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Willkommen im Bound by Blood. Wir sind ein Fandom/Mystery RPG das an die Serie Shadowhunters angelehnt ist. Unser Board exestiert schon 2 Jahre, bei den Important Information könnt ihr alles nachlesen was passiert ist sowie auch das längst Vergangene! Das Board orientiert sich an der Serie aber auch mit Elementen aus den Büchern. Genauso gibt es bei uns die Möglichkeit eigene Rassen mit einfliesen zu lassen, wenn sie unserem Setting entsprechen, jene könnt ihr bei der Charaktervorstellung vorstellen und wir schauen ob wir hamonieren könnten! Ihr könnt und dürft gerne bei uns mitwirken, wenn gewünscht, doch auch hat das Team viele eigene Ideen, um euch genügend Plots zu bieten. Unser Rating ist auf FSK 18 gesetzt. Wir spielen nach dem Prinzip der Szenentrennung und verfügen über keine Mindestpostlänge. Wir schreiben unsere eigene Geschichte, bei der ihr euch gut einbringen könnt. Es sind übernatürliche Wesen, wie Nephilim, Engel, Dämonen, Hexenmeister, Vampire, Werwölfe, Elben und andere Wesen gestattet. Interesse? Dann melde dich an und werde ein Teil von uns!
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Ein Blick auf den Kalender verrät uns, dass April - Juni 2010 unseren Zeitraum zeigt. Der April wurde - seinem Ruf vollständig gerecht und sorgte mit einem Wetterumschwung für einen markanten Wetterwechsel, der es in sich hatte. Doch nach dem April wurde es allmählich wärmer und wärmer von mindestens 6° bis zu einer Spitzentemperatur von 34° Grad. Die nächste Vollmonde sind am: Samstag, 16. April 2010 | Montag, 16. Mai 2010 | Dienstag, 14. Juni 2010

» Inplay-Monate: April-Juni 2010
» Tage: Montag bis Sonntag
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14.11 2 Jahre Bound by Blood!!!
18.09 Neue an das Inplay angepasste Storyline, Zeitsprung, Neue Rasse, Was bisher geschah & Timeline
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12.03 Der alte Plot und das Spieljahr 2009 ist beendet. Wir befinden uns nun im Jahr 2010 im Inplay. Der neue Plot wird die Tage gestartet.
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07.11 Das Forum ist bald fertig und wird die nächsten Tage eröffnet werden.
  The marks that can't be erased
<g12>Leonidas di Angelo</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  18.08.2022, 16:46 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010






Cold. Absolute darkness. Only the sound of his own breathing filled the room. He had learned to live with it, had let a part of it into his soul, had voluntarily given up a certain area in order not to be completely eaten up by it. Under his almost completely worn boots the floor of concrete, which as well as the bare walls radiated only icy coolness. With its iron claws it reached for him, crawled under his torn and dirty clothes and his unwashed skin, tugged at his limbs and wanted to bore deep into his bones, but he slipped away from it again and again. She screeched in frustration of the missed meal and decided to punish him even further with her sharp knives, some of which just slid over him and left their marks. But neither these nor the complete uselessness of his eyesight were the worst part of this situation. It was his thoughts, which felt like two voices - that of his heart and that of his brain. How long since I have been here? How much longer? Soon? In a short time? Today? - 'Never?’ - What would the Clave say? Can I risk it? Should I do it? He's a mundie... - 'No, he's a monster.'

In the next instant, pain exploded on his chest. A tingling and burning sensation stretched across it, momentarily robbing him of all breath. Staggering, he strode back, his hand over the cut feeling the pulsation and heat of his blood. Gasping for breath, he fell to his right knee, trying to control the pounding of his head as well as the dizziness that seemed to overtake him. He had not considered this possibility of attack and had not reacted quickly enough. Inwardly he scolded himself for this, he should have thought of it. "Better and yet... fatal", his counterpart instructed him with a neutrality, as if he did not see the wounded teenager in front of him, as if he had not caused the injury. "On your feet!", he ordered. While the cut wasn't too deep, it still threw Leonidas completely off his game after hours of training and the small amount of food he had eaten over the past few days. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't get back up anytime soon. "Again," his counterpart now growled, eyeing the blood on his blade just as callously as the boy himself. "Up you go!" the words rang out to him. Gathering all his strength, he tried to struggle to his feet, feeling the queasiness rising within him and choosing to ignore it. Nevertheless, he did not return to the fighting position. Black dots danced up and down before his eyes. His heart raced wildly in his chest. Stop it... Stop... Just... stop! A metallic flash... darkness...


