#seven of wands/ic.

[xeno-graphical]

turning in early even if there is a party-- my birthday gift to sirius will be tomorrow's class notes it seems. good night all-- may the moon guide you:)

today's card is the eight of wands! a mighty struggle will soon be lisfted from your shoulders. but be careful not to act too hastily for this-- being calm but sure-footed will take you on the path you are meant to go. usually a yes, unless you were expecting a no.

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

Pick-a-Card Reading: What Positive Changes Could be Happening for You in the Next 6 Months?

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Cards

The High Priestess

The World

Seven of Cups

Five of Pentacles

Eight of Swords

Before I even shuffled the cards I kept seeing a key, like a bronze skeleton key floating almost like in a video game selection screen. That sounds weird I know, just disregard it if it doesn't resonate.

I feel like your intuition will definitely be strengthened with the high priestess card. If you have been trying to figure out what witchy path best suits you, don't worry because there are many you could go down and still get the results you're looking for. With the world card I feel like you will be learning a lot about new cultures, I also feel like if you've been trying to get into a program to go abroad for a semester of college this will either come through. Or you will have an experience close to the one you would've had abroad but in a different place.

Trust that doors that cannot be closed are opening for you and your path is cleared.

Cards

Ten of Cups

Seven of Cups

Page of Cups (Reversed)

Queen of Wands

Seven of Wands

If you've been trying to manifest love I feel like your happily ever after will be just around the corner 6 months from now. By this I mean 6 months from now you could be wondering "where the heck is my person?", then bam! Out of nowhere it's like they appear. You've put so much into bringing this love into this physical reality, praying, spellwork, meditations, you name it and I feel like it's finally finding its way to you! With the queen of wands I feel like this person will love your fiery nature or how motivated you are when it comes to achieving your goals. However, I do see that the work won't end once you've started a relationship with this person, you may be closed off emotionally and struggle to connect in that way. If you want to keep this relationship healthy you will need to address that but I feel that your person will be understanding as you are working through this issue. But if they sense that you've stopped trying to better yourself in this area they will withdraw from you and the relationship may end.

Take this time now to address any emotional issues you may have so that you can prepare to be a good partner. And also so that you can take better care of yourself.

Cards

Six of Wands (Reversed)

Justice (Reversed)

Knight of Cups

The Sun

Judgement

6 months from now I can see you realizing that something you thought you wanted, like really wanted incredibly bad but did not get. Was actually a blessing in disguise, while you only saw the good it would bring into your life, there were hidden aspects to this situation that you couldn't possibly have seen. I feel like this is something that just recently happened and you may still be sulking about it now. But in time you'll realize you only saw the glittery happy side of the situation but the divine saw it all. It reminds me of an iceberg where you only see a small amount of ice not realizing underneath there is an enormous structure.

Rejoice for what you didn't get and get excited for what is coming for you, what is actually meant for you.

Please let me know if your reading resonated and always remember not to make a decision based on a reading unless it's one you feel completely comfortable with. Thank you for visiting my tarot page!

All the best to you,

Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[greenboyfriend]

choose something cold... (tarot card reading)

"what do you need to know?"

image 1: it's cold. I mean, really cold. but your blood is warm, even if your fingers are blue. where's your soul? image 2: a framed painting depicting a wintry landscape, complete with a log cabin, whose blue smoke trickles from its chimney and blends in with the world around it. image 3: three ornate glasses, made of ice. are those cracks intentional? or just by virtue of its design? image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

there’s an opportunity being presented to you. it may be a celebration of some kind, or just something that has a lot of excitement surrounding it. what i’m getting most of all is that this may be a chance to find freedom. with the seven of swords reversed, maybe you’re the type of person to handle your problems on your own, “lone wolf” style. there’s a million reasons why someone might do this, but for you, you’re afraid or distrusting in others. when you opened up in the past, maybe it didn’t end up so well for you, and this has made you keep things mostly to yourself.  however, the four of wands reversed tells us that this lone wolf energy is blocking you from fully enjoying yourself. “freedom”, in this sense, is the freedom from yourself, or rather, your fear. in the original Rider-Waite-Smith deck, the seven of swords shows us a man with his arms full of swords, shirking off to his own devices. for you, these swords represent an unnecessary burden, being wary or even afraid of others to see your true colors/problems/ect. opening yourself back up again is a task much easier said than done, i know. but the 6 of cups shows us what this looks like, once fully realized. when we talk about our problems and emotions, we’re able to release and/or deal with them more easily. i’ve definitely been in the position of worrying endlessly about something, just to finally open up to someone, and realize that the answer was sitting in front of me all along. the six of cups represents this as having a “clean conscience.” being, you’ve released yourself from carrying a burden all alone, and have found freedom– the four of wands. finally, the king of cups reversed reminds you to have patience, and to be tolerant of others. not just one person can supply you with all the information or support you need.

(6 of cups, 7 of swords reversed, 4 of wands reversed, king of cups reversed)

2.・。.・゜✭

you’re in a period of transition, be that between attitudes or people. this change has you feeling down. maybe not emotionally destitute, but not in the best spot, either. as you wade through these waters, know that the queen of swords is by your side, and will lead you to better times. the queen of swords is someone with a good head on her shoulders, and will always tell the truth. she is very forthright, and doesn’t do any under-the-table dealings. she holds herself to these standards because of her past experiences, and knows that an honest, open approach will best suit her motives. you may embody the queen of swords already, and if you do, great! if you don’t, that’s ok, too. but it’s time to start really leaning into that kind of energy. don’t conceal the truth– both to yourself and others–, and let yourself have a laugh every once in a while! the thing about being experienced is that you know not to take everything so seriously. the queen of swords can see the big picture, and knows that, even if right now is tough, later will be much better. the place/person/vibe you’re coming from is represented by the knight of wands. i’m getting, cockiness– to the point where you/they were being presumptuous. this might also have had to do with someone being hot tempered, and restless, where they couldn’t handle being bored, so they’d decide to pick a fight. this energy is still here, but not necessarily causing harm just yet. what’s really impeding your path towards healing is the knight of cups. the knight of cups reversed is in direct opposition with the queen of swords, in the sense that he allows his emotions to take control of him, rather than accurately assessing the truth of his situation. he may let his imagination become overactive, and begin believing things that aren’t true. where the queen of swords faces all her dealings head on, the knight of cups may shade the truth, dance around the issue, or simply hope someone else will deal with it. he may also tend to isolate himself from others, which only worsens his imagination into spurring up unrealistic scenarios and focusing too much on his own “failings.” i’m thinking… you’re going to need to temper the knight of cups with the knight of wands. use that fiery, self confident energy to seek out the truth, rather than make assumptions. and, in turn, the knight of cups can help to deplete those feelings of restlessness through introspection. most importantly, keep your head level, and honor the truth above all.

(queen of swords, 6 of swords, knight of wands, knight of cups reversed)

3.・。.・゜✭

so… there’s a lot to unpack here, image 3! i’ll start with this, the energy of the queens of wands and of pentacles are important right now. the queen of wands seems to be especially important, urging you to work hard to maintain her optimism, confidence, and enthusiasm. this situation will require you to be a sort of “soft” leader for others, where you can be looked to for inspiration. if you’re able to serve as a role model through keeping your head up even when the going gets tough, and to do so with strength and vigor, it will not only help you and your purposes, but will also inspire those around you to do the same. the opportunity to embody this energy is not fully here yet, but once you hear the call, you’ll know it’s for you. strike the iron while it’s hot and give it your all! no time for dilly dallying. in being a leader (even if you’re not completely cognizant of it) you will have to temper your generosity with what you know to be true. so, for example, if someone is late to a meeting one time, you may give them the benefit of the doubt. but if they’re continuously late, some changes need to be made. this can also apply to other situations, where you will need to decide between your loyalties and what’s true & just. you may have already experienced scenarios like this in the past, so it will help you to call back to those times for foresight. doing what is fair may be difficult in the moment, but will lead to the best outcome. the queens come together here to guide you on your way. keep trying! you know that you’re resourceful, so don’t be afraid to try your hand at solving problems. it may also benefit you to remain down to earth during this time, and not to try to control what others think or say. at the end of the day, you are your own person, and what a wonderful person you are!  finally, we arrive at the page of cups. i’m getting a very loving, forgiving energy from this card. it may benefit you to invite that energy into your life, both towards yourself and others. when a challenge faces you, or someone is less than nice, decide to turn away that anger with love. consider, what may compel them to act this way? maybe they’re going through something you don’t know about. it’s not that you need to nurture them back to good health, but realize that maybe, they’re just not worth your time, and a simple nod & turning of the cheek will do you both some good. most of all, listen to your intuition to tell you whether or not this argument/situation is really worth getting into.

(queen of wands, 8 of pentacles reversed, 8 of wands reversed, queen of pentacles, ace of swords, 3 of wands reversed, page of cups)

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How JJK Characters Love (As Told By Tarot)

tags: gn!reader, tarot, headcanons a/n: it was only a matter of time i decided to drop another tarot headcanons post. the last one i did was in march, i think? and the last time i did one for jjk was way back in 2021. so i figured i might as well drop another one before the year ends for the nanami, toji, gojou, getou and choso hoes. deck: prisma visions tarot & true black tarot

kento

king of swords, the high priestess, ace of wands, ace of swords

is a love a feeling or love a choice? that's a loaded question with many a subjective answer. if one to ask kento, he would likely answer the latter. with an occupation as dangerous as his own, it has to be. choosing to be so intimate with another is a choice one cannot take lightly. he can say with confidence that loving is you is a choice he doesn't regret in the slightest. kento's love is one that is honest, decisive and a love that seeks to know every part of you. there's a soft innocence to his love as he seeks to be someone you see as more than just 'the boyfriend'. he's your friend, your lover and your peace just as you are to him. you're partners. there isn't more that he could ask for than that. just as he seeks to know the beautiful, ugly and unknown parts of your person, he will open the door to allow you to view those parts of himself as well. his is a love that is patient and everlasting.

toji

knight of wands, queen of wands, the sun, three of wands

to toji, you're his light. the gentle rays that kiss the earth at dawn and the warm caresses of heat that thaw ice. he's in awe in how you shine, in how the flowers bloom at your very step. fushiguro toji isn't a follower by nature. he leads and that's that. but he'd follow you out of the darkness that cloaks his life and into the luminescent world you wish to bring him into. love doesn't come easy to this man. whatever he wishes to hold close to his chest inevitably seems to be torn away from him by a force twice as strongー so he'll hold onto you that much tighter. his love can be rough from his scars and callouses, brash and clumsy from his words, but toji is a passionate lover all the same. moving forward and looking to the future is one of toji's best strengths; he looks to his future with you with warmth he hasn't felt in a long time.

satoru

the star, three of cups, the fool, eight of wands

there's an unspoken loneliness to being the strongest, to being the one everyone has come to expect the superb. it's not a surprise, it's the standard. as such, love like this is unexplored territory for the strongest sorcerer. love is vulnerability, love is embracing both the known and unknown factors and it's allowing yourself to be connected in a way he normally wouldn't. he doesn't have to be the gojou satoru the strongest with you and that fills him with more joy than he'd expect when this is the life that has been engraved into him the moment he opened those six eyes of his. let the chalices of love be raised; let the water in them spill over and spill over more onto the green earth in a raucous revel all can bear witness to. the string that connects you doesn't have to be red, satoru will paint it in your own colors as they keep you joined through the times good and bad. when he falls, he falls and he isn't scared of the drop. he knows he'll stick the landing.

suguru

seven of cups, ace of swords, nine of cups, five of wands

suguru has a dream. a grandiose dream that many may deem impossible but it is a dream that pierces the essence of his very being. and it's a world suguru wants you to be a part of. a utopia that you can live a precious life that isn't constantly under threat by the impure majority he seeks to rid the earth of. it doesn't matter if your ideals are in direct conflict with his ownー suguru would rather hurt you in the short term if it means giving you a beautiful future in the long. you're pure in his eyes, pure and precious and he will reshape the world into something fitting for someone such as yourself. you'll want for nothing with suguru, he's a generous lover. he seeks to spoil that who he loves and he's got the passion to back up his flowery words. your cup will never go empty, you'll never know hunger and danger is something that will never come to your person.

choso

page of chalices, six of swords, the empress, ace of pentacles

choso knows loss and has experienced tragedy first handー that loss is what taught him how to cherish what he has. there's nothing more important to him than family and you're part of his. his love is one that's quiet but it resonates through your entire being because it's all in the little details. off hand comments about things you like, the way your eyes linger on things you want. choso notices it all and acts accordingly. words aren't this man's forte, so he makes sure you know how he feels through all of his actions. choso loves freely and easily, giving every part of himself to you just as he does for anyone he cares about. he doesn't have much to give beyond himself and the small but precious family he has. you won't find a more dedicated lover than this one right here when he embarks on such a journey.

[justpoliteconversations]

Running Circles [Reader + ???!Link]

The Chain faces an abnormality, and the tired soul it was dumped on. Chaos ensues.

Just another self-serving throwaway for the pile. Can you guess which Link this is for?

Masterlist

TW: I'm not responsible for anything the tiny bastard does. Read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

He was loose. Again.

In a moment of weakness you'd shut your eyes to rest and the little gremlin had slipped his harness and rolled his way out the room. A closed room, with one door, no windows and the key secured to your palm with leather straps.

With a tired groan you pushed yourself out of your bedroll, gathered the empty leash and harness around your wrist, took the key from its bounds and opened the door to...

A portal. Because of fucking course there'd be a portal out here in the middle of nowhere. Of course. That was just the story of your life these days.

You sighed, rubbed your sleep encrusted eyes with both palms and straightened your shoulders. You stood there for a few moments longer, stealing yourself for the chaos you'd surely find on the other side.

You just wanted five hours. That's all you ask. Five hours of uninterrupted rest. Hell, you'd be thankful for three.

No helping it though. The longer you waited the worse the situation would get. The man-boy-gremlin-(divine entity?) worked fast after all, and it'd be amidst for you to dally.

So begins another day. You entered the portal.

---

You were right. This was fucking insanity. There were lines of fire criss-crossing the battle-scarred land, ice pillars as far as the eye could see shining in the moonlight, broken weapons littering the ruined battlefield and whipping through the air on strong gales of wind. An honest to Goddess dire wolf was dashing though the chaos, fading in and out of the shadows with a sword in its maul.

Ah. But let's not forget the six(?), seven(?), no, 11 uncomfortably familiar looking men being rattled around like leaves in their plainclothes. Occasionally, they'd strike at the blur of unprecedented destruction running amok in their campsite when the opportunity presented itself.

And that familiar little blur had some sort of wand in his hand (you certainly hadn't given the little demon that), and was waving it around like a goddessdamned lunatic. In his wake, dust and embers and the glint of weaponry took flight in great glittering swarms, adding to the general mayhem of the situation.

Someone was screaming over the howling of the wind, but their voice was lost to the hurricane. A man fighting through the whirlwind of disheveled blue scarf face-planted into the ground with a startled cry, a small humanoid shape on his back before it was gone again in a swirl of movement.

A tall man with bright facial tattoos had jumped to the scarfed man's aid through the torrent of buffering wind, but not before the little agent of chaos had managed to snatch the scarfed one's sword off his back. Behind them, a man with heavy scarring was panting laboriously, drenched head to toe in stamina potion(?) and long hair coated in seed-like grains. One eye was sealed shut by some sort of glutenous substance, running down in great, blue blobs from his bangs.

The familiar cry of triumph drew your attention away from the trio, only to land on the spectacle that was four identical men being blasted across the clearing with a flick of the (magical?) stick. The sight of thier brightly colored tunics flashing over the (somehow still intact) fire pit drew a sigh from your lips.

Behind you, a boy in a lobster shirt whipped by with a half terrified half enthusiastic squeal, arms bound at his sides with his own belt and a deku leaf attached backwards at the buckle. A man in a white cape chased after, sweat pouring down his face and plastering twig laden hair to his forehead. His mouth was open in hard, labored pants, face flushed with the effort as he swat away any debris heading for the trapped boy swaying viciously in the gales before him.

At least the little bastard remembered your 'no-killing unless necessary' agreement. There was that, if nothing else.

The dire wolf was back (still carrying the damned sword), a shirtless, darker haired man mounted upon it with a red glowing sword strapped to his back in a leather harness. They were charging at the small figure latched on the tattooed man's back plates, while said man was struggling like a bucking stallion. The scarred one was trying to pluck the unruly little shit from his perch against the taller man's armor, aborting several strikes to avoid hitting the taller man by mistake.

The shirtless man astride the wolf bellowed in rage(?), confusion(?), delight(?) and dive tackled the unrepentant little leech, drawing his sword midair with a determined glint in his eyes. The wolf leaping right after, like a shadow at his heels.

The shithead dodged, of course. He always dodges. Though using the tall man he'd been harassing as a living meat shield was a rather ungentlemanly thing to do.

Wrong-footed, the shirtless man barreled into the scarred one with a painful thwack, sending them skitting across the field and unintentionally tripping up the caped man. The wolf followed shortly after, unable to stop, its bulk catching the tattooed one in the crossfire and slamming them both into the pile with wince-inducing force. The young, airborne one yelled down at them, but his voice was carried away with the wind that yanked him into the air with sudden vigor.

Ah. The little hell spawn was latched onto lobster boy's belt, the scarfed one's sword in hand, the wind stick between his teeth and a truly massive sword strapped to his back (where the hell had he got that from?) as they ascended up, up, up into the growing storm.

You finally noticed a pantless, screaming man clinging desperately to an off white glider far above the campsite, kept from simply blowing away by a long, dark rope made near invisible against the night sky. It was attached to a decent sized log, occasionally rolling when struck by oncoming debris and causing the man far above to curl ever tighter around the glider bar. The flash of his pale legs were the only indication of his movements so far into the darkness above.

The scarfed one had finally managed to right himself, and with a glance you could see the reason for his disorientation. The scarf wasn't just tangled around him, it had been half-hazardly tied around his face, neck and one unfortunate arm in several tight knots. He was further hindered by some form of red whip wrapped around his thigh, across his waist and into the loops of the scarf.

Okay. This had gone on long enough. With a great, near painful breath, you cupped you hands around your mouth and called. "LINK!"

High above the chaotic swirl of magic induced winds stopped and the familiar swoosh of misplaced air rang out in the sudden calm. Something falling (many, many things falling) caught your ear, and in the span of one breath to the next, he was before you. Him in all his beady eyed glory.

"HAA!" The irritating creature voiced at you, listlessly flat stare fixated on your tired eyes. You blinked, unimpressed. "HAAAA." He said louder, waiting expectantly for you to answer.

