#sebastian needs a hug

[speedysart]

Day 30 Catacombs

Sebastian looked down on to his right hand as if he could see something invisible so clearly. Terzia frowned as the warm candlelight gave enough light to see the deep darkness in his eyes… his soul.

“I have… also nightmares. About the catacombs and what.. happened there. Every time I close my eyes I’m back there- forced to watch- doing this mistake over and over again,” Sebastian said, his voice cracking. “The guilt is eating me alive. I lost everything and its all my fault-“

Terzia didnt let him finish the sentence and pulled him into an embrace, similar to what he done to her once before. “You still have me and Ominis…”

[slytherin-paramour]

More older Azkaban Seb 😭 Let me hug him please?

[xxrubens-liliumxx]

No Strings Attached - Chapter One

Well, went and got so obsessed with Pressure and Sebastian that I've gone and started writing my own fanfic! This will be an OCxCanon story - because I'm trash - with some mature and explicit themes, as well as some smut/spice. Along with those I plan to add in some of the classic tropes: like angst, hurt/comfort - maybe some 'he falls first' but who knows - and fluff. I will try and add every chapter update onto Tumblr if I remember, but if people really like this, I'll provide an Ao3 link which will serve as the story's home base. I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter! (THIS IS ALSO AN +18 STORY AND ACCOUNT. MDNI) Summary: It's been half a year since Hadel Blacksite has gone on lockdown.

Urbanshade sends in one last EXR-P team into Hadal Blacksite to retrieve their Crystal. Naturally, they die at the hands of the monsters inside that hellish place...all except for one.

Riley Park, a woman who has barely said a word since her sentencing, is somehow the last survivor trapped inside the facility. Desperate for the pardon promised to her by Urbanshade, she's determined to survive and win her freedom.

Sebastian Solace won't stop at nothing until he's brought Urbanshade down. At least, that's what he thought, until he comes across an Expendable who's different from all the ones before her. Finding himself allured to her, he decides to make her a temporary offer he hopes she won't refuse.

In a place where death is around every corner, what shame is there in engaging in a little thrill to feel alive for a while? Chapter One

“EMERGENCY!...EMERGENCY!...EMERGENCY!”

The security alarm rang from above - had been ringing for God knew how many minutes. Then, like clockwork, the pre-recorded voice followed:

“Please, evacuate to the nearest escape pod or to the nearest docking station. This is not a drill. Repeat: This is not a drill.”

The docking station was bathed in red.

Crawling on the floor, gripping a hand to his bleeding face, was Doctor Liam Hayes. A man in his late forties, pale skin, gaunt complexion and long wavy blonde hair that was usually kept in a ponytail. The white sleeve of his lab coat was stained with his own blood, which streamed down his wrist and his forearm in crimson rivulets.

Using his other hand, he crawled towards the awaiting submarine, unaware that he was leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. The door was wide open, the inside completely vacant. All he needed to do was get there.

At least he hoped it was the submarine he was looking at. His left eye was virtually gone, and blood had gotten into his right one, making his impaired vision blotchy.

He couldn’t hold back his whimpers of pain. Even moving across the ground hurt. The skin on the left side of his face felt like it was on fire from the gash wound. But Hayes willed himself to move fast, desperate to get to the submarine.

His very life depended on it.

A shadow fell over Hayes. A large one.

Sensing it, Hayes began to crawl faster, completely terrified. He muttered into the air:

“Have to...get...away-!”

He shrieked when something harshly grabbed him by the back of his lab coat, picking him off the ground and shoving him onto his back as roughly as possible. The rough movement sent a shock of pain through Hayes’ wound, making him cry out again.

He still had enough strength to keep his hand clutched to his face, feeling even more blood seeping from between his fingers.

When Hayes opened his only eye, all he saw was a massive figure bathed in red before him. And though he couldn’t properly make out his face, Hayes knew he was looking down at him. Just as he knew one of Z-13's hands was covered in his blood. He'd just stepped into the docking station when the beast struck, those sharp claws cut right through the skin on the left side of Hayes' face. 

Three ice-blue eyes glowed brightly from the silhouette of Z-13. They pierced right into his core, clutching his fast-beating heart with a fear Liam Hayes had never felt before.

“What’s the matter, Doctor?” Said Z-13. His voice was cold, but there was a twinge of mockery in his words. “You used to be so happy to see me." He chuckled then. "Though I guess you won't be seeing very much anymore.”

Hayes once again tried to crawl away, panic beginning to take over him. He moved only a few inches before a long and scaly serpent tail coiled around his waist. It squeezed him tightly before promptly slamming him back down on the ground.

Feeling the air being squeezed from him, Hayes coughed. Blood sputtered from his lips with every other word. “Z-Z…Z-13! Please, you must-must understand…!” he breathed, his lungs screaming in pain with every breath. “What-What I did…it wasn’t-wasn’t…out of malice!”

He cried out when Z-13 squeezed his tail just a little more. Hayes could have sworn he felt something beginning to crack.

“Careful now, Doctor Hayes.” He warned, his voice growing darker. “Lying to me isn’t in your best interest right now.”

Painfully, Hayes wheezed out. “I’ve NEVER lied to you, Z-13!”

As if in retaliation, Z-13 squeezed him again. This time Hayes not only heard something crack, but felt it. He cried out so loudly he thought his voice box would give out. Tears welled up in his right eye and he tried - even if pointlessly - to push the monster’s tail off him with both hands.

All he did was smear blood on Z-13’s dark gray scales.

He could just hear him speaking over the ringing in his ears.

“Bold thing of you to say when all you've done is lie." Z-13 said. Malice dripped like venom from his lips. "You, your fellow scientists and your superiors. I wish I could say I was surprised when I found out that the whole reason I even got that poor excuse of a 'promotion' was because my mutations were irreversible at that point. Little something you failed to mention to me, just before I was taken out of your care."

Hayes scowled at him as much as he could through the pain, one of his canines bearing into his bottom lip so hard he could taste his own blood on his tongue. "So, that's what all of this is about?" he growled, his voice hoarse from his scream.

He knew Z-13 could be bloodthirsty, but he never would have suspected him to be capable of such chaos. To cause an entire facility lockdown over a blessing Hayes had given him? 

"Oh, spare me the shock, Doctor." Z-13 retorted. "Even you're smart enough to know there's a lot more to all this. From what I've gathered from a few of my new friends, you, your associates and your superiors had this coming for a long time. I'm simply the hand that spun the wheel in motion." 

