Writer of HL fic, game photographer, creator of MC Elsie Corvin
Archive account @determined-symphony
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Secrets of the Silent Stars:
Elsie Corvin lives a regular life under the scrutiny of her parents, always expected to do what is proper in order to someday be the best example of their family. But when a dinner party turns disastrous, she is thrust into a new world that she didn't know existed. As with all new discoveries, there is a darker side to the magic in her possession. Reluctant to be the "chosen one", she finds herself having to choose between doing what others expect from her or doing what is right.
Some secrets are best left hidden in the silence of the stars.
Ongoing
Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw F!MC
Fifth-year and post-game, slow burn friends to lovers
FIFTH YEAR: [AO3] [Wattpad]
SIXTH YEAR: [AO3] [Wattpad]
SFW
Glow in the Dark
Elsie helps her little sister Lydia get comfortable on her first night at Hogwarts.
[AO3]
Haunted Shop
Elsie buys a shop.
[AO3]
Scars
Elsie's past and magic.
[AO3]
The Girl from Uagadou
Natty's backstory.
[AO3]
Not in Time
AU if MC never made it to the catacomb in time.
[AO3]
Divination (suggestive)
Sebastian is excited to hold a girl's hand.
[AO3]
Some Like it Hot
Elsie deals with Ferdinand Octavius Pratt.
[AO3]
Crossed Wands (suggestive)
Dueling practice makes Sebastian excited.
[AO3]
The (After) Life of the Party
Elsie and Lydia's first Halloween together at Hogwarts.
[AO3]
Treacle Trouble
Elsie attempts to bake something to cheer Sebastian up.
[AO3]
Winter Wonderland (suggestive)
Sebastian tries to convince Elsie that the cold can be enjoyable.
[AO3]
right where you left me (angst)
You died. Sebastian had a portrait of you commissioned.
[AO3]
Treasure Hunt
A drabble about Elsie panic-casting
[AO3]
Golden
A fluffy oneshot of how Sebastian and Elsie spent Valentine's Day.
[AO3]
Enter, Pursued by a Dragon
Sebastian Sallow's first impression of the new fifth year.
[AO3]
Lessons With Leander
Elsie finds herself partnered with Leander for Potionâs class. The lesson is on Amortentia.
[AO3]
you left me no choice (but to stay here forever)
Sebastian Sallow refuses to believe that you are dead.
[AO3]
Five Times...
Five times Sebastian gave Elsie a nickname, and the one time she gave him one.
[AO3]
My New Dream
A Tangled Crackfic AU ft Sebastian and Elsie
[AO3]
NSFW
All characters are 18+ MDNI
The Nut Cracked
Sebastian doesn't understand muggle holiday traditions.
[AO3]
Illicit Spell Practice
The spicy version of 'Crossed Wands'.
[AO3]
I See the Light
Flynn Rider!Sebastian teaches Rapunzel (unnamed FMC) a few new things.
[AO3]
Stolen Vows
Sebastian crashes a wedding.
[AO3]
Extracurricular
A modern college AU (no magic): Elsie just wants to graduate. Sebastian is insufferable. What happens when the two of them meet?
[AO3] [Wattpad]
Sebastian Sallow modern college AU headcanons
Ominis Gaunt modern college AU headcanons
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Hate and harassment will be blocked with no second chances.
((Header and dividers by @saradika-graphics, @cafekitsune, and @ilium-ilia))
âsebastian, I canât believe you just did that!â
âhurry before Madam Snelling catches us!â
prank after prank, our laughter echoed through the streets of Hogsmeade, now but a hollow void of what used to be.
Nobody talks about how the "morally grey" love interest is usually just a normal guy having a bad week and everyone's acting like he committed war crimes
A/N: just a little silly drabble about Sebastian being a very good friend â
As always, the rain chose the worst possible moment to begin.
Cathy was only a few strides from the castle. Another second and her feet would have reached the worn stone steps. Instead, thunder cracked overhead so suddenly that she actually jumped. A fierce gust of wind swept across the grounds from nowhere, and then the heavens opened, sending a solid curtain of rain crashing onto the dry spring grass.
There was nothing for it now.
Leaving the stone path, she cut across the little meadow. Beyond the narrow bridge stood an old but sturdy wooden door which, fortunately enough, led to the quickest route back to the Slytherin common room.
