#because it's MC's you know?

[misc-obeyme]

Kumusta ka na, CC? Well- Hi! It's me again ;v;

I LOVE that idea of them knowing multiple languages, especially if it's something kind of niche like Tagalog or Filipino ;v;

Although I like to imagine that when they speak the language, it's like how they teach you in a school setting: aka the Formal language. Which is not how the native speakers usually use. So I'd like to propose another scenario:

"Oh, what do you want to tell me?"

"Promise me you won't judge, MC?"

"Promise!!"

[sigh] "Sa bawat ngiti mo, para akong sinasalubong ng umaga sa gitna ng karimlan."

"I.."

"What? Is it something I said?"

"Grabe ka naman, Satan.." [small tear]

"Wait- MC I—"

And the opposite where they think they finally understand the language enough until MC pulls out every learner's worst nightmare: slang and/or metaphors.

"Huy! Ang lakas ng dating mo sa akin!"

"...huh?? 😀"

Also, can I be known as the "🎹" anon? If it's not much ;v; I hope to know your thoughts on this yet another ramble ;"))

And again, stay safe and healthy!! Whenever and wherever you are :DD

Welcome back! And yes, of course you can be 🎹 anon! I will add it to the list!

And yes, I'm pretty in love with the languages headcanon... I kind of think of Satan as having taken the time to study a ton of languages from the human world, especially so he could read books in their original languages. So I actually agree with you 100% about his use of the languages being very formal! Since I tend to think of him as mostly learning through self study and books.

For the rest of the brothers, I like to think that some of them learned different languages due to actually living in different places in the human world. The language changes depending on my mood lol.

I also think of it as Satan in OG, so he's been around for a long time and has had plenty of time to study all the different languages. So I like to think he knows quite a few.

I kinda think Lucifer might also have studied a decent amount of languages. For some reason that just feels like something he might do.

Anyway, I had to use some Google translate and I have to say, that first one sounds like poetry. Then the second one I was like... what does this mean? So I think that's exactly accurate.

I love the idea of Satan being confused by the slang/metaphors, too. I would think he would take that opportunity to ask you what it all means. He would want you to teach him those nuances!

In fact, I think all of the brothers would want to learn MC's native language...

[zephyrchama]

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

[theminecraftbee]

you know the excellent quadruple life fan comic has me thinking about double life again. and MAN. thinking about the soul bonds mechanically. like, before I get into my meta-analysis it’s worth noting that non-diagetically the soulbond mechanic being based on how many hearts someone has is basically the only way I can think to do it in minecraft that’s sensible, but diagetically…

so do you ever think about how the marker of what made people soulmates in double life was pain?

like, soulmates share injuries/pain! that’s the whole premise! like, to the point that day one people were making up elaborate ways to hurt themselves so they could test for their soulmates! you met your (very romantic-coded) partner and confirmed they were the person you were looking for by hitting each other, generally!

being a soulmate in the double life universe isn’t about being compatible, it’s about literally sharing pain, and it’s just… I think about how for some pairs, they share the burden between each other, and it brings them closer. for some pairs, though, the only way they know how to communicate is by hurting one another. and the thing is, this isn’t just a literal thing. like, mechanically, the thing soulmates do is share pain and communicate with pain, but metaphorically, can you say desert duo doesn’t have trouble communicating because half of how they know how to exist is either sharing in pain or causing it for each other? can you say that ranchers’ strength wasn’t a pair of people who understood each other’s pain and desperation to be better than they’ve been before? can you say that divorce quartet isn’t, well—

so pearl wins after scott hurts them one last time don’t you ever think about that,

[cosmicstarlatte]

[Lucifer opens the door to see MC in a cage fight with a lower demon and a crowd cheering]

Mammon: Left hook, look out! I got money on ya!

MC: (Tackles and knocks the demon out)

Diavolo (announcing): Ohhh and they're out!!! The winner is MC!!!

[Mixed cheers and boo's]

All the brothers except Mammon: Oh shit Lucifer is back home early-

Lucifer:

Lucifer: Mammon?

The brothers: (nodding)

Lucifer:

Lucifer: Put me and Mammon in there next

---

edit: an awesome comic of this was done by the wonderful bahbahsven, check it out c':

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Michael so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's an high-ranking angel from the Celestial Realm, more specifically a Seraph. (nb: 18-2 and nb card: Luke - "I can do it too!")

➤ His love for sweets is the reason Luke took interest in baking. (swd: 5-12 and 23-5)

➤ He and Lucifer were equals in the Celestial Realm and no other angel shared the same status as them. Simeon referred to them back then as "the two great leaders of the Celestial Realm's legion of angels." (swd: 23-7) But currently Michael carries that position alone. (swd: 23-5)

➤ He was supposed to meet MC when they visited the Celestial Realm with Solomon but couldn't because a secret spring suddenly started drying and Michael had to go there to investigate the situation. (swd: 23-7)

➤ He used to be Mammon's mentor and tried his best to train the white-haired brother while in charge of him but wasn't able to figure out how to handle him and eventually went to Lucifer asking for help. And since Lucifer was somehow able to get Mammon to listen to him, he ended up taking over Michael's role and became his mentor instead. (swd: 27-19)

➤ He was originally the one in possession of the Ring of Wisdom but gave the ring to Solomon at a time when the human was feeling "lost" and Michael wanted to help him. (swd: 29-5)

➤ During MC's 2° stay in the Devildom when Diavolo was keeping secret from everyone that their powers had become a threat to the three realms, Michael sent the prince a message through Simeon, warning him that if whatever he was keeping a secret affected the Celestial Realm, angels wouldn't hesitate to intervene. (swd: 31-16 Hard Mode)

➤ He's the one who found the Ring of Light, counterpart to the Ring of Wisdom that Lucifer had lost during the Great Celestial War (swd: 37-9), and quickly noticed it was missing when Simeon stole it to give it to MC ( since it was the only other way to control their powers ), shooting the other angel a text stating that they needed to have a "good, long talk" and that he wanted to see him as soon as possible. (swd chat: M, "untitled")

➤ When MC was given the Ring of Light and fell unconscious because of it, Michael appeared to speak with them. And during their talk, the seraph told MC that he had pictured them to be truly wicked person due to being so well-liked by the brothers, but that he had been proven wrong after meeting them. (swd: 38-17)

➤ In that same conversation, Michael confessed to being jealous of MC. He told them: "I must admit that I'm jealous of you, MC. I wish I could have been more like you. Because I loved Lucifer and his brothers, and I lost them. Perhaps things could have been different..." (swd: 38-17)

➤ When asked, Satan explained to MC that Michael was the opposite of Lucifer appearance-wise but that they felt like twins at the same time. And when Mammon brought up Michael's adoration for Lucifer, Satan chimed in saying that in his opinion the reason Michael liked Lucifer so much was because he was the embodiment of everything he wanted to be but couldn't. (swd: 43-19)