Hayes' scowl intensified at Z-13. He wished the beast still had that shock collar around his neck. Hayes would have dialed that device right up to a high number and watched him writhe in pain on the ground until he begged for mercy. A mercy Hayes would delay and delay, until he was certain Z-13 remembered not to bite the hand that fed him. 

He didn't hold back another throaty snarl at him. "I told them taking you out of my custody was a bad - AUGH!" his words were cut short when Z-13's tail tightened yet again.  

His cry of pain was ignored as Z-13 began to speak. “Naked truth, Doc? I’ve thought of a hundred different ways of killing you. Maybe even thousands. I mean, all I had time to do over the years in your care was to think. And let me tell you, each idea was more gruesome than the last. But, after some more recent thought, I've decided that the simplest route is the best. That being -”

Hayes’ screaming was silenced when he felt a warm hand grasp him by the throat. A hand that was so large that he felt the tips of Z-13’s bloody claws scrape against the back of his neck. 

" - Choking the very life from you with my bare hands."

Keeping his throat tight as he could, Hayes started to struggle. He tried to force Z-13's hand off, yet all he could manage was tightly grasping his wrist. When he felt him beginning to squeeze around his windpipe, Hayes tried again, this time trying to pry off those sharp claws. But his efforts were only met with a chuckle of sheer amusement. 

"Come on, Doctor. I've been dreaming of this moment for years now. The least you could do is try and put up a better fight."     

He met those glowing eyes again. He took in a handful of deep breaths, ignoring the pain they caused him, so he could choke out. "Killing me...won't make you human again." 

A pause followed. A very long one. Hayes was expecting to die getting the last word. A blessing he never thought he'd get from Z-13.

Or so he thought.

The beast replied, sounding indifferent now. "No. It won't. But you know what, Doc?" then the bulb protruding from his head brightened enough for Hayes to see the wide, fang-filled grin on Z-13’s face. A face that was a perfect middle-ground between the man he once was and the many aquatic creatures Hayes had injected into his very DNA. "That won't make your death any less satisfying." 

[everlander]

Just finished writing the chapter I've been dreading ever since I started. I'm devastated.

RIP Professor Fig. I tried to give him as beautiful of an ending as I could... I hope I was successful.

:In the Shadow of the Vivarium" by EverLander on AO3 and Wattpad (EverLander80 there)

[polly-sly]

Crybaby Sebby

[jellyfishoreo1206]

Comfort (Sebastian Solace x reader)

Notes: Part two of Home, wanted to indulge a little more in Sebastian and Painter finally living the life they wanted. Thank you all for the love on the last one! Makes me happy to know that you guys like my short drabbles, probably or probably won't make a part three

But, we'll see ;)

Credit for the divider: @cafekitsune

God, how long were you gone for you to miss cooking? The simple preparation of the dinner you were making gave you an unbelievable amount of joy, hell even the assembly of it made you excited. You could already feel your mouth water from the multitude smells wafting throughout the home, creating a symphony of flavors. Stirring the pot one last time and tasting the soup for any last minute touches, you killed the heat before bringing out two bowls and spoons.

Peaking out the window, you see Painter at their new tablet—a wire connecting the tablet to the AI—drawing the scenery around the house with such enthusiasm, such joy seen on their screen. So far, it seems like they were drawing the sunset.

"Sebastian, dinner's ready!" Ladling the soup in the bowl, you made sure to give Sebastian's extra meat and veggies before setting it at the table. The sound of distant shuffling coming from the direction of Sebastian's room met your ears, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the curses leaving the man's mouth when he accidentally hit his tail, serving yourself soup before sitting down at the table.

Emerging from the hallway, Sebastian survey's the room, taking in every detail before heading towards the table. He changed out of his iconic jacket and ruffled shirt, now donning a clean white shirt with an added sleeve for his third arm and fresh bandages. The stitches were a bit messy, but you're willing to learn how to do so properly. His scarf was currently being washed, as the piece of clothing had a stench that was so strong it nearly made you sick—no way were you going to let that smell stain the house.

You have no idea how Sebastian withstood the smell for so long, considering he has a greater sense of smell compared to you.

Oh god, that means it must have been 10x worse for the poor man.

Considering Sebastian wouldn't be able to fit in a normal chair comfortably, you dragged over your couch to the table, that way he could eat without having to sit on his tail. You could only imagine the cramps he experienced down in the facility, cramped in a small room hours on end with no room for his tail to stretch properly. He seemed to appreciate the gesture greatly, wasting no time to stretch out his tail over the edge of the couch and getting comfortable. A quiet trill of content could be heard, his eyes closing momentarily to soak in the warmth.

"How do you feel?" Picking up your spoon, you scooped up a piece of meat and a bit of the broth, blowing on it softly before bringing it up to your mouth. A burst of flavors greeted your tastebuds, starved of the warmth and flavor of actual food, a small smile appearing on your face before eagerly going back for another scoop. Sebastian seems to mull over your question, an unreadable look settles on his face as he readjusts his position. He seems . . . unsure.

"You don't have to answer if you feel like you might breakdown breakdown thinking about it." You add, using your spoon to point in his direction, "By the way, make sure to eat your soup before it gets cold, soup is never good when cold."

"I'm not going to breakdown from a simple question." A snarky reply leaves his tongue, but it's missing that rough edge. No harm in those words.