You sighed, tiredly, pulling your hand down your face once before taking another fortifying breath. You felt a tiny hand tug at your shirt, and when you looked back down he had tilted his head in question. He looked almost innocent, little ears perked up and curiously blank face almost cute in its simplicity.

The slow descent of once air bound hyrulians coming down to ground spoke otherwise, but it was whatever. He hadn't seriously maimed anyone, and that was an improvement. it was progress.

"Yeah. No one died, just like we agreed." You conceded, reaching out and ruffling his shaggy hair with a small, tired smile. A blush rose to his cheeks, a near smile of delight on his lips as he held your shirt with both hands. "You did a good job, buddy."

"Haaa!" He voiced with pride, pleased to have done a good job this time.

He turned, about to head off again, but you managed to grab him by the arm before he could escape. His previously happy smile dropped dramatically when he realized he'd been caught.

"Nope. I said you did a good job, but that doesn't mean you get to be off the leash." You said in reprimand, turning him this way and that to properly put his harness on as he half-heartedly struggled in your hold. He fought a little harder when you took the weapons from him, but he eventually relented when he saw your unhappy face.

Though that didn't stop him from frowning and stomping his foot in tantrum when you took the great sword from his back. That was it though, so you'd count that as a win in your books. He hadn't even threatened to bite you this time.

In the distance the dirtied, ruffled and clearly traumatized men were finally starting to pull themselves together. You paid them little mind though, instead plucking the pouting little hero from the ground and tucking him into your arms. He immediately hid his face in your shoulder, but didn't stop pouting. His little ears were pinned back angrily, arms crossed at the chest as he 'haaaa'd loudly in complaint.

You patted his back in comfort and he melted into it trustingly, burrowing himself into your hold with little huffs of equal parts annoyance and contentment. There was a commotion in the distance that finally drew your attention, ignoring the small man-boy-creature (divine agent of chaos and destruction?) as he began to fidget in your arms.

The tallest one looked panicked, the scarfed one (newly liberated from his bonds) just as much so. The pantless one was suddenly pointing at you, eyes wide and thin brows hiked high in shock as he begun to yell.

"That little demon's got it!"

Confusion settled over you, and then sudden, heart stalling understanding. You whipped your head down in panic, angry at yourself for not having checked his goddess-damned pockets.

You were met with the sight of a brightly lined, white-haired mask slipping onto the little hell spawn's smugly grinning face. His victorious little 'Haaa' lost to the sudden explosion of light and power flooding your senses.

Tense silence. When you regained your bearings, it was to the feeling of large, unyielding arms around your waist and braced under your thighs. Holding you securely to a broad chest and even broader shoulders.

A glowing white stare met your confused gaze when you finally opened your hazy eyes. Those unblinking, otherworldly eyes were set into a handsomely stoic face, complete with thin, down-turned lips and a straight nose. Ominously similar tattoos lined either side of the unknown man's face and crest down his forehead.

Someone was yelling in the background. Several someones.

"Hn." The unknown man hummed monotonously, still staring at you with those seemingly listless, blank eyes. So very familiar.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Deeply.

'Fuck me. Not another one.'

---

Back to the shadows.

[the-angels-share]

In which Xiao gets the childhood he deserves. A Grandpa Zhongli and Xiao adventure.

Out of all the seasons, Xiao loves summer the best. Not only does he get to stay up an hour later than usual, he gets to do things he normally couldn’t the rest of the year. For example, during summer, Xiao gets to sleep in as late as 10 in morning. He can go to the beach and eat ice cream and build sandcastles without worrying about homework. He can watch TV and play outside for as long as he likes, as long as he gets inside the house by twilight. Most importantly, he gets to stay in Grandpa's house for a whole month.

Xiao's Grandpa is Zhongli. Zhongli is the Geo Archon. That means Xiao's Grandpa is the coolest, most awesome being to ever walk the planet. And Xiao gets to spend thirty (30) days with him. Just him and his Grandpa.

No one else in all of Liyue gets to experience that.

Xiao has spent a total of two days in his Grandpa’s house when he receives his first mission as a Guardian Yaksha.

The mission? Make a new friend. Location: The children’s park.

Xiao’s not gonna lie. He did not expect such a daunting task for his first ever mission. However, if there is one thing that Xiao has learned in his eight years of life, it’s that adepti assignments are to be accepted and seen to completion, whether they are given in Rex Lapis’ office or at the breakfast table over a plate of brown rice and grilled fish.

Which is how Xiao finds himself in the park two hours later, clutching his Grandpa’s slacks like his life depended on it.

Don’t misunderstand, though. Xiao is a brave boy. But sometimes, even brave boys get scared too. He’d much rather stay beside his Grandpa, where he can cling to his leg and be safe from the curious glances of the strange mortals in the sandbox.

“Don’t forget your weapon.”

Ah, yes, his weapon. Xiao wanted to bring one of his Grandpa’s many polearms, but Zhongli told him that the Primordial Jade Winged Spear is simply too long, too heavy, and too sharp for eight-year old boys to carry, even if they were adepti. So, he gave Xiao a jumbo bubble wand instead.

“Go on,” Zhongli tells him once Xiao finally let go of his leg. "Remember the plan."

Right, the plan. Xiao racks his brain for the battle strategy he made with Rex Lapis himself on their way here. Look for your target, wait for an opening, and when you’re ready, engage.

And so, Xiao does exactly that. Tightening his hold on the bubble wand, he takes a step forward and scans his surroundings. There, by the swings, stood two blonde kids around his age, blowing bubbles with their own soapy weapons. Target sighted.

Now for the rest of the plan.

Xiao turns to Zhongli. "Don't leave, okay?"

His Grandpa smiles and pats his head. "I'll be at the bench if you need me."

Xiao nods and walks ahead. Well, here goes nothing.

.

.

.

Ninety minutes later, Xiao goes home with two brand new friends, a play date plan for next week, and a gold coin for a job well done on his first ever mission as one of Liyue's Guardian Yaksha.

As Geo Archon and oldest of The Seven, it is only expected that Xiao’s Grandpa would keep a lot of treasures in his house. And, well, Xiao’s not claiming to be a treasure expert, but you know what they say.

Where there’s treasure, there’s a guardian.

That’s where Azhdy comes in.

Of all the odd things in the Geo Archon’s house, the most peculiar one is Zhongli’s pet, Azhdaha.

Xiao is not sure exactly what kind of animal Azhdaha is. His Grandpa says Azhdy is a dragon, but he looks more like a dog to Xiao. Either way, Xiao thinks Azhdy is the coolest, most awesome pet ever. (Even if his name is a little hard to spell).

Some people think Azhdy is scary, but really, he’s just a clumsy creature who’s a little too spiky and excitable. It’s true! Azhdy has funny eyes that look in opposite directions. He can’t see very well, and that’s why he always bumps into walls or people. But that’s okay, because it doesn't matter where Xiao is in the house—when Xiao says, "Azhdy, come here", the sound of heavy paws on hardwood floor will reverberate in the whole house, becoming louder and louder the closer he gets.

The sight of Azhdy running towards him never fails to make Xiao smile. Which is why he doesn’t understand why most people look just about ready to call the Millelith whenever Azhdy pounces on his little body to give him wet dog kisses.

There are days that hold a special place in Xiao's heart. For him, that day is Thursday. It's not because of any particular event or tradition. No, it's because Thursdays mean one thing: spending the most time with his super-duper amazing Grandpa.

For some reason, Thursdays seem to be the day when Zhongli spends the most time at home, away from his duties as the Geo Archon. And for Xiao, that means having his Grandpa all to himself for the day.

As the evening draws near on Thursdays, Xiao eagerly awaits the highlight of his day: bedtime. Not because it means the end of the day, but because it's the time when Zhongli sits by his bedside, tucking him in with gentle hands, a warm smile, and a pat on the head. Sometimes, Azhdy joins them too.

In those quiet moments, the world outside fades away, and it's just Xiao and Zhongli, and sometimes, Azhdy. While Zhongli spins tales of dragons, warriors, and dumplings, Xiao finds out very quickly that the crinkling of old book pages and Zhongli’s smooth baritone are much more effective sleep aides than the bedtime story itself.

Xiao never knows when he dozes off, if his Grandpa ever finishes his story before he starts dreaming. But every time, he wakes up with Zhongli and Azhdaha gone, replaced by the comforting scent of tea and breakfast in the air. It feels like a warm embrace, like he's loved and safe with Zhongli and Azhdy nearby.

Those Thursday nights (and Friday mornings) are the best.

The big building on Wangshu Street, Xiao learns, is called Wangshu Inn. Inn spelled with two (2) Ns. It means hotel, Grandpa Zhongli tells him one day.

Sometimes, when Xiao has been exceptionally good and Grandpa Zhongli feels particularly nice, they go to Wangshu Inn for a bowl of almond tofu. Xiao loves almond tofu, especially the almond tofu from Wangshu Inn.

How Xiao came to like the sweet treat is actually a funny story.

When Xiao was five, he got lost. It was Lantern Rite and he and his Grandpa were out and about on one of their holiday afternoon walks. Captivated by the vibrant sights and sounds around him, Xiao had wandered off and couldn't find his way back to where his Grandpa was.

Of course, being an adeptus, Xiao hadn't been scared. (He was terrified.) Like a brave and dependable Guardian Yaksha, he took it upon himself to look for the correct way home. (Xiao wandered aimlessly, tears welling up in his eyes.) And just as the day began to turn into night, a calming presence had enveloped him. It was Zhongli, his Grandpa!

He had found him amidst the crowd.

Xiao remembers his Grandpa picking him up from under his arms and rubbing his back to soothe him. Then, he brought them both to Wangshu Inn where they shared a bowl of almond tofu.

"You're okay now," his Grandpa had said. Xiao doesn't remember being not okay, so his Grandpa must have been talking to himself. He must've been super scared when he turned and found Xiao missing! He guesses even cool, strong, Geo Archons like his Grandpa get scared too sometimes. (So, maybe it's okay to say that he felt a little bit scared too when he couldn't see Zhongli anymore back in the harbour.)

Xiao doesn’t remember much of that day, but he does feel a surge of warmth and comfort with every spoonful of the soft sweet treat.

In the neighborhood where his Grandpa lives, there's a girl named Hu Tao. She's a bundle of energy, always running around with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Hu Tao is Xiao's... not-friend friend, but whenever they meet, she's full of jokes and stories she's read from whatever book she was devouring that week.

She's smart, just like Grandpa Zhongli. She reads those big heavy books he sometimes sees his Grandpa read on quiet afternoons at the den. She says big, hard to say words, like quick sonic (quixotic) and disk consulate (disconsolate). Sometimes, she recites poems with rhymes and more words Xiao doesn't quite understand. It's okay, though, because when she does, she smiles, and when she smiles, Xiao smiles too.

Hu Tao has a pet bunny named Boo Tao. Boo Tao is a fluffy little creature, but too small to play with Azhdaha, so they settle for sitting together in the grass, sniffing flowers and watching the world go by.

Xiao thinks Hu Tao is pretty. He's not quite sure what "pretty" here means, but whenever she laughs, it feels like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Sometimes, when the sky is gloomy, Grandpa Zhongli takes Xiao to the cemetery.

Xiao’s only seen pictures of Granny Guizhong but with all the stories that Grandpa has told Xiao about her, it’s as if he’s met her too.

He makes sure to water the Qinxin flowers Grandpa keeps on Granny's grave. He'll take care of the flowers so Granny does not get sad.

Next time, he'll add Glaze Lilies too.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, Xiao's hand finds Zhongli's, his small fingers entwining with his grandpa's sturdy grip. His Grandpa smiles down at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Shall we see what the harbor has in store for us today, Xiao?"

Xiao nods. He'd be a dummy to say no to Rex Lapis. With a gentle lift, his Grandpa scoops Xiao up into his arms, granting him a bird's-eye view of the lively street below. From this vantage point, Xiao marvels at the vibrant tapestry unfolding before him—the dancers twirling in graceful arcs, the acrobats defying gravity with breathtaking stunts, and the musicians serenading passersby with their melodious tunes.

He thinks he can see Hu Tao and the twins there too.

As the end of summer draws near, the yard of Grandpa's house becomes a haven for crystalflies. Amidst the delicate dance of these enchanted creatures, Xiao clings tightly to Zhongli, his small form nestled in the safety of his Grandpa's embrace.

With each passing moment, the inevitability of parting weighs heavy on Xiao's heart. As his parents arrive to take him home, Xiao buries his face in the crook of Zhongli’s neck, unwilling to let go of the warmth and comfort he finds there. The air is filled with the soft whispers of crystalflies bidding farewell to the departing summer, echoing the bittersweet emotions swirling within Xiao's heart.

Summer has passed, and before Xiao knows it, it's summer again. Out of all the seasons, Xiao loves summer the best. Not only does he get to stay up an hour later than usual, he gets to do things he normally couldn’t the rest of the year. For example, during summer, Xiao can go out on walks with Azhdy while the citizens of Liyue look on with amazement at his very big, very cute pet. He can sit by the park and see if a girl with long pigtails and pretty eyes happens to pass by. Most importantly, he gets to stay in Grandpa's house for a whole month.

Xiao's Grandpa is Zhongli. Zhongli is the Geo Archon. And Xiao's most favorite thing in the whole entire world is him.

[oncasette]

knock, when you’ve got the time

WHEN HE SEES ME I — neighbor!jamie tartt x fem!reader

summary: 4.7k.

you were less than excited to go on this blind date, far less, due to the fact that it'd been sprung on you out of the blue by your best friend. at least, that is, until you get on said date, and realize that the guy is everything you’ve been looking for. he’s sweet, he’s funny, he listens when you talk. but, he’s far more experienced than you, which is where your neighbor comes into the picture.

content: i’m american so the dialogue might be awkward at points, jamie lives in an apartment-style complex rather than the house he’s renting in the show, takes place in season 2 post reality show, pre-richmond

main masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

You feel like your chest is going to explode. 

“You did what now, Keels?” you manage to gasp out. 

“It’s just a date, babes,” she says. 

“A blind one!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she pauses to sip her tea. “I wouldn’t have set the whole thing up if I didn’t think he was a good match for you.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust her; god, you’re ninety-percent sure you trust her with your life, it’s just that

“I haven’t seen you date anyone since…”

“Martin.”

She rolls her eyes, “Martin.”

“He wasn’t so bad…” you trail off, voice picking up an octave as the sentence droned out of you. 

“He was a douchebag, babes. Grade-A. And, anyways, you need to get back out there. You’re super-fucking-smoking-hot. There’s no reason you should be cooped up all alone in this flat of yours. At least, if I have anything to say about it,” she says.

“What if I don’t want… to go on this date?” you ask. And in your head, you think it sounds like an entirely valid question to ask. Warranted, even. It’s a short lived thought when Keeley shoots you a look of fire and death. 

“So not an option, babes.” 

Your head drops, forehead thumping against the wood of your kitchen table. 

“He’s super hot… He’s funny…” she trails off. 

“Keeley, I haven’t just been single since Martin,” you say, muffled, face smushed into the countertop until she places a hand on the side of your head to tilt it just enough to allow you to breathe through your nose fully. “I haven’t gone on anything even resembling a date since Martin. I’m totally out of my wheelhouse, here.”

“Oh, lovey, it’s gonna be alright,” the hand previously on your face falls to rub circles on your back. “I’ll help you get ready, I’ll walk you to the bar. I will even sit with you until he shows up, if that’s something you like.”

“But-”

“No, buts! C’mon, you need this! It’ll be amazing and fabulous and fantastic, and if it’s shit you can tell me all about how you told me so after, while we eat a pint of ice cream and watch some shitty, unrealistic romance films at my place,” she says. She stands, abruptly, nearly tugging you up from your own chair in her midst. 

“What?”

“Let’s go. Bedroom,” she urges, only stalling to gauge the bewildered look on your face. “Did I forget to mention that your date is this evening?”

“Like, when this evening?”

“Seven?” she scrunches her nose as she checks the clock on her phone.

“It’s five!” you gape at her as she drags you to your closet of helpless, unsuspecting clothes. 

The rush of it all saves you from harping on too many of your nerves. Keeley’s sitting on the lid of your toilet telling you all about the guy she’s setting you up with as you shower, she’s tossing every semi-decent outfit you’ve got into a heap on your bed for the two of you to rifle through, and she’s sitting behind you with a curling iron as you do your makeup on the floor like you were in secondary school again. 

She nearly burns you while you’re putting on your mascara. It’s a miracle the wand didn’t go straight into your eye. 

By the time you were ready–actually ready, too, and not the “ready” you’d tried to pull past Keeley four times before that–your body felt like it’d been through the ringer. You were primped, polished, curled, exfoliated. You had on heels that, while, thankfully, you could walk in, you hadn’t worn in years and a dress that showed off more leg than you would’ve chosen for a first date. 

“Do I have to go?” you ask for what feels like the hundredth time. She rolls her eyes, shoving her thumb into your hip as she zips up the back of the dress. 

“Yes.”

“But-“

“You are going on this date and you are going to have fun and that’s all I’m gonna hear about it.” It felt like you were arguing with your mother about a toy at the shop. 

“Right, you look stunning,” she says as angels the two of you towards the body-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom. She stands behind you, arms linked around your waist. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. Her lips press into the dimple of your exposed shoulder. 

“You are going to be the kick-ass, sexy, bombshell bitch I know you are, and you are gonna charm the pants off this bloke.”

“Yeah?” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth for a second, allowing it to pop back out with minimal damage to your lipstick when Keeley playfully taps you on the hip. 

“Yeah,” she hums, pulling her body away from her hold on you. “Come on, then. We should get going.”

It’s a short walk to the bar she’s picked out, one the two of you have frequented plenty over the last year or so of your friendship. It was one of the quieter joints, even on weekends. Kept just enough patrons to keep the doors open, but was slow enough that you could hear yourself think. 

Keeley sets the two of you up at the bar after scanning the joint, sure that you’ve arrived before your still-unnamed date, before signaling over the bartender to order a round. 

“For the jitters,” she says as she grabs the glasses off the counter and hands yours to you. You nod at her, downing nearly half of the gin and tonic in one go. 

“Fucking hell. Feel like I’m gonna shit myself, Keels,” you say, clearing the lump from your throat as Keeley chokes on the drink in her own hand. You can’t tell if it's a laugh or a cough or something in between, but once she’s gathered herself and wiped the martini off the counter, she’s facing you with a concerned look. 