➤ He would be the one having meetings with Diavolo when the prince took over the kingdom if he hadn't thrown the responsibility onto Lucifer in the last minute, making Michael in a way the stepping stone that led Lucifer to question his faith and start having doubts about God and the Celestial Realm in general. (swd: 44-15)

➤ When MC ended up in the past Celestial Realm through a dream Solomon sent them to accidentally by feeding them his food, Michael was the one to bring them back home. The angel told MC that they and the brothers would likely forget what happened in the dream but that it would still have an effect on all of them and he would keep an eye on them to make sure that said effect didn't have negative consequences in the future. (swd: 44-18)

➤ Luke told MC that he often found Michael in the hall where the brothers' portraits used to hang staring at the empty space, lost in thought. According to the small angel, Michael to this day still deeply misses the brothers and has regrets about the war. (swd: 49-15)

➤ He was the one to cast out the brothers from the Celestial Realm and send them to the Devildom. (swd: 50-7)

➤ According to Mammon, Michael and Simeon must've pulled some strings behind the scenes to get Luke to participate in the exchange program and be able to visit the Human World with Simeon because, with his low ranking, he'd never be the one chosen for those sorts of things and the Avatar of Greed is convinced that they're doing this because they want Luke to experience life outside the Celestial Realm, see that there's more out there than heaven, and stop thinking that angels are perfect beings who can do no wrong. (swd: 50-10)

➤ He's knowledgeable on constellations and likes them so much he had Raphael rebuilt a whole room so Human World constellations could be seen even from the Celestial Realm. (swd: 52-7) He also taught Mammon about them when he was still in his care, and later on taught Luke as well. (swd: 50-12)

➤ It was actually he who went into the Devildom and told the brothers that they had been forgiven by God and had to choose between staying in the demonic kingdom ( and making an enemy out of heaven ) or coming back to the Celestial Realm and leaving Satan behind. And in a conversation with Raphael, Michael said the reason for his disguise was that he was worried about what could happen if he showed up as himself. But Raphael quickly rebutted that by saying that the true reason Michael didn't go as himself was because he wouldn't know how to act around the brothers. (nb: 20-14 Hard Mode)

➤ Still disguised as Raphael before going back to the Celestial Realm, Michael told Luke that he wasn't surprised that the brothers didn't accept his offer to go back to heaven and actually knew that would be the outcome of it. He was also surprised not too long after when Luke, not knowing it wasn't Raphael who he was talking to, pointed out that Michael seemed sad and lonely whenever he was staring at the wall where the brothers' portraits used to be. Michael's exact response to the younger angel's words was: "...I didn't realize that's what people thought.” (nb: 20-A)

➤ When asked by Raphael if he planned to attend RAD in the future, Michael avoided giving an direct answer and left. (nb: 20-14 Hard Mode)

[miabrown007]

Félix: kidnapping is a love language Kagami: you have no social skills, idiot

*two weeks later*

Félix: okay, so when Marinette's at her most vulnerable, I'll gaslight her into thinking I'm her boyfriend, so she'll follow me into an abandoned building where we can put her in an altered mental state and present to her my family's life story in the imaginable most cryptic play of theater she has ever seen, which will reveal to her our horrible secret and the fact that her abusive father-in-law is also her arch-nemesis Kagami: you're so big brained, bae 🥰

[yukiire]

Rabbit Hole (Dance MMD Reference)

was obsessed with this song for a while and really wanted to draw the dance with om! boys!! i can finally stop looping it every single day-

[beanghostprincess]

Sakura is such a refreshing character when it comes to Shonen protagonists. The one insecurity most main characters share is always feeling weak and like they cannot protect the ones around them. The typical Shonen MC goal is always to get stronger, whether it is because of a dream or the people they love. But Wind Breaker goes even further with this and instead of making Sakura's character arc only about becoming stronger, it acknowledges that becoming stronger also means trusting others and letting yourself be loved because you can't do everything on your own. His strength relies on the people he loves because they lift him up. It has been repeated over and over again by various characters, but it's Sakura the one making the effort to apologize and trying to trust them more and jump off the rope that kept him from walking a safer, more loving path with his friends.

I'm not saying this plot is entirely new because it's classical Shonen behavior (and I wouldn't have it any other way) but Sakura's insecurities come directly from a place of interiorized rejection and genuine hatred to himself, because of past experiences. Again, it's not new, but the way the manga narrates his character development just feels so human and like teenage growth that it's impossible for me not to adore it.

Shonens, in my opinion, usually lack that message that ties the characters to real life. You can relate all you want to these characters but at the end of the day, most of their stories are exaggerations of real insecurities and you can just relate to the mere translation/interpretation to real life. But Wind Breaker does it in a way that feels entirely human and realistic.

So, to summarize, I am a big fan because the manga about fist fighting and street gangs ends up having an unexpected "get loved idiot" message.

[cronssic]

I need to do big ensemble pieces more often

[myokk]

soft🥹

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[myeagleexpert]

He wants to love you forever but….

"That unlike a demon whose life doesn´t end and apparence doesn´t change...humans only live for the moment.

And changes can happen just quickly and easily as short time passes.

Like now, the words you sy can change in a instant.

That´s just how human hearts are."

[slimepuparibaba]

LnDS Headcanons: Rafayel | Reasons

Hey, so um. Slight angst? Anyway!

Whoa. I'm making headcanons for the fish? That's insane

Okay, but fr, I do wanna make a headcanon for him and it's this:

He is perfectly and entirely capable of taking care of himself.

No, genuinely, he is. Man has the money, he can take (somewhat) good care of himself... I mean, he's lived alone for so long. Sure, his place is a mess, but it's organized chaos for him.

But the reason he relies on you so much and acts all whiny and helpless is simple:

He feels like he needs a REASON for you to stay.

Look, you've already left him behind once. Maybe this time, there's just a fear instilled in him.

Plus, he knows you're on the Ever Group's list. He knows you're in severe danger. He's kept a watchful eye on you for so, so long.

He's seen you in university and kept you at an arms distance for YOUR safety. He came back to Linkon solely for you. He was in Italy before this happened, off doing his own thing. You never left his thoughts. He is bonded to you.

So moment Rafayel has you back, he wants to make sure you STAY back.

He will whine, he will come off as needy, he will beg for your attention. Let him. He doesn't want to lose you again.

It's his roundabout way of protecting you from something you don't even know is a major threat. If he keeps you by his side in this way, you will be safe. You won't leave and he can make sure that you and him can live the happily ever after he's long dreamed of.

Yes, you can take care of yourself. You're not a damsel, and neither is he.

But he knows you're prone to taking on way too much.

He wants to at least let you rely on him. And if you knew what was at stake?

