the soft, hitching rhythm of her breath against his skin.
The thought made his stomach twist with a familiar, acidic frustration. He needed it to stop. He needed to be numb again.
He didn't wait for Grace to finish her sentence. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him with a suddenness that made her gasp. He silenced his thoughts with a kiss that was as intense as it was empty.
It was his favorite trick—his "mute button." For the first few moments, it worked perfectly. The physical friction of their lips and the heat of her skin acted like static, successfully muting the relentless noise of his own conscience and drowning out the world outside the stone archway.
But as the seconds ticked by, the static began to crack.
Behind his closed eyelids, the image of the Undercroft from last year erupted with a jarring, vivid clarity. He was back in that damp, torch-lit silence. He remembered telling her about the 'scandalous' pick-up lines he’d found in Rookwood's memories. He could still see her genuine, joyful laugh as she challenged him to prove it—he remembered the ghost of her hitched breath against his ear as he’d whispered. He remembered the smug triumph in his chest when he saw her flustered and crimson-faced, utterly undone by his proximity. The "numbness" was thinning, and reality was clawing its way back into his consciousness.
Sebastian felt a surge of panic. He couldn't let the silence break. He grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap with a frantic strength, trying to force the sensory overload to consume him entirely. He kissed her harder, deeper, chasing the high-voltage rush of adrenaline that usually acted like a Draught of Living Death for his conscience. He was fighting a war against his own memory, using Grace as his only weapon.
Grace made a small, muffled sound of surprise, her hands clutching at his robes as she tried to match his sudden, violent intensity.
But the harder he tried to lose himself, the more he found himself. The passion was a hollow shell. Through the heat and the friction, the cold realization finally pierced through: he wasn't feeling a thing. The adrenaline was gone, replaced by the bitter taste of copper and the jarring awareness that he was holding a stranger while thinking of someone else.
The 'mute button' didn't just break; it was shattered as Professor Sharp’s cane tapped softly against Sebastian’s leg.
"Mr. Sallow. Miss Pinch-Smedley."
The voice was as sharp and cold as a winter frost. Grace jumped off his lap and sat next to Sebastian, her face instantly turning a bright, humiliated scarlet as she smoothed her robes with trembling hands. The Potions Master looked entirely unimpressed, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze lingering on Sebastian’s disheveled robes with a look of clinical boredom.
"I was under the impression that the courtyard was intended for fresh air and reflection, not for... whatever biological display this is," Sharp noted. He didn't look scandalized; he looked like he was assessing a failed potion. "Ten points from Slytherin. Each. And I suggest you find a more private place—or perhaps more academic—use of your time before I decide to make it twenty. Move along."
Sharp didn't wait for an apology. He turned on his heel, the steady clack-clack of his cane fading into the distance as he disappeared toward the Great Hall.
The silence that followed was heavy and absolute. The adrenaline was completely gone, leaving Sebastian feeling exposed and profoundly exhausted. He looked at Grace, but he didn't really see her as a girl anymore; he saw her as a symptom of his own desperation. Slowly, he reached up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture of instinctive, cold disgust—not necessarily for her, but for the charade he had been forcing. He stood up without saying a word, his movements jerky and stiff, looking down at her with a flat, hollow disappointment that made the air between them turn to ice.
"Sebastian? What is it? We were—"
"I'm done, Grace," he said, his voice flat and devoid of the charm he’d been faking for days. The silence of the courtyard was suddenly schooling.
Grace straightened up, her expression shifting from confusion to a dawning, sharp-edged realization. "Done? You mean you're tired? We can go back to the common room if—"
"No," Sebastian interrupted, smoothing his robes. He didn't look at her. "I mean we are done. This... whatever this is. It’s over."
The silence that followed was heavier than the ticking clock. Grace’s face contorted, her prettiness vanishing behind a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. She stood up, her hands trembling at her sides.
"Over?" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "You’ve been leading me on for days! You kissed me like you were starving, and now you’re just done? You think you can just discard me like a broken quill?"
'Yes,' he thought, but he stayed silent.
"You're a monster, Sebastian Sallow!" Grace spat, stepping into his space. "Everyone says you're troubled, but you're just cruel."
Sebastian flinched at the word "cruel," but he kept his face a mask of indifference. He watched as she gathered her things, her eyes wet with angry tears.
She turned and marched away, the heels of her shoes clicking sharply against the stone. Sebastian watched her go, feeling a strange mixture of relief and a lingering, cold dread. Grace Pinch-Smedley was shallow, but she was also vindictive.
