#added scars to his mc skin | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thefaithfulnightwriter · 8 days ago

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 ~ Chapter One

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 a female who has been through so much in the clutches of Amarantha. Finds herself being freed she finds herself changed. She's more powerful and was now very unique in her own way. Starting a new life she finds it's hard and feels somewhat lost. But it all changes for her when she finds she has a mate. She soon suddenly feels less lost and finds a home in his arms.

☆or☆

𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel finds himself lonely. He was lonelier than ever, even in a room filled with his found family. He couldn't seem to rid himself of such feelings. It was a feeling that was threatening to swallow him whole. That is until he meets her, his mate. Azriel soon finds himself feeling less lonely and happier than he's ever been. And it was all because of her.

Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc

Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Warnings - Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Mention of Past Abuse, Mentions of War, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Looking out of the window that was beside her was what she was doing at the moment. Her gaze on the flowers and nature outside. Taking in the sight before her. The view never grew old to her. She could sit and look at the view for hours, maybe even days and get lost in her own little world. But she knew it wasn’t possible for her. She couldn’t do such a thing.

But she always took what time she had and made sure she took in the view and cherished it. It was moments like this when she would do such a thing. Looking outside her home at every little thing she could. The way the beautiful flowers drifted slightly as the wind blew. Taking in the trees and watching as the leaves rustled in the wind and so much more. It led her to smile at the sight. But her attention was soon taken away from the view outside by the voice of a female.

“Annamarie, are you going to the Rainbow with Irina today?”

She heard the familiar voice of a female ask softly. Who had walked into the dining room where she was currently sitting. Turning, Anna saw the female. She had a welcoming smile upon her lips as she tilted her head in question. Her name was Amara. She was a beautiful female high fae. Who she was close with she was like a sister to Anna. Amara being very kind and caring toward anyone. She was quick to take Anna in when she had come into her life.

Hearing her question Anna sent her a smile. She then nodded before looking down at her hands that were on the table fiddling with her cup. She soon looked back up at the female when she heard the shuffling of feet. She soon found Amara now smiling gently at her and was sitting in front of her on the other side of the table.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours that’s got you looking out the window in such a way?” Amara questioned gently with a smile. As she rested her chin on her hands. Looking at Anna with kindness. She had her gaze on the unique female.

Taking in the soft spoken female that she thought of as a close friend. She thought Anna was gorgeous, but Anna had trouble seeing herself in such a way. So Amara made a point to compliment her on more than one occasion along with the rest of their little family.

She smiled seeing Anna so open at the moment. Without a care. With her long dark curly mane that fell over her shoulders and down her back. Her light brown skin that was glowing in the light that came from outside. Then there was her soft but curvy frame along with her being slightly shorter than most fae. Her black long sleeved dress that hugged all of her curves then flowed to the floor. She then saw her medium length curved nails that fiddled with her cup.

Then there were the unique things or attributes about her that she had been put upon her forcefully from her rough journey over the many years. That Anna wasn’t very fond of. But was still coming to terms with and accepting.

There were her ears that were longer and pointed that flapped slightly if she moved her head too quickly. She unfortunately had a cut on the outside of one of her ears. A triangle-like shape of skin missing. They were very sensitive to touch and sound. Which led her to keep them covered most of the time with a scarf or cloth wrapped around her head or her long hair covering them. But they still seemed to peek out no matter what she did.

Then there were her unique eyes. One was a very dark brown resembling a beautiful onyx gem. It was her natural eye color, the color she was born with. The color both her eyes used to be. Then there was the other that was a silver color. It shimmered and glistened with her magic. The color she had been forcefully given. They were unique and different but caused her to become overwhelmed at times. Sometimes having blurry vision or having vision that was clear as day. Well to clear at times and so bright. Leading her to have to wear glasses with silvered wired frames. That had magic infused within them to help moderate her vision. That she often pushed up onto the bridge of her button nose.

There were also the scars that littered Anna’s body. She had a few that littered her face. There were small ones. But then there were two that stood out. One on her soft cheek that was a large and thick line that was from her ear to the corner of her lip. Then one that started from the top of her brow then over her silver eye and ended just above her other chubby cheek. Those were the noticeable ones. There were others that littered her arms and back that no one has seen. Well no one who wasn’t her family. But Anna still tries to keep hidden from others.

But Amara with their family still thought she was truly beautiful. And they made sure to make it known as often as they could. Though Anna thought differently. She always had trouble accepting the way she looked even before what had happened to her. Having insecurities about the way she looked. It had gotten worse at one point after everything that happened to her with her new attributes. But she seemed to be getting better as time passed and with the help of her little found family.

“N - Nothing much Mara. Just taking i - in the view outside is all,” she smiled at Amara. After she gestured to the view outside. She couldn’t help but get lost in the view again. It was just so beautiful she couldn’t get enough of the nature around them. It led her to smile with excitement just thinking of going outside to feel the energy and wind on her skin. She wanted nothing more but to step outside without shoes and socks on to feel the ground beneath her feet. So she could connect with the environment around her. She was about to speak about her excitement but was cut off by Amara speaking.

“Hmmm it is gorgeous isn’t it… just like you sweetheart,” Amara giggled with a grin. Hearing her caused Anna to stop for a moment taking in what she said. Before looking down bashfully. Shaking her head a light blush of pink traveled over her cheeks. Pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose she sighed sending Amara a playful glare. Causing Amara to giggle with a wide smile, “what I’m just speaking the truth Anna! You are so pretty! Isn’t that right Killian?”

“Very true my love. She is so pretty my heart flutters everytime I see her. Just as it does when I see your gorgeous face,” Killian chimed in. Him having walked into the dining room just a moment ago. Having heard what Amara had said.

Killian having entered the room with a wide smile. As he reached to place a kiss on top of Anna’s head and then kissed Amara’s lips gently. Making a loud kissing noise as he did so. Causing the two females to giggle and chuckle. Both watched as he took a seat by his mate Amara draping an arm lazily around her shoulder. Leading the female to lean into his side. Looking at Killian, Anna rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help but smile at the male. Killian always knew how to make Anna smile and laugh. It led her to sit and remember.

Both having been by each other's sides for a long time now, for about fifty years. The two having been through a lot over the past years by each other’s side. The two had met in a horrible place… Under the Mountain. During Amarantha’s ruling.

Killian having been kidnapped from his home Court, the Dawn Court. Him being a well known powerful healer. While Anna was sold off by her family so they could pay their debt to Amarantha.

They soon found themselves as cellmates. As they were picked to go through experiments. Being experimented on with magic and so much more. Both being poked, prodded, cut, and beaten at for many years. It was truly a dark and cruel time for them.

The only thing keeping them sane and keeping them from giving up during such a time were each other. They had grown a very close bond during that time. So close that they laughed about being platonic soulmates. They were there to hold each other. To encourage each other to keep going and not give up. To keep fighting no matter how much they wanted to just let the darkness consume them.

It was during this time that their choice was taken from them. They had so many things taken from them. They had powerful and unknown magic forced upon them that they didn’t want. It was why they look the way they do now.

Anna with her attributes like her eyes, ears, and scars. Then there was her magic. Having been put through many experiments to try and expand her magic and make her more powerful. So that Amarantha could bind Anna’s magic to her trying to make herself more powerful. Just as she did with the seven High Lords of Prythian. But Anna always kept her new growing magic hidden. No matter how hard it was she made sure no one knew of her new found chaotic magic. Well beside Killian he was the one to coach her teaching her ways to conceal and control her magic. Neither of them wanted anyone to know of Anna’s magic. Killian also wanted to keep Anna safe too.

Then there was Killian with his enhanced healing and ability to heal others. He was able to heal anyone with just a touch from pretty much anything if he put his mind to it. It took time but it was possible for him. His healing magic had grown. Then his ability to heal. He could heal from anything. Whether it be him being amputated the limb would grow back. Being stabbed he could pull out the knife and the wound would heal. Broken bone he could just reposition it correctly and it would heal. All good as new.

There were so many things he could heal from. Anna had witnessed everything and found it weird and gross but got used to it. But with such a power it came at a cost. It was an experiment that went wrong. It all stemmed from fire. The people experimenting on them wanted to test if he could heal from fire. It was before he was gifted with such healing. But ultimately gave him the ability to heal. His skin was scarred and burnt. There wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t burnt.

That day it led Anna to have to hold him as he cried in her arms non-stop. And Anna held him every minute, never letting go. But after some time with Anna’s encouraging words he got back up and came back even stronger. He still had his bad days, both of them did. But they kept going with each other's help.

It was when the end of Amarantha’s ruling came and she had died that they snuck out together from Under the Mountain. No one knowing of them, just rumors. Both were lucky that not many saw them. They made sure to stay in the dark and stayed hidden. They both felt lost at this point and didn’t know what to do. Until Anna argued with Killian to go to his wife, his mate. The one he spoke about so much. He put up a fight but agreed to go to her only if Anna promised to stay by his side. Which she agreed to hesitantly not wanting to intrude on his life. But he always stated they would be by each other’s side no matter what.

But it seemed their lives got better when Amara Killian’s mate and her sister Irina came into their lives. The two found themselves traveling to the Court of Dreams or Velaris in the Night Court. A beautiful city that had been opened to the public after being hidden for so long.

It was where Amara and Irina had traveled to and made a new home for themselves. But after a heartfelt reunion between Amara and Killian. Amara accepting him and smothering him with love. After the four of them soon became close. They were a family through and through. It led Anna to smile thinking of their little found family.

“Oh shut up Mara, Killy. My goodness I’m not that -,” Anna giggled with a shake of her head feeling her ears move slightly against her head. As she pushed her glasses up upon her nose. Killian was about to cut her off and was going to object. But Irina, his sister in law Amara’s sister, already beat him to it after walking into the room. Having heard part of the conversation.

“Anna don’t even finish that sentence. And I hate to cut this short and get right to it but all of you are beautiful, gorgeous even. But I have to steal Anna. That is if you still want to come with me to the Rainbow. I’m about to leave soon,” Irina chuckled. As she walked into the room still searching through her satchel for something.

“I’m going with you Rina. What are you looking for anyways?” Anna questioned as she got up from her seat. Reaching for her black scarf that had silver stars on it. She then began to wrap it around her head over her long ears. Trying her best to cover them up.

“I’m looking for a letter that was addressed to you. It was all fancy and what not oh here it is,” Irina exclaimed in victory before handing it to her. Anna was confused but shrugged it off thinking it was a new commission for an art piece. Taking the letter she saw it was indeed fancy. As she opened it she thanked Irina which she sent her a nod with a smile as a welcome. Before she started a conversation with Killian and Amara. But looking down at the letter she gasped after reading it. Catching the others' attention.

“What? What’s wrong Anna?” Killian asked her, he was quick to get up and move to stand by her side. She didn’t know how she felt. It was a bit overwhelming for her. So all she did was hand the letter to him. As she sighed, raising her glasses slightly and rubbing her face before placing them back on the bride of her nose. Watching him as he read over the letter. He was soon looking up at her with worry.

“You’re not going,” he declared.

“Wouldn’t that be suspicious if I didn’t go, Killian?” Anna sighed with a question. Not meeting his eyes. As she looked at the ground shuffling on her feet. She didn’t know what to think of the letter but she knew she was screwed either way.

“What does it say?” Amara asked moving to stand next to Killian to read the letter over his shoulder. Irina was quick to ask the same thing as she slowly placed a hand on Anna’s arm gently. To try and sooth her. Looking up Anna sent her a small smile that was filled with fear.

“The High Lord and Lady want to see her because of her artwork. And because of the charity work she has been doing,” Amara gasped as well after reading the letter. Looking at Killian and Anna then to her sister with wide eyes. Who reacted the same hearing what she said. This caused all of them to be filled with fear and worry for Anna. It was quiet for a moment between the four as they began to think of what to do until Irina spoke.

“Okay… I am sorry to say this but she’s going to have to go. There’s no way out of this. As Anna said it would be too suspicious on her part if she didn’t go. They know of her now. It would be even more suspicious if she avoided them. If they find out who she really is. There's too many people who know Anna and adore her in this city. So maybe that’ll ease their minds on her,” Irina put forth. She was about to continue to try and ease the tension but was cut off by Killian.

“No, I told you Anna. You shouldn’t have started doing all this shit. I said it would draw attention to you. But no you didn’t listen to me!” Killian bellowed as he ran his hands over his scared head. Hearing him yell caused Anna to flinch because he did warn her this would happen. But she just wanted to help. Which she whispered as she hugged herself, “I just want to help. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Help Anna! This is going to lead to us being found out by the fucking Night Court’s inner circle. Not just you but me too. Who knows what they’ll do to us!” Killian exclaimed. Sending a glare her way. Looking at her caused him to sigh because he instantly regretted yelling at her. She looked close to tears now in Amara and Irina’s arms. Both females sending him a glare back.

“You need to calm the hell down Killian. You act like she did this on purpose all she’s done was to help people. And she’s done that. She’s helped so many people in this city. So calm down and keep your anger in check. Before I smack the shit out of you. You of all people should know better than to yell at her,” Amara scolded. As she held Anna close, being taller than her. While Irina ran her hand gently over her back trying to also soothe her.

“I’m sorry Anna, I'm just scared. Because I know you’re going to have to go,” Killian sighed. Before he opened his arms inviting her into a hug. Moving her head she adjusted her glasses and looked at him. She sighed and moved to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist while he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“I - I don’t know what is going to happen… b - but I’ll make sure you guys stay safe. And you shouldn’t be scared because no matter what I’ll be there for you Killy,” she vowed. Tightening her hold around his waist to reassure him. A chuckle escaped his lips hearing what she said.

“No matter what I’ll be there for you too Anna. No matter what,” Killian declared with a smile after kissing the top of her head. He was worried but knew that whatever happened that they would get through it together.

Redamancy Taglist -

N/A

#azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar x oc #azriel x oc #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic

71 notes · View notes

irishmammonagenda · 8 months ago

Text

Boop!- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: You go on a mission to boop, as per usual chaos ensues. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Female Reader (implied), i dont really think there's anything else but if you can see something lmk and i'll add a warning

very obviously inspired by tumblr's boop event

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Hello Michael!" You greet, signature foxy grin on your face. Michael looks up from where he's playing Connect Four with a man in robes and waves at you.