Who's to say you wouldn't immediately throw yourself into tragedy?

He doesn't want to lose you.

He really... REALLY doesn't want to lose you.

He will be annoying to make sure that in some sense, you think of him. So that he leaves a lasting impression so you don't forget.

He will call you over for no reason to make sure that in some capacity, you are alive and the people that he KNOWS are trying to find you, that are trying to GET you, can't reach you, even if just for a day.

He'll make you run around doing stuff for him, he'll get on your nerves, you'll bicker with him over nothing, he'll act childish. That's fine.

As long as you are still with him.

He cannot afford to lose you. He just can't.

He will let you play the role of his bodyguard, so long as he can guard you in his own way.

Both of you protect each other. He doesn't mind if you don't know what he's doing.

He just needs you alive.

He needs to make sure the person he loves is alive, and to do that, he needs to make sure he has every excuse to be by your side as much as he can.

If only you knew what was at stake.

If only you knew the people that were after you, the eyes following you, watching you.

You don't know.

But he does. He's danced with devils, he knows.

And he refuses to let something he loves be taken away from him. Again.

Rafayel loves you dearly. Never, ever forget that, okay?

If you don't love yourself, just know this man loves you so deeply and is doing things for you that you may not even notice. He just wants to make sure you're alive and well.

He doesn't want to disrupt what you have.

That's how much he cherishes you.

You are his everything. No one could ever compare.

[writing-intheundercroft]

Bite The Hand

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 7,717

Rating: E (Smut, MDNI - M!Masturbation, M!Receiving Oral Sex)

Summary: Sebastian Sallow bites the hand that feeds him. Or, the years spent between your break up and the events of The Night Shift.

A/N: Auror!Seb took a vacation in my mind, and I never meant to let him relax this long. So, here's an excruciating prologue I've been writing over the past few months for him. If you have not yet, I highly recommend reading The Night Shift before this, which was one of my first one shots!

Sebastian sits on the old stone fence lining the exterior of Feldcroft; he swirls the beer bottle in his hand before lifting it to his lips, taking a thick swig.  His eyes are red, and he’s far too drunk, but it doesn’t matter–the pictures have been taken, and no one at the party is missing him too much.  Perhaps Anne, but she’s far too busy entertaining everyone in her white dress to separate herself from her new husband’s arm.  Ominis looks positively dashing, proudly swaying with Anne in his arms.  Sebastian has known since they were twelve they’d probably end up married someday, and he’s happy to see them together.  

After delivering a proud speech to honor his sister and twirling her on the dance floor, he indulges a bit too much in the bar Garreth Weasley has put together for the event, downing bottle after bottle of the ginger’s experimental enhanced ale. Choosing to peruse the gift table over dancing in the hamlet square, Sebastian begins appraising the parcels.  He’s shaking each box, trying to guess what gifts might be inside, when his eyes land on a neatly wrapped box.  There’s a lovely velvet bow affixed to the top, and the note seems to call his name.  He tears the tag away, eyes roving over the familiar handwriting. Gripping the beer bottle in his free hand, he stumbles through the field to find some privacy. 

Sebastian holds the gift tag, the rough pad of his finger swiping over the swirly cursive. It’s stupid, he thinks, to have thought you would have come.  Anne had warned him that she was sending you an invitation despite the distance you’d put between yourself and the friend group.  Sebastian had felt sick over it for weeks–either you’d arrive at Anne and Ominis’s wedding alone and he’d have to own up to his mistakes, or worse, you’d arrive, happy with a man on your arm.  

Happy and content, the two things Sebastian is pretending to be.

Sebastian loosens his white cravat, letting it fall into the mud below him.  He is happy, he thinks.  Sebastian Sallow knows he’s an absolute fucking catch. The department of magical law enforcement’s most eligible bachelor, people have said. He has several badges, praising his heroics as an auror.  He hasn’t unintentionally left the bar alone in months, something he’s bragged about with the lads.  Girlfriends are nothing but trouble, and he’s quite vocal about how glad he is that he wasn’t trapped into marriage at a young age.  That comment usually garnered him some laughs at the bar–it was less successful at a wedding, let alone the wedding of his best friend and twin sister, who were getting married at the youthful age of twenty one. 

Sebastian pulls the tag up to his eyes, squinting at it once more.  He’s searching it for any underlying clues, a note he’s missed. 

So sorry I couldn’t be there. Sending my love.

He scowls.  Sorry my arse, he repeats in his head. That's surely a lie–you’d never been sorry a day in your relationship, let alone at the end of it.  He probably shouldn’t be as bitter about your breakup after three years, but happy events like this only reinforce the overwhelming emptiness he feels when it comes to relationships.

Perhaps one should never date their best friend, he thinks.  The love lost from your break up has tainted most of his happy memories, and his stomach only ever churns when he thinks of you.

He has no idea if you’re even still in London, or if you decided to try out a stint in America or Spain, like you always dreamt of doing when you were teenagers. Sometimes he thinks he sees you on the streets of Diagon Alley.  A wisp of your hair, someone with the same nose.  He hears your laugh sometimes in the pub, but it’s not you. It’s never really you, but the thought, the hope, it stokes a fire. A fire that tells him he would fall to his knees if he ever saw you again, kiss your feet, apologize for having yelled, for thinking that a man would ever walk away from the person he loved because he felt threatened. It was the only time he’d ever lost faith in your relationship, wavering when a pretty girl batted her eyelashes at him in the bar.  After your fight, he’d gone to Ominis’s apartment for the evening to get some space, but found your shared flat empty in the morning.

He never lets the fire grow too big.  He’s spent the last three years dampening it with cheap booze, recklessness at work, and girls that never last more than a few weeks at a time.

With glassy eyes, Sebastian looks out to the empty fields. It wasn’t like he was actually planning on proposing–the two of you were just eighteen, after all.  But sitting in the front row, watching his best friend swear unyielding love to his twin sister, Sebastian found himself overcome with emotion.  Sure, you’d been too young then, but he’d always pictured you standing next to the vicar, wearing a pretty white dress.

He tries to think of that memory, but your face is coming up blank.  Perhaps he’s too drunk, or perhaps it’s been too long.

“Fuck!” Sebastian roars, throwing the beer bottle.  

He can hear it crash in the distance as his head falls into his hands. 

Sebastian hops off the fence, wobbling on his feet.  The music gets softer and softer as he puts distance between himself and the party; he’s in no mood, and he’s bound to ruin the wedding if he stays any longer.  Without another thought, he pulls his wand out of his pocket, apparating back home.

Sebastian doesn’t hear from Ominis or Anne for a few weeks; he assumes the happy couple are enjoying their honeymoon in Lisbon.  Ominis’s pretty little owl arrives at his window one day, a scrap of parchment requesting his presence at their home.