“Right, look, I get you’re nervous, but what’s up? I’ve never seen you like this,” she says. You’re thankful the fabric of your dress is dark enough to mask sweat as you rub your palm across your thigh. 

“It’s just– I don’t know,” you exhale. You swirl your drink around with the tiny black straw you’d initially ignored in the glass. 

“Sounds like you do know. So, out with it,” she says. 

“What if he’s…” you trail off. Your throat conjures up another lump just for the hell of it. “What if he’s…”

“Out with it, babes,” Keeley urges. She places her martini glass on the counter before swiveling on the barstool to give you her full attention. 

“You know, like,” you swallow. “What if he chews with his mouth open or is constantly on his phone all night. Or, or what if he’s chatting with other girls just, like, right in front of me? Because Martin used to pull that shit all the time when we were in situations like this, and-”

You’re cut off by Keeley.

“You’re totally overthinking this.”

“I know.” An exhale. “I know, I know. I’m not even really that freaked about all of that if I’m being honest.” It all spills out of you like word vomit. Each sentence inching up your throat, hot and sour like the taste of bile as you spill your fears out. What if he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met, what if he’s a kiddy doctor, or some other profession that’ll just send your ovaries into overdrive, what if he’s-

“God, what if he’s fucking perfect?” you groan. 

Keeley doesn’t elect to respond, instead dropping her hands from where they’d been resting on your knees and standing. This draws your attention. You look at her first, shorter than she’d just been when she’d been on the elevated barstool, then turning your gaze towards where hers seemed to be. Past you. At the door. 

“Grayson!” she squeaks. She half-jogs over to the door, pulling the very tall man into a swift hug that he reciprocates with vigor. 

What if he’s got eyes so dreamy you’re sure to get lost in them at some point tonight. Holy hell. 

Keeley turns back to you, dragging Grayson over the few feet that separate you from the door, and, consequently, him, before she introduces the two of you. 

“Lovely to meet you,” he says just as you’re stumbling out of your seat to greet him properly. 

Your shoulders lean forward as you perch on the toes of your feet. You’re completely unsure of yourself. If he was going to go in for a hug, you’re sure he would’ve done so already, even a handshake. You’re half expecting him to swing into Keeley’s previously occupied stool when he clears your brain’s rambling with a kiss pressed to the apple of your cheek. 

“Good to meet you, too?” you squeak out, steadying yourself with what you later realize is a hand on his chest. A hand you pull back probably too quickly seconds later, smoothing out the bottom of your dress. It only takes a second for his fingers to graze your wrist, for him to pull your hand back up to shake it in a real greeting. He takes it in his, hesitantly, at first, and you swear you feel a shock transfer between your fingers. You even think your shoulders jump, but your brain is so fuzzy, just from the proximity, you couldn’t be certain.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been here before, but there’s this drink-”

You’re already moving to pull away when he uses your conjoined hands to gently tug you into him, effectively punctuating your statement with an oomph. 

“There’s a nice table near the back if you want to head somewhere more… private,” he says. His breath fans across the side of your face, lips inches away from the shell of your ear as a shiver trickles down your spine. He knows your favorite bar like the back of his hand.

You faintly hear Keeley say, “Guess I’ll leave you both to it, then.” And you have half a mind to wave or say goodbye or even check and see if she left the bar, but you can’t when all of your focus has been siphoned to the man in front of you. She could’ve lingered and gaped at you for the rest of the night and you likely wouldn’t have noticed.

He leads you the short distance to the back of the bar from behind you, hand lingering on the small of your back in a way that just barely brushes against you. Enough to know it's there, that he’s guiding you, but not enough to truly feel him. 

You’re nearly vibrating when you reach the secluded standing table. Your drink is still in your hand, quarter full and sloshing as your knuckles wrap around the glass. 

The conversation fizzles as you try to spark it. Your mouth opens and closes with the start of various sentences dying at the end of your tongue as your brain attempts to put pen to paper and get anything out. 

“Have you known Keeley long?” he asks after a couple more failed attempts, tossing a lifesaver out to sea. 

“A year, nearly,” you smile at him. 

“Yeah?” he nods, tipping back the beer you definitely don’t remember him ordering. God, you were really losing it. 

Humming out an affirmation, you ask him, “What about you? Childhood besties?”

“No, no,” he snickers. “Though I’m sure that would’ve been interesting, I met her at this bar actually? A couple weeks back.”

You’re not sure if you feel betrayed Keeley came to your spot without you or grateful that she’d been able to conjure the man in front of you in the time you’d spent apart. 

“She spilled her drink down my shirt and somehow, in the span of the few minutes we’d spoken, had convinced me to come on this date,” he leans forward as he speaks, weight resting on his elbows. “Telling me all about how pretty her friend was. And I have to say… she undersold you.”

Your face heats under his gaze. “Is that so?”

“Who would I be to lie to a beautiful girl like you?” he asks. You have to clear your throat to gather yourself. 

“Not too bad yourself,” you admit. 

“Thank you,” he nods. “Wouldn’t want you to be too out of my league, huh?”

You shake your head and you hate how dopey your smile comes out. It's like you’re caught in a lovesick daydream just watching yourself talk to this guy. You’re quick to change the subject.

“So, what is it that you do for a living, Mr. Lee,” you drag the straw of your drink into your mouth. If only just to have something to do with your tongue, something to focus on anything other than the veins running up the backs of his hands and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he talks. 

“You’re pot on with the whole Mr. Lee thing, actually,” he chuckles. 

You quirk your head to the side in question.

“Teacher,” he says. 

“Teacher.” You raise your brows at him. Not Professor. Works with kids. 

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re just a lot hotter than any of the teachers I had growing up,” you say, and your heart stops beating for a minute as it gauges his reaction. That last part definitely wasn’t meant to come out. It was supposed to be said at negative twelve volume in the deepest, darkest crevice of your brain so that you couldn’t even hear it. When he laughs, though, you feel the muscle regulate itself, skipping a beat or two until it's back in its usual sync. “And what is it that you teach?”

“History.”

“So you could tell me all about the Great War if I asked?” you ask. 

“No,” Grayson chuckles. “I actually teach local history. Mostly Richmond, some greater England.”

“Sounds fascinating,” you say, even though you’re more than sure if you’d been forced to sit through one of his classes you’d hang onto every last word. With claws. And a harpoon gun. 

“It can be,” he shrugs. “It wasn’t my first choice, anyway. I had wanted to teach something less British. But it was hard enough to find a gig close to home in the age range I was qualified to teach and in the end I just wound up cutting my losses.”

“And counting your blessings,” you say. 

“And counting my blessings,” he repeats. 

The conversation starts to flow easier after that. He asks all the right questions at all the right times, he pauses and laughs and migrates closer to you across the table until your–no longer white–knuckles are gently brushing against each other. He tells you about his sister, about his childhood dog, his obsession with trivia games. 

“You’re kidding,” you’d gasped, nearly knocking your second drink–one you’d been too busy giggling to guzzle–right over the side of the table. 

“Tuesdays are my favorite night of the week,” he says as he gestures to the chalkboard pinned to the back wall of the bar outlining the events posted for that week. Tuesday night trivia was a mainstay. 

He lets you go on and on about the movie you’d watched last night, about how many times you’d seen Dirty Dancing and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He asks follow up questions about Patrick Swayze and Matthew McConaughey, about why everyone had called her baby in the first place and why Kate Hudson quit her job at the end of the movie. He even goes as far as to say, “You’ll have to show them to me sometime.”

It’s just when the nerves are finally wearing down that a girl appears at your table. And with your newest distraction, you move to check your phone. Your clock blinks back at you with a new message from Keeley you don’t check. It’d been two hours since you’d shown up at the bar. Your shoulders feel sore, suddenly allowed to bear the weight of the hour. 

“Jeanette,” you hear Grayson say. His tone is tight, a harsh contrast to the gentle timber you’d gotten used to over the course of the evening. His lips have drawn themselves into a thin line as he shoots you a sympathetic look. 

“You never called me back, you know. I left you a message,” she says as she curls her neatly manicured hands over his bicep. 

“Thirteen, if I remember correctly,” he says. 

“Same difference.” She shakes her head in a way that pushes her curls back to fall over her shoulder. 

He uses the hand not caught in her grip to gesture towards you, introducing you to the platinum blonde before continuing, “You’re sort of interrupting our date.”

Pulling back, she looks embarrassed. Shockingly. It’s like she’s just now seeing you despite the permanent place you’d held at the table for the entirety of her visit. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, Gray,” she says, and as she moves to pull away from your conversation, she puts a hand over the side of her face to not-discreetly whisper “He does wonders with his tongue” with an even less discreet wink. 

You hear yourself say “That was interesting” just as Grayson spills out “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” you question. “It’s fine, really.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he sighs. 

“What, does it happen to you a lot?” you ask, and you honestly mean it as a means to break the uncomfortable, meeting his former–or not-former, you truly didn’t know him that well, now that you were thinking about it–hook-up. 

“You’d be surprised,” he groans, and he has the gall to look less than cocky about it. Cocky you could handle. Confident, even. 

“Try me.” You absolutely, positively did not want to be tried. 

“Look,” he starts, saying your name softly. “I wasn’t going to veer anywhere near this topic tonight because I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to steer the conversation towards sex. I’ve been around the block, sure, but when–and if–we ever hit that… subject, I want it to be for us. I would want it to be whenever you were ready for it all to happen.”

Nodding, you swallow. Oh yeah, he’d “been around the block” alright. Who would ever lie about this like that. 

“I’m good with that,” you smile at him. A smile he, thankfully, is quick to reciprocate, dropping his hand to cover yours where it rests on the table. 

“Good.”

Your eyes start to feel fuzzy before either of you have called the evening to a close. Static builds up in your tear ducts and a numbness creeps up, licking at the back of your skull. 

This was insane, you were insane. This was not the kind of information you cried over. You manage to pull yourself together to end the evening with a smile, putting your number in his phone with a smiley face at the butt of it, and allow him to kiss you on the cheek at the door of the pub before you split off in different directions. 

He’d offered to walk you home, nearly begged, but you’d assured him you’d be fine to walk the block and a half back to your flat. Besides, you ease yourself, you never invite a bloke back to your place on the first date. Wouldn’t want to give Richmond’s newest serial killer prime information on your whereabouts. 

How were you meant to work with this? It wasn’t that you were a virgin, or anything. You’d had sex. Once. When you were still a teenager with your so-called boyfriend at the time who’d dumped you the very next day. You hadn’t even finished, unsurprisingly. It had been embarrassing for you at the time, how you’d done your best to convince yourself that some girls just don’t cum from sex. 

You reach your flat before you realize it. The key in your hand shakes in time with your fingers and you manage to put your back to the door before your knees give out beneath you. Every part of you felt weak, unsupportive. Overwhelmed. 

Honestly, you weren’t even mad that he’d been around. With a face like that, it’d be a wonder–and a red flag–if he hadn’t. It’s just that you’re so… inexperienced. Women your age should know their body, should know how to use it. The only aspect of sexuality that you’re familiar with is the vibrator stuffed in your sock drawer. And even that was a gift from Keely. 

You bring your hand up to wipe your face, attempting to look somewhat presentable to the public as your neighbor sweeps past you to unlock his door. The back of it comes back sticky with snot. Your neighbor’s stride stutters, back foot planted to the floor for a hair too long just before he’s spinning on his heel to face you. 

“Are you alright?” His hands are stuffed into the joint pocket of his jumper. 

“Fine,” you hiccup as you bring your knees up to rest against your chest. 

He frees his hand from the pocket only to stick it out in your direction. “Jamie Tartt.”

“I know who you are,” you scoff, nearly choking on the giggle that bubbles up with it. “Think everyone with a telly knows who you are. Or, like… a phone.”

His hand lingers in the air for a second, twitching towards you until it resigns itself back into the pocket. 

“Did you wanna talk about it, maybe? I make a mean cuppa,” he gestures back at the foot behind him that leads to his front door. 

It’s the longest conversation you’d had with the footballer. Usually you’re given little more than a nod and a shut door as he lets another girl into his flat or brings his groceries in. Though, now that you’re really thinking about it, the former had dwindled significantly in recent months. 

Either way, you shake your head. “Wouldn’t want to intrude,” you sniffle. 

“No, no,” he assures you, going as far as to take that step closer to you. His hand extends out to you again. “I insist.”

You manage to stand on your feeble legs, following Jamie into his flat with your own keys still in hand. 

“How long you been sittin’ out there?”

“Not long,” you hum, clearing your throat in the process. He grumbles out something you don’t have the heart to ask him to repeat as he moves around his kitchen. His hair is longer than you remember it being during the last match you’d caught at your parents’ house and the dark locks fall over his eyes as he puts the kettle on the eye. Then again, that Man City game hadn’t been the last time you’d seen him. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks. 

You don’t have the energy to be coy. 

“I don’t know how to fuck,” you say. Jamie’s hand twitches as he puts your cup down in front of you. 

“Sorry?” he coughs. 

“This guy I went on a date with earlier,” you say. “While we were out, he got stopped by this girl he’d been seeing and she made a comment about how incredible his tongue game is and then suddenly we’re talking about how many people he’s had sex with.”

By the time you finish that sentence you’re gasping for air and Jamie is looking at you expectantly. 

“No offense, but why would that matter?” he asks. 

“I haven’t had sex since I was eighteen? I have no idea what I’m doing, you know?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t know. I’m very experienced, actually.” he raises his eyebrows at you as he says it, making the comment seem less like he was bragging and more that he was… easing your nerves about the whole ordeal. You’re not sure if it’s totally working for you or not, but you manage to maintain eye contact as you bring the cup up to your lips. 

“I’m sure being a premier league footballer heartily prepares you for this kind of thing,” you say, sipping.

“I mean, yeah, but I was kinda referencing something else,” he says and you decide it's best for your own sanity to play dumb in this case. You know, not let him know you’d seen him fuck his way through his short run on Lust Conquers All. 

“And that is…” “You didn’t see me show?”

“I don’t watch reality TV,” you lie. Of course you’d seen his run. Everyone had seen his run. Even if it has been through a mix of very flattering and very unflattering gifs on Twitter. 

“How d’ya know it was reality TV?” he asks with a cocked brow.

“Hunch,” you shrug. You sniffle as you hold your cup in your lap, both palms held tight to the warm porcelain. 

You watch him meander around his kitchen, feeling somewhat comforted by the fact that its a mirror of your own, as he mulls over the information you’ve given him. It wasn’t like you were expecting him to do anything with it. You hadn’t expected to tell anyone about it, if you were being frank, but Jamie had caught you at a fairly vulnerable moment outside your door.

“I think I’ve got an idea,” he declares. 

“Proceed.”

“I could help you with your little problem. Ya know. With my expertise,” he says. 

“Such a fancy word for a footballer,” you say with a bite.  

“Right hilarious,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, back to my idea.”

“Your idea… about teaching me how to have sex?” you ask, nearly incredulous at this point. 

“No, not how to have sex,” he starts. “Just…” “How to have sex,” you finish.

“Look, right, you said it yourself. You lack experience,” he shrugs. “I can help with that.”

“So, what are you wanting me to do? Drop my dress to the floor and beg you to fuck me? You don’t even know me,” you say, not even totally sure yourself where the hostility is coming from. 

He shakes his head, placing both hands flat against his kitchen island to face you fully. 

“We could get to know each other. I’m just throwing ideas out there. It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow, or fucking ever, really, but if you decide you want me to help you with your little… predicament, all you have to do is knock on me door, yeah?”

Swallowing, you bring your eyes up to make eye contact with him. What the fuck was going on? In the span of, what, six hours, you’d been thrown into a blind date with a guy ripped straight from your dreams, discovered said dream-guy was overwhelmingly into you, discovered same said dream-guy had slept with half of Richmond and some of Wales, and had your neighbor proposition himself to you after finding you sobbing outside your front door? Were you in an episode of The Twilight Zone? 

You look down at your cup before bringing it up to down the small amount of liquid left within it in one gulp. 

“Predicament is another fancy word. You’re on a roll,” you say after you’ve swallowed down the amber liquid. You make a move to stand, arranging your keys in your hand so that the key that opens your front door is pinched between your thumb and your index finger. 

“I’m smarter than you think.” He follows close behind you, opening the front door for you to step out into the hallway. 

“Should’ve told your showrunners that,” you say, facing him for a second before you’re pushing the key into the lock and opening your own flat. 

“So you have seen the show,” he says. 

“Goodnight, Jamie Tartt,” you reply. You hear a muffled goodnight through your door seconds after you’ve clicked it shut. 

As you drop your belongings in their designated spots and kick your shoes off by the door, you bring yourself to look at your notifications. 

Keeley MF Jones

Hope you’re having fun!!!! Text me when you’re home and safe xxx

A new message rolls in just as you bring your finger across the screen to unlock it.

Keeley MF Jones

I’ll take it that my lack of response means that the night ended well ;)

Love you, babes! Stay safe!!

I want all the details tomorrow!!

Pausing, your fingers dance an inch above the keyboard before finally typing out a phrase. She doesn’t need to know everything.

My lips are sealed. 

[eastwindmlk]

For day 6 of @jilytoberfest another outside POV. Prompt: Making Food together/Food Disaster. Word count: 567

It wasn’t often that Sirius caught an early night. -With that he meant that he was asleep before three. - Tonight he’d come back home from a mission brief at around ten and simply collapsed into his pillow, too tired to bother doing more than discard his cloak and boots. So, when the mirror on his bedside table started to flash on the uncivilized hour of seven past four in the morning he, for just a moment, squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to ignore it.

The bright flash stopped and James’ panicked voice roused him better than any instant cooling hex ever could. He shot up, raking his hair out of his face while he reached for the mirror. One hand temporarily stuck in his mane, a ring caught on a particularly nasty tangle.

“Sirius? Sirius are you there?” James’ voice, tired but demanding echoed to the room he swore he was going to decorate but never found the time for. Making him crawl towards the light, his eyes watering when his best friend’s face, framed by the bright kitchen light came into view.

Sirius groaned, eyes adjusting to the brightness while he nodded. “Prongs, are you okay? Do you need me there?” His tongue was still waking up and stumbled over the rushed words. He shifted uncomfortably, the leather of his wand holster still digging in his side when he reached for it, ready to apparate right out of his room. He calmed down a little when he noticed that James was looking remarkably calm for someone making a four o’clock call in wartime.

“Everyone is… fine. Sort of, no need to run just yet,” James chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he did when he was considering apologizing.