Her cloak, soaked through, did little to shield her uniform from the rain. With every step, her satchel seemed to squelch in protest, while her shoes threatened to slip off her equally sodden tights.
What a disaster.
Brushing dripping strands of hair from her face, Cathy trudged on regardless, drawing a little closer to Hogwarts' welcome warmth with every step.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
At last, the icy wind was left outside.
She let out a long breath, unclasped her cloak and gathered the dripping fabric awkwardly in her arms before squelching down into the dungeons. Naturally, Peeves appeared along the way and invented a little rhyme at her expense. How thoughtful of him. Luckily she was already walking through familiar cold walls.
'Merlin's beard! I thought the dungeon walls had burst and the Black Lake was pouring in to drag us all off to the merfolk!'
The cheerful voice made Cathy stop in her tracks.
Exhausted, miserable and thoroughly fed up, she could only roll her eyes before forcing a polite smile and turning around.
Chestnut hair.
Bright brown eyes.
Freckles scattered across almost every inch of his face.
Of course.
Sebastian Sallow.
'Hello to you too, Sebastian,' the Slytherin girl replied through gritted teeth, clutching her crumpled cloak a little tighter around herself. If only it could protect her from her classmates' jokes as well as the rain.
'Bit of weather out there,' Sebastian said, looking her up and down before folding his arms. His tone remained as light-hearted as ever, yet something in his expression had changed. Softer, perhaps.
Cathy was far too tired to puzzle over whatever was going through his mind. She simply gave a faint shake of her head and looked away. How embarrassing.
'I'm absolutely soaked. I think I'll have a shower. It's freezing.'
The last words came out barely above a murmur.
Sebastian had seen her drenched before, but never looking quite so defeated. Closing the distance between them in two quick strides, he pointed at the strap of her satchel.
'Give me your bag.'
Not a request, but an order.
Too exhausted to argue, Cathy slowly slipped it from her shoulder and handed it over. Water was still dripping steadily from the leather. She grimaced.
'I'm afraid to imagine what my notes must look like...'
Sebastian merely pressed his lips together in sympathy. The satchel was surprisingly heavy, and within moments he could feel the damp soaking into his own cloak.
'Don't worry. I know a spell that'll sort them out.'
'But we're not allowed to use magic on homework.'
'No one will notice.'
'But, Sebastianâ'
He stopped so abruptly that she almost walked into him.
Though there was little difference in their height, at that moment he somehow seemed much taller. His confident grey eyes met hers without wavering.
'I said no one will notice.'
A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
'Trust me.'
Cathy managed the faintest smile in return and, lacking the energy to argue any further, simply nodded.
'Now go and have that shower. I'd rather not spend tomorrow explaining everything you've missed because you've caught a cold.'
With a grin over his shoulder, Sebastian disappeared down the staircase towards the common room, leaving Cathy alone with her thoughts. And thinking was exhausting, so she turned right instead and headed for the girls' showers.
The following morning, she woke feeling rested, refreshed and pleasantly warm. Yesterday's misery had disappeared down the drain with the rainwater. By the time she reached the common room, it was almost deserted.
For a moment, she thought she'd arrived first. Then she heard it â the faint sound of someone breathing. Following the sound into the adjoining study room, she spotted a familiar figure slumped over one of the tables.
As she drew closer, there was no mistaking him.
Sebastian.
He was asleep. Fast asleep, in fact, with his head resting on a neat stack of freshly written parchment.
Cathy froze.
Spread across the table beside him were the original pagesâher rain-soaked notes. So there hadn't been a spell after all. He had spent the entire night copying every last page by hand. Warmth rushed to her cheeks before she could stop it.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she leaned down and pressed the gentlest, lightest kiss against the crown of his head.
in my heart of hearts, ominis would exclusively wear matching pajama sets because he's always so prim and proper >:) also idk what his hair looks like when there's no pomade in it so i had to guess lol (he probably wouldn't have a middle part now i think about it)
and sebastian would wear and random band tees (i had to do a candlemass shirt cuz...i've been listening to a lot of doom metal....and seb might like it heh) and like plaid pajama pants
oh and his hair looks kinda the same (it's only slightly more messy)
and then some half ass chibis becos i got tired đ
In my lore, Cassandra is unable to summon a Patronus when she arrives at Hogwarts in her fifth year because of her unresolved trauma and grief.