"Hiya MC!" He puts the palms of his hands on the soft cloud ground and leans back on them, he's bare chested in the heat, though he's adorned himself with waist beads and arm bands, firm muscles on display. His long curly blond hair is in intricate braids, small ornaments threaded through it. He grins up at you, bright red eyes shining under the light of the Celestial sun. "What's brought ya up to the Celestial Realm today?"

"I am evil. I am very evil Michael." You say seriously.

The other man laughs, though not unkindly. His tanned skin shimmers ethereally under the light, dark brown eyes stare up at you, rich like soil after the morning due. Dark waves and soft curls frame his face, some soft stubble one his jawline, barely noticeable. "I'm sure you're not evil." He says kindly.

You stare at him, before smiling as well, touched. "Aww thanks! And you are?"

The man smiles, reaching his hand up, Michael takes that time to sneakily move one of the coins the man had put down a slot over. "I'm Jesus, it's nice to meet you MC."

You cough. "You're Jesus?"

"Yes." He nods, "A lot of people are shocked when they first meet me...something about expecting me to look like Da Vinci's gay lover."

You nod, dumbfounded.

Michael, sensing your inner turmoil, and also needing to keep Jesus' attention elsewhere so he could continue cheating- winning creatively in Connect 4, clears his throat, "So what's brought you to the Celestial Realm and made you claim that you're evil?"

This makes you grin, "Well, my dearest Michael....have you heard of boops?"

Michael straightens up a little bit, Jesus watches him intently, before fixing the board to its original state whilst the Archangel is distracted.

"No I have not...Why, what are they?" Michael asks, signature mischievous grin on his face. "They sound fun."

"Well I'm glad you asked Michael!" You grin, before leaning in and whispering into his ear. The added proximity made you realise he smelt of pine cone and fresh rain.

Michael giggles evilly, turning over to Jesus, before reaching a dark, jewel adorned hand and booping his nose. "Boop!"

Jesus just smiles, Crucifixion was worse. "It's your go, Michael."

"Oh of course! MC wait for this game to be over! I have...uh..business to attend to in the Devildom!"

You and Jesus share a look.

Michael looks over at you two, "You coming Jesus?"

The man smiles gently, "No thanks, I'm still traumatised from that one time when Satan tormented me in the desert."

"Oh okay...." Michael deflates the tiniest smidge before looking back at the board, spluttering. "Hey you moved the pieces!"

Jesus snorts, "Yeah, I moved the pieces back from where you tried to cheat."

"Lying's a sin." Michael huffs.

Jesus laughs, "Was that an admition of guilt?"

Michael falls onto his back dramatically, dark skin shining in the Celestial Realm's blessed light. "Ugh! Woe is me! This is worse than the time that one Irish kid got me confused with Michael Collins!"

Jesus pats his shoulder in pity. "Easter's a hard time for all of us."

Michael blinks at the scars on Jesus' palms from the nails and bites back a very bad Cross joke. "You could say that again."

After the game of Connect 4 ended, (Michael lost) you and the Archangel said your goodbyes to Jesus and began your journey down to the Devildom. Michael walks beside you, a good bit taller than you. Michael having swapped out his less than covering attire for a flowy white flare sleeved top that you'd imagine a pirate or a Victorian would wear, the lace buttons are undone for the most part, as per usual. You'd come to learn that the Archangel hated top buttons with a burning passion.

"I call Lucikins." Michael says with about as much seriousness as a 10 year old calling shotgun on the front seat of the car. So very serious.

"Fine. I call Mammon." You reply, looking up at him, as if daring him to try and boop your first man before you could. He pouts, but relents.

"I call Satan then." Michael blinks back at you with crimson eyes.

"No why?" You sulk.

Michael shrugs. "He's my nephew. I get to boop his nose it's the law."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is!"

"Prove it then." You huff.

Michael turns around and you hear fidgeting before he hands you a paper napkin with writing on it. You notice the fountain pen he sneakily snuck back into his trouser pocket and glare at him, before reading the napkin.

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shall let Michael boop his nephew's nose.

You hum, "Something's telling me this is fake."

Michael gasps incredulously, as if offended by the very notion, he places a hand over his breast, where his heart is. "How dareth thou! Truly, 'tis a crime against nature to speak such filth about the Holy Word. A crime against God I daresay!"

"Okayy...drama king."

Michael gasps again. "Alas! Thou speaketh such filth! Such blasphemy to thee! Thy words...such horrors! Cursed are thou amongst humankind!"

You deadpan. "I'm taking away your Shakespeare rights."

"Try it I dare you." Michael challenges, red eyes gleaming with something predatory. "You can boop Simeon."

You grin. "Yay!"

"I call Luke."

Your grin drops. "What the frickety flip that's my son."

Michael's brows furrow. "He's my son too what the flip."

You gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. "Did we?..."

Michael's eyes widen, he pulls his top up and counts his ribs, losing count several times because you keep adding random numbers in. He looks up at you.

"Did we have a child out of Wedlock?!"

You and Michael look at each other in object horror. Both conveniently ignoring the fact that Luke technically came into existence millennias before you.

"I think we did...." You place your hand over your brow like a Victorian woman seeing the ankles of her secret lesbian lover for the first time.

Michael follows suit.

"Michael....I fear we might be sinners...."

"Well you know what they say in the human world MC...." Michael sniffles, looking away from you dramatically. "Sinner sinner chicken dinner...."

You pause, breaking character. "Is it not Winner winner chicken dinner?"

Michael shrugs. "Not like I care."

You parrot his movement, shrugging your shoulders back as well, before the horror creeps back onto your expression. "But...Simeon and Barbatos also see Luke as their son...."

Michael looks at you wide eyed, grabbing you by the shoulders, "MC! We have to count their ribs!"

You put your head in your hands, "Two angels, a demon and a human with angel blood that's somehow an angel....our son is a hybrid!"

Michael gasps. "Hybrid princess?"

You do a double take. "Why do you know what gacha is." You breath out, looking at Michael in genuine fear.

"I wasn't a gacha kid don't worry! Levi was though! He'd show me his little Gacha stories that he made...." Michael looks nostalgic. "Such an adorable little weirdo....he gets it from Lucifer y'know."

"If I described Lucifer as an adorable little weirdo I think he'd skin me alive."

"That sounds like a you problem." Michael grins.

You and Michael continue your journey down to the Devildom, only this time he's giving you a piggy back ride because you annoyed him until he agreed. Strong hands hold your thighs to keep you from falling, as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

You had been 'calling' people to boop.

"I call Diavolo."

"Deal." Michael nods, trying and failing to twist his head around to face you because you're on his back and he's not an owl. "I don't want to accidentally start another Celestial War by booping the Prince and acting King of the Devildom's nose."

"That's surprisingly a good reason."

"Fuck you mean surprisingly?" Michael scoffs, though there's no real bite to it. "I'm always having good reasons."

"Yeah and I'm the spawn of Satan." You say sarcastically, human world side winning over for a second, until you remember that Satan is in fact a real person and that you are in fact now in the Devildom.

Michael laughs, "You know who Satan's the spawn of? Lucifer."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"What's he gonna do? Bully me while I'm in a desert? Jokes on him, I hate sand and don't go anywhere near it."

"I don't feel safe anymore, we're gonna get jumped."

Michael laughs.

"I call Levi, I need to return an anime to him anyway." Michael breaks the silence.

"You borrow animes from Levi?"

"Yeah sometimes, me and Saint Peter watch animes at the gates of Heaven when it's a slow day and not a lot of souls are being guided into it."

"Nah imagine dying and waking up in heaven to see the people at the gates watching anime."

Michael sticks out his tongue, though stops when he remembers you're on his back and can't see it.

"I call Barbatos."

Michael sighs in relief, carrying you through the streets of the Devildom. "Thank God, you can have him. Good luck with that."

"Go fuck yourself Michael. I call Thirteen."

Michael gasps excitedly. "Tell her I say hi!"

"Tell her yourself."

Michael huffs. "You're so mean to me MC."

You bite his neck, really embodying your inner feral street cat. He yelps. "Don't try to steal my wife, next time I'll bite your jugular pretty boy."

Michael laughs, "I am quite pretty..." He flips his hair, the intricate golden braids and curls hit you in the face, seeing as you're still on his back. You let out a sound similar to a feral street cat coughing up a hairball, he laughs again. "Also I'm pretty sure Thirteen is a lesbian."

You perk up. "Oh yay! You should be the priest at our wedding Michael. You don't have a choice."

"Fine." The archangel huffs, his plump lips pouty. "But only if Luke's the flower boy."

"I was gonna make him the ring boy giver person." You reply, playing with one of the ornaments braided into Michael's hair.

"Even better!"

Moments of comfortable silence last before you decide to break it because you're evil and have no moral code whatsoever.

"Michael you can have Solomon."

Said Archangel halts. Dropping you off of his back before turning to look at you, now strewn out on the ground. He puts his hand over his brow like a Victorian man who just saw the ankles of his gay lover. (Probably Solomon: You'd decided.)

"No! How couldeth thou?" He sighs dramatically before it just turns exhasperated. "Those rumours just died down...."

You jump up off of the ground, wiping the soil from your clothes, "They have?! Dammit!"

Michael deadpans at you, pulling at a golden coil of hair and letting it be stretched straight before letting go and watching it bounce back up into a curl again. "I hate you."

"That's harsh."

After having separated from Michael, you sneak into your First Man's room. He sits lazily, lounging on his bed and scrolling mindlessly through his DDD. So enraptured he doesn't even notice your presence just yet until you press your finger to his nose.

"Boop!"

"ARGHH-" he screeches, jumping atleast five feet in the air before realising it was you and scoffing. "Oh...It's you...o-of course ye'd wanna boop the Great Mammon's nose! That'll cost ya!" He huffs, trying to avoid the initial embarassment of you seeing him so uncool!

"Boop!" You boop him again, he grins stupidly like an idiot inlove, before snapping out of it and putting his 'too cool for this' persona back on.

"T-that'll cost ye! MC!" He stutters, trying to cover his blush.

"Oh will it now?" You raise a brow before bringing your lips to his nose and pecking it there, pulling away again in less than a second. "Boop."

He pulls you in for a hug before you can pull away completely. You grin, having reduced the Avatar of Greed to a blushy pile of mush in your arms.

Take that Alpha Male podcasters who think women want dominant mean men who suck and hate them. Everyone knows all women want a Mammon.

You and Michael meet back up again. Michael having a scratch on his leg.

"Satan did not like the fact that I booped him at first...until I gave him an emergency kitten that I put in a cage nearby like 5 minutes before." Michael says, noticing that you noticed the scratch. "He almost bit me! He's definitely Lucikin's son!"

You point and laugh at him. He pouts, before interlocking your arms. "Purgatory hall?"

"Purgatory hall." You nod.

Michael knocks on the door. Luke answers it before gasping like a child on christmas. "Michael! Hi!" He hugs the Archangel who laughs and picks him up.

The blond boy notices you at that point, he smiles brightly. "Oh MC! Hi!"

"Hiya Luke!" You smile at him, booping his nose. "Boop!"

"Michael follows suit. "Boop!"

Luke blinks before grumbling. "I'm not a child..." He then turns his head back towards Michael who's still holding him. "Boop!"

Michael laughs. "Do MC now!" With that he quickly moves closer to you, Luke still in his arms, and the young angel boops your nose too. You all grin, laughing. Luke just ecstatic that Michael was able to visit. And he brought you too!

You end up watching a movie together, all three of you. Simeon comes home halfway through it. Having had to visit a publishers. Michael hides behind the door and when Simeon opens it, the dark skinned angel pops out, booping the poor man. "Boop!"

Simeon blinks at him. Michael smirks lightheartedly "Get booped Loserboy."

Simeon smiles, his gaze turning toward you." MC would you lie any help with your Solomon x Michael fanfiction? I heard from Satan that you two were on hiatus."

Michael groans. "Traitors!"

You laugh. "Get fanficked Loserboy."

Michael grins, putting on faux dramatics. "You both suck I'm going back into Luke! At least he's actually cool."

After a lovely movie with Luke, Simeon and Michael, you run away to a cave because why not?

After entering Thirteen's very lovely abode, and avoiding all of the traps laid out for Solomon, you finally catch a glimpse of her vibrant ombre hair.

"Hiya Tee!" You grin, pouncing on her and pulling her into a hug. The reaper, who's clearly batshit insane doesn't even flinch, she just laughs, hugging you back even tighter.

"MC! To what do I owe the pleasure babes?"

You giggle michieviously before bringing your hand up and, "Boop!"

She grins wider, bloodied emerald eyes staring back at you so lovingly, hints of playful devilry in her expression.

"Oh let me try! Boop!" She says before pulling you in for a kiss that makes your knees feel weak.

When you both pull away to catch a breath, you breathe out breathlessly. "That was a super boop....an evil boop even..." You say, face burning red, you know she feels the red hotness of your cheeks.

She just laughs. Tilting her head, some strands of hair falling into her face. "You want another one?"

You've never nodded quicker in your life.

"How in Diavolo's name did you get in here?" Lucifer asks, looking up from the work on his desk. He quickly closes over the confidential files and paperwork, turning his head to Michael once more. Blood red eyes narrowed at their counterpart's.

Michael approaches the Demon at a speed that could rival Mammon's. In an instant he's beside the raven-haired man. "Awww Lucikins don´t worry about it! Boop!"

Lucifer swallows thickly, and flicks his gaze to Michael. Despite having the glare of a thousand suns on him, Michael continues grinning. "Did you...did you just boop my nose?..." The Avatar of Pride asks in a low voice.

"I'm not too sure if I did..." Michael puts his fingers to his chin in mock thought, before grinning, pointer finger in the air. "I'll have to do it again to make sure!" The Archangel exclaims before booping his younger brother on the nose. "Boop!"

Lucifer growls. "Michael-"

"Yes, Lucikins?"

"Michael I am going to kill you."

The elder only laughed, "Awww classic Lucikins! Still in his teenage angst phase!"