Half an hour later, Sebastian walked into the Great Hall for lunch. He spotted Ominis already seated at the Slytherin table, a space cleared around him as usual. Sebastian slid into the seat opposite his friend, grabbing a green apple and buffing it against his sleeve.
Ominis didn't even look up from his plate. "The air around you has regained its usual scent of bitterness," Ominis noted, his voice dripping with sass. "I take it the floral perfume has been... permanently removed from the equation?"
Sebastian bit into the apple, the crunch loud in the quiet space. "It’s over, Ominis. I got bored."
"Bored?" Ominis echoed, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "How shocking. And here I thought the two of you were destined for a lifetime of discussing the Malfoys' tea service. I assume the breakup was as graceful as her name implies?"
"She screamed. She called me a monster. The usual," Sebastian muttered.
Ominis chuckled, leaning back. "Well, at least you’ve stopped the charade. I was beginning to think I’d have to start listening to her myself just to find out where you’d disappeared to. Though, I must say, Sebastian... the 'numbness' you were chasing seems to have left you more exhausted than ever. Was the distraction worth the price of a very angry, very loud enemy in our own house?"
'No,' Sebastian thought, staring toward the Gryffindor table where a certain crimson scarf was visible among the red and gold. 'It didn't work at all.'
"I'll manage," Sebastian said aloud.
"I’m sure you will," Ominis replied, his tone turning serious for a split second. "Just try not to pick up another 'shield' before the first one’s finished throwing hexes at your back."
A/N: Sorry It took me so long. I was busy, then It was hard to write, so it may be a little rushed. Sorry about that... Anyway enjoy.
Summery: Virgil comes clean (I suck at summaries too..)
Warnings: self deprecating thoughts, food mention, Bad writing, me trying to write a disability, (let me know if I missed anything)
Pairings: no romantic relationships
Words: 1474
Tags: @kittiebrick
Chapter 1 - you are here
A few minutes had past since Virgil's interaction with Patton. Virgil was currently sitting in a ball on the couch. He didn’t have anything to do; not like he could do anything anyway. He didn’t think he could manage anything with how anxious he was at the moment. Normally he would find a drink to sip, as the action usually helped calm him, but Virgil, being a stupid idiot, left his coffee in the kitchen. He had been so scared that he just ran out of the room, leaving his drink behind. He could really use the drinks help calming his nerves right now. Well maybe not, because coffee could make it worse, but still!
Thankfully he didn’t have to spiral much further as Logan had come down for breakfast. Logan always woke up around the same time as Patton every morning, but he seemed to have deemed it important to get some work done before breakfast. He was almost as bad as Roman when it came to his work, but at least Logan still made an effort to stay healthy when he was working.
“Morning, Virgil,” Logan greeted, “It is highly unusual to see you down this early.”
Virgil just shrugged and looked away. Logan didn’t seem to mind Virgil’s half hearted response. He just continued into the kitchen without a word. To an outsider this might have been chalked up as highly rude of Logan. Can he not see that something was off? But Virgil know better. Logan couldn’t see that something was off. Logan is very oblivious when it comes to socal situations. That was one of the only things about Logan that Virgil could kind of relate to. Logan couldn’t help it and Virgil knew that Logan always felt terrible after he found out. Virgil knew all of this but that doesn’t mean that it still didn’t sting at times.
A few minutes later, Roman decided to come down for breakfast. Roman was not a morning person. He was always tired in the mornings. Probably because he always stayed up late coming up with ideas or out adventuring. The adventuring was probably the worst option. Roman left for days on end and occasionally(read “all the time”) came back injured. Roman, luckily, wasn’t on one of his dangerous adventures, and had come down for breakfast
Roman was still wearing his red two-piece PJ’s that Patton had gotten him for Christmas last year. Roman’s hair was a poofy mess as he was too tired to get ready. It was common nowadays to see Roman like this in the mornings.
Roman gave a half-awake wave as he continued in the kitchen. The wave snapped Virgil back to reality and he realized that he had been staring. Thank goodness Roman was still half-asleep and catch him staring. That would have been too much for Virgil’s already anxious brain to handle right now.
Patton came out of the kitchen a moment later. He approached Virgil carefully and placed a hand on his shoulder. He had moved slowly in case Virgil rejected the contact, but Virgil didn’t move.
“Would you like some breakfast, Virgil?” Patton asked.
Virgil slowly nodded. Patton let go of Virgil and led him into the kitchen. Patton had made A LOT of pancakes. He had put at least four on everyone’s plate and there still was a huge stack at the center of the table. Patton sat down in his usual set and Virgil followed suit.