It's . . . nice, really. Nice that he can finally be himself around you. Finally breaking down those walls.

~~~

Well, dinner was eventful to say the least.

It turns out that Sebastian had forgot what actual food tasted like, since he has been at the facility since 2015, and *cough cough* had a breakdown breakdown.

It took quite some time for him to calm down in order for him to finish eating his now cold soup, tears still streaking down his face when he did so. He didn't complain how it was cold though, he still loved it, his tail gave him away. When the bowl was empty, you encouraged him to go to bed early, since he seemed to be exhausted. Begrudgingly, he agreed with your statement, before slithering back into his room, the bumps of his tail hitting the walls on his way back.

Walking around the kitchen, you cleaned up the mess left behind. Dishes washed, counter cleaned, floor broomed. Stopping before the couch, you stared at it for a bit, mulling over whether it should be moved back to it's original place or would you have to repeatedly move it back and forth every time you had to eat.

"Well, Sebastian's going to be eating here from now on, yeah?" Leaving seems like a better option than the other two, really. Sebastian needs somewhere to eat and you're not going to make him eat on the floor. Oh god you hope you never have to do that. What time is it? A glance at the clock, 9:08 PM.

You still had some time before turning in for the night, so finishing up, you decided to chill outside with Painter for a bit before going back inside. You hope the computer doesn't mind some company, they've been outside for a while now.

"Hey Painter." Stepping outside, the summer night breeze washes over you, the smell of the wild nature hitting your nose as you walked over to the bench that Painter was set on. They seemed to have stopped painting, now just watching the night sky above, fascination written all over their screen. "Do you mind having company?'"

"No, not at all."

The stars seemed so bright tonight, leaning back more to admire it in all its beauty. Silence fell between the two of you— a breeze coming by every so often to break it—the both of you looking at the specks of light above. "You like it up here?"

A simple question sparked such a happy reaction from the AI, the brightness emitting from their screen becoming brighter. "Oh absolutely! Just after you left me outside, I saw a Flame Skimmer fly by! It seemed to circle around for a bit, but it eventually went away. Fortunately I was able to get a quick sketch of it. Oh oh! I was able to paint a few scenes while you were inside, one of them has Cumulonimbus clouds! Then-" They happily showed you their paintings and sketches they made throughout the day, enthusiasm laced in every word they spoke.

A smile present on your face, listening to their passionate rant. Maybe you could bring them to that one spot in the woods you frequented before being arrested.

Yeah, you can get used to this . . .

First Part, Next Part

[vroom-vrooms]

Should I… comment on how Mark… looks so big… compared to Seb… in this picture…???

I don’t think I should…

[cherryqueen88]

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[i44rise]

— well hello, sweetheart. i have been waiting for you

[allyartisty]

Sebastian Solace “Z-13”💉

Hello my pressure fans, I wanted to draw Sebastian (how I see him) I hope you guys like :) soon I’ll do more Sebastian drawings after his surgery

Program used: Procreate

Time: 3 hours

‼️please don’t steal nor repost my art without permission‼️

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn’t die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 18/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake, Donna Troy

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Eighteen: The Campaign: Malatra Pt. 2

We took a break after introductions to get our dinner.  Alfred made chicken alfredo, which was a hit with the guys. I lingered in the kitchen with Hudson for a minute. “How do you feel about DM-ing for the first time?” Hudson asked. 

I sipped my soda. “I feel like you guys are just being nice,” I replied. 

“Trust me, if you sucked we’d all be booing you mercilessly. Do you like it?” Hudson questioned. I nodded as I sipped his drink. 

“Jason! Hudson! Are you guys coming or not?” Tim called. I laughed, shaking off my nerves as I went upstairs with my plate to my room. I took my spot and ate a forkful before falling back into character. 

“Theren Everlake circles the four of you, staring with unknown intent, his hair makes a sweet hollow noise in the wind… And he stops, tilting his chin downward and toward the side as he glances upon Fettar Keephorn. His jaw tightens, his eyes waver, and something beneath his stern and wooden facade, something in him breaks.” I acted out the movements for everyone before shutting my eyes. “Quickly. He turns his attention to Eldrid Deepwood. He extends a hand, bowing warmly despite his despair.”

“Your reputation precedes you. The last of your clan. I feel as though you will understand my anguish… Would you give audience to my humble and sorrowful request?” I asked in Theren’s voice. 

Ives finished taking a bite and everyone chuckled. The shift between Ives and Eldrid was perfect. His eyes widened and he glanced down and around him before looking straight at me. “Aye,” Ives answered, “There’s much grief here.” 

“We’ve lost someone deeply beloved to us… Or I should say, someone dearly beloved to us was captured. Lunathari… And in her absence, a mysterious illness has befallen our children,” I explained. 

“Where did they take her?” Hudson asked in Clay’s voice. It was a little more grownup than his voice. Hudson’s characters always jump headfirst into a mission. It didn’t take a lot to get him involved, but he was a wildcard. 

I looked straight at him. “You’ve returned to your forgotten home. In any other circumstances, this would be a joyous occasion. Lunathari would be overjoyed to see you once more… But I’m afraid this quest may take more than one person… If your traveling companions will accept this quest, I am willing to offer payment. What say you?” I questioned. 

Tim scratched his head and pretended to push his glasses up. “Well, Mr. Everlake. May I call you Mr. Everlake? My liege? Nevermind that. We’ll do everything we can to retrieve Miss Lunathari. Won’t we, Mr. Deepwood?” Tim asked in his girl voice. I finished eating dinner, and I wiped my mouth while I waited for everyone else to speak. 

“I reckon we could get her home if we all work together,” Ives answered, “Miss Moonfall is right. We’ll do whatever we can.” 

“I owe you that much,” Hudman mumbled. He didn’t look up. 

“Then, I see fit to remind you to return Lunathari to me. Unlike what you’ve done with Clay—.”

“Theren—.”

“Hold your tongue, Clay. You were only a boy when you left us,” I replied, looking at Hudson with a sweet fondness. Hudson’s cheeks went rosy, and he bowed his head. Tim’s eyes widened as he looked straight at me. 

**

After two hours, they made it down the other side of the mountain in view of the cave where Lyra the Torturer held her adoptive sister Lunatharia. “Can I try to sneak toward the mouth of the cave?” Hudman asked. 

“Roll for stealth,” I replied. Hudman rolled and everyone held their breath. 

“Nineteen, plus nine stealth advantage,” Hudman sighed. 

The guys knocked each other around in celebration. “You stroll right up to the entrance without being seen or heard. You’re just… close… enough… to… hear…” The alarm on my phone went off. “Sorry, guys. Time to clean up. Alfred’ll be up any minute to take you guys home.” 

Everyone groaned and started picking up their backpacks. I left everything in its place, and Tim took a picture. Ives and Hudman texted their parents to tell them they’d be home soon, and Hudson sat next to me on the floor. “Do you maybe wanna—? The school’s going on a trip next month. Maybe we can sit next to each other on the bus,” Hudson offered. 

“For sure, Hudson,” I smiled, “And thanks for being nice about me DM-ing. I was nervous you’d think I sucked.” 