"I did not have a teenage angst phase." Lucifer glares, huffing embarassedly, turning away and picking up his quill in an attempt to turn away from this god awful conversation.

Michael gives him a knowing look. "Don't make me pull out the photos."

His head snaps back to his elder brother. "What photos?"

"The photos of you with the wolf cut, the ones with you and the eyeliner, the ones where you're all dressed up in your little emo costumes..." Michael wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh...you were so adorable! Always threatening to murder me...! Glad to see that my wittle baby brother hasn't changed!" The Archangel exclaims, pinching his younger brother's cheeks and making them squish up, Lucifer felt his face flush with embarrassment. Michael laughed, he looked like a chipmunk!

"...'m no' a 'ittle ba'y bro'er! you'r tw' minu'es ol'er than 'ee!" Lucifer tries to shout, but with Michael pushing his cheeks together, it comes out muffled and distorted.

"All I heard is that you said I'm the best big brother in the three realms and you love me very much!"

Lucifer glares at him. A glare that doesn't hold any weight seeing as Michael is still squishing his cheeks together and he still looks like a chipmunk.

With enough squirming and fighting, Lucifer finally manages to get out of his brother's grip, he rubs his cheeks, staring daggers at the angel. "I would never say that. I'm not your baby brother. I'm not Lucikins. You're two minutes older than me yet two centuries more immature." He says venomously.

Too bad Michael's poison proof.

The Archangel laughs, "You're not my baby brother? Huh? Who's bed did you climb in when you were scared of the thunder back in the Celestial Realm?"

Lucifer bristles, swallowing thickly, "That's irrelevant."

"Sureee." Michael grins, though it's softer around the edges, Lucifer feels it too.

Lightning flashes in the Celestial realm. Long before Mammon had even been born. Thunder roars, a small whimper sounds. Lucifer sits in his bed, covers over his head, gripping a pillow tightly. Barely even a cherub, he takes the slight break in the storm to gather the courage to waddle over to his twin's bed.

"Mikey?" Lucifer whispers in the darkness, gripping onto the poles of the bed with his tiny pale hands. "Mikey...you awake?" He says through gapped teeth, a slight lisp in his voice. The gap between his two front teeth would close with time.

The sheets rustle, a young Michael groans, also barely a cherub his voice is as high pitched and childlike as his brother's. "Luci...go to sleep..." The slightly older cherub says, eyes still closed.

"Can't Mikey...'s too loud.." Lucifer whispers, black hair sticking to his forehead in a slight sheen of sweat. As if to prove his point, thunder roars again, lightning flashes. Lucifer whimpers, gripping the pole tighter.

Michael sits up sleepily, short curly hair tied in the tiniest protective braids possible, some small blond coils escaping their confines at the edges of his head. The older cherub wipes a small, chubby hand over his eyes and yawns before opening his duvet up just enough so that Lucifer could climb in.

"Make sure...go to sleep Lucikins..." Michael whispers tiredly, covering his yawning mouth before abandoning his teddy bear and putting his arm around his little brother instead.

Thunder sounds again. Lucifer stiffens and lets out a small sound. "Mikey...'m scared..." He grips onto his twins matching pajamas tightly with his tiny little hands.

Michael grins sleepily, red eyes staring into his twins same coloured ones. "Don't worry Lucikins! 'm always gonna p'tect you! That's wha' big brothers are for!"

The thunder still sounds, Lucifer still stiffens slightly,but surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his twin, he manages to sleep soundly.

After all the madness and badness. (Devil face emoji) You and Michael meet up in a Devildom café.

"That was productive!" The Archangel grins.

"Indeed it was Michael....indeed it was...." You say, a blissed out look on your face.

Michael arches a brow, "Is that one of Thirteen's leather jackets?"

"Maybe..." You say dreamily, playing with the sleeves.

Michael just laughs at you. "Get it, I guess! Anyway wanna watch Gilmore Girls with me? I need to catch up with Raphael...he's a few episodes ahead of me."

"Of course I do."

Michael brings his hands together in an imitation of a fly on a wall doing the hand thing. "Excellent."

"Do you think Luke's going to grow up to open a coffee shop?"

"Nah, he'd open a bakery."

this is utter bullshit and utter dogshit idek

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me michael #obey me thirteen #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me jesus #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me fluff #boop

237 notes · View notes

solivagant242 · 2 months ago

Text

losing you pt. 10

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, swearing, hospital, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt. 9 pt. 11

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

“Moony, have you eaten yet?” Her dark head pokes around the corner, framed by the untidy soft curls that he’d always longed to push back from her face. “It’s nearly three.”

He rests his burning eyes on his hands, groaning. “It is?”

She perches on the edge of his desk and leans forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it is. Did you have lunch?”

Remus grimaces. “Forgot.”

Amberly sighs. “You need to eat, love.”

Her hands find their familiar spot in his hair and he pulls her into him by the waist, savoring the smell of lavender that’s imbued in her clothes and skin. “Thanks for checking on me.”

She nuzzles into his shoulder. “Of course.”

She was so warm. She’d always been warm, everything from those chocolate-colored eyes to her pale, gentle hands that had always been able to soothe his scars and wounds and fears. Her smile melted him like spring sunlight on stubborn snow.

Amberly stroked the back of his head. “It’s okay, Moony.”

He chucked a piece of crumpled paper across the room, fists clenched. “I should have gotten better than that”-

“You did the best you could, right? It’s not like you didn’t try.” Her big brown eyes are wide with concern.

“It wasn’t enough,” he spits, chest heaving. “I wasn’t enough.”

Amberly touches his shoulder and he collapses next to her on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. “You’re always enough, Remus. No matter what.”

A sob shakes his shoulders and he clings to her, tears soaking her jumper, as her fingers card through his hair.

Icy tears are soaking Remus’ ears and pillow.

He’s been staring at the same blue-washed ceiling for hours now, unable to move or sleep or think anything other than the same four words that have been repeating mindlessly in his brain all day.

It’s all my fault.

If Amberly were here right now, she’d use her thumb to wipe his tears away and kiss the spots where they had been. She’d snuggle right up next to him and rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d wake during the night to find her in the exact same position, clinging to him with her soft curls draped over her face.

Once, Sirius had joked that sleeping with Amberly when she stayed the night must be like sleeping with a very large and very affectionate Venus flytrap. Remus had laughed as warmth flooded his bones and Amberly blushed next to him.

Now he doesn’t think she’ll ever look at him, much less hug him, again.

If she’s even here at all-

The thought hits him like a punch in the gut and he doubles up as a raw sob rends his chest in half.

No more holding hands on the way to the bakery in the mornings. No more sleepy cuddles on the battered living room couch. No more back and neck rubs by the light of the fireplace in the evening. No more random animal and math facts exchanged over lunch, or cheesy cat memes sent over text at all hours of the day.

All of that would be gone.

The added thought of and it’s all my fault wraps iron fingers of guilt around Remus’ ribs and squeezes. He buries his face in his hands as tears pour down his face, more tears than he believed possible after all the crying he’s been doing.

You did this to her. You pushed her away. Over and over again, after all she tried to do was help. You were a complete and utter prick to the one person who loved you more than she loved herself.

Merlin, she’d do anything for me. Did do anything for me. Countless visions of keeping her waiting, of her making him his favorite food even when she was tired, of those brown eyes being exhausted and drained because of him rose to his thoughts. But always, always so warm and full of love and that he felt like he was coming home every time he saw her face.

Until now.

Remus chokes back another sob.

The hospital gave him a room on the first floor, down the hall from Amberly. Apparently it was the “least they could do” after the state he’d been in when he saw her. He’d collapsed to his knees on the floor as the sheer force of what he’d done hit him. Sirius- who’d still been very close to punching his face in- had had to drag him out as the doctor watched impassively.

Down the hall.

She’s just down the hall.

His feet are on the ground before he knows it and he’s padding noiselessly down the white, blue-lit corridor. An eerie silence permeates everything. The narrow windows in front of the doors are dark and silent. No one is awake at two forty-three a.m.

Her room.

Her door.

Her bed.

Her-

Remus feels fresh tears pour down his face and he sinks onto the chair at the side of the bed.

She’s still, so still. Her face is paler than ever against the sterile white of the hospital sheets. Her eyes are deeply shadowed, and she’s breathing so faintly that the blue quilt is hardly moving. Her hair is spread across the pillow like it’s melting into the night, barely discernible in the dimness of the room.

He takes her hand. He can’t remember the last time they held hands, not the way they’d used to. Fingers interlocked, warm and sure, the one single guarantee out of everything in this life that he’d loved and loved and loved.

Amberly stirs.

His lips part as he turns towards her, shocked; her eyes flutter open and fix on him.

He can’t tell what she’s thinking. He can’t read her expression at all, and as he opens his mouth to croak out a I’msosorryIloveyoupleasedon’tleavemepleasepleaseplease-

“You’re not Remus.”

Her voice is soft, almost disappointed. There’s an odd note of resignation in it that strikes Remus to the core.

He clears his throat and tries to keep the tears out of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting slightly in the bed. Her cast rustles against the covers. “He wouldn’t have come.” Her eyes close again.

Remus’ throat closes up at the note of assurance in her voice. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Amberly mumbles. “Busy. He’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” she breathes. “I think I should leave him alone. He doesn’t like when I help.” A tiny bit more alertness returns to her eyes and she gazes at him in the dark. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Remus manages to choke out. “It’s not.”

Her eyes are luminous in the dark. “It is. It’s why I have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop”- Her voice is getting breathy and quiet as she sinks back down into sleep. “Stop caring.”

Then she’s asleep again and tears pour down Remus’ face as her hand goes limp and slowly, slowly slides away from his.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fanfic #remus angst #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus imagine #remus imagine angst #remus angst imagine #remus x reader #remus x reader imagine #marauders imagine #moony imagine #moony x reader

75 notes · View notes

autistic-sidestep · 1 year ago

Text

sidestep scar map

here's all the physical scar mentions of step's ive discovered so far that aren't choice dependent! (choice dep scars will be in another post). lemme know if i missed any!

edit: hi people from r/hostedgames o/

edit 2 (nov 8th): added some more i missed!

edit 3 (nov 30th 2024): put these all (excepting the photographs related one because i'm not sure that's ever confirmed in the text itself) on the wiki!

(cw for sh/sui mentions and graphic injury description)

general

"Have you seen me?" You don't bother to hide your sneer. Even with your clothes on, there are enough scars and marks that many people would pay dearly to remove them. (ch 22, argent meetup) Regenerate…the notion is a tempting one; could it work on your tattoos? You've tried cutting and burning, but there's just too much, you'd be scarred and mutilated before you were done, but this…this prototype, could it help you too? (ch 19, etc, regenerator discovery) "What?" A moment's confusion and then—finally—he adds up the dots. His frown deepens, and he looks between your face and your chest, marred by scars and brightly orange tattoos, marking you as other. As not human. "Are you saying that—" (ch 22, flystep apartment scene) "Do you like scars?" you tease, taking one of [Daniel']s hands, tracing it across one on your chest. An ugly one, a remnant from an angry attempt to carve away your tattoos until the drugs couldn't keep the pain at bay any longer. (ch 22, flystep apartment date) It's a slow, circling motion over the small of your back, palm against skin, warm fingers tracing the deep scars you both know are there. And a few that ${he} doesn't. (ch 17, hoots makeout) ${his} hands are running over your skin, over your back. You know ${he}'s tracing scars, the same as you, and having an easier time of it. No fancy hospitals for your body, just your own skills, and no need to make it look pretty. (ch 21, chargestep apartment nsfw)

autopsy (incision) scar(s?)

"I obtained…pictures." He lets out a sigh, rubbing his face. "Classified. Highly classified. I assumed they were from the autopsy." He focuses on you. "Your autopsy." […] "The damage from the fall was horrific…you looked dead. Opened up." (ch 22, steel bar meetup)

legs

You remember that [Psychopathor] fell against the wreckage, and it moved and caused you to scream out loud as it dug into your leg. There's still a scar there somewhere. (ch 2, warehouse fight)

face

"Yeah, things changed. For me." You touch your face without intending to. The thin scars there are the most obvious legacy of your fall, of the window tearing into you like memories. (ch 21, hoots) "I'm not the only one with scars." He rubs the side of his face as he looks at you, and you have to fight not to do the same. You can feel your own face itch with the need to pick at your scars. "Yeah," you admit with a tired sigh. "Looking into the mirror is not fun." For more reasons than one, but you'd be lying if the scars weren't one of them. Bad memories imprinted on your flesh, a reminder of nightmares you can't ever forget. It's interesting, really, the way they see you as another vet. Are you looking out of place enough for that? A helping of scars. The nervous awareness. (ch 22, steel bar meetup)

hands/wrists

"Does it say that the scar on your hand always itches when you're stressed?" (ch 22, flystep apartment date)

"I'm not sure about this," he says, looking down at your scarred hands as if he could read your mind. Soft. Human. He doesn't want to hurt them. (ch 25, post puppet crash step leg rights, chen apartment minddive)

You let Ortega take your hands in [theirs]. Warm. Calloused. Scarred. Just like yours. You can't help but trace the edge of ${his} mods where they break the skin, strangely cool to the touch. (ch 21, trans mc ortega apartment reveal)

You look down at hands so much cleaner than your own. $!{puppet_name} hides all scars. (ch 18, puportega stakeout)

"It feels like they do," you say, scratching one of the scars on your hand a little nervously. "I wish I could tell you, but I can't." […] Your hands are clenched. Hard enough that your knuckles are white. There are a few scars across them, memories of punching things you shouldn't punch. People. Armor. Walls. […] You press two fingers against your wrist, feeling your pulse, feeling the scars. It's a familiar sensation, but instead of the weight pressing against your shields, you feel like a balloon, ready to burst. (ch 17 - finch therapy scene)

arms

tattoo removal attempts

You tried to get rid of them after your first escape. A specialist, suitably coerced. You still have the scar on the inside of your arm where the lasers didn't quite take. Too deep. Something she had never seen before, and she wasn't lying. Almost as if they were regenerating. (ch 15/ch 17, reader regenereveal tag )