Before he could, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief and offered a playful glare and stretched back out on his bed. “Thank Merlin, you scared me there,” he sighed and waited for James to continue. “Well, don’t go back to sleep just yet. I… need a favour.” Sirius raised a questioning brow and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Okay, hit me!”

James chuckled awkwardly. “So, Lily has this craving and she literally cannot sleep because of it,” he yawned and rubbed at one of his eyes tiredly. “Which means I am not sleeping either until I fix this.”

“James, you know I love you, but I don’t know if I can help.” He’d always help if he could. It just so happened to be that he did not spend all that much time in the kitchen, not with the current state of things.

There was something in the way James looked that made him shoot his friend another look. Clearly, he had a plan and whatever it was, Sirius knew he was going to go along with it because it was James and Lily.

“I was hoping you’d be up to…” The sentence trailed off and for a moment it was silent. Then James spoke so fast his words were stringing together. “You’d be up to waking up Florian and getting Lily her bloody ice cream.”

Sirius massaged the spot over his eyebrow for a moment before hoisting himself out of bed. “Right, any flavours in particular?” he sighed, his shoulders cracking and his back making a popping sound while he stretched. “Let’s get our girl some ice cream!”

[blueraineshadows]

Blood Bound Part 7

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️ Leander Prewett

Whilst Sebastian falls even deeper into darkness, MC heads into the Ministry for the return of her wand. Drowning in her own struggles, faces from the past offer glimpses of light in the darkness as she gravitates even closer towards her Auror.

14.7k words. Tags: NSFW / Violence / dark magic / torture / physical injury and self harm / murder / mental health struggles / sexual tension / angst

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Taglist at the end

Seven: Full Dark, Hints of Stars

Sebastian 

Night was settling over London, shadows deepening in the twists and turns of Knockturn Alley, and the clientele in The Black Rose pub were just getting started. It was the place to go when one wanted to escape reality for a while, losing oneself within the alcohol and the boys and ladies of the night. The bar room was a heated, rowdy crowd, raucous laughter driving Sebastian into the calmer and more private area at the rear of the pub, seated in a quiet corner whilst those in Rookwood’s inner circle sat around the large table and played their cards. 

Sebastian twirled his whiskey glass in his hand, the amber liquid shimmering in the glow of the lamp light, the burn of it on his tongue from the few sips he had taken tempting him to drain the fiery brew and scorch out the gloom that settled around him like a familiar cloak. Brooding over his run-in with Anne, he couldn’t shake that old fiend loneliness, his chest aching with the need to feel like he belonged somewhere. It curled and coiled like a snake, waiting to strike at him, tearing him up until the call of the whiskey or the fighting pit won out.

Where was she? Where was MC?

Nobody had seen her, no sightings by those he had asked, and none of the members of the gang had heard any whispers where she was concerned. It was like she had vanished as soon as she had stepped out of that cold fortress, and Prewett had disappeared with her. Skulking around outside the Ministry in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the Auror had turned up nothing. Another visit to Weasley proved fruitless, and Andrew Larson was annoyingly close-lipped, merely promising to pass on another message and nothing more.

Someone had to know where she had gone.

Pulled from his moping thoughts by the sounds of a struggle outside the door, he turned his head in that direction as some of the gang members began to stand. The door burst open, Marvolo dragging a whimpering man in with him, Rookwood strolling in behind them, his blue eyes like chips of ice. Sebastian fought the urge to sneer in disdain at the theatrical stroll that Rookwood cut as he crossed the room, seating himself in a chair next to Carrow who was taunting the young, male whore he favoured. 

All attention was on Marvolo as he shoved the trembling man to the floor, brushing off his black velvet waistcoat as if it had been tainted by the poor wretch, the harsh lines of his face frozen in a look of hatred as he stood menacingly over him.

“Behold, ladies and gentlemen, we have discovered a rather nasty little rat in our midst,” Rookwood said, gesturing towards the man on the floor. Sebastian sat up for a closer look, his eyes narrowing. “This rat has been whispering in the ears of our good friend, Auror Harrington. Now, what do we think about this?”

Sebastian put down his glass and stood, stepping forward slowly. He recognised the name of that Auror. He had seen it written in the visitors ledger at Azkaban next to MC’s prisoner number, and he had seen the man himself down in the pits with Prewett. As his boots drew closer towards where the man had got onto his hands and knees, Sebastian slid his wand from his holster. He recognised the man as one of Rookwood’s messenger runners. He would have known details regarding the prison break, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had blabbed the news to the Auror.

The tip of his wand touched under the man’s chin, making him flinch, his eyes reluctantly looking upwards at Sebastian’s face. “You told them we were going to get her out, didn’t you? You let me go into Azkaban knowing that Aurors would be aware of it.”

“N-no, no,” he protested feebly, shaking his head as tears flooded his eyes. “I didn’t tell them that.”

“You told them something, though, didn’t you little rat?” Marvolo hissed, swinging a foot to kick at the bloke’s side, sending him sprawling to the floor again. “Dirty rats who squeal get punished. How should we punish you, hmm? Perhaps we could remove your tongue so that you can’t spread secrets anymore.”

Sebastian felt the shadows closing in. All the darkness that he tried to fight back began to curl around him with welcoming arms, pushing inwards and making him quiver with anticipation. His fingers flexed slowly around his wand, and he shifted his gaze towards Marvolo, who met his eyes with a cold smirk.

“He almost dropped you in it, Sallow. He told the Aurors about the prison break. It probably led to them moving our little witch out of our reach,” he said, his words dripping with icy malice. “Hurt him.”

Staring down at the rat, his shadows beginning to smother him, Sebastian raised his wand arm, the darkness blooming in his eyes as he aimed. They had taken MC away because of him. It was his fault. The words were like a whispering mantra, twisting through his head as he summoned the desire needed to do what had to be done. Cold calm slid over him and his eyes narrowed, his intent so fierce that he barely registered the look of horror on the rat’s face as he flicked his wrist, the end of his wand blistering with red.

“Crucio!”

The screams that filled the room seemed to echo off the walls, a horrifying sound that made shivers travel down Sebastian’s spine, like fingernails down a blackboard but a million times louder. The coldness and terror of Azkaban seemed to flow through his veins, the image of the old hag spitting and screaming on the stone floor filling his head as the man writhed on the floor before him in a cruel mimicry. That coldness seeped slowly towards his heart, the thud of its life force filling his ears as darkness claimed him for its own. He felt the pull of it, the urge to intensify the pain inflicted as the yearning filled him to see MC’s face.

For her. He would do anything for her. Even this.

His hand twisted, and the screams became broken, high-pitched sounds that had the others in the room wincing and turning away, but Sebastian kept steady. He couldn’t seem to let it go, all the turmoil trapped behind his ribs, channelling down his arm and through the end of his wand in a scorching blast of red.

“Enough,” Marvolo said firmly, his hand grabbing at Sebastian’s wrist, his fingers cold and hard. He met Sebastian’s eyes, his glare dark and glittering with warning, jarring Sebastian out of his trance. “Enough.”

Blinking, the black fog clearing a little, Sebastian looked down at the man on the floor, breathing harshly at the sight of the blood coming from his nose and mouth. Shocked, he relinquished the spell, his hands shaking as he took a step back and rubbed a hand over his face. The realisation that he had almost lost himself there for a moment made him shudder. Casting a glance around the room, he realised that everyone was staring at him, there was fear in the depths of the eyes of a few, but Rookwood was watching him with a cold curiosity that made him grit his teeth and straighten his spine.

“It might be worth those present noting not to cross you, Sallow,” Rookwood said silkily, rising to his feet. “That was quite the performance.”

Sebastian remained silent, but a few others in the room exchanged looks and stepped back. Breathing heavily through his nose, Sebastian kept his feet planted despite the wobbly feeling in his legs. Rookwood turned his gaze towards Marvolo and gave a subtle nod.

Marvolo calmly took out his wand and aimed at the twitching, garbled mess of a man on the floor. The poor bastard had pissed himself, his fingers in the shape of claws as he tried to gather himself against the pain riddled agony his body had endured. Sebastian felt the first glimmers of shame sink through him and expected death to erupt from Marvolo’s wand as the final blow. But, he was wrong.

“Magicus Extractio,” Marvolo uttered, his voice frigid calm as wisps of silvery white swirled from his wand and made for the man’s chest.

The room became utterly silent as the man arched up off the floor, the agony on his face almost too much to bear as Sebastian felt horrified realisation slam into his mind.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Six years ago, he had persuaded Ominis to open the Scriptorium below Hogwarts, a day he would never forget. In doing so, he had laid hands on a most valuable spellbook. A grimoire written by the hand of Slytherin himself. Delighted and hungry to devour the secrets of such a man, Sebastian had spent hours poring over that book, committing to memory some of the darkest words to have been inked that he had ever seen. 

With fascinated horror, he fixed his eyes on Marvolo, the cold mask of his face eerie from the glow of his spell casting. Marvolo had Slytherin’s blood in his veins. Like Ominis, he was a descendant of that most clever but dark souled man. Clearly, it was more than blood that had been passed down through his lineage. The grim satisfaction on Marvolo’s face made Sebastian swallow hard as strands of light began to be extracted from the man on the floor.

It was as Sebastian had suspected. The incantation had been exactly the spell he had remembered, and he was frozen still with the horror that Marvolo dared cast it. This was a fate worse than death for a witch or wizard, to have one’s magic syphoned from their bodies, robbed of their abilities and their birthright by the casting of a most dreadful spell.

The man could do nothing but struggle feebly like a rag doll as his magic left his body, gathering above him in a swirl of golden light, the threads of it glittering and shimmering with such beauty in the room. Sebastian felt the burn of tears in his eyes, his horror turning to bitter grief as he imagined such a thing being done to him. It was unbearable to even imagine, and yet he did nothing. He stood there and watched as a wizard was robbed of something so personal and precious.

“It worked,” Rookwood said with awe, moving closer to stare at the beauty of the magic, reaching out a hand towards it. “Now, all we need to find out is how to absorb it.”

Sebastian stared in shock. “Absorb it?”

His words may have been breathless, but Rookwood heard him well enough. He turned sly eyes Sebastian’s way. “Of course,” he said softly. “It would be a shame to waste such power. Don’t you agree?”

“We don’t know the spellwork for that part yet,” Marvolo said, shrugging. “But, we will. For now, sadly, this one is useless.”

With a flick of his wrist, he cast towards the shimmering magic swirls, and they engulfed into flame, burning away quickly until nothing was left. Gone. 

Sinking back down to the floor, the man looked wasted, drained and empty, his eyes glassy as he stared unblinking up at the ceiling. Rookwood frowned down at him and nudged him with a polished boot. “Oh dear, it would appear our little rat is dead,” he said, without a sliver of remorse to his tone. He turned to one of the men standing nearby. “Get rid of him, will you? I’d rather not have him stinking up the place.”

Rookwood and Marvolo were both cold bastards, their indifference almost harsher than the brutal acts they performed. Watching the essence of the man's magic evaporating into flames had been gut churning enough, but it made bile burn in Sebastian’s throat as he wondered what Rookwood had meant about absorbing it. 

Sebastian began to back up, rubbing his forehead as he tried to process what he had just witnessed, his heart thudding so hard behind his ribs that he was fighting for his breaths. Turning his back on Rookwood and Marvolo, he heard the scramble as the deceased man was hoisted from the room, no doubt headed out to become a cadaver for the Body Snatchers who loitered at the far end of Knockturn Alley. Grabbing up the glass he had put down before, he threw back the contents, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it went down. 

Killing a man would be kinder. To extract his magic was quite another. The violation of it had left Sebastian speechless, and he felt as though the water level had enclosed over his head. He was drowning in darkness, his eyes wide and unseeing as he tried to get hold of himself. 

Unable to bear the enclosed grimness of the room a moment longer, he headed for the door, slamming it open and striding with purpose down the hallway. He vaguely heard his name being hollered after him, but he kept walking. He didn't even know where he was headed, and when he found himself in a shadowed alleyway, the brick dark and the air foul, he stopped. Bracing a hand against the rough brick, he bent forward and retched, losing the contents of his stomach as shameful guilt slammed him from all sides. 

He hadn't even asked the man's name. He had wrought such pain on him, blamed him for MC being missing, and then stood by as Marvolo sucked his magical ability from him. The savageness of such acts had been too much, and the man had lost his life, the ultimate sacrifice unwillingly given. 

Eyes burning, a whimper left Sebastian’s lips as he shrugged his left arm from his jacket and unbuttoned his cuff, yanking up the sleeve of his shirt to expose a tally of black lines on his inner forearm. The first tear escaped his eye as he fumbled for his wand, and he sniffed it back, gritting his teeth as he aimed to scorch one more black line in the tally. 

He groaned, his breath hissing through his gritted teeth at the sting of it, but he berated himself for being such a coward. This pain was nothing compared to what he had inflicted on that poor soul. Once the new black line had been added, he stared at the marks on the inside of his forearm, stark against the paleness of his skin. He may not have dealt the final death blow, but he had played a part in that back there. It was worthy of the added reminder.

His count of lives stolen was growing, and he fought back the burn of more tears, too scared to imagine how many more lines he may need to add before his revenge was done. It was always said that the first one was the worst, but he carried the guilt of every single one.

Pulling down his shirt sleeve and straightening his jacket, Sebastian wiped the dampness from his cheek, the shadows draping him in a darkness he feared he would walk in forever.

This couldn't be all there was. He had never meant for things to get this bad. He had never meant to go this far. He was losing himself day by day. He closed his eyes and thought of Anne, imagining her looking well, her skin glowing with health and happiness. He thought of MC, her smile, the way her eyes used to twinkle when she met his gaze, the fire in her soul when she fought at his side.

Oh, how he ached for both of his girls. This was all for them. 

He took the blood amulet locket from his pocket, his thumb caressing the joined blood of the pact, the ruby red stone still managing to shimmer in the utter dark of the alley. He brought it to his mouth, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to it in a kiss, clinging on to the bond it represented to try and ease the gaping hole of dark in his chest. 

Looking upwards, he tried to seek out the glimmer of the stars, but as usual, the smog of London obliterated such beauty. He was down amongst the scum and filth of the city. How he longed to be out of it, but where would he go? Back to that empty, cold house in Scotland? There was nothing for him there. Only memories that ripped at his insides. No, he needed to be here. He needed to find MC and finish Rookwood. He needed to cure his sister. 

Straightening up, he turned back for the main path. The night wasn’t over yet. There was still work to be done. 

MC

The bustle of witches and wizards passing her by as they arrived and exited the Ministry was a cacophony of noise that seemed unbearably loud after the desolate silence of the beach house. MC felt the now familiar tightening of apprehension as she watched all manner of people about their business, unconsciously taking a closer step towards Leander, who walked along beside her. Unperturbed by the crowds, he walked with confidence, even nodding his greetings to some as they made their way past many Floo network fireplaces. 

After so long in solitude, it was going to take some time getting used to being around so many people. 

Not one to let her insecurities show, MC set her face into one of careful neutrality and walked onwards, the effects of the speedy Floo Travel giving her legs a wobbly sensation. Looking up and around, MC's gaze took in the grandeur that was the Ministry Atrium, glossy tiles and polished wood floor, a curved arch of a ceiling lending it a feel similar to the style of the new Underground train stations. It was her first time in this part of the Ministry, and she took the opportunity to soak up everything that she had missed out on when they had hauled her to the prisoner holding bay in the depths of the establishment. This world of magic still had the power to amaze and awe a person.

Today, she arrived as a visitor. Still accompanied by an Auror, but here for a more positive reason than the arrest of murder. Today, Leander had brought her here to return her wand into her possession. The hunger and anticipation to hold it in her hand gave her the strength to hold back her anxiety at being so exposed in public, to be reunited with her wand would surely mean to feel whole again.

Pausing by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, she took a moment to listen to the spray of the water, the droplets shimmering on the gold of the statues. The one of the centaur reminded her of the time she had spoken to those who lived in the Forbidden Forest. It led her thoughts towards Poppy, the girl who had joined her on more than one adventure to protect beasts. Wondering where Poppy was now, MC wrapped her arms about herself, conscious of the curious stares fixed on her from those who had taken notice of her presence. 

She had seen the article in The Daily Prophet announcing her release into the world, her prisoner photograph printed for all to see. A murderer, free to walk the streets. There was no outright hostility on the faces turned her way, but none of them bore smiles either. No doubt those she had once called friends would be the same way, blank and indifferent towards a girl they thought they had known, but she no longer fit into their lives.

A light touch to her elbow made her look up, Leander’s soft gaze unfailing as he nodded towards a security desk. “I need to check you in as a visitor, and then we can go down to the basement level to collect your wand. Are you alright?” 

Taking a steadying breath, MC nodded and let him escort her towards the desk, his touch at her elbow so light it was barely there. Sliding a sideways glance up at him, her gaze lingered over the neatly combed hair and close shaved skin, his mouth invitingly soft as he smiled at the witch behind the desk. Ever since the kiss they had shared in his kitchen, he had been so achingly polite, courteous, and kind. 

It had been what she had wanted, what she had asked for, and he was respecting her wishes. He was a true gentleman, acting cordially and respectfully, despite those moments when she would catch his eyes and have the breath stolen from her lungs at what she found there. 

He would hide it quickly, turning from her, a flush spreading across his cheeks and up his neck. Despite the complications that would arise from anything developing between them, she could not help but wonder what may have been had she knocked on his bedroom door that night. 

Despite her past misdemeanours, she had the feeling that Leander felt something towards her, and whatever form those feelings took, surely it wasn't a stretch to hope that others would accept her, too. Watching him present his Auror badge to the security witch, her gaze lingered over his hands, hands that had touched her with kindness and desire, a flutter of warmth dared to kindle in her chest. 

Through the coldness of her loneliness and despair, perhaps she had nurtured some feelings for him, too. Fearing what that could mean, she hurriedly pushed those thoughts aside, not ready to examine the teases of warmth that glowed whenever she allowed her barriers to slip.

“Sign here, please.” The cool, firm voice of the security witch pulled MC from her thoughts, making her look into a pair of eyes that seemed hard and distant. “You need to sign the form to gain entry without a wand. I shall notify the Criminal Stores Office of your pending arrival.” 

Hardening her features against the obvious disapproval on the witch's face, MC picked up the quill and signed her name on the dotted line, taking pride that her hand did not shake in the process. The parchment immediately folded itself into the shape of a bird before flapping its papery wings and taking flight, soaring off and upwards to join many more swooping above their heads. 

“Let's go,” Leander said, lightly touching her elbow again. “We need to take a lift down to the basement level.” 