Sebastian excitedly replies, promising to be over on his next day off.  He wonders if they’ve gotten their wedding portraits back yet, or if they got any duplicate wedding gifts that might suit his bachelor pad.  He’s been needing a new frying pan, might as well steal their old one.

Sebastian cheerfully takes a handful of floo powder, clearly enunciating Anne and Ominis’s address as he drops the dust in the fireplace.  Green flames burst around him, and he opens his eyes to see Ominis’s mahogany paneled study.  The blonde is sitting at his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“Sebastian,” Ominis has a cold look on his face.

“Morning, Om.” Sebastian grins. “Hell of a party. Wedding of the year, I’d wager.” He walks out of the fireplace, brushing soot off of his waistcoat. “How was the honeymoon?”

“It was lovely,” Ominis says nonchalantly. “Anne quite enjoyed the sun.”  he walks over to his best friend, carefully rolling up his sleeves.  Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as Ominis stows his wand in his pocket, moving his wedding ring from his left to his right.

Without another thought, Ominis pulls back, sucker punching him.

“What the fuck,” Sebastian spits, eyes watering as he rubs his jaw.

Ominis smoothly puts his wedding ring back on, crossing his arms. “That’s for ruining our wedding, you selfish dimwit.  Anne was beside herself for days because of you.”

Sebastian hears the door open; Anne, looking quite sunkissed and freckled, slips into the room. 

“Your husband just punched me!” Sebastian complains.

His twin sister shrugs, sitting on top of Ominis’s desk. “You deserved it.” she scoffs. “You invited not one, but two women to be your guest at our wedding, and then fucked off into a field to get drunk and left without saying goodbye.  Nearly thought the two would rip each other’s hair out on the dance floor when they realized your mistake.”

“I did not,” Sebastian retorts, crossing his arms.

“Anastasia and Alexandra,” Ominis sighs. “I think you owe both of them an apology, if they ever speak to you again.”

Sebastian’s face heats up as he puts the pieces together.  Well, now it made sense why Alexandra, the waitress at the Leaky Cauldron, had spilled his beer onto him and stalked off.  Even more so that Anastasia, one of the timekeepers for the auror office, had burst into tears when she saw him at work. She’d put in her two weeks notice, spitting on his shoes as she passed by with a box of her personal effects in hand.

“I think we’re going to laugh about this eventually,” Sebastian suggests. 

Ominis’s face twists with displeasure. “They tore Anne’s veil.”

“Okay, it’ll take a few years.” Sebastian sputters in response, nervously eyeing his twin sister.

Anne stands up, her hands balled up into fists at her side. “It wasn’t just my veil, Sebastian.” she seethes. “It was Mum’s veil–”

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “No,” he squeaks, utterly horrified.

Anne’s eyes were watering. “Mum’s veil,” she croaks. “Dug it out of storage, had it restored just for the wedding, and those women you invited destroyed it, fighting over you.  Meanwhile, you were out getting sloshed Merlin knows where, abandoning my wedding.”

Sebastian stares shamefully at his shoes while Anne paces back and forth, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.  His shoulders bowled over, the brunette looks up at the couple.  He hates the way they pity him, but he hates it even more when they’re mad at him.  Not roll-their-eyes mad, but truly, deeply upset.

“You need to get yourself together, Sebastian.” Ominis barks. “I’ve absolutely had it with you and this obscene behavior.  The drinking, the whoring –”

“Alright, I wouldn’t call it whoring.” Sebastian furrows his eyebrows. “That’s a bit of a stretch–”

“New women, every week.” Ominis sounds even angrier than before. “All because you’re a bloody coward, running away from your feelings.  Gods, I used to wonder why she left, and now it all makes sense–"

Sebastian doesn’t even realize that he’s holding Ominis by the tie, pushing him against the dark wooden walls.  Anne is screeching at him, hitting him at the shoulders, while Ominis raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Struck a nerve, have I?” he asks coolly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sebastian growls. “Don’t even go there.  Don’t say her name.”

“Everyone can see it, Sebastian.” Ominis shrugs. “It’s pathetic, that’s what it is.  Either make your peace with how you left things off with her and move on, or speak to her like a real man.”

Sebastian lets go, hands fumbling for his wand.  As soon as his fingers wrap around the cool, checkered marble handle, it flies out of his hand, clattering across the room.

“That’s enough from the two of you,” Anne snaps, shoving her wand back into her pocket. “You’re acting like children.”

“He started it,” Sebastian snarls.  He looks over at his best friend–Merlin, Ominis is his best friend, and he doesn’t even recognize him.  The blonde man has never been this angry at him before, not even when he killed–

Right, Sebastian swallows thickly. Best not to think about the past like that.

“Grow up, Sebastian.” Ominis digs his finger into Sebastian’s chest; he’s so angry, his jaw is quaking. “I don’t want to see you, speak to you, hear from you until you’ve grown the fuck up.” he threatens.  Ominis backs off, tugging his waistcoat down. “Anne, I’m going to take a walk around the block to cool down.”

Ominis grips his wand tightly, stalking out of the study.  The door slams heavily behind him, leaving the Sallow twins alone together. 

“Now look at what you’ve done,” Anne sighs, crossing her arms as she sits against the window.

“I’m sorry, Annie.” Sebastian chews on his lower lip. “I didn’t mean to–”

“No,” Anne scowls. “You never mean to.  You’ve somehow skated through twenty one years of life with nothing ever being your fault.”

“That’s not true,” Sebastian interjects.

“There are consequences to your actions, Sebastian.” Anne huffs. “You need to know that.”

“I do,” Sebastian pleads with her. “And I’m sorry–I’m sorry I left your wedding, I’m sorry I invited the two of them, I really didn’t even remember–”

“You’re not you , Sebastian.” Anne strains. “You haven’t been you in what feels like a very long time.”

“Not you too,” Sebastian groans. “Anne, you can’t possibly think this has to do with her.”

Anne’s eyes are teary now. “Ominis is right. You’re a shell, Sebastian. You’re going through the motions you think you should, but it’s not you. The real you wouldn’t forget about two women and just callously throw them aside. You wouldn’t leave my wedding without saying goodbye.”

Sebastian avoids eye contact with his sister, eyes glued to the floor boards. “I’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I was just too drunk.”

“You never used to drink this much,” Anne scolds. “Spending nearly every night down at the pub, all the whispers about you flirting with all sorts of women.  You’re a different person.”

“I’ve grown up, Anne.” Sebastian suggests. “A man can’t sow his oats without getting criticized now?”

“You were about to get married–”

Sebastian shuts his eyes, waving her off. “That’s silly , Anne.  I wasn’t serious about it.  We were eighteen, we’d just graduated Hogwarts.  It would’ve been stupid to get married.”

“But you wanted to,” Anne retorts. “You talked about it all the time.”