After overcoming many more traumatic events (the goblinsâ rebellion, Harlow and Rookwood, the political entanglements of her past, and Sebastianâs descent into the depths of the dark arts), she will finally find a happy memoryâor rather, a cherished wishâthat brightens her gloomy view of the world.
The aknowledgement, that there's no shadow without light. And there's always a light shining, inside of you. It just needs to be found. And she'll protect hers with all her might. To never loose it again to the shadows.
Cassandras corporeal Patronus is a Golden Eagle symbolic for her desire of freedom. This lore fact was one of the first things I decided for her. And I'm so happy that I was able to create her very own patronus đ€
Summary: You were being far more forward than heâd expected, and in such little time too. He'd planned on drawing this out, but you were devouring his bait faster than he could lay it and had begun to set your hungry eyes on him. He'd have to usher in the final act now.
âY/n, wait!â Anne called, âMerlin, slow down!â
âAbso-lutely not!â You shouted.
Slowing down was a death wish. Slowing down meant youâd open your big mouth again, and considering the last time youâd done that you told Anne youâd dreamt about her twin brotherâŠÂ
Yeah, no. Sitting behind a locked bathroom door was kilometers more enticing. You hung a hard right, barreling into the Gryffindor bathrooms like a bombarda spell gone awry, and made yourself comfortable in the stall labeled âout of order.âÂ
To your dismay, however, the bathroom door swung open just as your foot drew up to settle atop the toilet seat. It was Anne, you knew it was. The silence settling afterward incriminating in the way only a Sallow could make it.Â
âGo away, Anne,â you muttered into your sleeve, âI donât want to talk about it.â
âTalk about what? How you just won? Beat the britches off Sebastian? Cause I think anyone, and frankly, everyone, would like to talk about it.â
She was right. Dethroning the Crossed Wands champion wasnât an everyday thingâ more like an every three years or so thing, and considering Sebastian had twirled the title between his fingers for just as much time, you should be in that Clock Tower celebrating, like a normal person, but no. What had you done? Youâd run, a choice that had painted âguiltyâ in bold letters down your back, and now that you were free from the boyâs searing stare, you realized as much with a giant's helping of regret. Still, despite this self reflection, that didnât mean you had to come right out and say why you really ran.
You sighed, lifting your head out of your arms to peer at the scuffed heels beneath the door.
âI just loathe all the theatrics,â you mumbled.
Silence. Another helping of that damned, incriminating silence.
âTheatrics?â Anne snorted, âYou ran from more than that.â
More than that. Her words were smug, entered without knocking, settled themselves in your living room, and kicked muddied boots atop your polished table. You pulled a mental wand to depulso the layered implication back out your door.
âWell heâs your brother,â you blurted, âYou should know.â
As soon as the words left your mouth, âguiltyâ was being painted once more over a coat that hadnât yet dried. She hadn't said a thing about Sebastian. You retreated back into your arms, but your ears were subjected to Anne's pointed footsteps heading for the vanities where her wand latched onto one of the many woes of Narcissus to drag it behind her. It detested, clawing at the stone floor until it came to a stop outside your door.
âHe is my brother,â she admitted, voice straining as her own feet disappeared from beneath the door, âAnd because heâs my brotherâŠâ the wooden legs wobbled as her head appeared over the top, eyes narrowed at her feet, ââŠI do know something.â
The vanity came to a compromising still, and Anneâs gaze landed on yourâs atop a keening grin.
âI know heâs in love with you.â
-~- Sebastian -~-
Sebastian would have to wear a tie more often.Â
He was late to class, as was the case most of the time, but this time he found his starched button-up, ironed trousers, and, dark, solid Slytherin-green tie seemed to part the sea of students before him. The last time heâd commanded this much respect was the beginning of sixth-year after heâd unknowingly grown ten or so centimeters in a single summer. Well, maybe âunknowinglyâ was a stretchâ no pun intended.
Sebastian straightened, robbing a single centimeter more from the hall as he smiled to himself. He couldnât wait to see your reaction, but more than that, he couldnât wait flirt to high heaven with you. His prior advances had always been of a veiled nature, one where he was careful not to spook you, but after last night, after a dream like that⊠he was going wake the sleeping dragon if it was the last thing he did.