Again and again these questions circled around in his head, haunting him until they suddenly changed. A bitterness resonated in them, as well as the rumble of determination that brought the voices to an agreement. No longer. - 'No more.'
The sweet metallic taste of blood still on his tongue, he startled at the sound of the door and jumped to his feet. The nightmare still deep in his bones, he instinctively reached for the pistol holstered at his side and pointed it at the figure. The sudden light made him blink hard a few times, but he kept his gaze and the unlocked pistol fixed and surprisingly calm on the person. A mixture of panic, pain and bitter determination flashed in his eyes, while his chest rose and fell in a rapid, almost hysterical rhythm. Only slowly did he perceive where he was. No basement... A young woman on the other side of the bed... Not him... "Serafina?", his voice brittle and rough, almost hopeful and at the same time uncertain, while his hands were now clearly shaking. First slowly something, when he had realized, he was no longer there, but here, in the institute, and suddenly rapidly as if by a tremor, when he had realized, it was his friend standing there. Swallowing heavily he lowered the gun, his eyes glancing wetly with upcoming tears he tried to suppress.










written by
<g12>Serafina Rossi</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  19.08.2022, 08:37 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




A few nights had passed since she arrived at the New York City Institute. While waiting for lady sleep to wrap her loving arms around Serafina, the girl tossed and turned in her sheets. They felt wrong on her skin, smelled too different from home. She missed being able to open the windows and smell the all too familiar scents that made everything so special. Missed feeling the warm, comforting air on her face, moving her hair. The tickling sensation that sunlight left on her skin. This city was different. Dark and uncomfortable, almost to an extent where it was depressing just to open one’s eyes.
The room she resided in was covered in dark wooden panels that continued all the way to the ceiling. Considering the continuous use of dark tones, even the occasional pop of crème or gold accents didn’t help. Eventually, she gave up trying to fall asleep. Turning over, she tapped the small alarm clock that was placed on her nightstand. “Fuck’s sake”, she groaned, planting her face back on the sheets for a couple of breaths. Accepting that she wouldn’t find any more sleep tonight, she crawled out of bed and headed to her en-suite bathroom. Her reflection spoke louder than words. She looked beat, her hair doing whatever it wanted. With a sigh of defeat escaping her lips, she bent over to brush her teeth and washed her face before slipping into something that was acceptable to wear around here. Dressed into her workout clothes which consisted of high waisted pants, a sports bra and long-sleeved shirt as well as running shoes and fingerless leather gloves, she started strapping her daggers – one being an athame, the other a pugio – to her left leg. Sliding them into their respectable holsters one by one, and lastly, adding her stele and a gun she had been using since the age of 14. It was similar to a Glock 22 as the police force of the Mundanes used them, except that it was crafted by Shadowhunters and covered in runes. Even if she did not have specially made bullets to shoot and kill demons with – which she did – she figured that even with regular bullets it would still hurt like a bitch to get shot. Enough so to get the chance to make a move on the creature she was hunting.

Training cleared her head. It hadn’t been that long since she started taking herself and her job seriously. Because of that, she had missed out on tons of training lessons she only vaguely recalled, so she had to make use of every chance she got to catch up on the others. After all, even with Leonidas back in the picture, she wanted to rise higher in the Shadowhunter world. Prove her worth to herself and others.
Two hours had passed since she left her bed and headed to the training area, which, to no-one’s surprise, had two other hunters training. Sleep really didn’t come easy in this city.
After wiping herself down with a towel and emptying her water bottle, she started heading back to the sleeping quarters. Zoning out, she wandered around without a specific place in mind. It was only when she started hearing stressed, nearly terrified short breaths being drawn in a room close to her that she came back to her senses. The panting came from Leonidas’ room, to which she had mindlessly wandered. For a split second, that thought crossed her mind that he might take her to be a clingy, bothersome girl for coming to his room at ass-o’clock, but her Shadowhunter instincts kicked in before she could really grasp said thought properly.
Without hesitation she pulled out her beautifully decorated athame, as well as a witchlight crystal. Serafina’s body went full Shadowhunter mode and opened the door to his room before even realizing it. What she had expected to be going down in this room, she could not tell, but it would definitely not have been whatever she just got confronted with.

On the other side of the bed, he was standing there with a weird expression on his face, gun in his hands. Aimed directly at her. His hair and clothes were messy, yet, his bed was made. Sheets untouched. She did not know how well he could aim, but she assumed he would be able to hit the target, even if he had just woken up. Prepared to feel pain within split seconds, her whole body tensed, awaiting the all too familiar sensation. It didn’t come. ‘Serafina?’ The brittle sound of his voice, paired with that mix of emotion which had flashed in his eyes, felt worse than a shot fired from that pistol would have. Uncertain what she should do, she nodded, eyes fixed on him. “You’re alright, Leonidas”, she whispered, knowing very well he was anything but fine. Slowly lowering her hands, she sheathed her dagger and slid her crystal back into her pocket. Without breaking eye-contact, she relaxed her muscles. Somehow, all she wanted to do was jump over his bed and hug him. Yet, she didn’t. She did not know what had happened to him, and similarly to when she arrived at the Institute, she couldn’t be sure if he would be fine with it or not. Though, the impulse was strong, almost knocking her off her feet. Careful not to startle him, she gently made her way around the bed, where she realized that he had seemingly slept in his clothes. Pressing her lips tightly, she sighed. “You look like shit.” Obviously, she didn’t mean in general, but meant that he looked like he’d had a rough night. Conflicted about what to do, she guardedly inched her hand closer to his, reaching for his fingers in the attempt to provide comfort and grounding.









written by
<g12>Leonidas di Angelo</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  20.08.2022, 09:10 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