“Hey, you’re doing fine… I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” Hudson smiled as he hugged me. I don’t think he was thinking because he rushed behind the other guys as they went down the stairs. 

They left me alone with Tim. He seemed happy. It was nice to see him happy again. “ Hudson? ” Tim questioned. 

“What about him?” I asked. 

Tim shrugged, still smiling as he set his die in the pouch they came in. “I don’t even know why you were worried. You should DM for the next campaign, too,” Tim smiled. 

“It’s a lot of work, though,” I replied.

“You love DM-ing. I can tell,” Tim smiled, but his eyes drooped. I could almost feel his sadness. 

I dropped down beside him, sitting on my bed with my hands clasped together. “What’s on your mind?” I questioned. 

“Mom… She used to read these books by R.A. Salvatore. She used to read them to me before bed, and it was our thing… And then, she started having me read to her… And then I started reading them to myself before bed. Jason, that’s why it means so much for you to host and DM like this,” Tim smiled, “Not only are we brothers, but you’re sharing something with me that Mom loved.” I bumped shoulders with him. 

“Are you sleeping in here tonight?” I asked. Tim nodded. He couldn’t sleep in his room. I couldn’t blame him. The manor wasn’t home for him. Not to mention, his parents’ house was a lot more friendly-looking on the inside. That… And the obvious stuff going on. 

**

I trained with Barbara on Wednesday, which mostly started with her taking me to physical therapy and then swimming. After we swam, Barbara went over the basics of self-defense in wheelchairs specifically. Always self-defense first. I think she knew the stress of losing Janet caused a flare-up of nerve pain in my legs. Maybe she saw it in the way I got out of the pool. 

Barbara was no-nonsense. She went over everything three times, and we did everything thrice. Unless I didn’t do things to her standards. “Nuh-uh. Sloppy. You’re coming up weak on that right arm block. I could push that arm right into your face,” Barbara replied as she pushed my forearm into my nose. It was humbling. And infuriating. And my temper was short.

I huffed and pushed my bangs back. “Okay! I get it,” I snapped. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it during training. That was the difference between her and Bruce. Bruce was way nicer about it when he trained me. 

I had to shake that thought off. I had to stop being sensitive and short-tempered if I wanted to get better. “Get it together. Three more times,” Barbara replied. I obeyed without any further complaint. If I could keep my head down and train hard, I could be back in fighting shape on schedule.

[foxesonstilts]

it's a long long long way, way down

[skitskatdacat63]

The brainrot this literal 2 second clip had given me is insane

[sunnyrealist]

The Night Sebastian Met Kate

Credit for the artwork goes to the incredibly talented @giselsann-opencommissions! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Loud hollering and laughter carry across the tavern. 

The Leaky Cauldron is more alive tonight than Sebastian Sallow was hoping. Drowning in Firewhisky is not quite as easy when one’s attention is constantly drawn elsewhere. His jealousy, masked as annoyance, is clear as he scowls at the table across the pub that seems to be causing at least half of the noise. There, a group of about ten young adults grin, cackle, and shout in merriment. Sebastian wonders how long they’ve been here, hoping they’ll all be on their way soon so he can properly wallow in his darkness and misery. Can’t do that when the sounds of content companionship fill the air. Their table is littered with empty mugs and cocktail glasses - perhaps they’ve had enough. Narrowing his gaze, he throws suggestive thoughts their way, trying to anchor them to their minds - Float on home now. Time to leave.  

No such luck. 

Instead, there are encouraging shouts as a young woman stands and glides to the front of the large table with the grace of a selkie goddess. As if a life preserver was thrown his way, his interest suddenly, shockingly awakens and bobs to the surface. His eyes grow wide.

She tucks a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear and then throws the rest of it behind her, letting it settle midway down her back. The ocean of her hair is calm, with waves only at the bottom, carrying daisy passengers up above. Her dress, yellow and long, only adds to the effect of the sea at sunset. It rides her body tightly, accentuating the feminine curves of her body; her breasts swell and fall, only for her hips to ripple out again, and then subside. Her short sleeves are puffed, keeping her fashionably afloat. 

Brown packages and bags decorated with colorful ribbons are tossed to the head of their table as offerings to the golden angel. She smiles, her rosy pink lips widening before her perfect white teeth. Her eyes sparkle as she listens and nods, agreeing to something. Then, her dainty hands begin to untie a bow and rip open the paper of one of the presents. She shrieks with laughter upon opening the box. Sebastian strains his eyes, trying to determine what was inside, but he’s just too far away to be able to tell. All of her companions erupt into giggles, men and women alike.

As the young woman speaks and picks up the next gift, her head suddenly turns Sebastian’s way, her eyes focusing directly on him. He realizes he has been watching her for far too long. Immediately, his eyes flick down to the bottle of Firewhisky, pretending to examine the label. She narrows her view, looking for just a moment longer before returning to the attention of her friends. 

Sebastian knows he shouldn’t keep staring. He knows. He just can’t seem to help it, continuing to observe her for hours like a creep while he nurses drink after drink. It takes a great deal to get him buzzed these days; alcohol is just about one of his only escapes from the daily torture of his sad, pathetic existence. What’s the harm in looking at a beautiful girl for a while, anyway? It’s not like she’d ever want to talk with him. She has her people; he has his bottle. He takes a large swig of his Firewhisky, enjoying the burn as it distracts him momentarily.

When Sebastian orders another round, the barkeep looks as though he pities him. He scowls at this; he doesn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. He fixes his gaze on the countertop in front of him. Then a familiar feeling settles; someone is watching. Sebastian’s senses pick up on this immediately, his eyes opening wide to scan his surroundings. It’s her. Yellow personified. She’s studying him. When her eyes meet his, she turns pink for a moment, then looks away. 

If you've made it this far, give my fanfic a shot and drop some feedback! I am brand new to fanfiction writing and looking to better understand what I am doing well and how I could improve. Anything - even just dropping Kudos - helps! I appreciate you!

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

The Summer After | Sebastian Sallow x OC #3

Summary: In the the summer after fifth year, Sebastian finally faces Ominis and Evangeline, grappling with the weight of his choices and the trust he's shattered. Sebastian resolves to rebuild what he’s broken, even if it takes a lifetime.

Words: 5,536

Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon Reconciliation, Friends to Lovers (Implied), Regret and Redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unbreakable Vows, Self-Reflection and Healing

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

The midday sun cast long, warm beams over Feldcroft’s rolling fields, but the cottage where Sebastian now lived alone stood cloaked in an uneasy quiet. The village, once filled with happy memories and bustling with the sounds of his youthful summers, felt vacant, haunted. Sebastian hadn't left the cottage for days—his world narrowed to its stone walls and shadowed corners. Letters from Ominis and Evangeline had been his only ties to the outside, and even those carried a weight that was hard to bear.