“Can we stop talking about stupid ideas I had when I was eighteen?” Sebastian growls. His cheeks are aflame, freckles burning at the continued mention of you.  Days ago, you were merely a memory, a chapter Sebastian had turned past in life.  After seeing your handwriting scrawled on a little card, thinking of you for just a fleeting moment, your memory was now infecting every waking minute of his life.  He tugs at his tie, throat growing thick at Ominis and Anne’s pokes into his personal life.

Anne gives him a pitying look. “She’s still around, you know.”

“Why would that matter to me?” Sebastian chokes out.

“Just talk to her—“

“She left!” Sebastian roars, smacking a stack of files off Ominis’s desk.  Anne looks unphased as the papers float to the ground. “I leave her for one night, and I come home the next morning to my flat, empty, couch gone. No note, no warning. We had one fight and she left me!”

“You said you wanted to cheat on her, Seb.” Anne reminds him.

“But I didn’t!” Sebastian huffs, red in the face.  The floodgates are open, words spilling from his mouth. “I wanted her to be mad, to be jealous!  I wanted her to miss me!” 

Involuntary tears prick at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks. He can’t bring himself to admit the truth–that selfishly, he’d wanted to hurt you, to push you to your limits to see how you’d react. How he never could’ve imagined you’d actually leave. That his heart had cracked into pieces after finding the flat cleared out, and the shards had turned to dust when he realized weeks later that you weren’t coming home.

“Do you still want her to miss you?” Anne asks.

Yes, Sebastian thinks. His heart would probably explode out of his body if he were to ever find out you missed him.

“No,” he spits out. “I’m over her.”

Anne gives him a distrustful look, and Sebastian has to turn away in shame.

“I think you’ll find life to be a lot easier to digest when you stop lying to yourself,” Anne shrugs, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to watch you waste your life away like this, Seb.  You miss her, and that’s okay.  You loved her.  Don’t sit here and pretend that you’re happy.”

“I’m happy,” Sebastian grunts. “I have a great life, Anne.  I’m the best junior auror on the force, I have plenty of friends.  I can go wherever I want, do whatever I want, and I don’t need to answer to anyone.  What makes you think I’m not happy?”

Anne’s face twists again, this time with a sad, pitiful look. “We’re twins, Sebastian.  I know you. I’ve known you forever.  I know things can never be as it was, but Ominis is right.  You have to make peace with the past, or talk to her.”

“It’s not about her,” Sebastian snarls again, crossing his arms.

“You got shitfaced and left my wedding after you stole the tag off her present.” Anne declares. “Tell me now how it’s not about her.”

“Whatever. I can’t talk to you when you’re acting like this.” Sebastian huffs, turning on his heels back towards the fireplace. “Send an owl when you’re feeling like yourself again.”

Anne leans against Ominis’s desk, her hands fidgeting with her skirt. “Likewise.  We can talk once you’ve figured out everything, and when you’re acting like yourself again.” she says coolly. “Otherwise, I don’t want to speak to you.”

“Ultimatums and threats, how very Gaunt of you.” Sebastian blurts out, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth.  Why would he even dare to say such a thing? 

Anne is unphased, shaking her head as she brushes dust off her skirt. “There you go again–trying to hurt someone you love, just to get a rise out of them. Seb, grow up. Don’t talk to me again until you’ve figured it out.”

Sebastian can’t bear to look at Anne, so he grabs a fistful of floo powder and disappears into the green flame.

“Another.” Sebastian demands, pushing his glass towards the new barmaid.

The woman raises her brow.  Elsie, Elise, whatever the fuck her name is.  She’s relatively new, and less obliging than the other bartenders Sebastian has come to know at the Three Broomsticks.  Although he might not have much pull anymore–the other bartenders seem to have gone cold towards their favorite regular, especially after he’d ditched their colleague Alexandra at the wedding with a duplicate guest.

“I’m afraid I’d be over-serving you, sir.” she says, polishing a tankard. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, turning the barstool around to appraise tonight’s crowd.  It’s a Saturday, but there appears to be slim pickings amongst the crowd. Nary a pretty woman in the room.  He leans his elbows back against the bar top, scanning for any viable conquests. 

And then, the bell on the door rings.

Sebastian freezes, pint in hand.  He’d always imagined how this day might go–how it would feel to see you again.  He always pictured himself being brave, too cool to care.  Merlin, he might’ve even gotten some satisfaction out of seeing you be a bit miserable. 

But you’re not.  You’re laughing.  Oh god, how could you be laughing?

He’s frozen in place, standing rather sheepishly at the bar as he watches you, giggling on the arm of some stranger.  Sebastian could care less what he looks like, rather fixating on you instead. His heart swells at the sound of your voice for the first time in years, the playful lilt to your question.

Should we sit down here, or upstairs?

Your date tells you to go upstairs, while he meanders over to the bar to get drinks. “One whiskey, on the rocks, and…some drink with gin.  Er, with lemons?”

A white lady.  Gin, orange liquor, egg whites, lemon juice , Sebastian screams in his head.  It’s embarrassing how quickly that knowledge came back to him.  The entire history of you floods into his brain, a dam he’d built over the years of your estrangement destroyed with the mere sound of your giggle. You always favored gin in your drinks, but despised when things were too sweet, too fruity.  The key to your heart was understanding your sense of taste.  Sebastian recalls the nights he’d make dinner for you, before your shifts at St. Mungo’s.  He was no chef, but you always praised his cooking.  Pretty noises coming from your mouth as you savored braised mushrooms over pasta, the way your tongue ran over your lips when he made chicken–

Why did you break up again?

Images play over and over in his mind.  You scoffing at him, your career being more important than his.  Screaming, fighting, going days without seeing each other.  His teeth sunken into the neck of someone he didn’t know. A book thrown at his head, a coffee mug missing a handle. 

Right. That again.

Sebastian snaps out of his thoughts as your date takes two drinks up the stairs.  He follows on careful feet; if he’s learned anything in his years of being an auror, it’s how to follow with stealth.  He hides beneath the creaky wooden staircase, concealed by the darkness.  Yet through the wooden steps, he can see you sitting at the table, and the way your smile falters when your date drops a fruity concoction in front of you.  He wonders if this is your first date–no, you’re far too comfortable leaning into his touch for this to be a first date.  Perhaps a third, maybe a fourth. 

“You did promise me if we made it to our fourth date that you’d tell me,” the man across from you says. Sebastian feels a bit proud for knowing you well enough, but sick at the thought of you being close to anyone.

“Tell you what?” you ask, feigning innocence as you fake a sip of your sugary drink.

“If you’ve ever been in love,” he croons. Sebastian winces, remembering just how excruciating it is to be in the early days of a relationship. At least then he’d been sixteen; he can’t imagine asking such cringey questions as a grown adult. 

You roll your eyes, leaning back into your chair. “That’s such a cheesy question,” you scoff.