The sensation of the nightmare still clinged onto him for a couple of moments. Every bone of his body ached in sympathy phantom pain. The wound which Reggie had caused in his dream had healed and just left a medium bold scar which still burned after waking up. Every inch of himself remembered what it had been like, training day by day, earning bruises for not thinking every possibility through, being too slow, too undecided, too shy, too soft. Over the years he had changed to a more stoic self, enduring every kind of terror and fighting through it, learned to adapt swiftly to every scenario and to keep his emotions in check, suppress them even. No one should be able to read him, guess his next move, probably even think he was just a harmless boy – or now, young man. No one should want to hurt him, guess they could be able to. However, there was something inside of him, still luring and waiting for the right moment. Almost like he had different stages. Roughly sketched: The first one was the rather seemingly gentle one where he would argue with logic and rationality and simply dodge attacks, the second where he fought to bring his opponent to surrender without major damage, the third to knock the other one out and the forth to kill. The latter one could be divided into even more precise stages, rating from those with mercy and humanity to the one where he had only one goal – to assassin every target. The latter bigger stage he stepped into extremely rarely. However, he had had outbreaks before with his … ‘trainer’. Everything was alright till you would note a change. Not particularly in his body language or fighting techniques – in his eyes. Once Reggie phrased it this way: “There is a fire inside of you. A flame that can’t be extinguished. And behind it lurks a lion ready to break free and ravish anything and anyone in your way. Together - the fire and the lion are unstoppable.” But he never was in his dreams. His nightmares only showed the darkest side of it, the times he got injured, he was alone – oh so alone and vulnerable.

The moment he heard the door open, he was on his feet and ready to shoot. The gun in his hands, a Beretta M9, he could quickly grab the army knife at the pocket of his leg or one of his chakrams which were secured on either of his sides. In this moment, he clearly did not care about any manners, only to survive a potential attack. Taking some time to recognize her, he did not shoot and asked questions later. Watching her with eagle eyes, her nod wasn’t enough to convince him. The back of his shirt damp from sweat the cold hit him again, oh so familiar the feeling. What if she was just an illusion? A trick of his mind like everything around him and he was still in this dark … No! Tilting his head slightly he lowered his gun slowly, still prepared to lift and shoot as he did not secure it. Only when the dagger disappeared out of her hands and she relaxed visibly, did he do that without even looking at his hands. His eyes on her, he slowly got rid of the images and negative thoughts inside of his head which tried to trick him into thinking he was still back there. Sliding the gun back in its holster when she was standing in front of him, he looked into her face when she phrased the obvious. However, this time no smile appeared magically on his lips like it always did when she was around.

Nonetheless, his heart had started to slow down and fell back into a strong and faster but still gentle rhythm. Not thinking about that now, he snatched her wrist out of the air as she tried to touch him. A little bit too harsh and fast which he realized himself. Loosening his grip, he lifted her hand and gently, soft kissed its back as a sign of being sorry. Through his wild strands of hair he shortly closed his eyes during that before he opened them again, locking eyes with her. ”I am sorry…”, his voice still rough like he was about to start to cry every second now. Swallowing hard, he lowered her hand before he let go of her wrist completely. ”I didn’t … I couldn’t… I could never…”, he stuttered silently, exhaling deeply to calm his nerves. ”It’s been rough...” Was he really ready to tell her? At least a bit more? Not everything, that was too much. But just… Would she still want to stay here after what she had just witnessed and experienced? Would she want to hear it?











written by
<g12>Serafina Rossi</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  21.08.2022, 14:26 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




Panic and pain were written all over his face, combined with something else entirely, if only for mere moments. It was the eyes which gave it away. Still, it hurt her, as she could feel her heart clenching tightly in her chest. For months after his initial disappearance, she had thought of what he might’ve been going through at the time. The hardships he might’ve been enduring then. Whatever it had been, it wasn’t over, that much she knew now. Not for Leonidas, and, in return, not for her, either. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, since she’d told him she wouldn’t pressure him. Right now, the questions weighed heavy on her shoulders, alongside of the cold, stinging pain inside her rib cage. Heart racing, pounding mercilessly against the shell that was her body. She hated it. Every little bit that she knew, she hated. That she couldn’t save him, and that he had suffered. Alone.
Like many other Shadowhunters, she slept with a weapon under her pillow. For her, it was her pugio, a gift she’d received from her nonna before she’d passed. For him to be sleeping completely dressed, armed to the teeth with a variety of weapons … Serafina didn’t even know what to think of it. Slowly trying to swallow the lump in her throat, she kept back the mountain of questions that were buzzing around in her head.
The blue marbles had their gaze fixed on Leonidas. How his chest was moving under his breath, the state of his hair and his clothes, even the muscles under the fabric. And, of course, the hand that was holding the gun, as he was sliding it back to the place it belonged.
His expression stayed the same even after she spoke. Her face mirrored the pain she had seen glistening in his eyes before, with a deeply rooted sadness and tears welling up, clouding her sight. When she had seen him a couple of days ago, she’d had this incredibly strong desire to hug him. Right now, this urge was even harder to control. Sera clenched her jaw, her fingers moving restlessly as she was considering if it was alright to hug him or not. When he suddenly clenched her wrist, she winced, though, she did not pull back. But he quickly realized how hard he was grabbing her, and apologetically kissed her hand. If this had happened in any other situation, her heart would have skipped a beat, but the seriousness of this moment had no room for these things. Not now. When he looked at her after closing his eyes, she could feel her eyes betray her. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at him. The moment he let go of her hand, something broke inside her. A gentle sob escaped her throat, but she bit her lip to hold it in. Every second that passed was testing her.
Scared she could startle him, she moved towards him slowly until the tips of their shoes almost touched. Never breaking eye contact, though she couldn’t really see much at this point. Now it was her turn to grab his hand, and she did so gently. Carefully. “Can I?”, she breathed with suppressed sobs in her voice. When he nodded, her walls crumbled down for the second time that week. Sera squeezed his hand before letting go of it, only to slide her own around his waist. She could feel the dampness of the shirt he was wearing, feel the tenseness of his muscles under her fingertips. Just like before she buried her face at the part where his neck met with his collarbones. Ripping off the gloves she was wearing, she threw them on the ground before burying her hands in his shirt and hair. Drops of sweat were creeping down her hands, but she didn’t care at all. Even that she was pressing her whole body against him was unimportant. All she cared about was to provide him with comfort. “You’re alright now, Leonidas”, she mumbled. “You’re safe. You’re with me.” Her shoulders were shaking, and Sera was choking on her words, still sobbing. “You’re with me”, she repeated over and over in between suffocating sobs.