You've tried lasers to remove them. You've tried dermabrasion. You even flayed off a piece of your own skin, and while that worked, it left another scar, a deep one. You know it's not possible to do that for your entire body. It's too much surface area; the process would kill you or leave you maimed. Not exactly the life you want. _(ch 15/ch 17, reader regenereveal tag / ch 19, puppet auction)

You tug at your sleeve; it keeps clinging to your sweaty skin. The small hairs on the back of your arm stand on end. The scars are visible now, the ones you made yourself. The ones where you tried to remove them. (chapter 19, argent regene reveal)

"I'm not lying anymore." You very slowly tug your sleeve up, rolling it past the scars, past the places where you tried to obliterate the tattoos, up to where they peek out beneath the fabric. Sharp. Orange. Inhuman. Like you. You look away, regulating your breathing, keeping a straight face as ${mhis} fingertips trace the edges of the design. There's a slight "tsk" at the burn scars that cut them off, no doubt ${mhe} is adding the clues together. […] "I tried to burn parts of them off," you say, […] so ${mhe} doesn't need to ask. "Didn't work too well. Needs third-degree burns, or they'll grow back." "Really?" $!{mhe} bends your arm, and you shift to allow it. "Fascinating." "Flaying works if you cut down to the flesh." Your voice sounds dispassionate even to your own ears, and Dr. Mortum takes a step back with a shocked look on ${mhis} face. "I'd hate to know how you found that out." "Other arm." You tug your sleeve down now that ${mhe}'s stopped touching you. (ch 20, "good" mortum mc reveal at the lab)

Holding your breath, you raise your arm in front of you, watching the pale green hospital robe slip back, revealing the intricate tattoos etched into your skin, broken only by scars. Neon orange. (ch 24, mccrash, revoked legrights)

dog bite

Some [dogs] were kept to guard the perimeter; you got bit once for straying outside. You still have the scar on your arm, a reminder that things that are hurt inevitably turn on each other. (ch 15, 1st boneyard scene)

general arm scars

It's so easy to feel human around ${him}. So easy to ignore the fear. Your sleeves are rolled up to your elbows. Anything more would risk revelations you aren't ready for, but even like this, the scars are enough for conversation. […] *if suitag: The bubbles hide most; you keep them buried deep in the soapy water to make sure ${he} doesn't look. (ch 21, ortega apartment dishes)

sh scars (suitag dep)

The scars on your arms are hidden under your sleeves, and maybe they would be something you could talk about. Something she would expect. A safe revelation of self-harm. *if suitag: Across. Not lengthwise. Your one deal with yourself. Not yet. You have things to finish first." (ch 17, finch therapy scene)

#fh codediving #hopefully this format is useful!#ramblings #fallen hero #sidestep #archival adventures

163 notes · View notes

assmaster-8000 · 26 days ago

Note

I need to know all your thoughts of cecile

i need to preface this spiel with thanking you for opening my can of worms. will this satiate my endless need for this freak? maaaybe not. but like gay sex, it's a temporary fix and by god will i take it.

so, this post will delve into multiple aspects of my thoughts on cécile. i'll have to section it because if not, you'd probably just have a post the equivalent of a werewolf barking at their reflection in a mirror. here they are;

i. visual design

ii. personality and traits (backstory) / character development + his romance arc

iii. comparison to other characters + what made him stand out to me

no read more will be added on this post because i'm forcing everyone to either scroll past a wall of text or indulge my insanity. is this analysis? my simple thoughts? who fucking knows, man. not me. i don't know anything ever. everything is speculation, because my man's ain't even in the demo yet. ask me this question again when the extended demo drops LMFAO

i. visual design

the most notable aspect to cécile is his metal jaw, facial scar, and black eye.

his metal jaw had me in a pickle. for the longest time, i thought it was a prosthetic. as in, he had his lower jaw removed - regardless of how and why - and it acted as a replacement. however, on the ravenstar tiktok account, they show a draft of cécile's sprite that caught my attention.

he doesn't have his metal jaw, nor his iconic scar or black eye. he does have his original lower jaw, though. maybe this is just a draft before they settled on his current design. maybe this is how he looked in the canon past. maybe! but on top of seyl (the director of lost in limbo) confirming that cécile still has his tongue, i believe he was always intended to have his lower jaw. so the prosthetic is out of the picture.

right now, i believe it's more like a retainer; teeth appears to literally be growing out of his cheek, and i don't think it's the teeth in his mouth jutting out. i can't tell what exactly is the cause of all this, too. my favourite medical student (bean ily muah) said his facial scar appears to have been caused by a controlled flame, and shrapnel to the face based on the scarring around his lip. so he could have suffered an act of assault (physical? magical?), an accident, or maybe he's afflicted with a curse that developed teeth on his skin + his red eyes. could he be turning into a monster as time passes?

i also find it incredibly tragic that his eyes used to be brown before The Incident (air quotes). there's always something inherently tragic about the mundane being unattainable - to think that of all things in the world you are forbidden from, you are barred from the sweet innocence of adam and eve, rather than the glorious garden. brown eyes are the most common eye colour here on earth; imagine how cécile feels, the interloper with a face unmarred. a face that was once his. his dislike towards mc runs deeper than his dislike for everyone specifically because they're a harbinger of danger to the master he protects, and they could just be the past he's been hiding like a wound underneath his clothes.

the gaze of his bloodthirsty eyes... is it really? as in, always bloodthirsty? or is it so because it's your blood he needs on his hands?

aside from the practicalities of his metal jaw, i just think it's super... metal. (i wink at a camera offset and i proceed to get shot a million times. where were these snipers at the trump speech smh)

cough... anyways. i think it's bias, but one of my own oc's has a metal jaw prosthetic because they lost theirs in a fight long ago, so you can imagine i morphed into the spiderman pointing at spiderman² meme when i saw him. it's just automatically intriguing when the character's face is unapologetically damaged, unapologetically different. cécile and lázaro attracted my attention instantly because of how unique they look, and i appreciate that cécile's face does all the talking of his character while his attire is rather subdued. (even that itself speaks for him tbh)

as for my personal feelings, i appreciate a man with a long/wide nose. hit tweet, let doja cat smite me down herself.

now, as for his sprite's body language. i was rather taken aback at the fact that cécile has a less imposing stance than envy - yes, there's a defensive undertone to the way he holds his hands in front of him, but it's not to close him off from the world the way envy's crossed arms communicate that. in fact, cécile appears to be comforting himself. most people who hold/rub their own hand tend to do so because they're revolving a subtle conflict within themself. it doesn't help that the hand being held is the one that appears to have suffered the brunt of whatever he endured, based on the scars around his wrist. he could be holding it because it's instinct - to protect the side of him that was hurt the most. cécile is a weapon of war and a shield to his very core. he hurts others, and i don't think it'd be a stretch to say he hurts himself (why wouldn't he? the man that stares back in the mirror is so very wretched and it wouldn't be wrong to want to tear it all away.) cécile protects others (literally only gael) from the world, and cécile protects himself from the world and the additional enemy of himself.

he is a walking wound of all that has happened to him, and he knows acutely where the gash continues to weep.

yet, his cocked head also denotes a level of serenity that not even envy has. atleast, that's what it reads to me. it could also be an expression of interest in his surroundings, and hence, he's actually more on guard than envy. he doesn't keep his arms crossed, and instead in a stand still, because he constantly needs to be ready to pounce. maybe!

back to his attire. i adore the idea that gael actually picked it out for him. cécile is, technically, a representative of gael, so it makes sense his attire needs to hint at that, with the purple and all. but again, i would like to think of gael comparing outfit after outfit on cécile, engaging his opinion on which he thinks is best - and all cécile offers is, "whatever you deem is best, i will accept." (never ask this hoe where he wants to eat /j). one of the few things gael can do for a man like cécile is offering him a part of him to carry around.

also, for anyone who missed it - cécile has freckles ;)

ii. personality and traits (backstory) / character development + his romance arc

cécile is stated to be an istj, and seyl confirmed he's likely to be a scorpio sun. if so, loyalty is legitimately built into this man. a man if the fates wept tears of their eternal duty onto the spool when they wove his life into existence.

his reliance on the past + his traditions is gonna be like a pair of crutches to a man with both legs lobbed off. routine is the prison that keeps him going - break it, and you break him. after all, experience is all he has to go off of. as much as he may try not to linger on his past - that's exactly what he does. his memories are like ghosts in the corner of his bedroom. every good and bad experience, and by god is there a plethora of the latter, stands out like bruises he can't stop pressing down on. that's why i believe it's especially harder for you to gain cécile's worship; gael is all the good he's known, and you're just a strange human. why would he love you, a fickle being that can barely stop themself from being killed by him, when he could have an immortal sovereign? why, indeed. and it's gonna be especially hard for a man like cécile to grow accustomed to a love that's soft, because he's known violence all his life. he was born of it, made of it, and will be undone by it. that's all he can offer you, so he will expect the same from you the day he accepts you.

also, like... cécile literally fits the bill of scorpio's holding life long grudges. aside from protection, his primary desire is vengeance. and it's not something you can dissuade him from. why would you? you loved cécile because he's a walking bundle of rage and despair. you love him because his heart bleeds on you like an open wound. you will kiss the blood off his lips after the carnage - yours? his? someone else's? who cares, it's ours - and he will only sigh on yours, a thank you for being the best constant in his life of spite.

i can also see where cécile's need for domination comes from, with that extraverted thinking (Te). he may be a bodyguard in subservience to a god, but even they must know when and where to call the shots. it's very clear that control was robbed from him repeatedly ("[...] those who snatched his soul away from him—"), so it comes as another instinctual need to maintain control in every situation. and if he must trap it in the iron-fisted palm, so be it. that's exactly why cécile, like envy, benefits from an mc who knows how to push past sharp commands and loud warnings to chase after him. he relies on people shrinking away from him when he snaps to establish a clear line of boundaries. ultimately, it is by obeying caution that you'll never romance him, because you're playing into what he wants - and what he wants is you away from him. he needs an equally dominant person in a way that has them constantly battling for ultimate dominance, or maybe someone who is more dominant, but not in a way that completely imposes on him. in a way that shows him why exactly you can be his new master, y'know? in this life, everything is chains and prisons to cécile. it's just a matter of picking the most luxurious one. if you're shameless about what you can offer him, he might just take you up on it.

i think it's pretty obvious that cécile has volatile emotions hidden underneath (aries moon maybe???). he buries his softer sentiments deep below, where they lie, they run rampant. i'm a little unsure as to how this'll manifest, but cécile obviously can be soft and sentimental when he wants to, especially or only when the mc isn't looking. he traces their face in the dead of night - he alleviates their burdens behind their back - his favourite sex position is one where they can't see his face, but he can service them just fine. he can be vulnerable, but he doesn't want you to see him when he chooses to be once in a blue moon, lest you get the impression that there is a secret goodness to this violence. there isn't. he's not like envy - standoffish and cruel on the outside, soft and pliable underneath. no, peel away layer and layer of rage and you'll find more rage. crack away at that and you'll find a hollow heart. he's doing it because every human, no matter how depraved, is capable of SOME tender intimacy.

also, man. i think switching his loyalties is gonna be the equivalent of ripping all his skin off. like, yes. he loves you. the need to worship is strong, but it is unbidden for a reason. it is essentially betraying gael, isn't it? loving someone else? a man like cécile has a lot of 'love' in his heart, and all that love can only be directed at one person.

now... extraverted intuition? coupled with his scorpio sun? i imagine it feeds into the possession and obsession. it's less about worrying that you might look at others - it's about knowing that everyone has their eyes on you. it's an irrefutable fact, that there's a bounty like a guillotine on your neck. and he promised to protect you. he did, he promised. and he will, no matter what it demands of him, because you're the one thing that makes it all worthwhile and he'll be damned if the world takes more from him.

i don't know if i can sum his personality up, and i'm not interested to. he's an enigma, and i prefer complexity. as for his character development? i don't know. i really don't know. would it be bad to say? that i don't want him to get 'better'?

the appeal of cécile is that he can't offer you a 'normal' love that even a god, for all they're entrenched in, can offer you. his love is always bloodied. his love is always cruel. his love is all-consuming, like a punch in the mouth.

i think the one thing i wanna see, or predict for him to have, is to learn that there is someone who will do more than passively accept him. there is someone who actively desires him - needs him, even, in all his depravity. i want him to realise that he's not the only one who loves like he's the forest fire, and they're the forest or the witness. fire meets fire. violence for violence, like beasts.

maybe i want to see him become more open to someone calling the shots for him? and know that he can trust them, that they won't use him like everyone else has. honestly, it's difficult to not 'use' him. he's a lover, a weapon. the only difference is the affection in your grip when you swing his blade down to take another head. i want romancing him to come slow yet fast, harsh and cruel and intimate. i don't want the devs to feel like they need to water his morality or cruelty down, because like... isn't that his whole appeal. he's a killer and a sinner and that's why you love him. so on that note,

iii. comparison to other characters + what made him stand out to me

i originally was not interested in lost in limbo, because i tend to prefer darker horror. that changed when i saw lázaro, because the knife scene made me believe they were a FREAK freak. turns out they're pretty chill; and that's simply not my cup of tea, so my interest waned even more.

until i saw cécile.

my favourite romance trope of all time is obsession, but it's something i abstained from for so long because it's ALWAYS one-sided. with cécile, there's the strong potential that you're mutually obsessive, because let's face it. you won't be able to get anywhere with cécile without matching his freak. AND I MATCH HIS FREAKY I LOVE HIS NASTY!!! I LOVE UNAPOLOGETICALLY VIOLENT CHARACTERS!!! I LOVE CHARACTERS WHO UNAPOLOGETICALLY KILL AND MAIM AND DESTROY!!!! FUCK!!!!

i am not someone who is made to enjoy the tender mundanity of love. i want to be loved like a body hits the pavement below and that is exactly what cécile is.

i think the biggest difference is that cécile's whole romance with mc, aside from his loyalty to gael, relies on the dilemma of knowing he's just a man. the main cast are gods, they can afford to put up a better fight against whatever is ailing the two of you.

but cécile? he has almost nothing. he's just a dog, after all. he'll fight tooth and claw just to keep mc because there is quite literally nothing else he can do in the face of it all. and i love that it would make his route a lot more desperate. in life, we will all suffer so very beautifully. he might as well be your suffering, in name and heart. then, is he truly yours. then, are you truly his.

also, i adore the fact that cécile is the only openly hostile love interest to mc! envy has that ease to growing flustered that endears him even in the face of his... lack of manners. but cécile's only official existing line of dialogue is warning you to stay out of his way lest he gives you a quick death. STAY AWAY is literally printed in big, bold, black letters on his forehead, and i don't doubt he isn't afraid to be the one to kill mc.