Inside, Sebastian paced, glancing nervously at the door, and then out the window toward the path that led from the village. He wasn’t prepared for Ominis and Evangeline's visit. Though he’d written often over the summer, he hadn’t let himself imagine facing either of them again.

He was adjusting the chairs for the third time when he finally saw two figures approaching. His breath caught as he recognized them: Ominis, walking with his careful precision, his arm linked with Evangeline’s. She walked beside him, beautiful as ever, her dark hair lifted by the breeze, eyes cast downward until they reached the threshold.

Sebastian opened the door, and the three stood there, locked in the kind of silence only deep closeness and months of estrangement could create. Ominis nodded slightly, his expression as neutral as Sebastian expected. But Evangeline—she met his eyes for the briefest moment, her face soft yet unreadable, the kind of expression he’d only seen once, back when they first met. He felt a pull, wanting to say so much but knowing that words would barely scratch the surface of all he needed to tell her.

“Sebastian,” Ominis began, his voice firm but gentle, breaking the silence.

"Come in."

Sebastian opened the door, and the three of them stood there, caught in the kind of silence that only deep closeness and months of estrangement could create. Ominis inclined his head slightly, his expression as neutral as Sebastian expected. But Evangeline—she met his gaze for the briefest moment, her face soft yet unreadable, carrying an impassive expression he’d only seen once, back when they first met. He felt a pull, a desperate urge to say something, anything, though he knew that no words could encompass all that had built up between them.

“Sebastian,” Ominis finally said, his voice steady but softened by a note of concern.

"Come in," Sebastian managed, stepping aside.

They entered in a stilted silence, the cottage feeling suddenly unfamiliar with them there. Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d let the place slip into disarray: his books lay scattered across the table, a half-eaten loaf of bread sat beside an untouched tea cup, and the air was thick, stale.

Ominis ran a hand along the back of a chair, his fingers tracing the dust, his brow creasing. “I would have hoped,” he began, his voice carrying a gentle reprimand, “that you’d at least open a window once in a while.”

Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by the state of the room. “Hadn’t thought much about it,” he muttered.

Ominis turned his head toward him, pausing before speaking. “Have you been eating?” he asked, his tone shifting as he added, “You lookk like you’ve lost half your weight.” His voice was gentle, but there was a pointed concern in his words, one that seemed to linger in the air.

Sebastian blinked, taken aback, and opened his mouth to brush off the comment—until he really looked at them both, in return. Ominis was paler than usual, with dark shadows under his eyes that he hadn’t noticed at first. There was a weariness etched into his features, a toll that even his usual composure couldn’t hide. And Evangeline… her once-pleasant fullness had faded; she looked thinner, and though she stood with a kind of resilience, her frame seemed almost fragile, her cheeks hollowed and her eyes shadowed by exhaustion. He felt a sick twist in his stomach, disliking it immediately.

Evangeline hovered near the doorway, her eyes flickering over the room, taking in the disarray with a mixture of concern and something else—maybe disappointment. She held herself tensely, arms crossed as if guarding herself from the ghosts this place harbored. Sebastian swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her silence, heavier than any words she could have spoken.

Ominis gave a short sigh and tilted his head in Evangeline’s direction. “Anyway. We didn’t come to judge your housekeeping. But we do need to know that you’re… managing.” His voice softened, a rare crack in his usual steady tone. "We've been worried."

Sebastian’s gaze fell, tracing the worn wood of the floorboards beneath his feet. “Managing,” he echoed, almost to himself. The word felt distant. Truthfully, he hadn’t really been managing at all—he’d been surviving, barely getting by each day without letting the weight of his mistakes crush him. And now, standing before them, his failures seemed laid bare in every corner of the neglected room.

“I'm fine," he lied, glancing up at Evangeline, and hoping, irrationally, to find some trace of the warmth he’d once taken for granted. But her expression was shuttered, her eyes guarded, as if she were steeling herself against him.

Evangeline’s arms tightened across her chest, her gaze unwavering but distant, as if she were seeing past him, into the echoes of what they’d all been through. She let his words hang in the air, their hollowness settling uncomfortably between them.

"Are you?” she finally asked, her voice soft but laced with skepticism. There was no bite, no accusation, only the quiet ache of someone who had been hurt too much to take things at face value anymore.

Sebastian shifted, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He knew she didn’t believe him, knew that the very sight of him probably brought back memories he wished he could erase from her mind. But he couldn’t take back the choices he’d made, the lines he’d crossed. All he could do was stand there and feel the weight of her disappointment settle over him like a shroud.

Ominis cleared his throat, breaking the silence with a gentleness that bordered on exasperation. "There's no point in lying to us, Sebastian."

Sebastian sighed, his eyes drifting from Ominis to Evangeline before he nodded, forcing himself to adopt a semblance of calm. “Right,” he muttered, gesturing toward the fireplace. “Let’s sit.”

They each took their seats, with Ominis in his usual steady posture, Evangeline cautiously perching on the edge of her chair, and Sebastian sinking into his as though its worn cushions might somehow absorb his unease. The room felt unbearably still as they arranged themselves, the crackling of the fire the only sound to fill the silence.

Evangeline shifted, her gaze fixed on the flames. The light cast shadows over her hollowed face, highlighting a softness in her expression that was at odds with her guarded posture. Sebastian studied her, feeling an old longing bloom within him—a futile hope that she might still see something in him worth salvaging. But he couldn’t tell if her quietness stemmed from anger, sorrow, or perhaps both.

“Look,” he started, breaking the silence with a low, uneven voice, “I know I’ve been… distant. Not just now, but for months. I know you probably think…” He trailed off, glancing down, the words snagged in his throat. How could he explain the depth of his remorse? How could he make them understand that he barely understood it himself?

Ominis tilted his head toward him, his face softening in a way that Sebastian recognized—an invitation to speak, no matter how difficult it might be. “We’re here now, Sebastian. Whatever it is, we’re listening.”

Sebastian swallowed, his fists clenching unconsciously. “I’ve thought about it—everything that happened—every single day since then. It’s like I’m living in a memory, or a nightmare, or maybe both.” He looked up, meeting Ominis’s steady gaze and then turning, almost unwillingly, toward Evangeline. “And it’s like every letter, every reminder that you’re both still… here, it almost makes it worse. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve either of you still caring, after what I did.”

Ominis shifted, his fingers steepled thoughtfully as he considered Sebastian. “No one is expecting you to undo the past,” he said carefully. “But we’re hoping—I’m hoping—that you’ll take the steps to start making things right. That you’ll show us, somehow, that you’re still the person we believed in. Even if he’s buried under layers of… regret.” His tone softened, almost imperceptibly.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened as he nodded, the glimmer of possibility—the chance to rebuild, even in fragments—bringing a hesitant warmth to the heavy ache in his chest. He looked back to Evangeline, searching her face for any hint of forgiveness. Her expression, still guarded, softened just enough that he dared to believe she might still want him there. That she might still believe he could become someone worthy of her trust again.