Crowded into the rear corner of the lift as others began to pile in, MC stood rigid, her palms sweating at the close confinement as the lift lurched into motion. Her stomach dipped as the sensation of fast movement made her wobble on her feet, her hand darting out to steady herself and finding Leander’s robe. 

He glanced downwards as her fingers curled into the fabric, the momentum of the lift pressing her against his side. Their eyes met, and she swallowed hard. “Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“Not to worry,” he said, the faint smile on his lips accompanied by a blush as his hand positioned itself at her back to help steady her. 

Even here, in a lift filled with Ministry workers who could hear and see everything, he was supporting her, refusing to let her flounder and fall. A gesture that was one of simple kindness, and yet it had the power to make her throat close with emotions too huge to deal with right now. It reminded her that he was the only anchor holding her steady as she readjusted to outside life, and it occurred to her that one day she would have to let him go. Lowering her gaze from gold flecked, brown eyes, she grit her teeth and waited for the lift to stop. 

After 3 stops, her hand was still holding tightly to his robe, and the warmth of his palm on her back was a little too comforting. The urge to lean her head against his chest had been strong, but she had remained rigidly upright. As the last remaining witch and wizard who were with them disembarked, Leander’s hand slid away.

“This is us,” he said, nodding out at a shadowed corridor she recognised. 

Reluctantly, she let go of him and followed him out into the tiled hallway, the dark green gloss of the tiles reflecting light in an eerie glow. The last time she had walked along here, she had been in chains. 

Memories crashed through her head of that day, the weight of the chains, the burn of her eyes from the tears she'd cried. Sebastian’s pleas to let her go still ringing in her ears after they had ripped her from his desperate grip. She remembered the fury of the betrayal, Anne’s lies leading her towards a sentence serving time for a murder she didn't commit. 

Her breathing quickened as the memories swamped her, her hands twisting anxiously as she tried to block the image of Anne’s face from her thoughts. How could she not hate that manipulative bitch?

The searing burn began to snake through her blood, her pact to never hurt Sebastian reminding her that to wish pain on one twin was to destroy the other. Gasping at the burn, MC put a hand to her heart as it throbbed, pausing to press her other palm to the coolness of the tiled wall. 

“What is it?” Leander asked, a look of concern creasing his brow as he turned to her. 

“This place,” she muttered through tight lips. “It's not exactly filled with fond memories.” 

“Of course,” he nodded, wincing slightly as he carefully took her elbow. “It's not much further, and we can get off this level as soon as you have your wand, I promise.” 

Breathing slowly, MC nodded and let him escort her down the hallway, their echoing footsteps joined by another set as they rounded a corner. MC gasped aloud, coming to an abrupt halt as she took in the familiar figure of Ominis with his wand held aloft so he could find his way, the tip blinking red. He, too, came to a pause when he realised they were blocking his way. 

The cool, haughty look on his face was very much how she remembered the boy, but the man cut a fine figure standing before her now. Tall, almost as tall as Leander, slim and dressed impeccably in a black suit, his blonde hair slightly shorter than she remembered, Ominis had grown to be very handsome indeed. 

“Ominis,” she said, a swell of emotion blooming behind her ribs as she remembered fond moments spent in his company. 

Ominis tilted his head, his mouth parting slightly as his sightless eyes moved quickly from side to side. He angled his wand in the direction her voice had come from. “Announce yourselves,” he said, an air of command laced through the softly spoken words. 

Leander cleared his throat, his eyes darting between her and Ominis. “Good morning, Ominis. It's Leander Prewett standing before you, along with an old friend of yours.”

Ominis raised his eyebrows, his mouth pursed in thought. “Intriguing,” he said softly, turning to fully face MC now. “Is it really you, MC?” 

“It is,” she said, her voice catching slightly as her eyes stung. Faced with a former friend, her worries clawed at her insides, the fear of being rejected needling at her as she waited. 

The moment stretched in the eerie silence of the corridor, and MC glanced towards Leander, an odd feeling shivering down her spine as she expected the backlash of the last four years to pour from Ominis’ mouth in a lecture. However, his brow smoothed into a look that could almost be described as soft, a hesitant hand reaching towards her. 

“Are you well?” He asked, his head tilting slightly.

“According to the Healer, I am as fit as a fiddle,” she said, knowing that while her body was regaining its strength, her mind was still trapped back in that cell.

Ominis stretched his hand out towards her a little more, and she looked down at it. Knowing how reluctant Ominis could be regarding physical intimacy, she hesitated before she let her fingers touch against his, the coolness of his hand immediately wrapping around hers, bringing a lump to her throat. 

“Why don’t I give you a moment to get reacquainted,” Leander said, offering MC a smile. “I will go on to the reception and get things started. You can come along and find me when you are done. Is that alright?”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at Leander. “You’re leaving me unattended?”

His smile faltered a little, a flicker of sadness appearing on his face. “MC, you’re not a prisoner anymore. You need to remember that. I won’t be far away, and Ominis can point you in the right direction if you’re unsure.”

“Of course,” Ominis said, inclining his head towards Leander. Amusement teased at his lips. “Don’t worry. I shall escort her back to your side, Prewett.”

Leander looked uncertain for a moment, a frown creasing his brow as he looked at Ominis, but with a reassuring smile towards her, he turned and walked away down the corridor. MC watched him stride away, a fist of panic lodging in her chest as he disappeared around a corner. With him out of sight, it felt like a safety net had been stripped from underneath her, and her hand gripped Ominis tightly as she swallowed hard.

“Prewett has been taking care of you,” Ominis said shrewdly, stepping closer towards her. “Are you really alright, MC? Azkaban is a terrible place. It did not wholly sit right with me what happened to you.”

The tightness in her chest stretched to snapping point, being here and speaking of such things stirring up memories she didn’t care to revisit, her features twisting with painful grief. “Not enough to stop it from happening, though. Anne lied, and nobody stopped her, not you, not even Sebastian.”

The sharp twist of bitterness at the mention of their lack of help made her release his hand, a shaky breath leaving her lips. Hating how vulnerable she felt in that moment, she backed against the wall, her hands splayed against the cold hardness of the tiles behind her as she put up the familiar mental barriers around herself. These mental wards had been a defence against the Dementors whilst incarcerated. Now, they were protecting her from the unfamiliar world outside and the emotional daggers she feared being cast in her direction. 

“I am sorry, MC,” Ominis said, bowing his head slightly. “You are right. I did nothing back then. I can only imagine the horrors you have faced, but I have sought to remedy my lack of action when I was younger. I have a seat on the Wizengamot, and when your case was presented to us for review, I voted in favour of your release.”

Her eyes took in the smartness of his suit again, trying to picture him seated in the courtroom, making judgement on a person’s crime, and realised that it wasn’t so hard to imagine. As students together, he had always been the moral compass trying to urge her and Sebastian to make better choices. She wondered if he was still close with Sebastian considering his job now.

“So, if you sit for court, you know the terms of my release?” 

“I do,” he said, one eyebrow curving upwards. “You must have agreed to them in order to be standing here. Do you think you can do it? Can you infiltrate the Ashwinders and help bring them down?”

“I will do what needs to be done. Rookwood won’t get away so easily this time,” she said, her taste for vengeance making her fingers flex. 

Ominis hummed thoughtfully, his head tilting at an almost predatory angle. “Even if that means bringing Sebastian down with him?”

The image of Sebastian in Leander’s case notes came to her, blending with the memories that she had clung so fiercely to whilst in prison, and a deep, aching longing filled her chest. Has the bond she had cherished in her protected heart been lost? Perhaps it had been too long. Maybe what they had felt when they were younger was no more than childish whims, but the thought of letting that all go felt like tearing off a chunk of herself.

“Have you seen him? Has he really aligned himself with Rookwood?” There was hope in her voice despite her efforts to remain neutral.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head with a resigned look of despair on his face, his pale, sightless eyes almost luminous in the shadowed corridor. “Sebastian is on a path of self destruction, and I honestly can’t see how he will find any kind of redemption without a small miracle. You know what he is like, stubborn and prone to fixating on his own goals regardless of the consequences. I won’t lie. I fear for him. I can only hope that you choose a better path for yourself, MC. Do not lose yourself in acts of revenge. Don’t bow down to Sebastian’s folly. That’s not what made me vote for your freedom.”

“Why did you vote for my release?”

“A second chance at life, MC. A life that uses your potential, for you are a wonderfully gifted witch,” he said, leaning forward slightly with a small smile. “Don’t waste it. The next time I read your name in the newspaper, I want it to be regarding good things. I never imagined you as the villain in your story.”

Taken back to late nights in the common room at Hogwarts when they would read and discuss the novels they had enjoyed together, MC felt a lump stick in her throat as she stared at her old friend. He had not dismissed her, or cast her aside like gutter filth. He did not paint her as a villain, but then, he did not know about the darkness that lingered inside of her. His despair for Sebastian should cloak her, too, for they shared a kindred spirit. She had nursed her thirst for revenge, and the path was already there under her feet, and she would walk it, even if she had to do it alone.

“I thank you for the chance, Ominis,” she said, her voice tinged with an edge of sadness. “I never wanted to be a villain, but sometimes one must walk through the darkness in order to do what must be done. I will fulfil the terms of my probation, but I can’t promise that my methods will meet your approval. I’m not sure I am cut out to be the hero of the story, either.”

“Just be careful, MC,” he said, his brows drawing together. He reached out his hand again, his fingers tentatively brushing against her arm before withdrawing back into the comfort of his own space. MC noted the gleam of a wedding band on his finger, her gaze curious as she studied him. A respected job in the Ministry and a wife. All signs of how life had moved on without her whilst she drifted in cold darkness. Her loneliness yawned in her chest. 

“Don’t worry about me, Ominis. I am a survivor.”

….*….

The slim, black box sat upon the table in the Criminal Stores Office, just a box with no fancy design, and yet it contained something so deeply valuable to her. MC could feel the disapproval drifting from the woman guard standing on the other side of the table, her eyes slightly narrowed as she waited for MC to open the box. Four years ago, her wand had been taken from her possession after her arrest, placed into this box, and stored away. MC had been lost without it. It felt like she had been only just becoming one with the smooth piece of wood, the contours of it becoming as familiar to her as her own hand through the use of it. 

Reaching out to remove the lid of the box, revealing her wand nestled in a soft bed, the memory of the day it had chosen her inside Ollivander’s shop flooded through her. The feeling of holding it within her grasp compared to nothing else, and as she plucked it out of the box now, her eyes burned at the feeling of it against her fingers. Smoothing her touch along the wood, she took a steadying breath, allowing the moment to sink in as she reacquainted herself with her connection to her magic.

The wand chooses the wizard, she was told, and her wand had chosen the tempest of ancient magic that slumbered in her veins. She could feel it now, pulsing with eager energy now that there was a conduit to release its power. Gripping the handle of the wand, she held it up, her ancient magic simmering and throbbing with the need to be released, but she remained steady as she gazed at the graceful twist of the pale wood. This was neither the time or the place, and she had another spell in mind to cast first. She swallowed and uttered the charm.

“Lumos!”

After so long in the darkness, the simple matter of seeking out a spark of light was enough to bring the sheen of tears to her eyes. Holding her wand up, the orb of light glowed in the office, reflecting off the pale skin of her face and making her eyes glitter like stars. With the return of her magic, she could do anything.

Villain, or hero? Ominis had urged her towards the light, but it was likely she would pull the shadows with her if she did. Whatever path she chose, it was ultimately her choice. Now, with her wand back within her grasp, her destiny was of her own making. She didn’t have to rely on others to save her. She could do that herself.

Movement at her side made her break from the reverie she held on the sphere of light, her gaze shifting towards Leander as she muttered the counter charm to put it out. Staring up at his brown eyes, she knew she had much to thank him for. The shifting feelings behind her ribs over him were enough to steal her breath sometimes. It scared her. She could admit that.

“How does it feel?” He asked, his lips curving into his familiar soft smile.

Almost smiling in return at the loaded question considering the thread of her thoughts, MC looked down at her wand in her hand, her fingers flexing as she considered her feelings. The thrum of ancient magic still begged for a release and she bit her lower lip, choosing to ignore the unfurling and simmering flame that teased at her whenever she looked too closely at him.

“It feels rather good,” she replied, a slight smirk playing on her mouth. “I also feel the urge to release some pent-up energy. I’m rather inspired to throw a few explosive spells around, you know, unleash some of the frustration at being locked up for so long.”

Her devilish eyes glanced towards the guard still standing opposite them, and the tightened expression of disapproval on her face brought out the full smirk onto MC’s lips. A familiar spark of mischievousness came to life within her, a freeing and exhilarating feeling that only charged the need to express her magic. Turning her gaze back towards Leander, she was intrigued to see a rather amused and playful smirk on his own lips.

“Plenty of time for that,” he said, and he even dropped her a wink that almost disarmed her completely. “Hold that thought.”

Leander

There was definitely something different about MC now that she had her wand returned to her. There was a spark in her eyes, a glimmer of the exciting young girl who had walked the halls of Hogwarts and turned his head when he had been an awkward teenage boy. He was still slightly awkward when it came to the opposite sex, but he was more settled in his own skin to know that she could still captivate him despite everything.

He could hardly tear his eyes away from her as they travelled in the lift together, her body pressed close as she held onto his arm, the speedy momentum of the vessel making them lean against one another whilst he held onto the strap above their heads. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to have her there, to feel her so close. It worried him that he was becoming too attached to her, and soon, she would be leaving to join the Ashwinder group. 

He marvelled at his own restraint around her, the memory of her soft lips was seared into his mind, and the hunger to seek out more of the same kept him awake. The sensible part of his mind knew it was folly to dream, and yet he couldn’t help but sneak longing glances her way. Allowing her to be so close was a dangerous game, but one he was clearly playing, seemingly unable to resist the ease of placing a polite hand against her lower back, or touching her elbow to guide her through the myriad of corridors and turns of the Ministry Headquarters.

Stepping out of the lift at level two, Leander couldn’t help the burst of pride that showed in his smile as he guided MC along the red carpeted corridor. “Welcome to the British Auror Office,” he said, holding out his hand towards the doors that opened into his department. 

“Are you sure I will be welcome here, Lee?” Her eyebrow curved upwards as they headed towards the doors. “I am a convicted Auror slayer, after all.”

“Don’t worry. We are just passing through,” he said, opening the doors and ushering her through first. “I want to ask Andrew a favour before we leave.”

Walking past the desk cubicles, curious glances were thrown their way as he led MC towards the research department. He noticed how she stiffened her spine, that cool mask of indifference slipping onto her face. Outward appearances did give her the look of a hardened woman, cold and capable of death, and he didn’t miss the disapproving frowns and curled lips of disgust as they passed some older Aurors. They didn’t know what lay beneath her hard exterior, the vulnerable and soft side of her that he had seen glimpses of over the last few weeks. He had seen her broken and lost. He had felt her fire under his hands and mouth, and he held his head up a little higher. He was not ashamed to walk beside her, and he touched his hand to her elbow in support as well as guidance as they approached the doors that they needed. 

Taking her to Andrew Larson was a hope. The possibility that he might be able to turn up information that could help seemed like a step in the right direction. Through her vulnerability, MC had made him question everything that he had read in her file. She was just a young girl, and no more than a child when she had been thrust into this world of magic, blessed with a power so far out of comprehension and with limited knowledge on how to wield it. If there had been others before her, surely there had to be buried records somewhere.

He still couldn’t put the cold-hearted killer alongside the girl he had seen and spent time with and come up with a logical match. There had to be more to all of this, and his mind wouldn’t stop rooting around for answers.

He also wanted to help her, to keep her a part of his daily life, to build a stronger connection than just being here as her probation Auror. She really was more than just a job to him, despite the fact that he did indeed have a job to do.

Andrew was at his desk, files open before him, and he looked up as they approached. His smile of greeting faltered, and his eyes widened as he stared at MC, his hand pushing nervously through his hair as he got to his feet.

“Morning, Leander. I haven’t seen you for a few days. I was beginning to wonder if you were alright,” he said, his eyes anxious as they darted between him and MC.

The last time Leander had seen Andrew, he had been planning to go down into the duelling pit. Despite sending an owl since, Leander had been rather vague in his details, not wanting to put too much into writing. He nodded and offered Andrew a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine, Andrew, honestly,” he said, glancing at MC. “We have been going over details regarding the case and making plans to move forwards. It’s one of the reasons I am here, actually. There is something you might be able to help us with.”

“Oh?” Andrew’s gaze slid reluctantly towards MC. “What can I do for you?”

“I was rather hoping that your expert eye could seek out information from the archives on MC’s behalf, as a favour to me,” he said carefully. “As you know, she can wield ancient magic, but she isn’t the first to do so. I was hoping you might find evidence of others. It’s not exactly common knowledge, and everything appears to be shrouded in mystery.”

Andrew studied MC with interest, curious despite his obvious nervousness at being in her presence. Leander hoped that by appealing to Andrew’s love of research, and it being a subject matter so intriguing, it would work in their favour. 

“You want me to open classified files and share information with…with MC?” Andrew asked, faltering on his words a little.

“With a criminal, you mean,” MC said, a cold smirk twisting her lips. She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “You can say it. There is no point trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I can promise you that any classified information you pass to me regarding my magic will remain a secret. I already have a dangerous man seeking me out because of what I can do, I definitely don’t want to encourage anyone else to do the same.”

A pink blush stained Andrew’s cheeks, and he scratched the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly. “Apologies, MC. I did not wish to offend,” he said. “I only hesitate because digging through old classified files might raise a few eyebrows if I’m not careful. The information could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Plus, I would need somewhere to start, a clue, perhaps. There are thousands upon thousands of files here in the archives, not to mention the library.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you could do this, Andrew. I would owe you one,” Leander said, a slight pleading edge to his voice.

He could feel MC’s eyes on him, knowing full well that he was going above and beyond his duty for her, and she knew it, too. He felt heat creeping into his own cheeks, but he stood firm and resolute, determined to do right by her. 

MC stepped forward, her gaze softening slightly towards Andrew. “I understand the risks,” she said, unfolding her arms, her voice losing its cold edge. “I can give you some clues on where to start from what I know already, but I would ask that whatever I tell you must remain between us. As you said yourself, this information is dangerous in the wrong hands. Can I trust you, Andrew? I hope we can trust each other.” 

The deep-rooted hunger for knowledge blazed in Andrew’s eyes. Leander had known him long enough to understand how excited he became at the prospect of learning about something new, remembering their conversations back in their school days during shared study sessions, and the times here at the Ministry working on cases together. The prospect of discovering the history behind ancient magic was surely tempting for the brilliant Ravenclaw, and his next words proved Leander’s theory.