AND I LIKE THAT OK!!! GIVE ME A CHALLENGE!!!

i think that is... the brunt of my thoughts, off the top of my head. feel free to ask me any more questions and i will try to go in depth but for now... we rot. @ravenstargames this is all your fault cécile is chasing me around in his basement AND I CAN'T GET OUT

#lost in limbo vn #lost in limbo #cécile lost in limbo #lost in limbo cécile #character analysis #i think...#thank you beautiful mutual poopdevil for feeding me

26 notes · View notes

blueraineshadows · 7 months ago

Text

Blood Bound Part Ten

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Sebastian finally has MC all to himself, but is she the same girl who was taken from him all those years ago? Leander is struggling with his feelings as he reveals shocking information.

12.6k Tags: NSFW / angst / trauma / anxiety and depression / mentions of death and murder / pining and sexual tension

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Reading tag list at the end. Let me know if you would like to be added ✨️💕

Ten: Only Love Can Hurt Like This

“I’m all ears, sweetheart.”

The first time MC saw Sebastian Sallow, he had been beside the fireplace in the Slytherin common room with his nose stuck in a book. His comment about her being the new fifth year had been borderline dismissive, and then he had taken a moment to really look at her, and he had put down his book to introduce himself. To this day, she still wasn’t sure what had made her pause and look at him in the first place, only that she had hesitated, lingering there by the huge fireplace until he had noticed her.

Their conversation had been brief, but his charm and charisma had stuck with her for a long time afterwards. When she had placed her head on the fresh, clean pillow in her dormitory, the image of Sebastian’s beautiful, brown eyes had drifted through her thoughts.

It was safe to say that he had made an impression upon her.

So much had happened since that day, years had passed, and they had both changed in that time, but his eyes still had the power to render her almost boneless. Smooth like chocolate, flecked with golden caramel, and surrounded by enviable long, dark lashes, they were beautiful eyes indeed. Paired with his irresistible charm, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a devastating smile. She felt that familiar feeling as she stared down at him. She was falling, diving head first into those eyes, and she would be utterly lost if she wasn’t careful.

Words were backed up behind her lips, her throat constricting against the burst of longing and frustration that threatened to spill out from her, but she kept still, her hands still wrapped about his throat. For so long, she had tried to imagine what it would be like to face Sebastian again, long hours spent in her cell just waiting for the day to come, and here he was. Flat out on the ground beneath her, at her mercy and being surprisingly submissive, and yet she seemed incapable of speech.

Loosening her grip on him, she felt his throat bob under her palm as her hands traced against his skin, the roughness of stubble grazing against her soft fingertips. He was thicker, his neck strong, his jaw more defined. Her fingers trembled as they examined a slim scar that was new, ghosting up over cheeks that were no longer round but still smothered in freckles. She knew this face so well it appeared regularly in her dreams, and yet it was like she was discovering him all over again as she traced the lines of his face, his dangerous eyes never leaving her for a second.

His smile slowly faded, his eyes darkening as she explored. Her thumb grazed close to his mouth, and his lips parted, her gaze lingering on the softness as she remembered a time when all she had wanted was to kiss him.

“It’s so good to see your face, MC,” he said, his voice low and rough about the edges. “I missed you.”

Her hands stilled, and she slowly met his eyes. Reality slammed through the intimacy of the moment, snapping her back from her memories of what came before, and the darkness rushed into the cavern in her chest. The chill breeze cut across her face, lifting strands of her hair and making the branches of the surrounding trees creak and groan. Glancing about them, the shadows were long through the woods, their surroundings so nondescript that they really could have been anywhere. Sebastian had ripped her away from the smog and bustle of London, and now they were seemingly alone.

“Where are we?” She asked, removing her hands from his face as though he burned her. She shifted, climbing off the expanse of his chest, scuffing her hands and knees as she scrambled away from him. “Where have you brought me?”

He looked confused, hesitating before he sat up. “We are in woodland not far from York,” he said.

Her stomach dropped, and she glanced around in panic. “York? That’s so far away,” she gasped. Her hand sought out her wand, tugging it free from her holster and gripping it tightly.

“Hey, easy,” Sebastian said, holding his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you. MC…it’s me. You know me.”

Did she? Looking at him now, he was both familiar and yet a stranger. It didn’t make sense, but the panic in her chest was real, and a sudden twist of longing pierced through her. Breathing faster through her shock, she realised she wanted the reassuring and comforting presence of Leander. She aimed her wand at Sebastian, wincing as her blood quickened with a slow burn. The blood pact.

“Take me back,” she demanded. “I can’t travel long distances yet. You have to return me to London. Now.”

The look of dismay on his face almost made her falter, but then his expression tightened, a muscle working in his jaw as he got to his feet. “No,” he said firmly.

“You have to!” She demanded, standing up to keep at his level. She shifted, side stepping as she kept her wand at the ready. “You shouldn’t have taken me like that.”

“Are you saying you would have rather stayed in that tunnel with the Aurors?” Sebastian curled his lip in disgust. “Harrington is a first class prick, and as for Perfect Prewett, I’m not going anywhere near London all the time he has that active tracker for me. We need to keep moving for the next few hours in case they try to follow us.”

Her lower lip trembled as she stared through the darkened mass of trees. She had no idea where they were and had nowhere she could visualise close enough to Apparate. The fear of messing it up, or getting Splinched, made her reluctant to attempt getting herself back to London. She could try running, but Sebastian would no doubt catch her, and fighting him off would run the risk of her blood boiling until her death because of their blood pact.

“Just take me close enough so that I can travel the rest,” she said, holding her head at a confident angle despite the panic gripping her. “I know where to go once I’m in London.”

He stared at her through his lashes, his face dark and dangerous in ways that made her shiver, her heart hammering behind her ribs. “Why are you so desperate to get back? What is the attraction?”

He stepped slowly to one side, but subtly closer, his hands hanging loose at his sides, but she was not fooled. Lessons learned long ago had her tracking his predatory movements, and she counter-stepped, adrenaline spiking as she slipped into old habits. She may not be as quick as she once was, but she knew not to let him gain the advantage. He was like a coiled snake when confronted, and his bite was dangerous.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I have business in London,” she said, tilting her chin upwards as she adjusted her sweaty grip on her wand. “You can’t just snatch up people whenever you feel like it. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I was about to gain a one-way ticket to Azkaban for murder, and I needed to get out of there,” he said carefully, dark eyes flashing. His head tilted to one side. “Once upon a time, you wouldn’t have thought twice about fleeing alongside me. Are you saying that’s not the case anymore?”

It felt like she was being torn down the middle, her chest filled with the longing to throw herself back into his arms and just forget everything else, but the tension building up along her spine had her holding back. If she made the wrong move, it could jeopardise everything. Could she trust him? It made her pulse dip and skip, and her lungs felt tight as she tried to steady her breathing in an attempt to appear calm and controlled before him.

“What are you doing with Rookwood?” She demanded, holding her aim true. The fire licked in her blood, heating with intent to burn, but she kept her wand arm steady.

His lips curved into a sly smirk as he slipped his own wand free with a graceful twist of his wrist. “What are you doing with Prewett?”

“I trust Leander with my life,” she said, a warning edge to her voice. “I can’t say the same for a man who is supposed to be dead. I watched Rookwood die, Sebastian, and now he is very much alive. What are you doing with him?”

Seeing Rookwood standing with Sebastian had confirmed everything the Auror’s had told her. Dressed in a smart coat and top hat, his cold, blue eyes narrowed in a way that brought shivers of memory to her, it made a mockery of the desperate fight she’d had to endure in the darkness of that ruin. Seeing Sebastian beside him, another soldier to do Rookwood’s dirty work, had her defensive barriers slamming into place.

Sebastian paused, brow creased in thought as he stared at her, his wand pointing down towards the ground. “You think I am on Rookwood’s side?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she said carefully. “It’s been four years, Sebastian. I’ve been hidden away from the world. From the little I have seen, you appear to be rather comfortable within his ranks.”

Dismay made his face crumble, and he looked away from her, almost turning his back on her aim as he pushed his wand back into its holster. Her grip slackened slightly as she watched him, her nerves stretched taut with uncertainty.

“You don’t trust me,” he murmured, pushing his hand through his hair. He glanced upwards, the boughs of the trees shifting in the wind offering glimpses of the night sky. “You don’t trust me, but you can trust an Auror. Someone who could throw us both into Azkaban without a second thought.”

Anger began to simmer in her belly, her hand tightening once more around her wand. “The only reason I am standing here at all is because of Leander,” she snapped, her hand beginning to shake with the effort of holding her aim. The pact was screaming through her blood now, blending with her anger in white hot sparks. “Without him, I would be dead, my skin blistered to death because of this fucking blood pact. But you, Sebastian, you get to murder your way across the country while I rotted away in that black hole.”

Her blood seared through her veins and her heart hammered with lightning sparks as her temper flared, a guttural cry of pain escaped through her gritted teeth and she swayed on her feet, a red haze crowding in on her vision. Her feet dragged across the carpet of leaves as the horizon wavered out of focus. Hissing in a breath, she jolted as hands grasped her upper arms, her eyes clashing with blazing brown ones.

“MC, what’s wrong,” Sebastian demanded, panic twisting his face. “Why would you be dead?”

She closed her eyes, unable to look at him as she fought back her anger, shocked at the strength of it surging through her. Bitterly, she felt the tremble in her legs and knew that if he let her go, she would likely stumble and fall. At the same time, she wanted to rip herself out of his grip and run.

“You’re right,” she gasped, her head dipping forward as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “I don’t trust you.”

Arms encircled her, crushing her against the expanse of his chest as the darkness closed in, and the sensation of her stomach being pulled sharply behind her belly button told her they were Apparating again before everything faded to nothing.

Leander

The pale dawn was creeping across London, the air chilled and threaded with a smog so thick that the view from Leander’s kitchen window was like a ghostly wasteland. Sitting at his table, a cup of tea cold and forgotten beside him, he stared out at the new morning with eyes tight and aching with exhaustion. He hadn’t even tried to sleep, his bed cold and vacant, untouched. The thought of climbing under blankets still touched by her scent made his throat feel tight. The sudden tearing away of her presence had left him reeling. He knew he had grown attached to MC, but seeing her vanish in Sallow’s arms last night had hit him harder than he had expected.

Sighing, he rubbed his face with both hands, fighting against the darkness that seemed to hang heavy over his head. Not only was MC gone, but the image of Odessa’s empty, glassy eyes seemed to be branded behind his eyelids, the shock of her betrayal seemed to shake the foundations of his belief in the wizarding justice system.

Her quick mind and feisty wand handling had made her an outstanding cadet, and they had shared experiences through their training together that he had thought meant something. It made him cold to the bone that Odessa had been sneaking around behind his back all that time, perhaps her flirting had been a means to an end rather than genuine interest, and he felt like such a fool.

There would be no more playful smiles across the office. There would be no need to find an excuse to get out of the date she had set for Friday evening. Odessa was dead. Cut down by Sallow. MC was gone. Taken by Sallow.

His gaze fell upon the table top where he had placed the file Andrew Larson had given him. There had been no opportunity to hand the information over to MC, and it sat there on his table, another weight pressing down upon his head. Beside it sat the tracking compass, the needle pointing towards the north. It had shifted slightly a few times during the course of the night, which meant that Harrington had been right.

After Sallow and MC had vanished before his eyes down in the tunnel, he had been so enraged that he had lost his temper for a few moments, losing his grip on his careful control as his own personal feelings swamped his professional role. Harrington had calmed him down, and when he had pulled out the compass, realising he could track Sallow and hunt him down, it was calmly pointed out to him that they could be anywhere. Sallow was strong. He would take her miles away and keep moving to avoid being found. He wouldn’t give up easily.

Harrington had also pointed out that MC hadn’t really put much of a fight up, either. Of course, she would let Sallow take her. Leander hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it was possible that MC had planned for something like that to happen all along. She had promised to stay hidden, and yet she had revealed herself. He had known she would go back to Sebastian eventually, but it felt all too soon.

But, when he had held his hand out to her, she had stepped forward. She tried to come to him before being pulled back, and it was that one hopeful moment that Leander couldn’t let go of as he sat at his kitchen table. Her eyes had met his, a flicker of uncertainty, a flash of that warmth he had become addicted to, and it had torn his heart in half as she vanished with that look on her face.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the enchanted parchment, one edge ragged where he had torn off the other half to place in MC’s hands. Smoothing it out on the table top, he dipped his quill in ink and thought for a moment, choosing his words before he began to write. Authoritative Auror, or concerned lover? Who should he be when he reached out to her?

He wrote a few lines, just wanting to remind her that he was here and that they still had a job to do despite the tangled emotions they seemed to have woven around them. As the ink began to fade, soaking into the parchment as it found its way to MC’s half, Leander rubbed his face with his hands and took a steadying breath. He had to wash up and change, refocus his head, and go into the office. There was work to be done, and there was nothing more he could do for MC other than trust that she would find her way back to make her report. Dare he hope that she would want to find her way back to him.

Sebastian

Hogwarts valley was spread out below them, the castle itself standing proudly, the windows lit with a welcoming glow, the night sky littered with thousands of stars that were beginning to fade as dawn crept up over the surrounding mountains. It had been a long time since he had laid eyes on this place, the comfort drawn from seeing it was almost as powerful as the warming charm he had cast around himself and MC. These Highlands were home, they always would be, and he had to bring her back here. This is where they first met.