With a deep breath, Sebastian finally whispered, “I want to try. I just… don’t know where to begin.”

Evangeline took a steadying breath, her sad smile fading as she met Sebastian’s gaze with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. “Why do we starte… being honest. There are things I’ve been holding back—things we’ve both held back—because…” She trailed off, searching for the right words, glancing toward Ominis as if looking for confirmation.

Ominis nodded, his face softening as he turned toward Sebastian. “Because we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he finished, his voice quiet but unwavering. “But in doing that, we’ve been tearing ourselves apart. And it’s not sustainable, Sebastian. It's not fair.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened as their words sank in, each syllable like a stone dropped into the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t realized how deeply his actions had rippled, how much pain they’d taken on in silence, just to spare him. “I never… I never wanted you to feel like that,” he said, his voice rough with the weight of his guilt.

Evangeline’s expression softened, but her gaze remained piercing. “You say that,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “but you made your choices knowing that they’d hurt us. You knew that we’d be left picking up the pieces.” She blinked, looking away as if fighting to keep her composure. “I just don’t understand how we mattered so little in that moment."

The raw vulnerability in her voice struck Sebastian like a blow, and he felt a hollow ache settle in his chest. “You did matter,” he insisted, his own voice breaking. “You have always mattered, Evangeline. Both of you have. I… I just, I couldn't stand by and let Anne wither away. I had to try and fix it-"

“By losing yourself to dark magic?” Ominis interrupted, his voice colder than Sebastian had ever heard it. “You thought you could ‘fix’ things by going down a path that you knew was dangerous, reckless… destructive? Do you have any idea how many nights we spent worrying about what you’d do next? How many times we had to hold each other back from going after you, just to make sure you wouldn’t get yourself killed?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but no words came.

Evangeline’s eyes glistened, but she held his gaze, her voice steady. “If we’re going to rebuild anything, Sebastian, we need… assurances.” Her words hung in the air, each one weighted with the gravity of her resolve. “We need to know that you’ll never be pulled in by dark magic again, that you won’t… choose that over us.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, "I swear it,” he said, his voice raw with conviction. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to… to prove that I’m still someone worth believing in. I know it won’t be easy, and I know I’ll never fully undo what I’ve done… but please. You two... you're all I have left. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this right," Sebastian finished, his voice breaking as he met their gazes. The weight of his words lingered, a solemn promise that echoed in the quiet room.

Evangeline’s guarded expression softened slightly, though her arms remained crossed, a physical barrier she hadn’t yet let down, “Words and promises are one thing, but..."

Sebastian nodded, his throat tight, but before he could respond, Ominis leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently in Sebastian’s direction. “Sebastian… if you truly mean this, then you should be willing to vow it.”

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. “Vow it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He knew Ominis wasn’t just asking for any ordinary promise; this was a magical vow, one that would bind him in ways he couldn’t escape.

Ominis tilted his head, his expression unyielding but calm. “Yes. An unbreakable vow,” he said, voice steady and resolute. “If you’re truly committed to making things right, to never letting yourself fall into the darkness again, then swear it here and now.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, the gravity of Ominis’s words pressing down on him. His gaze shifted from Ominis to Evangeline, who watched him with a mixture of wariness and hope, her eyes soft but filled with unshed tears.

He took a steadying breath, his voice low but firm. “I’ll do it,” he said, his conviction unwavering. “I’ll make the vow.”

Evangeline took a steadying breath, “I’ll admit,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I’m relieved to hear that. But, Sebastian…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “If the only thing that keeps you from using dark magic is the fear of losing your life because of a vow, then you’re not doing this for the right reasons.”

Her words hit him like a sharp blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but she continued, her voice growing firmer. “We’ve sacrificed a lot for you.” She glanced at Ominis, who remained silent, his face unreadable but supportive, then returned her gaze to Sebastian. “We’ve kept your secrets, Sebastian. Risked our own standing, our own safety… and all for you. We’ve carried so much of your burden. And that’s why you need to want this for yourself.”

Sebastian’s throat tightened, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He knew she was right, that the vow alone wasn’t enough to repair what he’d broken. A vow bound him to a promise, but it couldn’t force him to change—not truly. That would have to come from him.

“I’m not saying this to be cruel,” she continued, her voice softening but her gaze unyielding. “I’m saying it because I want you to understand what we’ve put on the line for you. Please, don’t make us regret this.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the truth they carried. Sebastian clenched his jaw, his heart aching at the sheer depth of her disappointment—and her hope. He swallowed, nodding slowly, letting the gravity of her words settle within him.

“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I… I’ve put you both through so much. More than I could ever make up for.” He paused, feeling the weight of guilt and regret press down on him. “But I’ll try, Evangeline. I’ll be better. I'll be the friend you both deserve, I promise. I'll vow it.”

Evangeline’s expression flickered with surprise, her lips parting slightly as if she hadn’t expected him to agree so readily. Ominis took a deep breath, standing to retrieve his wand, his expression a mixture of gravity and understanding.

“Very well,” he said softly, his tone taking on an almost ritualistic quality. “Sebastian, if that's what you want, then you’ll make this vow with Evangeline as your binder. I’ll serve as the witness.”

Sebastian’s gaze shifted to Evangeline, and she hesitated, visibly unsettled. But when she looked into his eyes, searching for any trace of insincerity, she seemed to find something that steadied her. She gave a small, determined nod, then rose, extending her right hand toward him. Sebastian took it without hesitation, his grip firm, grounding himself in the warmth of her touch.

Ominis stepped closer, his wand held steadily over their clasped hands. “Sebastian, listen carefully to each term and answer with absolute conviction,” he instructed. “This is no simple promise. Breaking it will result in your demise."

Sebastian nodded, his gaze unwavering as he held onto Evangeline’s hand. He could feel her pulse under his fingers, steady and strong, and he took strength from that—knowing that this vow, this commitment, was the first step in proving how much she and Ominis meant to him.