“Alright, you have a deal,” he said, nodding. He even managed a shy smile in MC’s direction. “Tell me what you know, and I will see what I can find.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Andrew,” Leander said, turning to look at MC. She met his eyes and returned his smile. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Do excuse me for a moment. I shall leave you to speak with Andrew whilst I pay a visit to my desk. I need to check on some paperwork. I won’t be long, I promise.”

Leaving them both staring awkwardly at one another, Leander hurried off towards his desk, finding it as neat as he had left it only days ago. Fiddling with his tie, he took a seat and checked his in-tray, flicking through the parchments and marking some notes in a little book he carried. 

The delicate scent of perfume found his nose, and his desk creaked as Odessa McKinnon perched herself against the edge of it, her hand placed gently near his arm, her wrist adorned with an expensive looking bracelet. Looking up at her, he was greeted with narrowed eyes and a curious smirk.

“You have decided to make an appearance, then, Prewett,” she said, her gaze travelling slowly over him. He felt heat creep up his neck and resisted the urge to adjust his collar. “Where’s your little pet? I saw her walk in with you. She is looking well, you must be taking good care of her.”

The last time he had seen Odessa had been that night in the safe house, disappearing with MC in his arms and leaving her in a fit of temper. She no longer looked vexed, but there was a glint of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher. He sat up a bit straighter, smoothing his fingers down the front of his tie.

“Did you speak to Harrington?” He asked, deflecting her query about MC. 

Her smirk did little to hide the curiosity in her gaze. “If you are referring to the little issue of a leak, I think he is no closer to the culprit than he was when he came blustering in here the other day. If you ask me, there is probably more than one. It isn’t exactly unheard of, and when you think about it, these things work both ways. Rookwood has snitches in his own camp, divulging secrets to us. It’s obvious there will be those who return the favour.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Leander frowned. “We all swore oaths to serve and protect. How could anyone go against that? Certainly not anyone who stands for loyalty and justice.”

“Oh, sweetie, I just love how honourable you are,” she said, moving her hand to his forearm. “You are a rare soul who truly stands for honour. It is commendable and one of my favourite things about you. I mean, look how seriously you have taken the role of being MC’s probation Auror. Most wouldn’t have gone to such efforts for the likes of her. I just hope she doesn’t let you down, Leander.”

He looked down at Odessa’s hand, her fingers caressing gently against the sleeve of his jacket. She was leaning closer, smiling softly at him, and he felt warmth bloom across his cheeks.

“All MC needs to do is get us closer to Rookwood,” he said, concentrating on the case rather than anything more personally linked to MC. “If she can do that, then she will have served the terms of her probation without letting any of us down. I’m just doing my job, McKinnon.”

“And you do it so well,” she said, leaning even closer, her eyes darkening. “Now that you have returned, perhaps we can arrange that drink we spoke about.”

The sound of the gentle clearing of a throat made them both turn, Leander’s face burning even hotter when he saw MC standing there watching them with narrowed eyes. He realised just how close Odessa had leaned in towards him and shifted in his chair, his hand reaching to adjust his tie as guilt flooded through him. Odessa smirked and took her time moving away from him, her hand lingering on his arm long enough for it to draw MC’s gaze towards it, her mouth tightening slightly. He could almost see her withdrawal into herself, that spark he had noticed dimming in her eyes.

“Pardon the interruption, Auror Prewett,” MC said coolly. “I have finished my interview with the research team. I thought I would come and find you, but I can always make myself scarce if you are…otherwise occupied.” 

“Oh, no…there’s no need for that,” he said, clearing his own throat before grabbing his little notebook and holding it up. The cold formality of her tone made his heart clench. “I think I am done here.”

“You look well, prisoner 2757. Life on the outside must be agreeable to you,” Odessa said, her voice like silk against a knife edge. Leander winced, but she only smiled wider. “I’m curious to see how things work out for you.” 

MC’s eyes were hard and cold as she glared at Odessa. “I’m not usually one for cliches and old sayings, but the one about the cat and what curiosity did to it seems rather apt right now.”

Leander stood quickly and adjusted his jacket, moving towards MC, feeling the tension in the air between the two girls. Feeling rather uncomfortable, he didn’t dare touch MC, merely holding his hand out in the direction they needed to walk. “Shall we?” 

“I’ll speak to you later about that drink, Leander,” Odessa said smugly, twirling a lock of glossy hair around her finger. “Do enjoy your afternoon.” 

They left the Auror Office in silence, MC walking with her back straight and stiff, her face hard and cold. She wouldn’t look at him and barely nodded her head as he held the door open for her. He bit his lip, not sure if he should apologise, or insist that there was nothing between himself and Odessa. One could argue it was really none of her business, but they had shared that fiery kiss in his kitchen. He didn’t want her to think he was a rake, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. This was new territory for him having two ladies to worry over, and he knew he had the potential to put his massive foot in it. 

“So, what now? Are we leaving?” She asked, her gaze moving around the long corridor, looking everywhere but at him. 

“I had thought of getting some supplies for lunch. We could take it down to the beach near the house, and maybe you could do some wand practice whilst we are there. Of course, if you wanted to practise alone, I would understand.” He glanced her way, trying to gauge her reaction, but she remained cool and distant.

“You keep leaving me unattended. You ought to be careful, Prewett,” she said. “Aren’t you worried I might betray you?”

Leander swallowed hard as they made a turn towards the lifts. Anxiety twisted behind his chest as he wondered if he was putting off the inevitable. She would pull away from him at some point, and maybe he ought to start accepting that. Maybe it was best to start putting the distance between them in order to prevent further confusion. It didn’t seem like an easy prospect, especially when he didn’t really want to.

“As I said earlier, MC. You are no longer a prisoner. You could walk away from me right now, and I would not be obligated to chase after you. I’ve just been trying to help you and give you the best start possible before throwing you at Rookwood’s mercy,” he said, barely keeping the disappointment from his voice. He took a steadying breath as he came to a pause before the lift, one hand grasping the handle. “I’d like to think you wouldn’t betray me, but all I can do is hope that you won’t. Either way, I’m here to help you. You can take it or leave it.”

“You mean I can just leave?” 

“If that’s what you would rather do,” he said softly, already preparing himself for her to do just that. “I can give you a time to meet me so we can exchange information as per your terms, and then you can walk away.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and he bit his lip again. He gripped the lift door handle tightly, his cheeks no doubt red from the constant blush that seemed to stain his cheeks around her company. It was hard to read her thoughts, her face still carefully blank. Pulling the door aside, he gestured for her to enter the lift. Stubbornly silent, she did so, dipping her gaze and stepping past him. 

This time, she braced herself against the wall, keeping a respectable distance between them as they lurched through the dizzying ride back towards the Atrium. He remained quiet, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he agonised over mentioning Odessa, but people kept boarding the lift, and it wasn’t the time. He was also certain that she was going to leave, and the part of him that held a longing ache for something he could never have didn’t want to push her further away from him.

The walk through the Atrium was quiet, her shoulders still held with tension, her face pale and drawn as they neared the glow of the Floo fireplaces. She followed him towards the one they needed, and he paused, turning to give her a hesitant look. Was she going to ask to leave separately? If she did, he would have to keep his word and let her go. 

Without looking at him, her hand reached out and sought his, her cold fingers wrapping tightly around him as she moved closer. “I’m ready. Let’s go, Prewett.”

He looked down at their joined hands, something shifting behind his ribs that he was too scared to examine up close. He squeezed back firmly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he closed his eyes and pictured the rugged coastline of Cornwall, the idyllic Shell Cottage set against the heathland. She was still calling him Prewett, and her face still held that cool indifference, but she wasn’t running down the hallway away from him. She was still happy to go home with him. The relief flooded through him as he stepped forward into the green flames, and she followed, the power of the magic sucking them through the void.

Sebastian

Wincing at the burn of the whiskey as he swallowed it down, he eyed the pretty witch opposite him, his gaze travelling over a mouth he knew rather well, her lips curved into a teasing smirk as she stared back at him across the table inside the Black Rose bar. Sweet talking Luella around had been easier than he had expected, his smart mouth that had pissed her off the other day now making her eyes sparkle, seemingly placing him back in her favour.

“Another whiskey?” He asked, holding his empty glass up.

She twirled her glass on the table top and gave him a dark look through her lashes. “Perhaps we could take this one upstairs,” she murmured, her hand sliding across the scratched wood to brush her fingertips along the back of his hand. 

Sebastian felt his stomach muscles tighten, fighting the heat that stirred in his blood. It had been a while, but he wasn’t about to climb into bed with her again. He wasn’t made of stone, and of course, his body was going to react to a lovely woman offering him such pleasure, but he couldn’t. Not anymore. He withdrew his hand from the table top and out of her reach, his eyes glancing around them to see if anyone had noticed her suggestive touch.

“Do you want us to be found out?” He said, his voice hushed. “Daddy dearest will castrate me if he finds out, and I would rather keep my Crown Jewels intact.”

“You act as though you’ve already lost your precious jewels considering the lack of fun we’ve been having lately,” she huffed, leaning back in her chair. 

“Don’t sulk, darling. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll get that drink, shall I?” 

Luella watched him leave the table, his charming smile slipping from his lips as soon as he turned his back on her. It was becoming tiresome keeping up the pretence, but now that he was in this situation, he was kind of stuck with it until he could come up with a new plan.

Leaning on the bar, he rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes scratchy and tired from lack of sleep. He avoided his bed most nights, but whenever he did seek his pillow to lay his head down, restlessness stopped him from finding proper sleep. It was that, or it was the nightmares that left him sweating and trembling under his blankets chasing him from his bed. 

The sound of someone entering the bar made him turn his head, his eyes widening as the familiar shape of Ominis appeared around the door, his wand held out and blinking. Shocked to see his old friend in such a place, it was clear he was here for either Marvolo or him. Sebastian abandoned the idea of ordering another whiskey and hurried to Ominis’ side. 

“Hello, old friend,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the bar to see who was watching and finding that most were giving them curious glances. “What are you doing here, Ominis? Everyone knows who you are.” 

Ominis looked annoyed and uncertain, and he clamped a hand around Sebastian’s arm. “Trust me, this is the last place I wish to be, but I came to find you,” he muttered. “Is there somewhere we can speak?”

“What is it? Is it Anne? Is she alright?” Panic gripped him, and he focused all his attention on Ominis.

“Anne is fine,” Ominis assured him, but his grip remained firm on his arm. “Not here. We need to leave.” 

“Come on,” Sebastian said, leading Ominis back out into the cobbled street. Walking around the corner, he glanced through the shadowed dark before Disapparating away from Knockturn Alley, where the very walls had ears that heard too much.

“Where are we?” Ominis asked as soon as they had their feet on solid ground again.

“Leicester Square, deep in Muggle territory where nobody will know us,” Sebastian said, standing close like a shield around Ominis. “Put your wand in your cane so nobody notices it.”

Ominis moved swiftly, adopting the gentleman’s cane that disguised his method of sight on Muggle streets. There was still the pinch of worry on his brow, and Sebastian was growing impatient. 

“What was so urgent that you wandered right into the viper’s nest?” 

Ominis sighed and shook his head. “I’m still not convinced that this is a good idea. I could get into trouble if I was discovered speaking out of office.”

Sebastian’s brows lifted with interest. “Out of office? Alright, you’ve got my attention. Surely, you won’t leave me hanging after that kind of statement.” 

Dressed in a fine black suit, his hair neat and his profile like classic marble under London’s gaslights, Sebastian assumed that Ominis had come from the Ministry. Knowing his role there, he waited expectantly for Ominis to speak. Ominis rubbed his hand against his chin and sighed again.

“Merlin, curse me, alright,” he said, wincing as he made the decision. “Just tell me one thing. How serious are you about bringing Rookwood down?”

“Deadly serious,” Sebastian said darkly, his heart in his mouth. “What do you know, Ominis?”

“It’s more a case of who I spoke to,” he said, his teeth catching at his lower lip. “I met her, Sebastian. MC. I spoke to her this morning.” 

Sebastian tried to draw a breath, a gasp, anything, but his lungs betrayed him. He stared at Ominis, lips parted. His hands reached to grip Ominis’ arms, holding him tightly. “Where? What did she say?”

“Let me go, you fool,” Ominis said, batting his hands away, scowling and scoffing. “She was at the Ministry this morning collecting her wand, and you were right. She was with Prewett.” 

Sebastian’s mouth became set into a grim line, his brows drawn down low. “I knew it!”

“Now, now, Sebastian. Before you get your wand all in a knot, you should be aware that Prewett has been ensuring MC receives the best care after leaving the prison. By her own mouth, she is doing well and feeling better. Prewett even left her alone with me so that we could talk. She is not his prisoner, Sebastian. The intentions are honourable.”

“Honourable? Pfft, I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian scoffed, pushing his hand through his hair. “Prewett has always had a thing for MC, and no doubt he is relishing having her so close. He lied to me when I asked him outright where she was, and I bet the smug prick was loving every minute of it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was trying to bed her under the guise of being a good, little boy.”

Ominis arched one eyebrow, his mouth twisted with an ironic smirk. “Not everyone thinks as you do, Sebastian. You’ve spent too long rolling around in the gutter. And, even if MC did allow Prewett to court her, would that be so terrible? He is a respectable young man with good prospects. Perhaps that is just what she needs.”

Sighing in irritation, Sebastian clenched his fists and glared. “What does any of this have to do with Rookwood?”

“Ah yes, Rookwood,” Ominis said, his gaze becoming sly. “What if I told you that the Auror office plans to send a decoy into his ranks? They want to bring Rookwood down just as much as you do, and they are willing to plant a powerful weapon within the Ashwinder camp in order to do it. If it works, you could very well be brought down with them.” 

“Are you suggesting I cut my losses and get out? After all the effort I’ve put in!” Sebastian asked, incredulous. 

“No, Sebastian,” Ominis said, sighing in exasperation. “Although, that would solve a few problems if you did. No, what I am actually suggesting, and I can’t believe I’m doing so, is that you work alongside the Auror’s plans and get the best of both worlds.” 

“I’m not siding with no Auror scum,” Sebastian bristled, clenching his fists tighter. The image of Harrington dragging MC out of his arms that day sent a cold shiver down his spine. He would never forget it. Ever. 

“Technically, you wouldn’t have to,” Ominis said, tilting his head. “Think about it. You assist in bringing down Rookwood, and in doing so, you gain the protection of not being sent to Azkaban for your efforts. All you would have to do is assist with the weapon.” 

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he considered Ominis’ words. “And what is this weapon they seem so confident about?” 

Ominis smiled, a smug, knowing smile that made him look every inch the Gaunt he hated to be. “Why, it’s MC, of course. That’s why she was let out early. That’s why they want her fighting fit so they can send her into Rookwood’s ranks and cut him out from the inside.”

Sebastian felt his jaw drop, staring in disbelief as he tried to wrap his head around those words. “MC is turning spy for the Aurors?”

“After speaking with her today, she seems quite determined to succeed. She signed a contract of probation terms to seal the deal,” Ominis said, lifting his chin. “It made voting for her release all the more satisfying.” 

“You…you voted…” Sebastian huffed a shocked breath out through his mouth, his hands pressing against his forehead as he stared blindly around Leicester Square, not paying any attention to the busy pubs and music. 

“She wants revenge just as much as you do,” Ominis continued, his smirk still smug. “You know me, old friend, I may not have my sight, but I am pretty good at seeing between the lines when it comes to people. It’s not so much what she said, but how she said it. She will bring down Rookwood, and she isn’t afraid of how. She even asked after you, despite you leaving her to rot in that awful prison.”

“She did?” Sebastian’s heart leapt behind his ribs. “What did you say?”

“I told her the truth,” he said, with a little shrug, amusement tugging at his mouth. “That you're still the same degenerate running around causing trouble. I'm sure she will seek you out once she is ready. I don't think she has let go of you yet.”

“And why would she? I haven't let go of her,” Sebastian said, flares of hope thundering through his pulse points. “When she does come, I will be ready.” 

Ominis nodded, his face growing serious. “Just be careful, Sebastian. These are dangerous games at play. The only reason I am telling you all of this is because I would rather have you come out of it all alive.”

“I appreciate it, Ominis. More than you will ever know,” Sebastian said, a softer tone entering his voice. 

For the first time in a very, very long time, Sebastian felt a glimmer of hope kindle in his chest, his gaze dropping to the thin, red scar on his palm. Could it be bright enough to chase back the shadows that haunted him?

MC

The constant roar of waves filled her ears, and the sky was a canvas of deep oranges and pinks as the sun slid away for another day. The air was brisk, the sea breeze pulling at her braid as she thrust her arm towards the twilight sky yet again, her shoulders aching from the effort as her magic poured from the end of her wand in a blast of blue and white. The magic swirled and twisted, soaring up towards the sky in a writhing mass of power before splitting into a million fluttering wings. Fireflies of ancient magic danced on the breeze, drifting and dispersing across the beach. 

She had been out here for quite a while, relishing the freedom of being able to cast her spells and release the pent-up fire of her magic. With her wand in hand, she felt unstoppable, a sense of wild abandon making her cheeks flush and her adrenaline spike. Her education had been cut short, but she knew enough to be able to handle herself safely, despite the desperate tremor on the edge of her control. Ancient magic was powerful, and she kept a tenuous grip on it, heeding the memories she had witnessed in those pensieves of the witch, Isadora.

Pausing to catch her breath, MC pondered her brief conversation with Andrew Larson earlier that day and dared to hope that he managed to dig something new up from the Ministry archives. Despite his obvious nervousness in her presence, she had sensed his eagerness to discover the information, his tentative questions for her hinting at a deep curiosity. She could not deny the excitement at the prospect of hidden knowledge regarding her magic, and she knew she had Leander to thank for the chance to find it.

Leander.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she relaxed her shoulders, sitting down on the soft sand of the beach to stare out at the rolling waves of the great Atlantic Ocean. Flutters of uncertainty danced behind her ribs as she thought about Leander, her teeth catching at her lower lip as she remembered soft kisses that had quickly turned into flame, the lingering warmth left on her skin after he had touched a hand to her back or her arm. How could she ignore the way he looked at her? Oh, he tried to hide it, but it was there, and she was looking for it whenever she met his gaze, now.

There was only one way anything like that could end between them, though. Heartbreak. 