Sat against an old, fallen tree, Sebastian held MC in his arms. She hadn’t woken up since she had passed out. The sight of her in so much pain, her eyes bloodshot and her skin deathly white, had filled him with a fear so tangible he had almost screamed. He had Apparated her into Cumbria, a spot near the lakes he had visited with his parents as a child. Her body had remained limp and unresponsive, and he had felt his eyes burn with tears at the thought that he might lose her after only just getting her back. Not wanting to risk being found, he had waited an hour, and then he had brought her here to the hillside overlooking Hogwarts.

He carried emergency supplies in the enchanted pocket of his jacket for times when he could be caught out on a job. Wrapping MC in a tartan blanket for warmth, he had settled with her in his lap, reluctant to let her go. It pained him to replay the last words she had uttered to him, hearing that she didn’t trust him anymore ripped through him like a cold blade. Nothing else could have disarmed him quicker.

Blinking back his tiredness, his fingers sought out the pulse point at her neck again, the delicate flutter of life under his fingertips reassuring him that she was alive. To look at her, you couldn’t be blamed for fearing the worst. Eyes closed and utterly still, her face was deathly pale, dark smudges under her eyes hinting at the lack of sleep. Her jaw and cheekbones were still too defined, her limbs so slender. She made him think of a tiny bird that had been held in captivity for so long that she had forgotten how to fly. Her distress hung heavy about his neck, guilt almost choking him as he brushed strands of hair from her face, his hands stroking her soft skin as the fear of losing her loomed above all else.

He sought out her left hand, turning it over to smooth his thumb over the red scar that matched his own. The bitterness with which she had mentioned the pact they had made stung him. He had clung to that bond like an anchor as he had tried to find his way. To think she hated it added to the fears clawing up his throat.

Cupping her face, he stared down at her, his thumb stroking softly against her cheek. If only she would open her eyes. She had such pretty eyes, and they sparked with such energy and fire. He had always been drawn to them, losing himself in her gaze and feeling like he belonged. To see the uncertainty and the guarded look she had given him earlier made him feel cold, his loneliness shrouding him and making him shiver.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling his eyes begin to sting. “I should have tried to come for you sooner. Forgive me, please. I love you.”

Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, her skin chilled beneath his lips. Holding her closer in an effort to keep her warm, he swallowed down the urge to cry, blinking away the wetness gathering in his eyes. He needed to stay strong for her. Closing his eyes, he rested his head atop hers, feeling drowsiness sneaking up on him as the first faint glow of morning crested over the peaks.

“Lee,” she mumbled, stirring against him.

Sebastian’s eyes flew open, the name slipping from her lips hitting him like a punch to the gut. It was the name she had uttered in the memory Black Dahlia had shown him of her prison cell when she had looked so lost and broken. Rousing from sleep, she was asking for Prewett again, suggesting that he was often with her when she woke up. The thought made Sebastian tense, his jaw clenching in envious fury as he watched her eyes flickering open. Smoothing his face into a careful mask lest she see his anger, he kept his arms around her, but was poised ready to move if she flew into a temper again.

Her fingers curled into the front of his jacket, her lips twitching upwards in the corners, and then she froze as her eyes met his gaze. Her lips parted in surprise, a crease appearing on her brow. “Seb…”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said dully, feeling his cheeks burn as he dipped his gaze away from her.

She sat up, rubbed her eyes and peered around them, a soft sigh leaving her mouth as her gaze landed on the castle in the distance. Her eyes swung back to him, searching his face as myriad emotions crossed her features. “You brought me to Hogwarts.”

“Back to where it all began, sweetheart,” he said, leaning back against the log and pushing his hands into his hair. “The place where we first met. Sometimes I wish we could go back to that day, get our hands on one of these time turner things I’ve read about, and go back to that moment in the common room when you came up to me by the fireplace.”

“You remember that?” She asked, pulling her robe tighter around her body. The blanket had slipped down behind her, and he reached for it, wrapping it about her shoulders.

“How could I forget?” He smiled, daring to brush his fingers under her chin before sitting back again. She was still seated between his thighs, her legs draped over one of his. “There you were, so eager to start your Hogwarts adventure, and so beautiful. I think you turned the head of every boy in our year and the years above, with your smile. I was honoured that you chose to spend your time with me.”

Staring out across the valley towards the castle, the breaking dawn lighting the sky behind her, she had never looked more beautiful to him. He ached to hold her closer and wished he could just disappear with her forever.

“Do you regret knowing me, MC?” He asked, a slight tremor in his voice. “If you could go back to that day, would you walk past me instead of stopping? I would walk past me given the choice.”

Biting her lip, she frowned, thinking over the question before turning to look at him. “So, if we went back to that day, what would you do differently? Let’s say I still approached you, and I chose you to accompany me to Hogsmeade when asked by Professor Weasley. Between then and now, what would you change?”

“I wouldn’t wait so long before plucking up the courage to kiss you,” he said, biting back a grin. “I wasted so much potential snogging time by being a coward.”

“That's the first thing that comes to mind?” She arched her brow as she looked at him.

“Kissing you is one of my favourite things, MC. Why wouldn't I wish for more of it?”

A glorious blush deepened across her cheeks as she rolled her eyes and turned her face back towards the view, tugging the blanket closer around herself. “Still a smooth talker, I see.”

His smirk faded as he considered her. She hadn’t answered his question about any regrets having him in her life. “What would I change?” He said quietly, reaching out to brush his fingers across her shoulder, trailing them lightly down her back.

“I wouldn’t let anyone take you from me if I could have that time again. You shouldn’t have gone to Azkaban for my mistakes, and I know that I can never get that time back for you, but I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, MC.”

Keeping her gaze averted, she plucked aimlessly at the edge of the blanket. He could see the uncertainty on her face, the stiff way she held herself under his light touch. Swallowing down the ache in his throat, he withdrew his hand.

“Do you really not trust me?” He asked, his voice pained.

“It’s been a long time, Sebastian,” she murmured, finally turning to look at him. Sadness darkened her eyes. “I’m not sure I even know you anymore. I mean, look at you, running from Aurors and keeping company with Ashwinders. What are you doing with them, Seb?”

Absently, he rubbed his hand along his forearm where his branded marks were, his dark deeds hanging over his head as he looked at the only girl who could squeeze his heart and leave him breathless. Ominis and Anne had been lecturing in his ear for years about his choice of company, and he had shrugged it off without a second thought. Seeing the sadness on MC’s face and hearing her say that she didn’t know him anymore cut him open in a way that made his cheeks burn with shame.

He hung his head, his hands coming up to cover his face as years of dancing on the edge of the law caught up with him.

“When I found out Rookwood was alive, I wanted to kill him,” he said, rubbing his face before letting his hands fall into his lap, close to her leg. “The only way to get close to him was to work for the Ashwinders, and so I began to infiltrate the gang. It took so long to get close to Rookwood, and as I did rise through the ranks, I discovered that he collected rare spell books and artefacts. I realised that if I could get my hands on his collection, I might be able to find out what curse he used on Anne or find a way to help her.”

“She’s still alive, then,” MC muttered, her face tightening.

Sebastian nodded, noting the flash of fury in her eyes. “It took me so long to get into Rookwood’s inner circle, but I still haven’t found out where he keeps his rarest collection,” he said, his mouth twisting with regret. “And then, he started talking about you.”

“Me?” She frowned. “What about me?”

“I think he wants to collect you, MC,” he said carefully. “He wanted to break you out of prison so that you could join the Ashwinders. That Auror I just took out told us your cell number and gave us a way to get into Azkaban so we could sneak you out.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. “McKinnon did what? That bitch!” Her eyes widened and she put her fingers to her lips. “Merlin, she came to my cell in her disguise. She appeared at my cell door, and I thought I was imagining it.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. “She had to show me the memory to prove it was you before I entered the prison.”

“You came for me?” Her eyes swung to him, her face a mask of pure shock.

He nodded. “I did. I entered Azkaban, but you were already gone. Some crazy, old crone said you left with a man, and then I barely made it out after the Dementors realised we shouldn’t have been there.”

“I can’t believe you did that…” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, tugging the blanket even tighter around herself. She shook her head. “I can’t believe that bitch, McKinnon. She sent you into Azkaban even though she knew I was getting out of prison. I was taken to a safe house, and she was one of the Aurors guarding it.”

“I knew she was double crossing us,” he seethed, his hands clenched into fists. “I had to take her out, MC. She was meeting Rookwood to tell him more information about you, and I was worried that she might tell him…”

He paused, biting his lip, and she met his gaze with a curious frown.

“Tell him what?”

“I know what you’re doing, MC,” he admitted after a pause. “I know they let you out to spy on the Ashwinders and Rookwood.”

She shook her head, shifting position as she began to back away from him, her face bone white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, letting the blanket slip from her shoulders.

Sebastian reached for her, his hand clamping around the wrist of her wand arm before she could grab it, his eyes determined as he stared at her. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart. You’re a spy for the British Auror Office.”

The flash of fear in her eyes was very real before she hardened her face, yanking against his grip with urgency. “Let me go!”

He could move lightning quick when he wanted to, and she was a dangerous little witch given the chance. He had her on her back in an instant before she could even think of running from him, pinning her hands easily against the soft grass of the hill. The sun was flooding the valley with its early morning rays, a low lying mist lingering over the lake and river below.

MC looked up at him, her face so pale, her eyes darkening with fear. It stabbed at him, made his heart ache to feel the tension in her arms as she resisted his grip. He needed her to trust him again.

“Why do you think I killed that Auror, MC?” He said, leaning over her, his eyes burning into hers. “I couldn’t let her tell Rookwood what you were doing. I couldn’t put you at risk. I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you, MC. I can promise you that.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breathless as she stared, wide-eyed.

“You’re going to spy on Rookwood, and I’m going to help you,” he said. “He doesn’t know why you’re out, only I know the truth. We are going to get our hands on Rookwood’s collection, and we are going to bring that bastard down together. You and me.”

“Are you serious?”

He smiled, feeling the tension slipping out of her, but he maintained his hold on her wrists. He bent his head lower, his nose almost touching against hers. She really did have the most intoxicating eyes. “Deadly serious,” he whispered. “I’d do anything for you, MC. I know it’s been a long time, sweetheart, but I never stopped loving you. Not once.”

Her gaze dipped to his mouth, so close to hers, and he felt his blood fire with want. Was he breaking through to her? Was he reminding her of how it had been, how it could be again? All the time turners in the world could take them back to the start, but he was certain they would always find each other. Their fates were entwined. They had to be. She felt like a part of him, and she had to feel that, too.

He tilted slightly, daring to lower his mouth closer, desperately hungry to taste her kiss. He could hear her quickened breaths, her fingers flexing against the grass under his grip, but her eyes remained hesitant.

“I wish I could believe you,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“It’s the truth,” he promised, releasing one of her wrists to cup her face. “It will always be you.”

He pressed his lips against hers in a soft kiss, savouring the feel of her before trailing his lips down over her jaw, mouthing against the velvety smoothness of her throat.

“Seb,” she whimpered, her fingers gripping at his shoulder.

He kept kissing her, more firmly now, his breaths coming harder and faster as he worked his way towards her ear. It had been so long, and his hunger was near insatiable.

“Seb…please,” she gasped, pushing against him with her free hand. “You need to stop. I can’t do this…stop.”

He stopped, lifting his head to look at her flushed face. “Why not?”

She winced, looking away from him. “It’s been a long time, Sebastian. I can’t just pick up where we left off…”

“You can trust me, MC,” he insisted, his grip tightening on her, the feeling that she was slipping away from him becoming fiercer. “I promise you. I stand by the oath I made.”

He pushed himself up onto his knees and held out his left hand, revealing the scar that was a twin of hers. “This pact means something. We are bonded by our blood, you and me. Forever. I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

“We were kids when we did that, Sebastian. So much has changed since then,” she said, her brow creasing as she studied her own scarred palm. “This pact almost killed me in Azkaban. They shackled me to a chair and poured Veritaserum into my mouth to get information out of me.”

His eyes widened, and panic ripped through him. “What did you tell them?”

Her eyes narrowed to furious slits. “Oh, don’t you worry. Your secrets are safe. You have Leander to thank for that, by the way,” she spat, getting to her feet and brushing loose grass from her robe. “If it wasn’t for him, I would be dead, and your name would be marked up ready for my empty cell. He swapped the serum out so I wouldn’t die because he actually fucking cares what happens to me. The only thing this pact is good for is your own preservation, Sebastian. So far, all it has done is hold me just as much of a prisoner as those black stone walls did.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, his throat closing up with fear. He moved towards her, and she backed up. She was going to disappear. He could feel it. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave like this. Let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave.”

“I can’t stay here,” she said, wiping a stray tear that slid from her eye as she backed away from him. “I need to think, or maybe I need more time, I don’t know. But, I do have to get back to London. I can’t stay here.”

Clenching his hand into a fist, Sebastian felt his jaw tighten, envy twisting him up inside. “Back to London. More like back to Prewett, right? Your white knight. He isn’t the only one who cares about you, MC. You have to believe that.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she averted her gaze again. “I have to meet with Leander, or I will be breaching the terms of my probation,” she said, tilting her chin upwards in that stubborn way of hers. “I won’t go back to Azkaban, Sebastian. Not for you, not this time.”

“So, what happens now?” He asked. “Back to London, and then what? You report back to your precious Auror, and tell him what a fucking disappointment I am. What about us?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head, and he felt his heart rip open. “But, I will come and find you. I agree that we need to work together.”

“MC, wait,” he pleaded, stepping towards her.

More tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped them away quickly with the back of her hand. She met his eyes. “I did my waiting, Sebastian. Four years of it. In Azkaban. It’s going to take more than a few sweet promises to make up for it. If you love me like you say you do, then you’ve got to prove it.”

Her face was so hard, so cold, flickers of ancient magic flaring in her eyes as she stared at him. She was terrifyingly beautiful, and all that power was raging inside her tiny frame, held up by the iron of her spine. She had always been spirited, it had been one of the traits that had drawn him to her, and maybe he had become complacent in her absence.

“I do love you,” he said fiercely.

“Does Luella Rookwood know that?” She asked, her eyebrow arching upwards.