Ominis placed the tip of his wand on their clasped hands and began the vow, his voice low but powerful. “Sebastian Sallow, do you vow to forsake the use of dark magic for power, choosing knowledge over mastery, study over action?”

Sebastian swallowed, feeling the weight of the words settle over him, then answered, voice steady. “I vow it,” he said, his conviction unwavering. Immediately, a thin stream of fire emitted from Ominis’s wand, wrapping around their hands with a gentle heat that held like an embrace, binding the promise to him.

Ominis continued, his words measured. “Do you vow to prioritize those who stand by you, to never choose the path of darkness over their well-being or safety?”

“I vow it,” Sebastian replied, his voice low but certain. Another stream of fire wove around their hands, intertwining with the first.

Evangeline’s fingers tightened around his, her expression softened, the wariness in her gaze shifting to something closer to belief. Ominis looked between them, his expression still firm but with a gentleness that hadn’t been there before.

“Finally,” Ominis said, his voice softening, “do you vow to pursue the knowledge of dark magic only for understanding, to resist the temptation to wield it for personal gain, and to honor this promise with your life?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, his voice filled with conviction. “I vow it."

The final stream of fire encircled their hands, brightening before fading, sealing the vow in a shimmering, quiet magic. Sebastian felt the power of it settle deep within him, a weight that was both heavy and freeing. He released Evangeline’s hand, the warmth of the vow lingering between them.

Ominis lowered his wand, looking between them. “It’s done,” he murmured, his tone soft yet resolute.

Sebastian nodded, a strange mixture of relief and humility filling him. He looked at Evangeline, and for the first time, saw something in her eyes—a fragile, tentative trust that he hadn’t dared to hope for. Her expression softened, though she kept her distance, as if afraid to let down her guard completely.

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. Ominis sighed, “I think I’ll take a walk,” he said, his voice gentle, though his expression betrayed a hint of worry as he glanced at Evangeline. “I’ll be back soon.”

Evangeline nodded, barely meeting his gaze. Ominis placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder before giving Sebastian a meaningful look. Without another word, he left the cottage, the door closing softly behind him.

As the silence stretched, Sebastian felt the full weight of Evangeline’s presence settle over him—heavy, charged, and filled with unspoken things. He glanced at her, feeling an urge to reach out, to say something that might bridge the chasm he had opened between them. But as his eyes found hers, he saw something flicker there, a flash of fear she barely concealed before looking away. It was a small thing, but it hit him harder than he could have anticipated. She was wary of him—afraid, even.

A knot formed in his stomach, guilt seeping through him like poison. He couldn't blame her, not after everything he’d done, not after what she had witnessed that night, after he’d—Merlin—after he’d killed his uncle. It was only then that he realized, really realized, that the sight of Solomon’s lifeless body haunted her as much as it haunted him.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Evangeline… you’re right to be cautious, after everything you’ve seen. But I swear to you…” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not… that person. I’m not who I was when I… used that relic.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the fire. But her arms slowly relaxed, unfolding from across her chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small signal that she was listening, even if she didn’t yet trust his words.

“I've spent the entire summer,” he continued, “pouring over books, searching through records, trying to understand what the relic did to me. I thought if I could figure out what went wrong, then maybe I could…” He trailed off, his voice thick with regret. “All that matters is that thing… it was only meant to take. And I let it take too much. It nearly cost me everything that mattered to me.” His gaze softened as he searched her face. “It nearly cost me you.”

Evangeline’s gaze flickered, a spark of curiosity mingling with the uncertainty. She shifted, leaning slightly forward as if the weight of her question was too much to keep within herself. “Did you… learn anything about it?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Anything about how it… worked? What it did to you?”

Sebastian swallowed, sensing what she was truly asking. She wanted to know if his actions—the choices he’d made, the lines he’d crossed—had been his own, or if the relic had twisted his will. He met her gaze, steadying himself before answering.

“Yes,” he said softly, gathering his thoughts. “The relic was… ancient, crafted by someone who believed that magic’s greatest strength lay in what could be sacrificed. It was created to heal, but not in any way that made sense, not like the magic we know.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “To heal, it required sacrifice, a toll. It… took something from whoever used it. Not just a physical price, but something deeper.”

Evangeline’s expression was one of rapt focus, though her eyes held a shadow of dread. He knew she was piecing together the implications, but he pressed on.

“It preys on desperation,” he continued, his voice thick with bitterness. “The more you’re willing to give, the more it demands. And part of what it takes is… your own will, your own sense of… control. Your humanity, even. It’s like you’re willingly giving pieces of yourself away, but you don’t even realize it until…” He trailed off, his eyes darkening as he remembered the last moments with his uncle, the terrifying clarity he’d felt only when it was too late. “Until there’s nothing left to give, nothing left to be. It’s just you and the magic, fused together in this… twisted purpose.”

A shiver ran through Evangeline as she absorbed his words, her expression shifting between horror and sorrow. “So it… it influenced you? Controlled you?”

Sebastian’s throat tightened as he forced himself to answer honestly. “No,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “Not exactly. It… amplified my desperation, my willingness to sacrifice anything to save Anne. But it didn’t make me do what I did. That was still me.” His eyes dropped, shame heavy in his chest. “It didn’t force my hand. I gave it everything willingly… thinking it would be worth it. And that’s on me, not on the relic.”

Evangeline’s gaze softened as he spoke, the lines of her face etched with sorrow and something that looked almost like compassion. “It preyed on you when you were at your lowest,” she murmured, her voice thick with understanding. “And you thought… you thought you could control it.”

He gave a small, bitter laugh. “I was arrogant. I thought I was strong enough to handle it, to… keep myself intact while using it. But I was wrong.”

Evangeline’s lips parted, but she said nothing, her expression shifting into something raw, uncertain. He could see the questions in her eyes, the doubts, and though it pained him to see them, he knew he needed to face them.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said quietly. “Not easily, anyway. I don’t deserve it. But I just… I need you to know that I’m done with dark magic. Not just because of the vow but because I’m done trying to control things that no one should have control over.” His voice softened, and he took a small step toward her, his hand twitching as if he might reach for hers but stopping himself. “All I want is to… find my way back. To you, to Ominis, to being the person who you put your trust in.”

Evangeline’s expression softened, the guardedness in her eyes easing just a bit. She didn’t reach for him, but there was something in her gaze—a gentleness, an unspoken forgiveness—that made his chest ache with both hope and regret.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice wavering, “I wish… I wish you hadn’t had to learn this the way you did. I wish you hadn’t lost so much… and I wish I hadn’t had to watch you lose yourself.”