Even when you’re not together, you two are on the same page.

“It says a lot about a person,” your date shrugs. “You have been in love, haven’t you?”

You roll your eyes once more, wincing as you take a sip from your beverage. “I have,” you announce, holding up a finger. “Just once.”

“And?” the man pries. “What happened?”

“What always happens.” you shrug. “You get older, and you fall out of love.”

“Indulge me,” your date asks, leaning his chin into his palm. “What was it about him?”

Sighing, you lean forward.  Sebastian wishes he could cast a disillusionment charm, get closer to see the look on your face as you condense your love story into a palatable tale for this stranger.  He wants to know if you’ll do it justice.  

“We were sixteen,” you muse. “It felt like we’d grown up together, that we could do anything.  And for a while, we could.  But then we had jobs, friends, and lives we had to explore outside of each other. Suddenly, we needed different things. We just couldn’t love each other the way we wanted to.” 

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. That’s it?  That’s all you’ll say about the great love you shared, a measly five sentences?  That you drifted apart, you grew up?  He has half a mind to march up the stairs and confront you right this moment. In fact, one foot is already ahead of the other, emerging from the darkness. 

“In the spirit of honesty, can I tell you something?” you ask. “I absolutely hate fruity drinks.”

Sebastian stops in his tracks.  You hate complaining, let alone correcting someone.  You never complained once during your tenure at Hogwarts, nor did you complain at the simplest offenses.  He and Ominis would have to practically beg you to send back food if your order came out wrong.  Imelda would roll her eyes every time you apologized for sending a beater your opponent’s way.  Hell, half the reason the two of you broke up was because you could hardly confront him, moving your belongings out of your shared apartment to avoid conflict.

Yet here you are, finally open and honest about something.  You’ve grown, he realizes. Has he?

“Excuse me,” your date clears his throat.  Sebastian is drawn out of his thoughts as the dark-haired man bumps into him at the foot of the stairs. 

“Sorry mate,” Sebastian says hurriedly, turning his back.  Hopeful that you haven’t seen him lurking quite yet, he pushes through the throngs of people in the pub, all blocking his way to the front door.

“Oi, Sallow!” the barmaid yells, and he curses under his breath, stopping in his tracks. “You forgot your tab.”

Sebastian digs through the pockets of his cloak, pulling out a few sickles to cover his drinks.  He turns toward you on the second floor, wondering if you’d heard his name. You hadn’t; you were back to chatting animatedly with the stranger, his hand resting on your forearm.

Sebastian slams the sickles down on the bar top, pulling the hood on his cloak over his head before turning on his heel. Rain pours outside, the water sliding his back as he rushes down the cobblestone street to his doorstep.  Your laugh haunts every step, mocking him all the way home.

Sebastian turns in his sleep, bedsheets tangled in his legs.  He’s not one to brag (Ominis would say otherwise if they were on speaking terms) but he’s not used to being alone in bed.  Not if he doesn’t want to be. 

He is alone tonight, his damp cloak discarded in the corner of his room where he kicked his clothes.  He lives alone, so he wasn’t quite sure why he was going through the motions of banging the cupboards, slamming his door.  The tea he’d made to sober up had gone cold, perched on the side table next to a myriad of dirty cups.  He nearly bangs his head against the wrought iron headboard, staring up at the dark ceiling.  There’s a tightness in his belly, an urge sparking his senses below.  

Fuck, he’s hard.

Sebastian grumbles to himself as his hand trails down his stomach, gripping his length. He’s sleeping in the nude—has been, ever since he got his own bachelor pad—and can’t help thinking about how much you would despise him for it.  You’d always been a stickler for pajamas, grumbling about him sitting in bed with dirty clothes.

Why is he thinking about you now, after all these years?  Sebastian grunts in displeasure as his cock twitches in his hand. He tries to focus on anything else—the blonde he’d kissed a few nights prior, or the woman with auburn hair who’d gripped his locks at the root when he’d sucked a mark into her neck.  Neither works in his quest for relief.  Begrudgingly, his thoughts fall towards you, distant memories he’s not even sure are real anymore.

They had been real, and so were you.  Sebastian paces his strokes, biting hard into his lower lip as his memories flood back. He furrows his brow as he pictures you, sidling up next to him in bed.  You’d always crawl back underneath the sheets after a long night in the ward, getting home with just an hour or two left before Sebastian would have to wake and get ready for work. He tightens his grip at the memory of you, nosing his cheek as your hand replaces his. 

“You know I hate when you go to bed without pants,” you whisper against his neck, teeth grazing his pulse.

”I do,” he murmurs, letting you take over. His hand falls back against the pillow, arms above his head as he sighs into your touch.  He swears he can feel your hands ghosting over his body, firm grip pumping his cock up and down.  He groans audibly when your thumb glides over the glistening head, a gasp caught in the back of his throat as he feels your lips pressing a tentative kiss against it.  

“Please,” Sebastian pleads. “Please.”

He’s not sure what he’s begging for, but his right hand crashes against his mouth, a pathetic whimper spilling past as he feels your mouth envelop him. Your hands brace his thighs, a curtain of hair brushing his hips as your head bobs up and down. He’s loud, louder than he’s been in years—you always brought that out of him, loving how vocal he could be. 

You hum against him; he knows you’re looking up at him, a devilish grin on your lips. Sebastian doesn’t dare to look down at you, worried you’ll disappear the moment he tries.

“Good morning,” you gasp, popping off of his cock.  Your hand replaces your mouth, the filthy sound of your spit and his come pounding alongside his heartbeat in his ears.

Sebastian can’t stop himself, his hips rolling upwards.  A garbled noise falls out of his mouth as he opens his eyes.  You’re gone—you were never here to begin with.  He fucks up into his fist with urgency, his eyes stinging as he chases his climax.  Sebastian lets out a guttural groan as he spills into his palm, a tear rolling down his cheek as he heaves, coming back down to earth.

You were never here, Sebastian reminds himself. A fucking memory, that’s all.  An end to a means, a way to get off.  That doesn’t make him feel any better as he rolls over to his night stand, picking up his wand.  He mutters a quick cleaning spell, rustling the sheets to the end of his bed as he lays, staring at the ceiling. Not real, not real, not real.   The two words comfort him, eyes fluttering back to sleep.

Your laugh replays in his mind anyways.

Sebastian rolls the vial in his hands, fingers hesitating at the stopper.  It’s standard issue for aurors to have their own personal pensieve, especially once they’re at the senior level. Sebastian has been trusted with his own pensieve, the only junior auror on the force to have one.  It’s an important tool, one he uses to peruse old memories.  They’re useful if you need to observe an old crime scene, hone in on a suspect’s face.