written by
<g12>Leonidas di Angelo</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  21.08.2022, 19:49 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




In this moment he showed his vulnerability, his suffer. The mirrors of one’s soul, called eyes, opened up towards her, cleared the view only for a few seconds but enough for her to be able to see parts of his broken soul. The crying boy in its center, still trying to smile through the darkness around him to keep up the light he was radiating whilst an adult version of himself took in every stinging pain, every torture, to protect the little one. Nearly pinned to the ground, held by invisible chains around his arms and legs. Like different shells they tried to keep the boy inside him safe. The one who could still smile, grin, laugh and bring joy and other emotions to the surface. The one who could joke around. The one who was his old self, his old persona. The one who could still love. This boy was so precious, so much more worth than anything, he kept him buried deep inside him to protect him. At a first glance, you wouldn’t understand. Most people just got to know the distant, cold, analytic and rational Leonidas. Few remembered him, realized how his personality had changed. Even less would ever hear the whole story behind it.
After his arrival here he tried to sleep in the bed but as soon as he laid down to rest, he couldn’t fall asleep. It felt… wrong. The mattress, the warmth, the comfort… everything felt awkward. At first, he had slept in one of the chairs but after waking up with several spots of pain in his back and neck, he had preferred the floor. Carrying all the weapons made him feel more comfortable than with just one or two by his side. Besides he was always ready when he wore his full outfit.

Her expression changing from surprise to one full of pain, claws grabbed his heart, tried to crush it and to dig their sharp nails inside him like small blades piercing it. The same tears clouded her eyes, however, he did not know why. Why would she cry? He hadn’t … He didn’t… hurt her…? Did he? Aware he hadn’t shot, he couldn’t categorize nor locate the source of her own pain besides… him?! That wasn’t possible, wasn’t logical, wasn’t rational… Her wincing was another sign he realized when he grabbed her wrist out of a self-defense-reflex. What was he afraid of? Not her, definitely not her. She could be dangerous and deadly if she wanted to, but in this case with him… no. But she could the skeptical doubt inside of him, the caution whispered in his mind, tried to wrap him into their reality of everything and everyone being able to hurt him, want to hurt him. However, he shook it off and apologized for his mistake with gestures and words. When he was able to look at her again, he froze. Tears ran down her cheeks, glistering in the light. More needles were punched into his hammering heart with full force. The pain spreading to every scar around it, following the cross-ways of every oh so small line of healed tissue, connecting his chest with his arms, his neck, his stomach, his back all the way down to his lower body, so that his whole body felt the burning ache. When she grabbed his hand softly, realization hit him like a truck. He was the cause of all her suffering, her tears. Exactly what he never wanted, what he had told her, he didn’t want to be…

Only able to nod slightly, he felt her taking in the same position like a few days ago. Burying her face in his soft skin, while her hands grabbed his shirt and hair. Exhaling shakily and deeply, his own arms wrapped around her instantly. Their full-body contact not worrying nor un-comforting in the slightest, he pressed her closer so not a single thin page could fit in between them. Inhaling her scent he calmed down in a matter of seconds, the majority of his muscles relaxing. Only those who held her still tensed, like he was afraid if he let her go, just loosened his grip slightly he would loose her. One hand in the middle of her back pressing her close softly, the other one rested at the base of her skull on the back. Gently buried in her hair, he nuzzled the joint between her skull and neck with such care and loveliness you wouldn’t think he was able to. Closing his eyes he couldn’t prevent his own tears running down his cheeks, sprinkling on her cheek as well as they held each other close. ”I hear you…”, his cracked voice whispered husky, ”… I see you...” Trying to calm her down, he was just focused on her own well-being. Tender his upper hand moved, caressing her through her hair. Surely, they were able to feel the others heartbeat hammering against their rip cages, felt the pain of the other one through it. Every beat of hers his started to tremble, forcing itself to change its rhythm, adapting to hers till they beat synchronously. ”Don’t cry… please… don’t cry”, he begged her sobbing as he felt his heart breaking more and more every passing second, well aware it was far too late for asking her that. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being in this state because of him. His own shoulders shrugging, his body shaking from his own tears of sadness and pain.
Loosing every track of time, he couldn’t tell how long they stood there, embracing one another heartily and closely. Feeling his eyes drying he wasn’t able to cry anymore. His body only slightly shivering as a left-over and from the cold sweat drying. Their puffed cheeks together, he didn’t dare to separate them, at first. ”I never wanted to leave you…”, he whispered into her ear. Not anyone of his family, not his friends, not the Shadowhunters. But he knew he couldn’t promise her to never do it again. Their life wasn’t without risks and he didn’t wanted to swear something he couldn’t keep up. The thumb of the hand on her back drawing small circles. Parting their cheeks only for a few inches, he kissed hers softly, showing her his affection before leaning his against hers again slightly. ”I will tell you… parts of it… if you… want to…”, he could finally manage to say.