His stomach plummeted, and he almost choked as the blood drained from his face. She couldn’t possibly know about that. “I…”

“I guess I’ll see you in the Black Rose, Sallow,” she said. “Save me a seat at the top table.”

The air around her flickered and then she was gone. He gulped, staring at the spot she had been in as his head crashed with a jumble of thoughts, fear gripping him like never before. Had Luella got to her? Rosier wouldn’t have blabbed. What did she know? His head spun with questions, and he was furious that through all of this, Leander fucking Prewett had once again saved the day.

His scream of fury cut through the air, a flock of birds taking flight from some nearby trees as he fell to his knees, his eyes clouding with tears as he gazed across the valley towards Hogwarts. Why was everything so hard? And why did he keep losing the people that he loved? What was wrong with him?

Solomon was right. He really was a disappointment, and all he ever seemed fated to do was fail.

A blast of light shot up into the sky and he turned his gaze beyond the castle where the murky dark of the Forbidden Forest spread out like a shadowy carpet. Right in the centre, a column of blue and white lightning seared up into the pale blue of the morning sky, crackling and flickering with astonishing power. He stared in awe, his chest heaving with a steadying breath as his heart pounded. It was her. It had to be.

Pressing a hand to his chest, he wondered if it was anger or pain, or maybe it was both that had her blasting her magic into the heavens. It made his eyes burn, and he blinked away the tears, fear replacing his fury as he watched the powerful display of magic.

If Rookwood managed to get his hands on that magic, there would be no stopping the terror he could unleash on the world. That could never happen.

Whatever happened between him and MC, Sebastian would do everything he could to protect her and her magic. He did love her, and he vowed to prove it. He wasn’t entirely sure how yet, but he would. On this, he refused to fail.

The cool dark of the Forbidden Forest welcomed her as she landed on the compacted dirt. Not even bothering to catch herself, she let herself tumble down to the ground, rolling until she faced the canopy of twisted trees. She could barely see the sky through the thickness of the forest roof, a chill mist clung to the air and kissed her hot cheeks, and the croak and rustle of all manner of critters could be heard in the surrounding flora. The pressure in her chest was monumental, and it needed a release.

Sebastian’s face when she had said Luella’s name. His pallor had paled so quickly, his mouth gaping in shock, lips moving as he tried to answer her. Guilty as sin.

Her scream ripped from her throat as she reached for the sky through the gnarled branches, the release of pressure so fierce and sudden that her back arched up from the dirt, her ancient magic manifesting into bolts of lightning. Much like when she had saved Leander from the Dementors, the raw emotion of the moment charged the magic to its full potential, and there was no need for a wand. Her body was the conduit, and she unleashed her roiling mass of turmoil into the atmosphere.

The storm raged through her body, screaming along her bones and flooding her soul as she tried to manage the whirlwind of suppressed feelings that tore up her insides. While she had been enclosed in terror and darkness, Sebastian had been seducing the enemy. It was like feral blows to that tender place behind her ribs, and she began to sob, her magic faltering and sputtering out as she curled up and bawled.

Why was everything so confusing? Seeing him again had opened up the desperate longing she’d hidden so carefully from the Dementors, all those precious memories of their first kisses, the excitement of falling for him. She had wanted to throw herself into his arms and believe the sweet words that fell from his lips. She ached to feel that fire and longing that only he could spark into life, but she had fought against it, tangled in her guilt over finding comfort and pleasure in the arms of another.

She had almost told Sebastian the truth, knowing the petty jealousy he clung to over Leander would make her words strike like blows. She wanted him to hurt as she did.

All that her Auror had ever done was take care of her. Had it been so wrong to seek comfort from Leander? The little pocket of warmth she had discovered held back the devastating loneliness. Burying herself in that glow had given her the strength to stand on her own feet and take those first steps into freedom.

Letting her tears fall freely, she wrapped her arms about herself and realised how deeply she had come to care about Leander. The shock of missing him slammed into her, stealing her breath as she gulped through her tears. Maybe it wasn’t a passionate love or an all-consuming love, but she suspected she loved him for being the caring gentleman that he was. He meant safety to her, and the urge to run to him was very strong. Was it so terrible to need someone to be her safety net? She seemed to free fall into nothing, and the longing to have someone there ready to catch her was so strong it was almost a pain.

She was falling again right now, spinning through chaos and feeling lost. Leander would catch her. She didn’t doubt it. She could get herself to London, and he would wrap her up safe and warm. But, surely, she needed to catch herself. If she didn’t, then life was only going to get harder.

Or, she could run.

If she ran hard and far enough, she could escape all of the trauma and danger. Somewhere out there in the world, she could carve a new life for herself. Who would miss her if she ran? Not her old school friends. They would stay well clear of a murdering ex-convict. They wouldn’t want her around their busy lives. Sebastian had clearly found a path to walk with another woman to warm his bed, and Leander would move on and find himself a lovely wife to come home to eventually.

Nobody would miss her if she were to just disappear. Alone, there was no danger of being abandoned or let down. Alone. Always alone.

Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself, remembering how devastating it had been when Leander had kissed her goodbye and left her in her cell that day. She had screamed and fought against it, almost on her knees begging for him not to leave her alone. It must have been the lowest she had ever felt, and yet, she had come back from that.

She had to keep fighting. She was stronger than she looked.

Sniffing back her tears, she sat up, glancing around the clearing in the forest, the glow of fireflies dancing around the lake catching her eyes. Beside her was the stone birdbath that she had used to open the secret chamber behind the swirling stone wall behind her. That had been years ago, when she had been a naive girl ready to walk into all sorts of danger, thinking that she could manage whatever horrors awaited around the corner. Perhaps not that much had changed in that respect, although she hoped she was wiser.

Standing, she wiped her cheeks and moved closer to take a look at the birdbath, remembering the dead boy who had led her here through the dark forest back in her school days. She wasn’t sure what had made her Apparate to this spot, only that she had remembered the shadowy dark under the trees, the cool air and mysterious atmosphere giving you a feeling of isolation as though you were in another world. All she had wanted was to flee Sebastian and the allure of his eyes, his strong arms, his tempting words. The temptation to give in to him was all too real, and she had to fight it.

A shimmer to her left made her look up, her eyes widening as a spectral form floated through the trees as though summoned by her memories of this place.

“Richard?” She whispered.

“Oh! It’s you creating the storm!” The ghostly vision drifted closer, his face lighting up in delight as he approached. “I did not expect to find you here at the root of all that lightning. Although, now that I think of it, I suppose it does make sense.”

MC wiped harder at her cheeks and tried to summon a smile, but her lips only wobbled as she looked up at Richard Jackdaw. He looked just the same, his curling hair framing his boyishly handsome face, his hands clasped behind his back as he floated gently beside her.

“Hello, Richard,” she greeted, her voice husky and raw from her tears. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought this place was too upsetting for you.”

“Ah, yes, well. I have been attempting all manner of bravery, and I have been coming here every now and then to ponder my unfortunate fate. I suppose you could say that you inspired it in me, dear girl,” he said, floating a little closer and making a slight bow as he studied her face more closely. His transparent features dropped in dismay. “My goodness, you appear to be in some distress. What happened? May I be of any assistance?”

The well of tears had clearly not run dry, and fresh ones began to fall onto her cheeks at the simple kindness of a ghost, her shoulders shaking as she clamped her hand over her mouth to hold back her sobbing. Almost choking through the tightness in her throat, she managed to fight off the tears, wiping them away with a shaking hand. Poor Richard looked utterly lost, his hands unclasping from behind his back and wafting uselessly around her, his eyes an echo of pained frustration.

“If only I could offer you an embrace, my dear, but alas, I am rather useless for such warm and comforting gestures,” he sighed. “What terrible thing has caused you to be so distressed? Perhaps if you talk to me, I can lend a sympathetic ear. I can not promise that any advice I should offer would be helpful, though.”

Looking at his concerned face, MC took a steadying breath. “You are kind, Richard, but I will be alright in a moment. I just managed to get myself caught up in a predicament with someone.”

“Oh, I see. Matters of the heart, I assume?” He winced as she reluctantly nodded. “Hmm, yes. Those can be tricky.”

“He is unbelievably stubborn and reckless. He tends to walk a darker path, and trouble is always not far behind him, and yet I find myself stupidly drawn to him,” she said, a frown darkening her brow as her tongue seemed to loosen. “He stole my heart so young, but I had to go away for a while, and now that I am faced with him again I’m not sure if I know him anymore.”

“Absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder?”

She gave him a wry look. “I’m afraid it’s rather complicated.”

“I see,” he said, his face thoughtful. “How complicated, exactly?”

Richard had an innocent look about him. His features remained those of the boy who had lost his head whilst adventuring into places he really shouldn’t have been. In the few conversations she had shared with the ghost, she deemed him quite sensitive and youthful despite many years roaming in spirit form. It didn’t feel right to tell him all of her woes, especially the part about her serving time in Azkaban for murder. She feared the judgement she might find on his boyishly handsome face. Perhaps sticking to the confusing conflict in her heart would be enough.

“I wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for someone else,” she said, her voice wobbling slightly. “This man is warm and kind. He represents safety and stability. He snuck up on me a bit, and now I feel rather guilty about it all, despite discovering that my childhood sweetheart has seemingly replaced me with another as well. For two people supposed to be madly in love, we seem to have failed at it quite terribly.”

Drained and exhausted, MC found a large tree root to sit on, rubbing her tear stained face with her hands as Richard floated before her in a manner much like pacing.

“So, you fell in love with a scoundrel who dabbles in dark magic,” he said, tilting his head as he pondered this. He nodded and his face took on a look of resignation. “I can understand the allure of such traits. I, too, loved a devilish creature, and suffered the torment.”

“The thing is, underneath his tendency to stray into trouble, there is someone worth loving. It’s a side not many people get to see, and I found it,” she said, that deep ache flaring within and making her sigh. “I’m scared he has lost that part of himself, though.”

“But, what of this new gentleman you speak of? Do you think you love him, too?”

MC blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s a different kind of love,” she hesitated, her eyes growing fond as she thought of Leander. “You cannot compare the two, only in that they both mean something to me. I’m not sure that even makes sense.”

“You would be surprised how much it makes sense to me,” he said softly. He pursed his lips and gazed thoughtfully off into the trees with a small sigh. “It is said that if you truly love a person, you could never fall in love with another, but it’s interesting how you describe it as a different kind of love. That throws a whole new light on the situation. They do sound like opposites of one another, so I suppose it all rather depends on what you want, my dear.”

“I don’t know what I want, Richard,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “It’s all so confusing.”

“Why did you seek closeness with this other gentleman?” He asked.

“I was…lonely,” she admitted, heat flooding her cheeks. “I was in a very bad place, and he helped me. He saved my life.”

Richard hummed and tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his chin, a parody of movement really, because his fingers merely drifted through his ethereal form. “This rogue of yours, what is it that makes you love him?”

MC thought about Sebastian, his devilish eyes floating through her thoughts, along with his dangerous smirk and cocky charm. Being so close to him again had reignited the old spark of excitement, despite the bickering and emotional uproar that came along with it. She sighed and shook her head.

“He is dangerous and exciting,” she admitted. “There is always an adventure to be had when you’re with him, but with that also comes the drama and the clashing of wills. He doesn’t do half measures, he is all in. It’s exhilarating and exhausting all at once. He’s trouble, for sure.”

“Adventure can certainly lead to trouble,” he nodded. He put a hand to his neck and grimaced. “Unfortunately, I know about that all too well.”

“Do you have any regrets, Richard?” She asked, thinking about Sebastian’s mention of going back in time and changing things. “If you could have your time again, would you make different choices?”

“I’ve had plenty of time to ponder that very question,” he said. “And, no, I don’t think I would change very much. Perhaps I would take a companion along with me, or at the very least, duck upon entering the caves. I might get to keep my head that way.”

“You may have lost your head, but I’m glad you still have a sense of humour, Richard,” she said, a smile curving her lips. “A companion does make a difference when adventuring. He may be a rogue, but I know that my childhood love would always have my back in a fight. He is very brave, and fearsome when challenged.”

“It makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?” He said, drifting closer and looking down at her with a kind smile. “He makes you feel alive, despite all the danger.”

“I’m not sure I am the same girl I once was,” she said, her face darkening with cold memories. “I’m not sure how brave I can be anymore, or if I fit into his world like I used to. I was away for a long time.”

“Maybe you don’t need to decide right away. Give yourself some time to adjust to this new version of yourself. After being away for so long, you may see the world differently, but I bet you are as brave and fierce as you were before. Perhaps even more so, you just haven’t realised it yet. You just need time to let yourself breathe and find your feet.”

“You are wiser than you give yourself credit for, Mr Jackdaw,” she said, a small smile curving her lips.

He seemed to rather like that comment, his chest puffing out rather proudly and a smile appearing on his ethereal face. “When you have forever to ponder and discover, it’s surprising what you can pick up along the way.”

“Thank you for listening,” she said, getting to her feet.

“Trust what you feel in here,” he said, reaching out to point towards her chest, a shiver travelling over her skin as his finger disappeared through her sternum. He pulled his hand back rather quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. If he had skin, she fancied he might have blushed. “Oh my, do forgive me, MC. That was…rather rude of me.”

She chuckled, and wished she could hug him to say thank you. The weight on her shoulders did feel somewhat lighter, and she knew what he was trying to say. It was rather similar to the advice Ominis had given her. She could choose her own path, and she had to give herself time to find the one that felt right. “Not to worry, Richard. You have been most kind, and I appreciate your time.”

“Time is something I have at my disposal, my dear. You are most welcome. What will you do now? What new adventure awaits?” He asked wistfully, clasping his hands behind his back again.

“I shall return to London,” she said with a nod. “It’s time to take the next step forwards.”

“Ah yes, our glorious capital,” Richard sighed, drifting off slightly. “I do miss trips into the city. Mind you take care now, my dear. Perhaps you can come and visit again sometime. You can tell me about your adventures. I do love an adventure.”

He floated aimlessly across the clearing, his head bowed and his hands clasped at his back, a lost soul destined to haunt this Highland valley because he dared to take a risk and love with all his heart.

Could that be in her fate someday? Would she choose a path that led to her downfall? She shivered and rubbed her arms.