Fuck it, Sebastian thinks, pulling the stopper out.  The silvery memory floats down from the glass to the swirling waters, and he’s reminded of the first time he’d used a pensieve—he’d been with you.  He shudders as he lowers his face to the milky surface, falling into a memory he’s tried to forget.

It was raining that night.  He follows his past self up the stairs to the old flat he’d shared with you, stopping to take a sobering breath before pushing the door in.  He can see you sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed over a white muslin dress.  You look so angry with him—you always looked so angry in those final days of your relationship.  

“Where the hell have you been?” You snap, and both versions of himself flinch.

“Out,” his past self growls. “Why does that matter to you?”

You stare at him with furrowed brows. “This was my only day off of the week, Sebastian. I wanted to spend it together.  You’re always going on and on about how we don’t spend enough time together, yet every time I even make an effort you don’t even show—“

”Merlin forbid I want to celebrate a good day at work with my colleagues,” the younger Sebastian snarls, a hiccup lining the edge of his sentence as he slams his bag down on the table.

”You reek,” the past version of you declares, nose wrinkling. “Of booze.  How long have you been drinking?” You lean in, sniffing his neck.  Sebastian instinctively moves his arm, trying to pull you away.  It’s no use; it’s an illusion, his hand passes right through your skin. 

“Is that perfume?” Your voice falters.

”You’re imagining things,” Sebastian accuses.

”Don’t lie to me, Sallow.” You roar. “I smell perfume on your neck.”

Sebastian flinches when his younger self whirls around on his heel. “And so what if I smell like perfume?” He screeches.

Your face crumbles, and Sebastian has to force himself to look.  You look so much younger, with full cheeks and wide eyes.  He’d forgotten you’d plaited your hair at the top, just the way he’d liked it.  He remembered tugging on your braids when the two of you were still in school, before you’d even started dating.  That was ages ago, yet his heart still yearns for those days.

”Sebastian, have you been with someone else?”

The words still prick his heart, yet he forces himself to keep watching. His younger self stands there, a blank expression on his face.

”What if there was someone else?”

“Is there someone else?”

The younger Sebastian stands firm, arms folded over his chest.  This is it, the moment his heart closed to you.  This is when your relationship slipped down the drain. He doesn’t flinch with his next words, all aimed at you.  He’s playing the offense now, drawing blood with his words.

She’s nice, and she actually cares to listen to me.  I didn’t kiss her—but damn, I wanted to.

Sebastian perches on the table, knowing what comes next.  You don’t bother with tears—you’d cried enough in the last few months of the relationship, trying to salvage damaged goods.  There’s nothing left to give.  You pick up the closest book, hurling it at Sebastian’s face.  The book passes through the real Sebastian, his past self ducking just in time for it to slam against the wall.  The book falls to the ground with a thud, spine dented from the wooden beam.

His past self curses, knocking into the closest table.  Your favorite mug, the one with the funky handle, goes flying off the surface, the handle breaking off.

”I’m going to Ominis’s, until you can be a reasonable adult,” his past self roars, tugging the hood of his cloak over his head.

No, Sebastian screams. Don’t go.  She won’t be home when you come back.

”Sebastian!” You wail.  His head snaps to you, hands balled into fists at your side. He’d never noticed the look of despair on your face, the longing in your eyes. “I—“

The memory ends with a slammed door, your voice far away. He didn’t even give you the chance to finish your sentence.  Sebastian is forced out of the memory, head jolting out of the stone basin with nowhere else to go.

It’s the first time he’s forced himself to relive the memory.  It’s different than he remembered; he doesn’t look nearly as confident as he thought he did.  He doesn’t need to watch the rest to remember how it felt.  After a night spent on Ominis’s settee, sleeping off the alcohol, he’d walk back into the flat prepared with an apology.  He’d slip the key into the lock, calling out your name.  You’d probably be asleep in anticipation of your night shift, but he wouldn’t be able to wait.  He would burst through the bedroom, but you wouldn’t be in bed.  In fact, all of your belongings would be gone, leaving half of the flat bare.  No note, no goodbye.  He’d spend the better half of a day banging on Poppy’s door, only for her to snap at him in response. 

She doesn’t want to speak to you ever again. Every friend had said it, and Sebastian took it to heart.  Perhaps it would take you a couple of days, a few weeks at most to forgive him.  Weeks turned into months, and before long it was a year.  He moved into his own apartment in Diagon Alley.  Poppy and Imelda stopped talking to him entirely, and Natty would only speak to him at work.  It wasn’t much longer that he started chatting up women at the pub, going on dates.  You became a distant memory, his teenage love, a chapter he’d left behind.

Sebastian thought it would give him some closure. That he’d accept being the asshole, finally put you away for good.  Seeing your handwritten note to Ominis and Anne had only eroded his stone heart, dripping away at his resolve.  Hearing you laugh was like taking a pickaxe to the chest, and your summary of the relationship had been the killing blow. It’s like you didn’t even care; simply shrugging off what had been the longest and most defining relationship of his life.  

Isn’t that what he wanted?

Sebastian slumps against the basin, fingertips drumming against the edge.  It’s classic, really, textbook Sebastian Sallow to ruin everything.  He still remembers the way he pushed away Ominis, had forsaken Anne’s wants and needs when it came to her curse.  The unforgivable curse falling past his lips, regretting the words while he says them.  He’d crumpled in your arms, sobbing against your robes that night.  You’d given him a second chance at life, to be a better brother, a better friend.  He promised he wouldn’t squander the opportunity, choosing love over anger.

But falling in love with you hadn’t been a choice.  It had been natural, the easiest thing Sebastian had ever done.  He’d loved you so hard, too much—he’d wanted to marry you, for Merlin’s sake.  That all changed when you started working the night shift.  You spent less time together, and even moments at home were spent studying.  You balked at his touch, preferring the company of a book and a cup of tea instead.  He felt his walls go up, guarding himself from pain.  It couldn’t hurt if he hurt you first, he recalled. He’d bite the hand that fed him, and that would give him an advantage.  

Sebastian splashes the water in the pensieve, the silvery threads of his memory tangling in his fingers.  How easy it would be to store it away, destroy it forever. Fuck, he’d obliviate himself if he could.  He could move on with his life, finally be rid of you. 

Your name, scrawled on parchment.  The lilt of your laugh, the way your cheeks still turn pink when you smile.  The memory of your hair brushing against him in the morning, how just the memory of you is enough to make him hard.  Fuck, he loves you—he’s always loved you.  He’s always going to love you.  Who do you think you are, to stay this long?  Perhaps he’s afraid of you, how powerful you are to have this hold on him. 

Sebastian carefully collects the memory with the tip of his wand, letting it seep back through his ears and into his mind.  It hurts, still a heavy weight on his heart. But better to have it, to have a piece of you.  He knows he’s done irreparable harm, and he can’t change who he was then.  Sebastian has been given a plethora of second chances in his life, and he’s likely run up on any good karma he has left.