written by
<g12>Serafina Rossi</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  22.08.2022, 16:48 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




Arguably, Sera had always had her issues with controlling her feelings or keeping her thoughts to herself. Ever since her early childhood she had felt the constant need to express herself clearly to avoid any sort of confusion. Exactly the kind of things she was now struggling with herself, since she was prone to overthink and overanalyze every possible situation, reading too much into it in the end of coming to the wrong kind of conclusion. As a result, she misunderstood a lot of things that weren’t even meant the way she perceived them. Which, to no-one’s surprise, had made her bitter in the process. She was vulnerable and open, even if only on the inside.
Fragile.
Tears filling her eyes was nothing new. However, it had been a while since she had shed some in thought of her childhood best friend before his return. She had accepted his death and tried her best to move on. Now, all of those feelings, all of the pain she had been through, seemed almost trivial. It was nothing compared to the pain she could see in Leonidas’ eyes, reflected right in her expression. Like a mirror, just a little more honest.
Little did she know of what was going on inside of his head, but she wanted to know. More than that, she wanted him to know, that she would be there for him. Experiencing loss and grief in their purest, rawest forms stripped her of a lot of things. Never did she want to go through those things again. She would not lose her friend a second time. No way in hell she would let that happen.
Anger, sadness. Even sorrow, desperation and dread seeped through her when Leonidas embraced her. Somehow, she thought like she should feel relieved, but she didn’t. Sera could feel his skin on hers, his breath brushing her cheeks and neck, moving her hair. There wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t touching his. She didn’t mind, and neither did he. Slight relief tugged on her heartstrings as she felt his muscles relaxing, though he was still holding her close. The fact that he had such a different side to him – so vulnerable, so broken – pained her more than anything. Back when they were kids, he had always been charismatic, even at his young age. Winning everyone over with his ambitious yet empathic character. Compared to the boy she loved so dearly back then, there seemed to be nothing left of him. When they met a couple days back, he had been open and relaxed to some degree, though, as she had observed during the time they had spent in the presence of other Shadowhunters, he hid that side of his. No joking, no smiles. Pristine, controlled perfection, paired with the annoying aura of authority and leadership. The boy in her arms was none of those things.

It seemed like they tried to calm the other one down respectively. Losing all sense of time, they just stood there, embracing each other. Gently running their fingers through each other’s hair and over their backs. She wanted to answer him, she really did. But her sobbing made it impossible to form words, let alone cohesive sentences. So, she just shook her head, well, as much as she could whilst being in a tight embrace. Eventually, she felt him shivering. Though she did not want to, she mentally prepared herself to let go of him should he want to gain some distance. His breath tickled her ear and neck when he spoke, sending chills down her spine. Her fingers in his hair and on his back tensed. “I know it couldn’t have been by choice”, she replied, her voice barely a whisper, brushing her nose against his skin. The life of a Shadowhunter was full of dangers, they both knew that. That’s why they were training so hard. To stay alive, to fight, and to protect. Getting a second chance at life, at their friendship they once had, it all felt oddly … off. “I know it…” Sera’s voice cracked, and she could not bring herself to talk any more.

When he pulled back, she was ready to let go of him, even if she did not want to. Not really, at least. Thankfully, he did not distance himself from her too much, as he had only meant to gain enough space to gently kiss her cheek. With eyes still teary and worn from her crying, she closed them, drawing a sharp breath. “I will listen. Whenever you’re ready.” Leaning back just enough to see his eyes, she managed to smile ever so slightly. “I told you I would.” The way they held it each other meant a lot to her. Sera was glad that they were able to start back where they had left off at children. Friends. Family. Obviously important to one another, being able to lend a hand or provide emotional support. Reassurance. Still meeting the gaze of his beautifully green marbles, she removed her hands from his back and out of his hair, only to carefully slide them over his chest. Slowly moving them upwards, they made their way over his shoulders until they finally reached his face. Each of them cupping his cheeks, she gently held his face in place. “I’ve missed you so much, Leonidas.” Tears started clouding her view yet again. “Words can’t possibly describe how relieved I was to see you back alive.” A short laugh escaped her mouth. “Even if I was beyond pissed that you didn’t tell me sooner.” Her thumbs were wandering over his skin, tracing the skin under his eyes, along his cheekbones, brushing away the residue of tears he had cried. “Leonidas…”, Sera breathed, before lightly pulling his face closer. Coming up on her tiptoes, she moved her face above his, softly placing her lips on his forehead for a couple of seconds. In a heartbeat she was back on her feet, though, she was pressing her forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. “By the way”, she then said, mildly chuckling, “You smell really bad.”









written by
<g12>Leonidas di Angelo</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  23.08.2022, 08:49 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




An open book. That's what she had always been. Her emotions served on a silver plate, he didn't need much knowledge or skill. Just his eyes, just watching her. The drop of her expression, the slight frowns, the twitching of the corner of her mouth, the rolling of her eyes, her lips pressed together - all details he took one with just a glimpse and could read her emotions from that. Most - even himself after his training with the Mundane - considered it a weakness, showing those so openly. However, deep inside him he knew they could be the greatest of strength, a source of energy.