“Goodbye, Mr Jackdaw,” she called.

Richard gave her a little wave before fading through the trees, roaming at will. He had given her plenty to think about, and he was right. She didn’t need to decide right now, but she did have a job to do. She had meant what she had said to Sebastian. There was no way she would mess up this chance at freedom. She would not be going back into that cell.

The fear of letting anyone get too close blended with the fear of being alone. There was a war going on behind her ribs, and as much as she needed to protect herself, she didn’t want to hurt anyone else either. Least of all, Leander. He didn’t deserve that.

She wouldn’t run. It wasn’t really her style.

Dipping her hand into the pocket of her trousers, she pulled out the piece of enchanted parchment that had one ragged edge. It was her link to Leander, and she knew he would be worrying about her after just disappearing like that. Unfolding it and tapping it with the tip of her wand, she saw neatly scribed words appear, and a small smile curved her lips.

I trust you are safe. I shall be in London all day. I know you can do this.

Lee

Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to gaze around at the gloom of the forest, still feeling separate and disjointed from the rest of the world, but ready to get back up and face things again. Sitting back on the tree root, she pulled out her quill and wrote a reply on the now blank parchment.

I am safe. On my way to you. Put the kettle on, I’m parched.

Apparating out to an old Floo point at the edge of the forest that she remembered from her days at Hogwarts, MC took one last look around at the beauty of Scotland before stepping towards the green glow of the travel network. It was time to go back to the crowded city.

“Diagon Alley,” she said clearly, feeling the pull of being transported miles across the country and landing effortlessly at the Floo on the bustling street. Moving into a quieter corner, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about the broken expression on Sebastian’s face as she had left him. There would be time to revisit all of that drama later. Instead, she pictured the comfort of Leander’s home and vanished from Diagon Alley in a swirl of black.

Leander

He was at his desk when MC’s reply came through, their parchment placed where he could see it whilst he completed his statement about Odessa’s death. It hadn’t been easy putting the words to paper, finalising in ink her betrayal to the Auror Office, his gaze drifting to her empty desk that had already been cleared of her personal belongings. Taking out his own Auror badge, he had tried to imagine what it would be like for Odessa’s family to hear of her fall from grace, his fingers smoothing over the polished metal of his badge as he pondered his own moral conduct.

Breaking the rules for MC didn’t exactly stack proudly on his list of achievements, and his parents would be outraged if they knew the risks he had taken after working so hard to earn his badge. Swapping the truth serum had been crazy and foolish, but he couldn’t help but feel like he had served justice by saving her from death. Whatever truths it pulled from her mouth would have killed her, and the sneaking suspicion that she was, in fact, innocent of her charge of murdering Solomon Sallow still lingered. MC had been so fearful of what she might say in that interrogation room, and the more he thought about it, the more convinced Leander became that it had been Sebastian who had killed his uncle, and not her.

In helping her, he was doing his job, protecting a citizen of the Wizarding World, and seeking the truth. Taking her to his bed was a whole other matter entirely, and one he couldn’t regret, not for one moment. Even if it did need to remain their secret.

When her reply had appeared on his half of the parchment, he had snatched it up, her words making a smile form on his lips. Finishing up his paperwork, he abandoned his desk, sending off his statement before hurrying home to put the kettle on.

There was an edge of anxiousness upon entering his flat, his eyes glancing around the main room and noting the opened potions case on the table, MC’s discarded cloak slipping from the back of a kitchen chair. Putting his wand away, Leander checked the empty potion bottles to see if any were for healing or pain, but it seemed she had only taken her usual restoring ones. The stove was lit, and the kettle was hot, two tea cups set on the side ready, and the sound of movement came from the bedroom.

Calling her name so as not to startle her, Leander lingered in the doorway, his gaze moving over the trail of discarded clothing before arriving at the privacy screen.

“I’m in here,” she called, the sound of water splashing, suggesting she was bathing.

Despite long nights sharing a bed, Leander felt the blush warming his cheeks when he realised she was naked behind the screen, his teeth catching at his full lower lip as he fiddled nervously with his tie. Desperate to see her and ensure she was alright, he hesitated, his awkward shyness keeping his feet rooted to the spot.

“Sorry…I’ll er…I will give you a moment,” he said, swallowing hard. She might not want him to get too close after spending the night with Sallow, unbidden thoughts intruding into his head and making his stomach twist with envy. “I just wanted to check that you’re okay.”

He turned, one hand on the door ready to pull it closed behind him, when her head appeared around the side of the screen. He paused, his eyes devouring the bare, delicate slope of her neck and shoulder, her hair pinned up off her neck. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she smirked, her skin damp and glistening as she held up her finger.

“Wait there,” she said, tugging a drying sheet free from where it was thrown over the privacy screen and wrapping it around herself. Stepping out towards him, he couldn’t help sweeping his gaze over her, checking she was alright. “How are things this morning? Is Harrington pissed at me?”

He huffed air through his lips. “Harrington is always pissed at someone. He has put Sallow at the top of his Wanted list next to Rookwood for the murder of an Auror.”

She frowned. “McKinnon was a snitch,” she said, her eyes dark. “She was in deep with Rookwood it would seem, telling him details about me. If you dabble in darkness and danger, you have to be prepared for what it brings down upon you. I can’t believe she faced Sebastian without her wand at the ready. She was a fool.”

“She needed to face the consequences of her actions, MC, not die,” he said.

She stiffened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You mean put her into Azkaban,” she said quietly. “One could argue that’s a consequence worse than death.”

“So murder is the answer?” He asked, his expression pained. He shook his head sadly. “You can’t just go around killing people to solve problems, MC. Dead, Odessa can’t answer for her crimes. We can’t question her and find out more information.”

“Silencing her is exactly what Sebastian needed to do,” MC said, holding the drying sheet more firmly around herself. Her face had turned hard and cold, her eyes shutting off any of that earlier sparkle as she defended Sallow's actions yet again. “She was going to blow my cover, Leander. She had already told them restricted information about me. Did you know they tried to break me out of Azkaban?”

His eyes widened, remembering Harrington’s concern that something like that was planned. “They actually tried?”

“The disguise McKinnon used, I recognised it,” she said, hunching her shoulders, a grimace on her face. “She came to my cell door and stared at me. She said someone wanted me, and I thought I was imagining it at the time, but it was her. She was creating the memory so she could give it to Rookwood. They came for me, but I was already gone.”

Leander shuddered, the horror that Azkaban had been breached made a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. The thought of MC being snatched from her cell under his watch made him feel ill, and he pressed a hand to his face, turning to pace the floor as his mind raced. “Fuck, I need to warn the office,” he muttered. “What if they try and break out someone like Harlow? He is crazy.”

“I think it was just me Rookwood wanted,” she said, her voice low and tight. “It seems he wants to collect me like some rare artefact. I suppose that will make infiltrating his gang easy for me.”

Her cold humour didn’t hide the tension in her voice, and he turned back to her, noting the tight way she held onto herself, the way she was almost curling inwards as though trying to disappear.

“I won’t let him collect you,” he said firmly, reaching for her. He gently took hold of her shoulders, his thumbs grazing against her damp skin. Fear tightened his stomach. “Did Sallow try to take you to him?”

She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. “No,” she whispered. “We were alone.”

Her pale skin was unmarked from what he could see of it, no signs of harm, and no signs of passion. But that didn’t mean Sallow hadn’t touched her. He didn’t like the way her gaze lingered over his shoulder, distant and guarded as though she was avoiding him. They hadn’t talked about their intimate situation, and they certainly hadn’t made any promises to one another, but he was attached to her all the same. His envy was bitter. It made his fingers grip her a little tighter. “Did he…did you…”

He couldn’t finish the question, his throat closing as he shook his head. Her answer might just be enough to sever whatever bond they had found together, and even though he knew it had been a fool’s dream to begin with, he couldn’t believe that he meant nothing to her. There had been glimpses of something warmer in her eyes, and her touches had been lingering for longer.

He couldn’t bring himself to form words that would shred all of that. He didn’t want to know what had happened with her and Sallow during the night, despite the torment such thoughts could provoke. Letting her go, he turned for the door. “I’ll let you finish getting dressed,” he said tightly. “I’ll make some tea.”

He couldn’t resist one more glance her way. Her face was pale and haunted, her fingers gripping the sheet to her breasts, but her spine was straight and determined. She remained silent, her eyes guarded. The feeling of separation was already beginning to seep into him. She would drift out of his reach and leave aching emptiness in her place.

Keeping his hands busy, he made the tea and put the tin of biscuits on the table, his eyes constantly drawn to the bedroom door. When MC finally appeared, she was dressed in black clothing fit for travel, her hair pinned back from her pale face. She looked drawn but determined as she came to the table and took a seat.

“You look like you’re ready for a match in Crossed Wands,” he said, attempting a smile.

“Only this time the fight has higher stakes,” she said, wrapping her fingers around her tea cup as he poured from the pot. “I’m going to approach the Ashwinders today, Lee. Sebastian can be my ticket in. I know where to find him. It’s time we got started.”

This had been the plan all along, and yet he felt the anxiety tighten behind his ribs, wanting to scoop her up and run away with her. The matter of her birth family still weighed over him, and the consequences that might come into play should the truth come out. He nodded in agreement at her decision to leave and sat adjacent to her with his own tea. “Do you have a plan?”

She shrugged. “I need to scope out what’s happening with the Ashwinders and talk to Sebastian. I need to see if I can trust him. He told me those things about McKinnon, so I’m hoping he can tell me more that I can pass on to you.”

“Keep in touch through the parchment. You’re also welcome to come here whenever you like,” he reminded her. “All I ask is that you don’t tell anyone else.”

She met his eyes this time, her hand sliding tentatively across the table top towards his. “I wouldn’t bring danger to your door, Lee,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “You know I can’t give you what you really want, but I do care about you, more than I should.”

Her eyes dipped down to their hands, her fingertips ghosting over his skin and making goosebumps spread up his arm. She was warning him not to get attached, but it was too late for that. He studied the shape of her face, the colour of her eyes, committing how she looked in the light of his home to memory in case she never returned. For the first time, he found himself looking for the similarities and features that might link her to the bloodline she came from.

Taking hold of her hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Before you leave, there is something I need to show you,” he said, his heart thumping harder behind his ribs as he used his wand to summon the file from its hidden place in his desk across the room. It landed gently on the table top in front of her.

“Andrew Larson found a file in the Ministry archives whilst tracing bloodlines of ancient magic. The file contained records of those who would be monitored by the Ministry for any signs of ancient magic emerging. It seems they assume it runs in bloodlines. Surprisingly, these files have not been swallowed up by the Department of Mysteries, and he was able to make a copy for me to show you. Your birth is one of those recorded, MC.”

She had been reaching for the file as he spoke, but paused and stared at it, her fingers beginning to tremble as she turned wide eyes on him. “My birth record?” She swallowed, eyeing the file with apprehension. “You mean, the Ministry has been watching me my whole life?”

He nodded, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze. “It would seem so. I can’t stress enough how restricted this information is, MC. Andrew and I had to smuggle this out of the Ministry. But, you need to see it. Just so you know, whatever you decide to do, I’m here to help if you need it. I’m on your side, MC. Remember that.”

“Bloody hell, Lee,” she said, her fingers gripping his hand back. “Do I even want to see what’s inside here?”

“Oh, you’ll want to see it,” he assured her. “I doubt you would believe me if I told you. I had to read it more than once to believe it myself.”

He saw the grit and determination light her eyes as she turned her attention back to the file. The subtle tightening of her jaw and the way she held herself as she took hold of the corner and opened the cover, proving that she was a lot tougher than she looked.

He wished things could have been simpler. He was just a normal Gryffindor, and he always doubted the Sorting Hat for placing him in that house. All his school life, he had tried to prove to everyone that he deserved that red and gold robe, that he was worthy. It was just his luck that he should fall for a girl in a rival house, and not just any rival, but a Slytherin witch born to be the most powerful, the most dangerous.

Leander held his breath, his heart beating double time as her eyes scanned the page, darting from side to side as whatever colour she had left in her skin drained away in her shock. He hadn’t been sure what her reaction would be to the revelation of who her family were, maybe he thought she would cry, or even throw the file back in his face and declare it a lie. She did none of those things, though.

Slowly, her lips began to curve into a slight smile, and when her gaze lifted to him, her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she didn’t look sad. Not at all. In fact, she looked almost happy.

“My mother…she…she’s alive,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. Her hand squeezed his so hard, it turned his skin white. “I always believed she was dead, but she is alive. I actually have a family.”

He nodded, slightly baffled at her optimism. “Did you see this part?” He prompted, gesturing towards the other parchment in the file. “It’s the record of your arrival at the children’s home in London.”

Her eyes dipped back down to the file, and he felt her stiffen as she saw the name of the person who had signed her over to strangers. She had been two years old when she had been signed in, the notes suggesting that she had been handed to the Aurors as an abandoned child, possibly orphaned. There were no death records for her mother, and given the family, it was highly suspicious.

“How can that be? I don’t understand…” She looked at him, her face so pale, the dark look in her eyes making him reach for her. “Why would Solomon Sallow sign me into an orphanage if my mother is alive?”

“I don’t know,” Leander said, shaking his head and wishing that he did. “Perhaps we can find out. We can do more digging. Andrew said he would keep searching.”

Tears flooded her eyes, and one escaped, rolling down her cheek as she stared down at the file. “Solomon knew who I was,” she croaked, licking her lips as another tear fell. “He knew.”

“I’m sorry, MC,” he whispered, holding her close and kissing her head. She clutched onto him as though fearing she might fall, her face so tight and haunted.

“Maybe that’s why he tried to kill me,” she said, her voice hushed, her eyes glassy as she stared at the form. “Oh Merlin, Lee. What if Sebastian knows as well? Maybe that's why he…”

Her words cut off abruptly, a violent shudder shaking her frame as she opened up her left palm to stare down at her blood scar. All Leander could do was hold her as she crumpled in his lap.

To be continued...

Tagging: @eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @evaslytherpuff @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #leander prewett x mc #leander prewett #blood bound #blueraineshadows

45 notes · View notes