#I always felt jinx is much more self aware and aware | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

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TLTNL- SILVER AND OPALS

James took the book from Lily with a happy enough air. He was mostly hoping the first Quidditch game would come up soon, considering tryouts were already past and they needed to see the team in action of course.

Where was Dumbledore, and what was he doing?

"Thoughts I really don't think of too often, unlike Moony," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You make me sound like a panting teenager," Remus grumbled. "Of course I wonder all the time where the leader of the Order is."

"Your ears really have been saved Harry," Sirius continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Used to come up at least once a meal what that man could be up to, and that's nothing compared to school."

"I take it back," James agreed. "We might not have ever noticed if he was missing from the staff table, but Remus would have flipped the castle inside out if he was missing for more than a day."

Remus' scowl increased upon both of his friends. Their jesting was in good nature, but it still rankled him they weren't wrong. It simply angered him more than anything how blind he'd been until days ago, how he'd refused to see any side of Dumbledore except his white beard until he had it shoved in his face he could be missing something.

His friends obviously knew that had been shaken. They just weren't sure what to make of that themselves. It should have been...a relief? That wasn't the right word either, because it was too sad how down he was now with no one to look up to in that same sense.

When James realized Moony wasn't going to react in any sense of the word he decided to keep going instead, deciding he'd been through more than enough today already, no need to push it.

Harry caught sight of the headmaster only twice over the next few weeks. He rarely appeared at meals anymore, and Harry was sure Hermione was right in thinking that he was leaving the school for days at a time. Had Dumbledore forgotten the lessons he was supposed to be giving Harry?

"I entirely doubt that," Lily sighed. "Though what else he is busy doing is beyond me."

Harry nodded his agreement, trying not to pretend he hadn't been panicking just slightly at the thought of being forgotten, left alone, again.

Dumbledore had said that the lessons were leading to something to do with the prophecy; Harry had felt bolstered, comforted, and now he felt slightly abandoned.

He wanted to laugh at his own thoughts, but his teeth were still rather gritted. He didn't want to see the expressions on those around him, either pity, remorse, or anything else for something of his past that just could not be changed no matter how much he'd wish for it, so was more than relieved when James continued without too much of a hitch in his throat.

Halfway through October came their first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. Harry had wondered whether these trips would still be allowed, given the increasingly tight security measures around the school,

"Nah, never seen the school get that bad," Sirius rolled his eyes at the thought. "The teachers are well aware we'd burn the place to the ground ourselves if they didn't let the students get some air."

"And that was the normal students, considering this lot went about it without permission," Lily snorted.

but was pleased to know that they were going ahead; it was always good to get out of the castle grounds for a few hours.

Harry woke early on the morning of the trip, which was proving stormy, and whiled away the time until breakfast by reading his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. He did not usually lie in bed reading his textbooks; that sort of behavior, as Ron rightly said, was indecent in anybody except Hermione, who was simply weird that way.

Lily started snickering away again at once, and Harry looked at her in exasperation, still wanting to demand just what was so funny he was missing? It certainly wasn't the same reaction from the Marauders, who looked more dumbfounded than anything this was how Harry chose to spend his time. Even if he'd chosen to pursue homework they'd have thought nothing of it, but independent study!

"You lot can't even really mock him," Remus pleasantly interpreted the almost constipated look on James and Sirius, "because I caught you lot doing the same thing with Transfiguration books so often I honestly thought you had split personalities."

"Yes, well, we had a pretty damn good reason," James huffed.

"So does Harry, he's catching up on five years worth of Potions that useless teacher couldn't have taught him," Sirius insisted, deciding to defend this for now, though no one in here was accusing him of anything.

Lily started laughing harder than ever, and James quickly kept going then, to Harry's relief.

Harry felt, however, that the Half-Blood Princes copy of Advanced Potion-Making hardly qualified as a textbook. The more Harry pored over the book, the more he realized how much was in there, not only the handy hints and shortcuts on potions that was earning him such a glowing reputation with Slughorn, but also the imaginative little jinxes and hexes scribbled in the margins, which Harry was sure, judging by the crossings-out and revisions, that the Prince had invented himself.

Harry whistled in surprise. "Hard to imagine a student inventing spells."

"I wouldn't be that surprised, we tend to experiment quite a bit in our years, far more than when we age and do things out of habit," Remus shrugged.

Harry had already attempted a few of the Prince's self-invented spells. There had been a hex that caused toenails to grow alarmingly fast (he had tried this on Crabbe in the corridor, with very entertaining results); a jinx that glued the tongue to the roof of the mouth (which he had twice used, to general applause, on an unsuspecting Argus Filch); and, perhaps most useful of all, Muffliato, a spell that filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy conversations could be held in class with out being overheard.

The first two weren't of much consequence, they were used regularly in all their years at school amongst the students and it was more likely this Prince had simply copied a spell he intended to practice. That last one however did catch them off guard, they'd never heard of that exact spell.

"That's really interesting, sort of like honing an Imperturbable Charm, except instead of directly forcing anything not to be around you, you're merely distracting them instead," James eyes were alight at once with the possibility of this.

"Glory I want to meet whoever got a nail on that spell," Sirius agreed enthusiastically, causing James' face to settle back into drawn confusion for that and Lily to start snickering harder than ever.