âMr. Sallow, so nice of you to finally join us,â Professor Sharp intoned without so much as a glance up at the door.Â
Sebastian didnât afford him much in return. He took his place at his assigned cauldron while, discretely, but anxiously, searching the room for you. You werenât next to Anne, nor speaking to Professor Sharp. Maybe you were in the storage closet? Or perhaps with Adelaide, no. Poppy? Not there. Natty--
âMerlinâs beard, Sebastian! Dressed to the nines, aren't we? Got a hot date tonight?âÂ
The sheer volume with which Garreth announced his attire forced the Slytherin to tuck his ear toward his shoulder, and only once he'd silenced the urge to flipendo the Gryffindor headfirst into his cauldron, he straightened slowly, eyes shut over a deep sigh as he played ignorant to the twenty heads turned in his direction.
âYeah, I do, actually,â Sebastian replied, turning to split open his textbook.
Garreth grinned and leaned an elbow against his station, intent on turning up the heat not knowing the brunet thrived in it.
âAnd with who? Do tell.â
The room grew silent, but Sebastian continued to turn to the proper chapter, licking his thumb to give it a bit more traction before he delivered the name âMatilda Weasleyâ without so much as missing a beat.Â
Garrethâs hungry flame went limp, diminishing visibly until it was nothing but a charred candle wick below a wisp of smoke. Sebastian sank his molars into his cheek opposite the boy. Gagged, a response he was used to, but for some reason it was always sweeter with his redheaded peer.
Sebastian continued to feign normalcy, rolling up his sleeves as he turned to lean against his own station just in time to see your robes sweeping through the door. You hugged the wall, moving on light feet like a niffler with paws full of stolen treasure, but the ex-auror, with that profession-induced sixth sense, caught you red-handed.
âMiss y/l/n, youâre late.â
You froze, brows cringing.
âApologies, professor,â you mumbled, scuttling toward your usual place by Anne in a bid to escape the twenty heads that had now turned toward you, but Sharp had other plans⊠plans that worked wondrously in Sebastianâs favor.
âAh-,â Sharp tut, finally lifting his gaze from his desk to flick his fingers in Sebastianâs direction, âYouâll be working with the other Sallow today.â
You froze again, but this time a blush melted you from the top down. Sebastian kept his gaze on you, letting a grin settle comfortably on his features.Â
Look up, love. Go ahead.
You did, slowly. You started at his shoes, climbed up his trousers, zigzagged around his button up, then, in a way that had Sebastian folding his bottom lip between his teeth, got caught on his tie like a bee in honey. You didnât struggle, instead, your eyes widened slightly and your lashes fluttered, but in true âyouâ fashion, you slammed your attention into the floor before he could find your gaze⊠and that was exactly what heâd spend the next two hours raising to meet his challenge.Â
âGo on, â the professor sighed, âHe doesn't bite.â
Sebastian sided to his left with a softened grin, opting for a kinder, less heated expression as you settled next to him like lamb next to a wolf.
Though the Slytherin was aware of infinitely more than you could hope to dread, and knew deep down you wanted to manhandle him by the tie that hung around his neck, he wanted to take his time. He was going into this with an ace up his sleeve, and he planned on setting the stage beautifully before its reveal.Â
âAlright,â Sharp announced to the class, directing Garreth over toward Anne, âThunderbrew, on my desk, no later than noon.â
The classroom descended into languid waves of conversation as all nestled in for the two hour period. The space had become awash with sighs, grumbles, and slumped shoulders, but Sebastian stood straighter. He turned back around, gathered a knife and cutting board, then slid them over to you like a peace offering.
âWanna cut the shrivelfig?â He asked, figuring it was a far better preparation than leech juice or stench of the dead.
You nodded with a fleeting smile, âSure, thanks.â
Sebastian smiled back and pulled out his wand to float one of the purple fruits toward him, but while it made its way over, he couldnât help noticing your gaze was still tacked below even a house elfâs line of sight. That wouldnât do.
âY/n?â He voiced, as softly as possible, and still you jumped.
You acknowledged him with a glance.Â
Alright, easy does it.
âI never got to congratulate you on your victory yesterday,â he said, brushing his fingers with yours when he handed you the fig.