The first few days, he thought about his family and friends constantly. Were they looking for him? Would they find him? When would they be here? To save him. Weeks passed, then months, a year, two, till reality hit him hard. No one would come, no one found him - of they had even searched for him. The only one who could save him was he himself. Life taught him the lesson, he could and should only rely on himself. However, he didn't adapted that completely. Still he was a good team player, more like the leader, and certainly a protector. The latter not proofed to Sera till now. Holding her tight and close he almost seemed like he wanted to shield her from everything around them, wanted to take away her pain. Without a question he would if he could, would infuse it into himself, trading it with parts of the light from the boy inside of him, just so she wouldn't feel it, so she would smile again. Normally, he didn't show how broken he is. Not around others at least. However, Serafina brought out a completely different side of him where he allowed himself to remove his mask and show what's underneath. He didn't have to be strong around her. Almost like a miracle. Between them was some kind of bond, broader than normal friendship, which connected them somehow. Even after all those years she didn't need to earn his trust as he still did trust her blindly. During their first training session he had realized it ultimately. The chemistry between them, their bickering, their … whatever it was, grew stronger every second they were around each other.

The soft chills and shivers they had were caused by one another's slight moves. Their breathes tickling their skins. Her fingers curled deeper into the fabric of his shirt and hair as she tried to hold onto him, feel him with every fiber of her being. They knew they had never wanted anything that happened the past five years. And now they enjoyed for single second together. Shivering he prevented himself from sighing at the soft brush of her nose against him. Drawing back a bit he looked into her eyes, shortly catching a glimpse of the rest of her face to see her smile. One forming on his own lips, it was overshadowed by a bit of silent pain, almost a bit shallow like one saw his smile on the surface of the water. Nodding slightly that he had understood. Forcing his eyes to stay on hers, his skin twitched under her touch, his chest shivering had he felt the phantom pain there lately. However, they hands worked some kind of magic, stroke it away. Would she feel the slight ups and downs of his scars under his shirt? Trapped in her ocean eyes, he drowned in their soft glance. Holding his breath when her hands met his cheeks, his heart drummed faster with this strange sensation from the past days every time they got this familiar. Listening to every word he felt the pain, the sorrow. His heart ached and burned, skipping and jumping inside of his chest like a bird trying to free itself from the cage called his rib cage. His voice shaking, he was so honest: "I have missed you too" it wasn't a small speech like hers but the emotions in his voice were enough to convince everyone of its truth. Turning his head slightly, he couldn't decide whether side to turn to choosing her left, he leaned his cheek into her hand and closed his eyes again. Taking some deep breaths to calm even more, the sound of his name out of her mouth let his eyes fly open immediately. Leaning down a bit towards her, he helped her to reach his forehead and place a kiss on it. A smile tugged on his lips as his heart started to roar with applause and happiness. The next he did not expect but smiled gently at her. His eyes flashing loving, his hands which had rested on her lower back, still more on the upper part than the lower one, moved up a bit and snaked towards her side. "Pardon me but you are one to talk", he returned the favor. Keeping the eye contact he lifted her up the next moment, her body lighter than he had estimated. Holding her gently and securely he walked with her towards the bath room, setting her back on her own feet in front of the shower. Their lips shortly brushing over each other. "Both of us could need one", it was obvious what he meant. And he would let her go first. Fresh towels draped over the towel rack, enough for two even if she would use two towels for herself. Still he stayed with her, drowning in her blue marbles. His lips still prickling from their contact. "Take your time", he added softly, only slowly and internally resisting against stepping back, turning towards the door. If she did not stop him, he would leave her in the bath, closing the door behind her and waiting till it was his turn.










written by
<g12>Serafina Rossi</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  23.08.2022, 11:00 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




Slowly but steadily relief started to settle in, overshowing her fears of what he had been going through. Not just when he had been gone, but also now that he was back. Whatever had happened to him during those years, had left its scars on his soul. Of the ones it had left on his body, however, she did not know for now. When she was sliding her hands over his chest and neck, she did not realize how bad it actually was, since she had been to focused on the emotional connection they shared. Selfishly, Serafina was glad to hear that he had missed her, too. Just as a general thing, it had always been that way, and maybe now it would turn out to be even worse than how it had been when they were kids. Back then she had been jealous about every little secret he might have had with the other children – especially a certain someone that, all to her displeasure, also currently resided at the New York Institute. Though for now, she would consider it to be the simple jealousy that one had when they were afraid their best friend would be taken away from them. Won over by someone else, leaving them behind. Had she known of Leonidas’ feelings for the girl back then, it would’ve been worse. A little part of her always feared for what it had been; the way he had looked at Ly and watched her smile. These feelings had been the catalyst for her and Sera’s difficult relationship. Now that he was back, she was scared to death that history might actually just repeat itself, with the possibility of her losing her best friend all over again. Just, well, emotionally. Thankfully though, he did not push her away. Especially not when they had shared moments alone together, and it made her feel less affected by her anxiety. Being older than back then, and in most cases, more aware, did not yet change a lot for her. For now, he was still more something like a brother to her than anything else. One she simply loved very dearly.