Overall breakfast went by smoothly. The pancakes were delicious, like always, and everyone was chatting merrily. Virgil tried to enjoy it, but he kept thinking about what would happen after breakfast. Patton would probably tell the others and then they would all laugh or maybe just rage because he had kept this from them. Vigil tried to distract himself with the pancakes, but it was hard to forget when Roman kept trying to talk to him. Bless Patton; He always immediately changed the subject when ever someone tried to talk to him. Virgil was grateful for that.
Before long breakfast was over. Patton got up to clean the dishes and Roman just up and sprinted to his room. He had said something about an idea earlier but Virgil wasn’t really listening. Virgil was glad that Roman left. It was one less person to worry about.
Logan moved to leave but Patton stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. Dang it. Virgil was hoping Logan would leave and maybe Virgil could just hid in his room, but nope!
“Hey, Lo?” Patton asked sweetly, “Can stay for a bit? We could use your help.”
Logan pinched his brows and tightened his lips into a thin line. He adjusted his glasses with his index figure. “Sure, Pat. What seems to be the matter?”
Patton turned to Virgil with his caring eyes. “Do you want to tell him or shall I?” Virgil was planning on booking it, but no one could hurt Patton. Instead of running he simply pointed at Patton and stared at his shoes.
“Okay, Virgil.” Patton smiled sweetly at Virgil before returning to Logan, “Virgil can’t really speak.”
Logan looked confused. He turned and looked at Virgil with a questioning look. Virgil scrunched up and tried to hide in his hoodie.
“He tried to explain in ASL, but I only know a few words. I was hoping you could help” Patton asked with a small smile.
Logan finally broke his gaze to look at Patton. He adjusted his glasses again before responding. “Yes, you were right to come to me,” Logan responded, “I do indeed know ASL.”
“Perfect,” Patton beamed. Virgil thought he seemed a little TOO happy about that fact. Before Virgil could think too much on the matter, Logan turned to him.
“Would you mind explaining, Virgil?” Logan’s eyes were hard and calculating, but Virgil could see the softness in his eyes. He just needed to breath. It is okay. He signed himself up for this and can’t back out now.
After taking a moment to breath, Virgil slowly brought up his hands to sign. ‘It’s okay. Really. This just happens from time to time.’
Logan slowly nodded in thought. Virgil shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact that Logan understood, after all he literally just said he know ASL, but nonetheless he was still shocked. He guessed he had assumed Logan would have a different reaction.
“Hmm… So this has happened before?”-Virgil nodded- “How often?”
Virgil hang his head in response to the question. How often did this happen? Virgil never really kept track of this stuff. Actually looking back it happened fairly often; Even if it was for a few minute at a time.
‘Often,’ Virgil signed, ‘Almost every other day. Most times it only lasts for a few minutes.’
Logan leaned back and pinched his brows. Virgil didn’t think he had ever seen the logical side looked this concerned before. Poor Patton must agree to, because he was currently sitting on the edge of his seat in anticipation. He probably had no idea what was going on and to Virgil this was a good thing.
“How long has this been happening?”
‘My whole life’ Virgil looked down in shame. This was it. The moment that they get mad at him for hiding this from them for so long.
When Patton saw the concerned look on Logan’s face, he finally broke from all of the anticipation.
“What did he say?” He asked. Virgil could hear the concern in his voice. It probably wouldn’t last long.
“My apologies, Patton,” Logan said as he turned to face Patton, “I forgot to translate. He basically said that this happens often, although usually not this bad, and that this has been happening his whole life.”
“Noooo! My poor baby!” Patton winned. He looked like his was seconds away from pouncing on Virgil. Virgil started to sign frantically. He did not need to be pounced on right now.
Patton gaze turned from pity to one of curiosity. He turned toward Logan with a questioning gaze.
“He said he is fine, Patton.” Logan intervened. Thank goodness for Logan. Not being able to speak really sucks.
“Well, okay. If you say so, Verge.” Patton’s voice was back to his cheery self, “Why don’t we watch a movie? We could all use a break.”
They all collapsed on the couch for the rest of the evening. No one was thinking about speaking (or the lack of). Virgil was content. They other weren't mad at him, they may not be happy, but they weren't mad and that was something. They watched the movie in blissful silence. When that movie ended they put in another, then another. They continued like this until dinner came and Roman came down stairs.
what are fasist’s opinions on Hit Isekai Anime: Sword Art: Online
I think Fasist loves Sword Art Online and watches it constantly. He kins Sinon but pretends to kin Kayaba. He doesn't see why SAO is hated so much and has nothing against Kirito's harem.
I have been watching Vintage TV for about 2 hours, no regrets. Although sadly Texas is on. But Gary Numan was on, although it wasn't a good song. I don't care I'm still hopeful.