âOh, yeah, um, thanks⊠Waitâ not thanks for the title, cause, you know, I took it from you, so maybe, uh, maybe sorry?â
Sebastian exhaled a mix of shock and amusement out of his system, âSorry? Donât be sorry! I had to best someone to earn it myself all that time ago. It was only inevitable someone would take it from meâŠâ He paused, smiling over the measuring bowl of leech juice, âAnd Iâm glad that someone was you.â
The knife in your hands faltered, slipping down the fig to give it a decidedly wonky cut, but Sebastian pretended not to notice. The âawakeâ version of you really was affected a quidditch field and a half more than your sleeping self. Confidence. You needed confidence.
âMind sharing where you learned that kick from?â He asked, still busying himself with the measuring bowl.
You chuckled, sliding the blade evenly through the center, âI dunno, it just kind of came to me in the moment.â
âHuh. Impulsive, but still impressive⊠and might I add, dirty,â he grinned, âLooks good on you.â
He readied himself for another slip of the knife given heâd practically purred the last part, but you only ticked a brow and kept dicing.
âOnly for you,â you replied.
Sebastian donned a surprised frown and couldnât stop himself from shooting you a coy smile. That was⊠newâ a roll of distant thunder from a storm he was anxious to get caught in, one that had his very hyper-ecstatic brain somersaulting over and in on itself.
âSo,â you started, scraping the contents from your cutting board into the boiling cauldron, âyou were late too?â
âYep,â he admitted as he poured his own ingredient in after yours.
âMmm, why?âÂ
Sebastianâs heart skipped a beat. Why. The answer promised to accelerate things tenfold. He was usually quick with his words, but his wit was still in recovery.
âUh, sorry, just a second,â he stalled, patting the last of the liquid out of the bowl.
As he did so, he was subjected to yet another pressure, a new pressure, a pleasant pressure: your eyes on him. Youâd lifted them, fixed them to his âoccupiedâ gaze before they fell to inspect his forearms, then ticked up to his tie, and then below his waist.Â
Sebastian swallowed, and suddenly the heat from every station in the room was palpable. Youâd just checked him out, a fact that had blood rushing somewhere it shouldnât be in Potions of all places. Sebastian had always thought himself an unbothered individual, one rarely âcaught off guardâ or âblindsidedâ⊠âgaggedââŠ
No, he reminded himself, clearing his throat as he set the measuring bowl down. Youâve got the ace here, not her. You were being far more forward than heâd expected, and in such little time too. He'd planned on drawing this out, but you were devouring his bait faster than he could lay it and had begun to set your hungry eyes on him. He'd have to usher in the final act now.
âCanât do two things at once,â he fibbed, wiping his hands on a rag.
You nodded, gaze picking him apart.
âWhy I was late?â
âYeah. Party hard or something?â You struck smugly, like a bolt of lightning.
It was distant, but a storm nonetheless. You wanted to play, and caution, no longer a viable factor, had Sebastian sneering over his hand of cards, anxious to come out on top⊠or bottom, it didnât much matter to him.
âNah, just had trouble waking up... Or rather, didnât want to wake up.â he finally answered, settling his backside against the work table as he crossed his arms, powerless to stop the smirk that snaked onto his features when he met your gaze, âWas having a good dream.â
Your complacency fractured in the form of a flinch, one that was likely accompanied by a slew of âthereâs no way he knows,â but he did know, and he tried his absolute best to exude that fact⊠not that that was a conclusion youâd ever come to naturally.
Still, you pondered for quite a while, even seemed to nearly lose yourself in the simmering concoction below, until you broke free with a shake of your head, âSorry, stench of the dead,â you admitted, tossing a thumb at the group closest, âMesses with you head.â You took a deep breath, likely dispelling the âcrazy,â but unknowingly valid fear with a polite smile. âA dream? What was it about?â
Sebastian didnât miss a beat. He needed to add further fuel to the fear before you could dismiss it, so he answered âYou, actually,â tone informing like youâd asked him for the time.
You hiccuped, or maybe that had been a squeak? A cough? A squeak-cough. Whatever it was, he kept stirring the cauldron, let silence creep in and gather forebodingly in the stands, demanding a show.
âMe?â You clarified.
âYep, in the common room,â he added.
You stilled at the incriminating detail, like one step in either direction would snap a twig beneath your feet and alert the monster in the woods, except deep down you knew it was already watching you. The question now, it seemed, was were you going to run or stand your ground. Sebastian watched you mull it over, your gaze bouncing about the station counter.
âBy the fireplace?â You whispered, so quietly Sebastian almost didnât hear it, but in the interest of playing his cards right, he pretended he hadnât.