You deserve better, Sebastian thinks. He hopes you’re happy.  He wonders if you’re still enjoying the night shift, still at the top of your field.  His mind trails off to the man you were sharing drinks with—perhaps you’ve found love again. He shudders at the thought of you walking down the aisle to a faceless man, but there’s nothing he can do.  He made his bed, and he’ll lie in it.

Sebastian can only resolve to be better.  Maybe in time he’ll get back into Ominis and Anne’s good graces. Be a better brother, a better friend.  He shuts the cover on the pensieve, pushing it back into the corner of his bedroom.  His eye catches the book on his shelf with a dented spine before he straightens his tie, collecting his cloak to leave for work.

He can be better. Maybe. For now, he’ll settle on drinks after work, praying you don’t walk into the same pub as him ever again.

Sebastian’s breath is knocked out of his chest.  You’re sitting at the table with Poppy, Andrew’s chair pulled up next to them.  You look breathtaking, dressed in a pretty lace gown with matching gloves on your hands.  Your hair is piled atop your head in a fashionable way, and you’re blinking up at him expectantly.  He can barely look you in the eyes, lest he crumple at the knees.

”Emergency meeting,” he utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

That’s all you have to say?  He berates himself in his mind as Andrew and Everett bid you farewell.  Your eyes turn back disappointedly to the cutlery on the table, and Sebastian screams internally as his colleagues drag him away from the table on unsteady feet.

”Pull yourself together, man.” Everett rolls his eyes. “You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost.  And considering how many ghosts we knew at school, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“I can’t,” Sebastian mutters. “That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years.”

”Years?” Andrew’s eyes widen. “You’ve really gone that long?”

Years, Sebastian thinks.  Years since you left.  Years since he fought with Anne and Ominis after their wedding, years since he froze under the stairs at the Three Broomsticks, hearing you recount your love story to a new flame.  He’s thought of you every day since.

”That’s depressing,” Everett whistles low. “I never want to fall in love.”

“It’s sweet, really.” Andrew points out. “You never forget your first love, even after you’ve moved on.”

”Moved on?” Sebastian asks.

Everett gives him a sympathetic look, scratching his head. “Er, I thought you noticed—the giant diamond on her hand?  I heard she was engaged.” He confesses. “Sorry mate.  Natsai told me.”

Of course Natty wouldn’t tell him , Sebastian thinks.  She’s hardly spoken to him in years, despite working in the same department.  She’s dutifully ignored him, only daring to speak about work related matters.  The moment your conversations turn towards your personal lives, she would disappear.

”I’m happy for her,” he chokes out, trying to sound convincing.  He knows it isn’t.

”Well, you’re happy now too, aren’t you?” Andrew tries to cheer up the conversation. “The bachelor life suits you.”

Sebastian isn’t sure that’s true.

They apparate back to the ministry, all of the aurors crowded into the office to help with a massive case. Sebastian is hardly listening during the mission debrief.  His mind is elsewhere, on you.  He wonders if you’re marrying the man from the bar, the one with the cheesy questions.  He swallows thickly at the thought of you in love, real love this time.  Something that would last.

He wants to call on Anne.  They haven’t spoken since he’d fought with Ominis after their wedding, his twin holding strong to her words.  She wanted to see him grow, to confront his feelings before coming back to her.  Maybe now was a good time—Anne was always a good shoulder to cry on.

Sebastian had expected a decent fight, but this one takes the cake.  It’s the most intense of his auror career so far, battling what feels like an army of ashwinders who’ve rallied to terrorize the highlands once more. The fight isn’t fair; it’s brutal, several of his fellow aurors falling on the scene.  Andrew has a nasty gash, arms slung around both him and Everett as they try to get to a safe floo point. They might splinch if they try to apparate, and Andrew is looking pale enough as it is.

“Wild day, isn’t it?” Everett chuffs, straining as they lift Andrew and his bleeding leg. The floo point is about twenty feet away, but it’s an uphill climb. “We need to get him to St. Mungo’s, stat.” He says your name, wondering if you’re on duty to help with Andrew’s injury.

”She works the night shift,” Sebastian blurts. He doesn’t even know if you still work nights—it’s just the only thought that comes to mind.

”Well, maybe she’ll be there and you can stop acting like you’ve got doxies for brains.” Andrew snorts, wincing in pain.

”She looks happy,” Sebastian admits. “Beautiful. Merlin, I forgot how beautiful she is.”

Sebastian feels Andrew tugging on his shoulder, panic laced through his voice.  He turns to see an ashwinder, appearing out of nowhere.  The masked man has his wand raised, pulling his arm back to inflict a curse.  Sebastian can see he’s aiming at Everett, the incantation on his lips.

Sebastian doesn’t hesitate.  He lets go of Andrew, letting him topple over onto the grass.  He dives in front of his partner, the bolt of green magic electrifying him as he lands with a thud on the ground.  He can’t tell if he’s yelling, or if it’s Clopton.  He feels cold and wet, streaks of red blossoming on his crisp white shirt.  

“We have to get him to St. Mungo’s!” Everett roars. “I don’t care, apparate! Get us out of here!” 

Andrew crawls over to his side.  He asks Sebastian to forgive him, curling his arms around him as they apparate away from the scene.  Sebastian feels like he’s being pushed through a piece of straw, landing on the cold marble floor of the St. Mungo’s intensive care ward. Healers are already running amok, trying to help the others coming in from the scene. A healer is sending a patronus message, rabbit bouncing off the walls before disappearing to relay a message.  He wants to lift his head, check the room to see if you’re there.  When he tries, Clopton chastises him, holding him down to the floor.

We have to stop the bleeding, someone says. What bleeding?  He’s just cold.  

“Can someone get me a blanket?” Sebastian slurs, words garbled in his throat.

He hears someone saying your name. “We’ve called in the head of the ward,” they say. “She’s on her way in as we speak.”

“We know her,” Andrew insists, still holding his hand down tight against Sebastian’s chest.  He’s not sure why Andrew is clutching him so tightly, clamping down on his sternum.

”She’ll know how to stop the bleeding,” the healer assures him. “She’ll figure it out—her magic always does the trick.”

That’s all he needs to know. Sebastian shuts his eyes, the sounds of the ward disappearing against the ringing in his ears.  He’ll be okay, especially if you’re on the way. Deep down, Sebastian knows he’s in good hands.

[epickiya722]

I think about how some people actually hate on Yuji, Nobara and Megumi and get confused because I went into JJK and by episode 3 I adored them.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

someone else has probably already made a joke like this, but...

Miranda & Mia: *arguing over something stupid*

MC, trying to get work done: can the two of you PLEASE take your foreplay somewhere else?

Miranda, sputtering: what?! we are NOT engaging in foreplay-

Mia: ... we're not? ;(