He swallowed, his voice tight with emotion as he replied, “I’m so sorry, Evangeline. For what I put you through. For everything.”

Evangeline looked at him for a long while, the silence stretching out between them. Her gaze held a mixture of sadness, confusion, and something else—hurt, maybe, a pain she had kept buried. Finally, she took a breath, her voice steady but laced with an ache that made his chest tighten.

“Sebastian… why didn’t you come to Professor Fig’s funeral?” she asked, her tone soft but insistent, like she’d been holding back the question for months. “You must have known what happened. I… I could have died in the repository fighting Ranrok. And you didn’t even come to see if I was okay. You didn’t even check.”

Sebastian’s heart sank, her words cutting deeper than any curse. He dropped his gaze, unable to look her in the eyes as he struggled to find an answer that might make sense of his choices, choices that seemed so senseless now. He opened his mouth to respond but faltered, shame tightening around his throat.

“I wanted to,” he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought about it every day, wondered how you were, if you were…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as if he could smooth out the jumble of emotions tightening in his chest. “But I was… I was afraid.”

Evangeline’s brow furrowed, her expression hardening with a mix of disbelief and hurt. “Afraid?” she echoed, her voice brittle.

He flinched, words coming out stilted. "After everything I’d done, after all the damage I caused, I thought… maybe it would be better if I stayed away. I didn’t want to make things worse for you. I thought if I showed up—if you had to look at me, remember what I did—” He stopped, his voice breaking, then took a shuddering breath. “I thought it might only hurt you more.”

Evangeline’s eyes glistened, but her gaze remained steady, unwavering. “So you thought avoiding me would make things better? That I’d just forget what happened?” Her voice wavered, a hint of anger slipping through her grief. “Sebastian, you aren't just anyone to me. You know that right?” She paused, blinking back tears, her voice softening. "You're... you were my best friend, Sebastian. You were the one person I thought I could count on, no matter what. Especially after all the shit you put me through. And when I… when I needed you most, you weren’t there.”

Her words cut through him like a knife, sharp and unyielding, yet layered with a sadness that made his heart ache. He felt his throat tighten, each syllable pressing on the wound he’d tried so hard to bury. Best friend. The words felt fragile now, like something he’d shattered beyond repair.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. “I know I failed you." His voice broke, raw with the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say. “I was a coward. I should have been there. Evangeline, I can't tell you how deeply sorry I am. Truly.”

He wanted to reach for her, to bridge the gap, but he knew any move would be too much, too soon. Instead, he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I know I can’t erase the past,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes the rest of my life. I… I want to be worthy of being someone you trust."

Evangeline studied him for a long moment, her gaze flickering over his face as if searching for something—perhaps the remnants of the Sebastian she’d once trusted, the friend she’d relied on so deeply. He held his breath, afraid to move, afraid that anything he did would shatter the fragile moment between them.

Then, slowly, she rose from her seat, her expression softening in a way he hadn’t seen in what felt like lifetimes. She took a tentative step toward him, and he felt his heart pound, unable to process what she might do next.

Before he could gather his thoughts, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a gentle but unmistakably real embrace.

Sebastian’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t react, too stunned to even lift his arms. He’d spent months in isolation, cut off from everyone, from everything, and the warmth of her touch felt almost surreal, like something he had only dreamed about in his loneliest moments. He felt the solid warmth of her against him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t experienced in so long that it almost hurt.

After a second that felt both painfully brief and achingly infinite, he brought his arms up slowly, hesitantly, as if he might break her with too much force. His hands settled on her back, and he held her carefully, feeling the weight of her trust—the small, tentative step forward she was offering him.

Sebastian’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t react, too stunned to even lift his arms. He’d spent months in isolation, cut off from everyone, from everything, and the warmth of her touch felt almost surreal, like something he had only dreamed about in his loneliest moments. He felt the solid warmth of her against him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t experienced in so long that it almost hurt.

It was then that the ache in his chest flared into something deeper, sharper. The remorse, the regret, the longing—everything he’d been carrying seemed to rise to the surface, threatening to overflow.

“Evangeline,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry."

The words spilled out, raw and unguarded, his voice trembling with everything he’d buried beneath guilt and silence. But as he held her, something else—something deeper—surfaced alongside his remorse. A feeling he’d kept locked away, hidden even from himself, now slipping free in her embrace.

Sebastian’s heart hammered, his senses overwhelmed not only by her warmth and her familiar scent but by the realization that she was there, close enough to touch, to feel. And in that closeness, he felt the full weight of what he’d tried so hard to ignore for so long: he wasn’t just sorry for betraying her trust. He was sorry for nearly losing the one person he’d come to care for so fiercely it frightened him. He was sorry for letting his desperation take precedence over her, over their friendship, and, painfully, over the chance that there might have been something more between them.

The way she fit in his arms was achingly familiar, like a piece of himself he he never realized was missing until she filled it. The gentle weight of her against him, the warmth radiating through their touch—these things felt like both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of how much he’d kept hidden, how much he’d risked losing.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like if she stayed like this, if he could keep her close, safe, away from all the shadows he’d let creep into his life. He tightened his hold, pressing his cheek against her hair, feeling her heartbeat steady against his chest.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either. Her presence felt like forgiveness and reluctance in equal measure, and he knew that any chance he had of winning her trust again would be slow, delicate—a path he’d have to walk carefully.

But even if it took years, he knew he’d wait. Because he loved her, and as painful as it was to stand on this fragile ground, he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. If he had to start from the beginning, building back the trust he’d shattered, he would do it. And maybe, someday, he could tell her how much she meant to him. But for now, he settled for this one, fragile embrace, a small glimmer of hope that they might still have a future together, even if that future was yet unwritten.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

[lew1s-prix]

Seb following Lewis

Lewis posting Seb on his ig story

Them hugging

Seb explaining Lewis the Buzzin' Corner

Them supervising their kid's painting/drawing

Seb unfollowing Lewis

Lewis reposting their hug