Closing her eyes, she hung her head downward, her arms balanced on her knees, her wand still firmly in her grip. Seeing him with Odessa had bothered her. It had clawed at the vulnerable scars behind her ribs, tearing at the softness she had hidden there, a softness she was developing for her Auror. Yes, hers. Because that is how she thought of him now. It had snuck up on her, caught her unawares, and now she had no choice but to look at it. 

Seeing that sly, smug woman put her hands on Leander, lean towards him like she had every right to claim him as her own, it made MC want to whip out her wand and blast the bitch across the desks of his office. Shaken by the depth of her discomfort, she had tried to keep her distance from him ever since, shocked at the clear burn of jealousy she was drowning in. She had no right, no claim. It had only been one kiss, and she had told him to stop. He owed her nothing.

And yet…

Opening her hand to reveal her palm, she looked down at the thin scar on her hand, tracing it with her finger as her eyes stung with unshed tears. Missing Sebastian had consumed her for so long, for years she had been utterly alone and lost in darkness, and she still lingered in those shadows.

Was it so terribly wrong to seek out some light?

She wanted to feel something other than empty and cold. She had stepped out of that prison, unsure of where she belonged, and she still felt like she was adrift. The only thing holding her down right now was Leander. He had held her, wiped her tears away, sheltered her…and when he had kissed her, the empty hollow behind her ribs had flooded with warmth.

Sebastian was somewhere out there, far away from here and working under Rookwood’s orders. It was in the case files Leander had shown her. He had been seen with Rookwood’s beautiful daughter, and even Ominis had said that Sebastian was on a path of self-destruction.

Had he fallen so far into darkness that he was out of her reach? She just didn’t know anymore. It scared her more than she wanted to admit that she may have lost her first love, the boy who had stolen her soul and bound it with his in blood. Now, he was a man that she feared she wouldn’t recognise. What if he was walking a path she didn’t want to follow? Perhaps Ominis was right, and she might need to make some choices for her own survival.

Alone and lost, it was tough to know where to start, but she needed to have some faith in herself. She had always been alone since she was a child, and this was no different. She had always relied on herself, and that hadn’t changed. She just needed to take the first steps.

Getting to her feet, MC trudged across the sand towards the cliff path that led back to the cottage. The sky had now darkened into a blue so deep it was almost black. The first stars of the night were blinking their brilliance, and the pale moon had shown her face. Lost in her own head, she didn’t see Leander until she was upon him, jolting at the sight of him leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the cottage garden with a glass in his hand. She gasped and put a hand to her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, smiling softly.

“I didn’t see you there, I was…I was miles away,” she said, biting her lip and dipping her gaze. She had hardly spoken to him all afternoon, wrapped up in her own petty jealousy over Odessa. She eyed him through her lashes, fiddling with her wand before gesturing towards his glass. “A tipple before bedtime, is it?”

He tilted the glass slightly as he glanced at it, nodding. “It’s my father’s firewhiskey. There was a bottle in the kitchen cupboard. I thought it might help me sleep. Would you like one? I can pour you a glass.”

MC wrinkled her nose as she moved closer towards him, her earlier frostiness with him melting away. “I was never really one for whiskey,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe I could try a sip.”

“Sure, here,” he said, holding out the glass towards her.

She took a small sip, the liquid coating her tongue with spicy heat. Her eyes watered, and she coughed as it went down her throat, the burn tingling all the way to her stomach. Leander chuckled and took back the glass as she shook her head. “Nope, still not for me,” she said.

“Fair enough. I can make you some tea if you’d prefer that,” he offered.

She shook her head and moved to lean against the wall beside him. “I’m fine, thank you. I will take some water up to bed with me.”

“That was quite the show you put on down there,” he said. “Do you feel better now?”

“You were watching me?” She looked up at him as he nodded, brushing back strands of hair caught on the sea breeze. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and she wondered what it would be like to brush back his hair with her fingers. She was grateful for the cover of darkness as she blushed at the thought.

“It feels good to be able to cast magic again,” she said, looking down at her wand. “After discovering that I was a witch and beginning to learn about my magic, I felt quite lost without it.”

“I’m sure I would be at a loss without mine,” Leander said. “I’m glad you feel better. What with your wand back in your possession and your strength returning, I am sure you are almost ready to leave. How do you feel about all that?”

Gazing ahead at the darkened ocean, she slipped her wand away and sighed softly, feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable there under the stars with him. “Lonely,” she said, her voice low and tinged with sadness.

His silence made her turn her head to look up at him, the look in his eyes making that cavern in her chest twist with longing. 

“You’re not alone,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m here, remember? I will make sure that you will always be able to find me, no matter what happens.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she studied his face. That warmth was right there, and all she had to do was reach for it.

“What about McKinnon?”

He straightened, placing his glass down on top of the wall behind him, his face serious. He shook his head, his hand reaching for her, and then hesitating. “What you saw earlier, it was nothing. She flirts like that with everyone. There is nothing more than professional camaraderie between myself and Odessa. I would never…”

“Don’t…” She said, her voice cracking. She put her hand gently over his mouth to stop him, knowing that if he said too much, it might push them even further across a line that was already blurring so quickly.

His eyes burned with words left unsaid, his lips parted against her fingers, the warmth of his breath against her skin sending shivers through her. Her hand shifted against his mouth, her fingers lightly caressing against the soft, fullness of his lips. His breaths quickened, and she felt her pulse come alive. He was so warm, so soft. The temptation was crippling, but she would only hurt him in the end.

His long fingers curled about her wrist, holding her hand against his mouth as his lips pressed soft kisses against her fingertips, holding her gaze as he mouthed along towards her palm to press a firmer kiss there. She opened her mouth to speak, to stop him, but she wasn’t pulling away, and words failed her as he closed his eyes and pressed a lingering kiss against the pulse point at her wrist. He had to feel it against his mouth. He had to feel the rush and flutter of her blood as he held his lips against her like that. 

He lifted his head slowly, opening his eyes as he gently held her hand. “I try to hide it, but I think you know how I feel about you. I can’t explain it. You just drive me crazy. But, I’m not a fool. I know this isn’t what you want.” 

“I don’t know what I want,” she said, her honesty making her breathless. “I’m just this lost girl without a clue, and I’m so numb, Leander. It’s like I’m hollow, empty, and you deserve so much more than that.”

He looked pained, biting his lip as he looked out to sea, shaking his head as if trying to deny the truth. Reaching for her, she found herself pressed against the warmth of his chest, her cheek nuzzled against the soft wool of his jumper as he stroked her hair. To be held like she was fragile should have brought forward the stubbornness and pride she used as shields against emotional vulnerability, but she found herself clinging to him instead. The pressure of his embrace eased the ache in her chest, and she closed her eyes, savouring the feel of him, breathing in his scent and allowing warmth to seep through to her bones.

What harm could it do to borrow some of that unfailing stability he had? Just for a moment.

They stood there for a while in each other's arms, not speaking, and she felt the gentle press of his lips against her head a few times. She let him, her body so starved of human contact that she thought it might cause her pain to let go, but the air was growing chillier, and she shivered against the breeze. 

Reluctantly, she stepped from his embrace as he suggested they go indoors. They went about closing things down for the night, putting out the fire and drawing the curtains. When she moved for the stairs, she paused and turned towards him, placing her hand against his cheek with a soft smile.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek that was dangerously close to his mouth. 

He didn’t seek more. He merely bid her goodnight back, his eyes full of all the things they had left unsaid.

….*….

Her fingers slid down the old wood of the bedroom door, nerves fluttering behind her ribs as she once again found herself standing in the hallway outside Leander’s bedroom in the middle of the night. She had to stop this. Loitering outside his room was madness, and this was the third night she had found herself here, debating the idea of knocking and crossing into unchartered territory. Tonight, she felt the hunger with a sharpness that made her ache, sleep eluding her as she went over every detail of the day in her mind. 

That kiss goodnight had left her wanting, his mouth so close, and yet not close enough. Standing there in just her nightgown, she shivered, so tired of being cold and empty. His arms felt too good wrapped around her, his chest the ideal place to rest her head…

Her sigh came out as a pained moan, and she brought her hand to her mouth, stifling the noise as she hesitated outside his door. She stared at the handle, her fingers reaching for it. This was crazy. It was inappropriate behaviour for a young lady to do such a thing.

The door clicked off the latch and swung inwards, her bare feet slipping quietly across the floorboards as she entered the darkened room. Closing the door gently behind her, MC turned and glanced around the bedroom. It was neat and tidy, clothes folded on a chair and shoes sat neatly to one side. The double bed claimed the centre, the blankets covering Leander as he slept. He had not moved, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space. She should leave. She was invading his privacy.

Ignoring the sensible side of her mind, she moved closer towards the bed, pale moonlight highlighting the shape of Leander. Pausing, she took a moment to study him at rest, his hair falling haphazardly onto the white pillow. Her hand moved with a will of its own, her fingers sliding into soft strands of copper hair in a tentative caress. He stirred, his head shifting against the pillow, and then his eyes blinked slowly open.

“Sorry,” she whispered, withdrawing her hand. “It’s only me.”

Rubbing his eye, Leander pushed himself up onto an elbow, a frown creasing his brow. “MC…are you alright?”

“I can’t sleep,” she said, biting her lip. He was wearing a striped sleep shirt, and she would bet her last possession that he was wearing matching trousers beneath his blankets. He shifted to sit up, his hand grabbing the edge of the blanket.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she said firmly, putting her hand over his to stop him from throwing the blanket back and getting up. He met her gaze, slightly confused and sleep dazed. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “Don’t get up. I…I was wondering…”

Her throat seemed to close up, words not forming as she stared at him. He looked so soft and sleepy, and yet the curve of his mouth and the defined line of his jaw were drawing her gaze, making her imagine things far more fiery and urgent. She eyed the strength of his neck, the width of his shoulders, his open collar revealing his throat, and a glimpse of chest. Fire curled within her, her hands desperate to reach out and find warmth. 

She could see the question in his eyes, but instead of speaking, she lifted her hand and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. Leaning forward, she admired the full pout of his mouth before pressing her own against it, claiming a soft but determined kiss as her fingers pushed deeply into his hair and gripped. Leander didn’t move at first, perhaps surprised, but he didn’t stop her as she pressed more kisses against his mouth. The emptiness in her chest bloomed with fire, spreading outwards and filling her with something real, something that wasn’t dark or a heavy weight dragging her down.

“MC,” he whispered between kisses, his lips responding through heavier breaths. “Are you sure…this is…what you want?”

Inside, she felt like she had been losing everything human about herself, lost in shadow and sadness with no way out. Somehow, Leander had slipped through the cracks of her shattered soul, and his light was seeping through her, waking her up and making her feel like there was hope. She ached to feel that in the physical sense, her skin tingling in anticipation of his touch, the desire to feel his palms sliding over her flesh making her certain that this was exactly what she needed right now.

Cupping his face, her mouth reluctant to leave the plush softness of his, she brushed her lips against him, sighing softly, her body giving in to its demands. “Yes,” she breathed, sliding her tongue out to swipe it across his lower lip as she met his eyes.

Strong hands gripped her waist, and she moaned into his mouth as he pulled her down onto the bed with him, their kiss deepening until she was adrift on a wave of flickering flames. She had given in to temptation and was now lost in the feel of his hands and his mouth, her curves pressed close against the hardness of his body. As he cupped her hips, urging her against him, her nightgown sliding up her thighs, she knew there would be no turning back this time.

To be continued...

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

[writingbylee]

hi hello i think it’s time that i actually introduce all of my OCs? because i truly have so many and i never actually talk about half of them. so below you will find all my OCs! along with short bullet point explanations of their characters. if they have an OC sheet, that’ll be linked— as well as any fic i have posted about them. i’ve also included links to my vibes page (@vibesforlee) where i’ve got tags for each of my OCs.

Fandoms Below Include: Star Wars, A Song of Ice and Fire, Percy Jackson, Marvel, Chronicles of Narnia, Critical Role, Avatar The Last Airbender, and Top Gun: Maverick

so uhhhh yeah i hope this is helpful for at least my own brain but also anyone else who is interested!

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

banners by: me

Lyra Amidala Naberrie

General Knowledge

Younger sister of Padme Amidala

Jedi Healer during the Clone Wars

Served as Medic General of the 104th Legion, Chief Medical Officer of the 104th Company known as the “Wolfpack”, and as Medic General of the 501st Legion

Fic: @abandoned-by-destiny

Vibes

House of the Dragon

Aemma Velaryon Targaryen

General Knowledge

Firstborn child to Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, before Laenor’s premature death three years after the marriage

Older sister to Jacaerys Targaryen Strong, Lucerys Targaryen Strong, Joffrey Targaryen Strong, Viserys Targaryen Strong, and Visenya Targaryen Strong

Bonded to the dragon Vermithor

Vibes

Game of Thrones

Lyanna Stark

General Knowledge

Eldest child of Catelyn and Ned Stark (by approximately seven minutes)

Twin sister to Robb Stark; believed half-sister of Jon Snow; older sister to Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, and Rickon Stark

bonded to a red and brown direwolf called Scarlet Shadow

Fic: screaming from a crypt

oc blog: @princess-lyanna-stark

Vibes

Ceara Murphy

General Knowledge

daughter of Neptune and Emma Murphy, a legacy of Fortuna and daughter of Irish immigrants living in Portland, Oregon

inherited the power from her father to start earthquakes, and eventually manipulate seismic waves into concentrated blasts

brought down Mount Othrys after helping Jason Grace kill the Titan Krios

one of the demigods of the prophecy of Nine

Vibes

Emmalee Miller

General Knowledge

inherits the spirit and powers of the mythical Scarlet Witch when Wanda Maximoff is killed during her torture and experimentation at The Raft prison

is brought in by SHIELD after her powers emerge, and is initially assumed to be an Inhuman— and is therefore recruited by Daisy Johnson to join her Secret Warriors

Vibes

Edme Pevensie (female!Edmund Pevensie)

General Knowledge

Younger sister to Peter and Simon Pevensie, older sister to Lucy Pevensie

gains the power to manipulate ice and water after being stabbed with the shattered wand of The White Witch during The First Battle of Beruna

is crowned as High Queen Edme the Just, alongside her siblings; High King Peter the Magnificent, King Simon the Gentle, and Queen Lucy the Valiant

returns to Narnia twice after The Golden Age, both times to assist Prince, later King, Caspian the Tenth

Fic: A Reminder

Vibes

Campaign 1: Vox Machina

Alythea Vance

General Knowledge

Level 1 Druid/Level 11 Cleric (Death Domain) when hired by Vox Machina

is hired by Vox Machina to be their temporary healer/cleric during their mission to Whitestone, after Pike Trickfoot leaves on her vision quest

helps liberate the town of people of Whitestone, and returns to Vox Machina after the arrival of the Chroma Conclave in Emon

Vibes

Campaign 2: Mighty Nein

Kara Dean

General Knowledge

Level 7 Bard (College of Valor) when she meets the Mighty Nein

is Captain Avantika’s first mate/navigator when the Mighty Nein meet up with Avantika after stealing The Mist in Nicodranus

betrays Avantika and helps the Mighty Nein steal her journal

leaves The Revelry and Darktow with the Mighty Nein after The Plank King kills Avantika

Vibes

Xia Beifong

General Knowledge

Older sister to Toph Beifong, and heir apparent to the Beifong fortune

a nonbender who has trained extensively in swordplay

assists her younger sister in escaping, both to the fighting ring and to leave with the Avatar

in retaliation, is essentially sold by her father into marriage to the much older Earth King in Ba Sing Se

Vibes

Major Taylor Gardner

General Knowledge

28 year old Marine pilot

first Marine to ever be allowed to attend Top Gun, and the youngest female aviator to ever win Top Gun

callsign “Wasp”; due to the fifth generation fighter, colloquially called a Stinger, that she stole while escaping the uranium enrichment plant after being undercover there for several weeks obtaining vital intel

fic: Hangman and The Wasp

Vibes

[potattarot]

Summer Overview Tarot Reading

Summer is fast approaching with all the fun in the sun to look forward to. What will your summer bring,

Pick your favorite image, or what you are most looking forward to for your summer activities and we will look at relationships, your career and financial goals, and the general overview of the mood of your summer.

Remember this is for fun and entertainment purposes.

Beach (Image 1)

Page of Swords, King of Swords, Sun rx

Your mental energy is on the rise right now, and you feel you can communicate your needs, wants, and deep desires to the other people in your life. This communication could lead to conflict or tensions in your relationship. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't follow through with communicating your needs, and being open to change. With this potential change coming you could see it impact your finances by needing to make non emotional decisions around where you are spending your money. If you don't have one someone who can offer financial advice you might want to get someone to help, be them a financial advisor, tax consultant, or lawyer. Over the summer it might be hard to see the bright side of life. You could be experiencing depression, or a personal struggle that is causing you to make your heart hard. This is only temporary, soon the clouds with move out of the way and the sun will shine again.

Ice Cream (Image 2)

Four of Swords, The Magician rx, Ace of Pentacles

It might be time to take a step back and look at your relationships. Are they helping or harming you? Take some time for yourself to answer that question this summer and regain your energy. Sometimes we need to be alone and evaluate where we are before we can keep going forward. Your financial and work life might be feeling stifled, your talents and skills might be underutilized or a project you are working on has halted leaving you stuck. During this summer maybe you can explore ways to try and maximize your potential to get out of this rut But this summer you will see new opportunities coming your way, you may get a financial windfall, or a new career opportunity might arise. It will take work, but it is worth it.

Picnic (Image 3)

Temperance, Five of Wands, Seven of Swords rx

Your relationships are entering a space where you feel tranquil. You are able to come together with people, and create new things. You have found a balance with yourself and others in your life that has led to a comfortable harmony. You find yourself butting heads with others when it comes to your career and finances, but there is value in the diversity of opinions and this testing can help refine your ideas of where you should be headed. Underlying all of this, you could be feeling like an impostor, despite the stability in your relationships. This feeling of fraudulence is mostly expressed in your inner world, you could be hiding something you feel you really need to share, or you need to get outside support to help remind you that you belong where you are. Talk to people about whats going on to get to a place of inner harmony and calm.

I hope you all have a wonderful summer, and are able to relax and enjoy yourself not matter your situation.

Have a wonderful day!

[lunarsilver]

What awaits you in February?

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Tarot readings will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them and that’s okay too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason of making it.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

PILE 1

Three of Pentacles – Eight of Cups (R) – The Devil (R) – Back of the Deck: Four of Wands

We have here cards from all suits except Swords, this can mean you will be daydreaming or your mind/logic will be used less often? Swords are Air, mind, power, the lack of them here can signalize you should remember about thinking through things, ask both heart and mind what do you want.