Heart starting to pick up its pace, she smiled even wider. Then, realization about how close they were, uhm, physically, hit her. Just moments before it had not mattered to her as much, but now that the tears stopped flowing and her sobbing had turned into a soft chuckle, she started to actually feel him on her body. As always, she tried to conceal her growing embarrassment and said the first thing that came to mind: they both needed a shower. Like, seriously.

When Leonidas lifted her up, she gasped in surprise, placing her hands on his shoulders to gain some stability. “Leonidas!”, she shrieked, but then, she chuckled. Probably out of nervosity which was kicking in. Sera was hyperaware of every muscle in his body that was pressed against hers, especially his hands on her sides. Her skin started tingling where he touched her, and she could feel the warmth of his body seeping onto her even through their layers of clothes. Thoughts of their emotional breakdown were wiped from her thoughts, and all she could focus on was the young man carrying her towards his bathroom. Okay, now she was definitely jittery. What on earth was he planning to do? Walk her into the shower and turn it on with her still in his arms?
As much as her whole head was spinning, it abruptly came to a halt as he put her down. She should have felt her feet touching the floor, but instead all she felt was the brief feeling of their lips brushing past another. Her skin grew even hotter, and the tips of her ears, though covered behind her hair, were burning red. She was shocked, but not so much about the almost-kiss-thing – okay, she was kinda freaking out about it – but more so the fact that Leonidas seemed completely unphased by it. Just mere days ago he had looked at her as if he had never even heard of the term ‘flirt’ before, and now, he didn’t even flinch? Just how dense could he be? Or was it naïveté? Whatever it was, it threw her off more than anything else in this moment. Speechless, she simply nodded at his words, appearing kinda spacey. When he spoke again, she snapped out of her trance. A quick glance to the side, and realization started sinking in. “Wait!” Before he could leave the bathroom, Serafina stepped forward, grabbing him by his hand. “I, uhm … Don’t have any fresh clothes to wear.” Feeling conflicted, she bit her lower lip. “A little counterproductive to take a shower without having any non-sweat-soaked clothes to put on afterwards, right?” Serafina let go of his hand, but not without gently brushing her fingers over his. Her lips were still tingling. Even if he offered, she doubted that any clothes he could give her would fit her … size. Considering she had grown in all sorts of places over the past couple of years. Even with all of her training, her body just naturally had a lot of curves to it. And by curves, she meant her boobs and thighs. No way one of his shirts would fit her without being too tight around the chest. Also, she wasn’t really too keen on doing a walk of shame when they hadn’t even done anything. And she sure as hell wouldn’t walk around the Institute in nothing but a towel.









written by
<g12>Leonidas di Angelo</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  24.08.2022, 06:31 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




Glad to have each other back, he was still faced with a very big task - letting his family know. How he was going to do it? Possibly he would talk to Sera about it again. But these thoughts were banished to the back of his mind for the time being. Instead, the emotions burst upon him, pulled him off his feet and literally rolled over him. She made an important contribution to this. Her mere presence was enough, she herself was also overwhelmed by feelings. Why he was so vulnerable with her of all people? He could not explain it to himself. One part of him wanted to know the answer, another part didn't care at all. As long as they had each other... It was ... strange and just good, perfect. Even earlier, as children, they had harmonized together. And he was the one who had mostly gotten involved with the girls' fluff. By that he meant not only Sera's, but also Lydia's. What rivalry existed between the two, he did not know then as now. If he had to, could he choose one?

Even after they had both calmed down a bit, he didn't immediately notice their close body contact. For him, the only thing that counted was how they were both doing emotionally. If they needed it, he would continue to stand close to her. For him this was not a problem, he did not even think in any other directions. Later he might notice that they had been relatively close to each other, very close. An embrace among friends of a different kind? Rather, he would again be preoccupied by the strangely irregular beating of his heart, which played madly at the slightest gesture of Serafina. Not to mention her touches.

But now the spell between them seemed to be broken. His spontaneous and somehow almost unrecognizable reaction was immediately rewarded with a screech of his name, which only made his smirk finer and wider. For his sake, she could quietly giggle his name more often. And right there it was again. How did he come up with such thoughts in the first place? Almost as a kind of kick, his heart jumped against his chest at that moment. What did this want to tell him now? Unless it was completely out of control again? He would certainly rack his brains over that later. Now he carried her safely the few meters to the shower, where he set her down. To stand directly under it with her did not occur to him. If they were at a lake, however, he might have simply thrown her in completely at a deep spot.
In order not to appear impatient and strange, he already turned away to leave, but was held back by her "wait". Turning to her, he was quite aware of her hand, which had wrapped itself around his. Shortly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he skillfully ignored his formal caution at this moment. Staring blankly at her, he needed a few seconds to process her statement. Far too much of his attention was focused on her hand, the touch of her skin. What did she mean? Ahhh, clothes. To cover this brief moment of his trance, he ran his free hand through his hair. "Un momento per favore," he asked her, briefly raising the index finger of the released hand, its fingers still tingling from the gentle brush of hers over it. Something inside him just now was a little... displeased with the quick release. By the angels, what was it? Not wanting to let his distraction show any further, he had made his way to the closet. Dark wood processed with black metal and a mirror. All in all, it measured easily two meters and was actually much too big for Leonidas. He kept his clothes simple and minimalist, as well as his furniture. 10 long-sleeved shirts, 10 pairs of jeans, a total of 3 pairs of shoes, 20 pairs of socks and underwear - all in simple black and all the same model. That facilitated, or rather saved, one the search for a suitable outfit enormously. With all but the shoes carefully stacked on top of each other, he returned to the bathroom and placed them on a small chair, which was specially prepared for this purpose. By stroking through his hair, his strands became even more wild and stood out even more because of their self-will. "Here. Problema risolto," he concluded with a slight upward tug of the corner of his mouth. "Towels are hanging fresh there. Just help yourself." With that, he now left the bathroom to her alone and sat down at his desk to make himself a cup of coffee. Should she also want one, he would then make her a fresh one. Afterwards, he would go into the bathroom after herself with a fresh bundle of clothes of his own, and after a good five minutes, rejoin her fully dressed, but still soaking wet, yet neatly streaked hair.