âHmm?â He voiced
Your gaze unfocused. You didnât answer. You were too busy battling impossibilities to acknowledge him. Instead, you shoved the part of you that wanted to fight down deep which left 'running' as your only option. You turned, fleeing into a small ingredient closet nearby.Â
Not so fast.
Sebastian pushed off of the work station and followed after you, catching the closing door of the space so he could slide in after you.Â
You'd been quick to busy yourself, distract yourself. You were reaching for a jar of inferi bones one shelf too high for you, the coverage of your skirt stressed to its limits, something that was doing little to tame the taller Slytherinâs intentions.Â
âYou need help with that?â He asked, his forced normalcy losing its edge.
You didnât respond. You'd taken interest in pretending none of this was happening, so you committed to the bit, strained harder, finger tips brushing the base of the jar.
Sebastian watched you struggle stubbornly, keeping your back turned, because, in your defense, ignorance was the only sane response to what he was suggestingâ that heâd shared your dreams, seen your darkest desires⊠and yet he had. Youâd wished for them, conjured them, wanted them, wanted him, and that fact cornered his resolve to fluster the sin out of you. He stepped forward, planting himself directly behind you so the fringes of your skirt brushed his hips.
âUse your words love,â he recited, looking down at you as he lifted his fingers to glide up the arm youâd extended.
You shuddered, lashes fluttering when his touch wrapped around your wrist and settled on your hip. He tugged you away from the shelf, lowering your arm as he did so he could guide it through Sectumsempra, just as he had the first night.Â
âTell me what you want?â He continued.
The combination flicked the switch in your mind. Realization poured over you like a waterfall, drenching your expression in rouge and parted your lips as you seemed to jump between the two heart-stopping ways this could go, but deep down Sebastian knew which it would be.Â
âYou, SebastianâŠâ you whispered, leaning into him.
Sebastian sighed and his touch retreated up your arm to grace down the column of your neck.
âMe?â He smiled, following the script as he dipped his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, âWhat do you need from me?â
You swallowed. You knew what youâd said next beneath the guise of sleep, but your composure was fighting it, fighting a side of you heâd seen and wasnât afraid of⊠a fact that eventually slipped the veil from your face and pooled it at his feet.
Sebastian watched it settle, possess you. You turned, found his gaze, and there it was: The Look. The silken, poisonous stare of a cobra, raised and lulled to dance by a melody heâd crafted and played⊠a look he could never forget. And then you played your part, brazenly.
âI need, gods,â you spoke in turn, taking on the tone youâd whimpered into his ear the previous night.
Sebastianâs heart pounded, desperate and terrified all at the same time. You'd given in, and suddenly he felt the part a hunter, bow trained, arrow nocked, only now his prey had locked eyes with him and hadnât run. You saw the glint of your demise, and still you moved closer, dared him to âshoot.â
âSebastianâŠâ you called.
He leaned closer, entranced, bewitched.
âI needâŠâ you continued, lifting your electric touch so it brushed against his thigh, â⊠your cock.â
Sebastianâs jaw clenched and his frame stiffened when your fingers wrapped around him through his pants. They squeezed, and you found what had plagued him since heâd entered the space with a soul-eating smirk. You gave him a stroke and he choked on a groan. Then another. He released the breath heâd held with a trembling shudder.
"Fuck, love-" he started, but you stilled.
âThe Astronomy Tower, tonightâŠâ
He nodded, gaze pinned to the way the words looked falling from your lips as his hips chased your touch.
â⊠just after curfew. Meet me there.â
Another stroke and his vision trimmed with tears. You scoffed, somehow looking down at him despite your position beneath him, and slipped passed him.Â
He stayed. Stuck to the floorboards beneath his feet. Heart hammering, throat closing. All at the behest of a sultry, spellbinding, soul-entrapping, set of eyes.
- - -
<<< Previous Chapter
A.N. I know I said this part would be published Friday at 8 PM PST like I was some professional or something... but the quality of this part at 8 PM PST was not up to by STANDARDS. Been workin' workin' day'n'night (literally just five additional hours) to give you a part 3 worth your time.
She's not one to whine nor wheep. She's the one who's putting the flowers on the graves of her enemies. Don't mess with this dark beauty! bc I love her and I was the one gifting her the bouquet, figuratively speaking đđ€