This Four of Wands at the back of the deck shows the whole February should be pretty peaceful for you. This card is all about celebration, congratulations on whatever you’ve achieved/you’re about to achieve! Probably going back home, or maybe finding your new home? Are you looking for the ideal flat/house, or you’re renovating it?

 Four of Wands are correlated to other people, especially your family, and Three of Pentacles also talks about people. At the beginning of this February, you’re probably still working on what you’ll celebrate later. Some group project? Renovating your flat with your partner/friends? It looks like something won’t come according to the plan, you will have to alter it, find a different way, and… yeah, The Devil in reverse after reversed Eight of Cups, it looks like you will have to leave something behind, most likely your limiting beliefs or fear. Don’t run away from it, face it, and remember about Four of Wands – there will be something worth celebrating, some milestone.

PILE 2

Six of Cups – Three of Cups – Eight of Wands (R) – Back of The Deck: Nine of Cups

First things first: wow, that’s a lot of Cups, this month is all about feelings, guys. I get a feeling (heh) it’s more about friendship than love, at least for most. Relationships, connections, water. Any of you going somewhere near water this month? A town next to sea, camping by a lake, ice skating? And look at how all the Cups cards are divisible by three, yet again: bonding, groups, and also creativity and confidence. Hell, at first I even described this pile as the third one instead of the second one!

Nine of Cups shows me you will feel so fulfilled this month, this is the “wish come true” card. Cherish these moments as long as they last. Six of Cups is about happy memories, especially from childhood. Maybe you’ll feel like a happy, Innocent child again, or for some reason remember these moments. Watching cartoons, drawing, just doing things because they are fun. Maybe you’ll meet a childhood friend? You can spend more time with children. Six of Cups can sometimes mean pregnancy, especially with twins, so if there are here any people who try for a baby, maybe it says something.

Three of Cups gives me a vibe of a girls’ night out, of course for some of you. February is a time when you will spend a lot of time with friends, with Six of Cups from before these can be childhood friends, or you can do some silly, childish things and feel like kids again. A sleepover? Maybe a party? Remember how Nine of Cups is about fulfillment? Well, Three of Cups can often mean celebration!

Nine of Cups represent happy moments that are temporary – Eight of Wands in reverse signalize there can be some delays or frustration at the end of the month. Align your resources, plan your actions, but also don’t resist changes.

PILE 3

The World (R) – Three of Pentacles (R) – Four of Wands – Back of the Deck: Seven of Swords (R)

Wow, that’s a lot of reversed cards, do you feel stuck? Not sure what you do and where you’re going? More negative thoughts than usual (the domination of Swords would also suggest that)? If so, I’m sending you a virtual hug!

So, I guess some of you started a new job, got promoted, your grades improved or for some reason became the center of attention. I’m saying that because Seven of Swords in reverse can mean imposter syndrome. Alternatively, this can mean that during February you will keep deceiving yourself (i.e. trying to convince yourself that you’re satisfied while you’re not) or keep an ugly secret from someone. Remember, lie has short legs.

You will seek some kind of closure – personal (given the fact it’s February, Valentine’s Day and so on, maybe not getting fully over your ex will be hard to ignore) or it’s about some project, especially with Three of Pentacles in reverse. Some problems in your team? Disharmony of some sort? Some of you will be fed up and just finish it by yourself. Some of you can realize how many qualities you are and that they’re underappreciated, you may start to value yourself more.

Oof, looks like quite an exhausting month, doesn’t it? Fortunately, Four of Swords show you’ll get some well deserved rest. Proper sleep, meditation, listening to music – whatever makes you relaxed. You’ll handle the problem, and there will be time to take some time for yourself.  

[berryflavouredkoolaid]

Eulalie Rosier - Marauders OC

~ General ~

Full Name: Eulalie Etiennette Rosier

Nicknames: Eula (By Evan, Sirius), ‘Lalie (By Élodie)

Birthdate: Febuary 15th, 1960

Blood Status: Pureblood

Residence: Giverny, France | Surrey, England | London, England | Giverny, France | London, England

~ Physical Appearance ~

Hair Colour: White Blonde

Eye Colour: Ice Blue

Skin Tone: Pale

Height: 5’4

Face Claim: Léa Seydoux

~ Background ~

Hometown: Giverny, France

Born in the town of Giverny, Eulalie spent the first seven years of her life in her father’s hometown. After the birth of her sister, Élodie, the Rosier family moved to England. However, the historic Rosier Manor was retained by her father.

~ Family ~

Mother: Octavia Rosier (née Malfoy)

Father: Gabriel Rosier

Brother: Evan Rosier

Despite their being close in age, Evan and Eulalie couldn’t be more different. While Eulalie is standoffish and reserved, Evan is ever the outgoing one. Unfailingly optimistic and with enough charisma to charm a Goblin, Evan is the sun to Eulalie’s moon. When Evan joins the ranks of Voldemort’s followers in his seventh year, Eulalie is powerless to stop him from his own destruction.

Sister: Élodie Rosier

The youngest Rosier, Élodie has all the charm of her brother and the kind of beauty that men fight wars over. A born artist and dancer, it goes without saying Élodie was destined for great things. However, at barely 15, Élodie became grievously ill with a mysterious illness and passed within a fortnight. It was rumoured throughout high society that Élodie was poisoned by a jealous rival.

~ Magic & Schooling ~

Wand:

Wood: Elm

Core: Unicorn Hair

Length: 11 3/4”

Flexibility: Supple

House: Slytherin

Best Class: Potions

Worst Class: Muggle Studies

Patronus: Snow Leopard

Patronus Memory: Her first kiss

Boggart: Drowning

Riddikulus: The water freezes in the shape of a wizard mooning her

Amortentia (what she smells like): roses, jasmine, fresh laundry, faint cigarette smoke

Amortentia (what she smells): spicy cologne, old leather, cigarette smoke, whiskey

Quidditch: No

Prefect: No

Slug Club: Not by choice

OWLs:

Potions: Outstanding

Charms: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic: Outstanding

Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations

Muggle Studies: Acceptable

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

NEWTs:

Potions: Outstanding

Charms: Exceeds Expectations

Astronomy: Outstanding

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations

~ Career & Affliations ~

1971-1978: Student at Hogwarts

1978-1981: Potioneer, Member of the Order of the Phoenix

1981-1994: Apothecary Owner

Eulalie Rosier was left devastated by the First Wazarding War. Her brother, Evan, dead. Her fiancé, imprisoned in Azkaban. Her parents and sister, taken by Dragonpox the year before. It was no surprise to the few that she kept in contact with that she had made plans to leave England, with no plan to return. She returned to Giverny and opened a small Apothecary that sold various herbs and potion ingredients.

~ Personality & Traits ~

Personality: Ever the calm, collected and confident one in the room, Eulalie exudes an air of elegance to all who meet her. Despite her social status, Eulalie dislikes attention, socializing and, on the whole, other people. She is often seen observing silently at parties and events. Reserved, and elusive, her quiet nature only serves to create an air of mystery around her. Eulalie is not one for making friends, she has little interest in playing the games that the purebloods participate in. she is rather aloof and has gained a reputation as stuck-up or snobbish.

Strengths: Observant, smart, good at reading people, self-confident

Weaknesses: Reserved, expects people to read her mind and understand what she means, blunt, deep water

Likes: Milky tea, cool and cloudy weather, firewhiskey, playing piano,

Dislikes: Transfiguration, liquorice, Professor Slughorn,

Hobbies: Writing, smoking, astronomy, reading about history

Favourite Place: In the shade underneath a tree just far enough from the Black Lake so that she can see it but not so close she’s scared of it

~ Relationships ~

Best Friend(s): Pandora Lovegood (née Lestrange)

Friends:

Lily Evans

Remus Lupin

Xenophilius Lovegood

Rival(s):

Severus Snape

Jeanie Thomas

Enemies:

Barty Crouch Jr.

Lucius Malfoy

Lover(s): Sirius Black

~ Misc. & Notes ~

Eulalie smokes, and buys cigarettes off a muggleborn Ravenclaw in secret.

She is Luna Lovegood’s godmother.

In 1994, Albus Dumbledore contacted Eulalie to organize a place to hide out for Sirius Black. She agreed.

Eulalie didn’t properly meet Harry until he was 14. She attended the Triwizard Tournament alongside Sirius, in dog form.

When she was 6, she was pulled underwater by a grindylow. She nearly drowned except her father dove in after her and was able to get it off her. She still has a fear of deep water and cried the whole way over the Black Lake in first year.

Her most prized possession is her engagement ring. Sirius proposed to her only a few months before he would be imprisoned. She kept it in her jewelry box with her other precious things for 13 years.

She didn’t see either of her siblings again after her graduation. She wasn’t even able to attend their funerals. They were buried in the Rosier family plot in the cemetery in Giverny and she leaves fresh flowers every morning.

She never liked Severus Snape, she thought he was a pretentious twit.

After the Second Wizarding War, Eulalie made an effort to get to know her younger cousin, Draco.

{eulalieeee!! i love her sm i coukd write about her forever}

[simsccfindd]

Challenge Name: "Witching Heritage Legacy"

Objective: Lead a witch family through seven generations, each with specific goals that explore magical abilities, traditions, and the family's connection to the mystical world.

**Generation 1: The Witching Initiate**

- Goal: Transform the Founder Sim into a witch and establish a magical homestead with an alchemy station.

- Aspiration: "Mystical Beginnings"

- Traits: Bookworm, Good, Supernatural Fan

- Legacy Goal: Create a potion using the alchemy skill that becomes a family heirloom.

**Generation 2: The Elemental Adept**

- Goal: Master elemental magic (fire, ice, and electricity) and achieve proficiency in spellcasting.

- Aspiration: "Elemental Master"

- Traits: Artistic, Family-Oriented, Adventurous

- Legacy Goal: Host a magical fireworks display using mastered elemental spells.

**Generation 3: The Potion Master**

- Goal: Excel in the art of potion-making and establish a mystical potion store.

- Aspiration: "Potion Pioneer"

- Traits: Ambitious, Perfectionist, Good

- Legacy Goal: Brew and sell a unique, highly sought-after potion to the Sim world.

**Generation 4: The Magical Heirloom Crafter**

- Goal: Master the crafting of magical objects, including wands, brooms, and crystal balls.

- Aspiration: "Artifact Artisan"

- Traits: Artistic, Family-Oriented, Perfectionist

- Legacy Goal: Craft a family heirloom with each magical crafting skill.

**Generation 5: The Spirit Whisperer**

- Goal: Develop the ability to communicate with spirits and explore the supernatural realm.

- Aspiration: "Spirit Seer"

- Traits: Gloomy, Good, Supernatural Fan

- Legacy Goal: Host a séance to connect with ancestral spirits and uncover family secrets.

**Generation 6: The Enchanting Maven**

- Goal: Specialize in enchanting objects and create a magical sanctuary within the family home.

- Aspiration: "Enchantment Expert"

- Traits: Artistic, Family-Oriented, Ambitious

- Legacy Goal: Design and enchant a room dedicated to magical practices.

**Generation 7: The Eternal Sorcerer**

- Goal: Embrace the ultimate magical mastery, unlocking the most potent and rarest spells.

- Aspiration: "Sorcerer Supreme"

- Traits: Ambitious, Good, Genius

- Legacy Goal: Cast a powerful, world-altering spell and ensure the family's magical legacy endures through the ages.

Guide your witch family through these generations, each with its unique magical focus, contributing to the family's enchanting and mystical heritage.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

OC Questionnaire (Part 2)

And here's the rest of them (here are the others)! xdd

NAME: Liam Hawke (officially: Amell)

NICKNAME: Hawke, Prancer, Shorty, Bro (he and Bethy started calling each other bro and sis ironically and then it became unironical)

GENDER: Male

TAROT CARD:  Three of Swords

HEIGHT: Lower end of average

ORIENTATION: Bi (and some flavour of demi-ace)

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan Human (Marcher/Fereldan parents)

FAVORITE FRUIT: Blueberries

FAVORITE SEASON: Early to mid autumn

FAVORITE FLOWER: Dandelions

FAVORITE SCENT: Nutmeg, freshly cut grass, leather balm

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee (with milk)

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 7?

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs, no contest lol

DREAM TRIP: None really, he's fine with staying where he is

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 0-1 (smh he keeps sharing beds with blanket stealers....)

RANDOM FACT: Someone tried to insult him once by saying he smells like wet dog. Unfortunately for them, he took it as a compliment

NAME: Lilian Amell/Hawke

NICKNAME: Lil Bird (don't call her that), Hawke, Champ

GENDER: Female (would probably experiment with gender expression more if there weren't other things on her mind)

TAROT CARD:  Wheel of Fortune or King of Wands

HEIGHT: Tall (def taller than Liam)

ORIENTATION: Demiromantic bi and poly

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan Human (Marcher/Fereldan parents)

FAVORITE FRUIT: Peaches

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Golden rain

FAVORITE SCENT: Sea air, dried fish, vanilla, rum

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot chocolate, even if she denies it

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 8-ish, up to 10 if she has the chance to (gets grumpy if she gets less)

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs

DREAM TRIP: Rivain (been there, loves it)

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 2

RANDOM FACT: Forever mad that Seb outdrinks her at every competition and forever determined to beat him

NAME: Juniper Margaret June Trevelyan

NICKNAME: Junie (childhood nickname; won't let anyone call her that), Sparker, Snowfkake, Bluetit

GENDER: Female

TAROT CARD:  Knight of Wands

HEIGHT: Short (shortest of my human guys, only taller than noya and kala lol)

ORIENTATION: Aro Bisexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Marcher Human

FAVORITE FRUIT: Cherry tomatoes (they're fruit!) (shes not much of a fruit person)

FAVORITE SEASON: Late summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Doesn't have one

FAVORITE SCENT: Hay, burnt dust, petrol, ozone

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 8

DOGS OR CATS: Both but slight dog bias

DREAM TRIP: Minrathous

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1 (she gets hot easily)

RANDOM FACT: She can make her hair sparkle like snow with ice magic

NAME: Ari Adaar

NICKNAME: ..Ari is the nickname lolol

GENDER: Agender (presents masc but doesn't identify much with human gender definitions)

TAROT CARD: The World or Seven of Cups

HEIGHT: Tall (i like to think he is a bit taller than Bull just because it's funny)

ORIENTATION: Pan and some flavour of a-spec

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Marcher Vashoth (Par Vollen parents)

FAVORITE FRUIT: Pomelo but he's allergic; 2nd choice is woodapple

FAVORITE SEASON: Winter

FAVORITE FLOWER: Elder or Jasmine

FAVORITE SCENT: Cardamon, pine needles, iron

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Black tea (w loads of sugar)

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 5

DOGS OR CATS: Neither, really

DREAM TRIP: Antiva, to Josie's place :)

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1 usually, 2 or one thick one in skyhold/very cold places

RANDOM FACT: He takes an interest in beekeeping and might get into it properly if/when he settles down

NAME: Adriel (Hawke)

NICKNAME: Addie, Pup, Magpie, Junior

GENDER: Female (has a bit of a gender crisis/ experimentation phase when she learns she's intersex but settles back on to female)

TAROT CARD: The Hermit

HEIGHT: Average to tall-ish (grows up to be about as tall as Fenris)

ORIENTATION: A-spec lesbian

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: ?? Elf (she doesn't know; probably Marcher?)

FAVORITE FRUIT: Pomegranates!

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring to early summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Pansies

FAVORITE SCENT: Fresh linen, cats (they smell good!), hot wax

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Fruity teas

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 7

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

DREAM TRIP: Kind of really curious about Tevinter actually (don't tell pa....)

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1, preferably fuzzy!

RANDOM FACT: She is scared of horses because the first time she tried to ride one it got spooked by something and threw her off

[ruanbaijie]

every month of 2023 ✨

happy new year everyone 🎇 I was tagged by @xiaolanhua [x], @deokmis [x], @morkofday [x], and @chinzhilla [x] to list my most popular and most favourite sets for 2023 - thank you for the tag!

JANUARY

most popular: spirited away - reikai (I wanted this to just be a collection of different scenes kind of thing but ended up finding specific scenes that would form a rainbow 🤡)

favourite: alice in borderland - face cards (yeah I have a thing for playing card edits)

FEBRUARY

most popular: yona of the dawn - the dark dragon and the happy hungry bunch

favourite: alice in borderland - minor arcana (I had so much fun figuring out who was who also fun fact I have an ace of wands tattoo)

MARCH

most popular: yuuri!! on ice - victuuri parallels

favourite: tomorrow - gu ryeon look book

APRIL

most popular: haikyuu!! - name meanings

favourite: alice in borderland - seasons 1 & 2 plotlines (the amount of planning that had to go into this I was questioning my life decisions every step of the way)

MAY

most popular: vanitas no carte - vanitas

favourite: the blood of youth - travelling the jianghu starter pack (this was INCREDIBLY fun to make)

JUNE

most popular: buddy daddies - how to be a good father

favourite: i told sunset about you - rainbow kaleidoscope (wanted to try something new for a rainbow edit)

JULY

most popular: given - uenoyama + gay panic (I love his dramatic gay ass)

favourite: along with the gods - the seven hells

AUGUST

most popular: tian guan ci fu - xie lian

favourite: heartbeat - seon woo hyeol (this show ended... disappointingly, but I had to make something for this chaotic blorbo)

SEPTEMBER

most popular: haikyuu - eyes

favourite: howl's moving castle - howl

OCTOBER

most popular: tian guan ci fu - shi qingxuan in s2e1

favourite: a tie between mysterious lotus casebook - difanghua hinge (or unhinged, as i've been told) profiles and the king's avatar - character profiles (for which I'd actually manually scanned the book posters)

NOVEMBER

most popular: tian guan ci fu - baby xie lian

favourite: mysterious lotus casebook - omg it's blorbo bleebus (200% would've included divorced if I could remake this 🥲🥲🥲)

DECEMBER

most popular: wuxia & xianxia shows be like (this idea has been with me for a LONG time, but I don't have a lot of wuxia/ xianxia shows saved so I hadn't done it earlier. but mlc came along and I figured hey now's a good time to do it, hence 🤡)

favourite: a tie between mysterious lotus casebook - the lotuspuff girls (I love this A LOT) and attack on titan - the final chapters (I just really like how all the scenes came together here with the somewhat consistency of the back views with different colours)

TAGGING if you haven't already done it: @tatakaeeren @inahochi @dingyuxi @krystaljungs @heroeddiemunson @spicyvampire