written by
<g12>Serafina Rossi</g12>
years old - -
Posted on:  24.08.2022, 08:55 - Wörter: -

The marks that can't be erased
   Gast   Gast
am 23.02.2010




When she touched his hand briefly, he didn’t seem to mind at all. Not that he seemed to have minded before when she hugged him – especially after both crying on one another’s shoulders a couple of minutes ago – but he seemed less … Tense? Less on edge, as if they had finally managed to completely go back to the way it was when they were children. Touching each other almost being natural. Could they have possibly managed to overcome the last hurdle that had created the tiniest, lingering feeling of distance between them? Whatever it had been, it was gone now, and Serafina was more than happy about it. Relieved, even.
He didn’t shake off her hand or look displeased in the slightest, which hopefully meant that he had finally and completely opened himself to her in one way or another. Overjoyed, she was almost able to ignore the persistent, prickling sensation on her lips. Seriously, how was he so damn unaffected by it? Though he seemed unbothered with her holding his hand, she released him shortly after. Seemingly understanding what she had wanted to say, he raised a finger at her, asking her for a moment of time before leaving the bathroom.

She could have just … Left. Went to her own room, and taken a shower there. It would have been much less complicated than whatever the hell was going on here right now. He must have known that, too. Surely, he did. But instead of going their separate ways, both taking a shower in their respective rooms, he was basically telling her to take a shower in his room. How could someone who was such a rational, logically thinking leader in front of practically everyone else in this Institute suddenly behave that way? When just mere days ago, he didn’t even seem phased or affected by her embarrassed blabbering at all. Neither her flirting. Or, well, maybe the freaking almost-kiss they just had?! Seriously, what on earth was wrong with him. There couldn’t be a hidden meaning to all of this, right? Right, there was no way.

Whilst she was busy overthinking as usual, Leonidas had grabbed a couple of his own clothes to hand her. Again, she was worried that it wouldn’t fit her size, but it seemed like he did not. Maybe he just didn’t consider it, seeing they had both been together since they were children and probably even bathed together back then. Frowning, she wondered if he even saw her as a woman at all. Serafina eyed the clothes he had placed on the chair, puzzled, unable to really do anything but nod before he left her in the bathroom. She stared at the pile for a good 30 seconds before sighing defeatedly and getting undressed. Keeping the shower brief, she went for a cold one, considering her body felt like it was on fire. It felt a little off, not being able to use her usual shower stuff. Now, she smelled like him, instead of her usual blend of lilacs and vanilla. The tiniest grin crept upon her face. A childish thought had crossed her mind, that she would be looking forward to attentive people’s faces when they noticed that they smelled the same today. And by attentive people, she meant one lady in particular. Hair wet, tiny drops falling onto her damp skin, she was confronted with the situation yet again. Still kinda-sorta grinning to herself, she hesitated. Her sports bra was just as soaked in sweat as the rest of her clothes, so … What was she supposed to do? After pondering about it for just a couple of seconds, she decided not to wear it. Instead, she would just get a move on and not hang around for too long, so that she could get to her room and put on an actual bra before the rest of the Shadowhunters got out of their beds. She could already imagine that Leonidas would not understand, though. Whatever. Somehow, it was rather cute. Annoying, yes. But cute nevertheless. When she was done dressing, the only actual piece of clothing that was her own were her shoes. And, yes, her fears had been legitimate. It was rather tight around the chest. Since she had decided to go for a cold shower, the mirror had not fogged up, letting her take a look at herself before leaving the bathroom. Weapons strapped around her leg; she headed over towards where he was sitting. Old clothes tied to a bundle that she had rolled up in her shirt like a gift in her hands, she opened the bathroom door, seeing him sit at his desk, enjoying a coffee. Remembering how he picked her up, her cheeks turned even more rosy. Clearing her throat, she smiled: “Didn’t know you were so keen to go for a couples-look already.” Serafina placed her bundle on the chair of the other side of the desk, making herself a cup of the blend she’d had before. She didn’t even have enough time to properly finger brush her hair before he was rejoining her. While his hair was soaked yet neatly streaked, hers was basically towel dry and curling up at this point. Genetics had blessed her not only with curves, but with the most amazing, natural beach waves. Not that he would be able to appreciate that, but she sure did. “Feeling better?”, she queried, continuing to scrunch her hair. After looking at his get-up, she lowered her hands. "Seriously, don't you have any other clothes?"









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