The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione,

"No surprise there," Remus rolled his eyes at this continuing to be mentioned.

who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.

Sitting up in bed, Harry turned the book sideways so as to examine more closely the scribbled instructions for a spell that seemed to have caused the Prince some trouble. There were many crossings-out and alterations, but finally, crammed into a corner of the page, the scribble:

Levicorpus (nvbl)

Harry watched wearily as those around him frowned at the mention of that spell, one they hadn't used in quite some time. Before he even had a chance to ask, James gave a blustering sigh but explained, "you already saw that one in action, courtesy of me."

Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise as he demanded, "you invented that spell?"

James frowned in confusion at Harry's leap. "Nah, did a Transfiguration paper for a sixth year Slytherin, he taught me this in exchange." He waited and watched Harry flip through the spells he'd seen his father use, only one of which was silent in the one time he'd 'seen' his father perform magic.

"Oh," was all he could think to mutter before waving him on. He still felt like there was some connection he was missing in this, even if he had latched onto the right memory for once for an answer.

While the wind and sleet pounded relentlessly on the windows, and Neville snored loudly, Harry stared at the letters in brackets. Nvbl., that had to mean "nonverbal." Harry rather doubted he would be able to bring off this particular spell; he was still having difficulty with nonverbal spells, something Snape had been quick to comment on in every D.A.D.A. class. On the other hand, the Prince had proved a much more effective teacher than Snape so far.

Lily had to fight very, very hard this time not to fall off the furniture in a fit of laughter, she knew that would be just too much of a giveaway. Thankfully she'd been in such a spirited mood for so long now, the others were just ignoring her still near constant stream of snickering, even though their annoyance continued to grow just what she found so funny.

Pointing his wand at nothing in particular, he gave it an upward flick and said Levicorpus! inside his head.

Then there was a scream.

"Well, it seems to have worked," Sirius said pleasantly.

"Wonder which of his roommates he snagged," James chuckled, he'd accidentally caught a random third year on his first try and this was bound to be funnier because Harry would know the bloke.

"Hopefully not myself," was all Harry could think to mutter.

There was a flash of light and the room was full of voices: Everyone had woken up as Ron had let out a yell.

"I half expected it to be Neville, you already mentioned him snoring and he hasn't had a catastrophe happen to him in ages," James chuckled.

Harry sent Advanced Potion-Making flying in panic; Ron was dangling upside down in midair as though an invisible hook had hoisted him up by the ankle.

"Revenge for him punching you awake over the summer," Remus got a good laugh out of that. "It happened so long ago he wouldn't even realize you'd still planned retaliation."

"Moony's favorite," Sirius sighed.

Harry yelled an apology, as Dean and Seamus roared with laughter, and Neville picked himself up from the floor, having fallen out of bed.

"Ah, well, I was half right," James's laughter continued, the easy mood flowing through the room making him continuing just had everyone chuckling even harder than they really should have been.

He groped for the potion book and riffled through it in a panic, trying to find the right page; at last he located it and deciphered the cramped word underneath the spell: Praying that this was the counter-jinx, Harry thought Liberacorpus! with all his might. There was another flash of light, and Ron fell in a heap onto his mattress.

Harry repeated his apology, while Dean and Seamus continued to roar with laughter.

Ron requested tomorrow, Harry just use an alarm clock.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Sirius cackled.

By the time they had got dressed, padding themselves out with several of Mrs. Weasleys hand-knitted sweaters and carrying, cloaks, scarves, and gloves, Ron's shock had subsided and he had decided that Harry's new spell was highly amusing; so amusing, in fact, that he lost no time in regaling Hermione with the story as they sat down for breakfast.

"Why?" Remus demanded, looking genuinely dumbfounded at this display. "He must know by now anything regarding that book won't entertain her."

Harry just shrugged, he hadn't been planning on telling her.

Hermione had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry, demanding if this was yet another spell from that potion book of his.

Harry frowned at her, calling her out on always jumping to the worst conclusions.

"It's even worse when she's right," Sirius huffed.

He agreed it was though, and she lectured him on just attempting an unknown, handwritten spell to see what would happen!

"She's got half a point," Lily couldn't help but agree now that some of their laughter had subsided. "That really could have been dangerous, or you may not have even known the effect at all until it was too late to understand something was wrong, may not even have had a countercurse ready."

Harry couldn't help but shift in unease, not at all enjoying the foreboding feeling he believed her.

Harry asked what made it so bad handwritten?

Hermione snapped that meant it wasn't Ministry approved,

"Gah!" Sirius clutched his ears in pain.

"As if we didn't hear enough of that last year, Hermione's really working to get on every one of my nerves lately," James agreed tartly.

She also concluded this Prince must have been quite a dodgy one, to be inventing spells to dangle people around, who put energy into that?

"I don't even think the Prince made up half those spells," James rolled his eyes. "I'm starting to wonder if he just heard about them and was trying to figure out how to do them himself." At least four of them so far had been common knowledge during his time at school, it seemed ridiculous one person had made up all of those and they'd grown popular in that same time frame.

Ron offered his twin brothers, while Harry pointed out his dad. He quickly fibbed and told Lupin had mentioned this spell once, but this last part was not true; in fact, Harry had seen his father use the spell on Snape, but he had never told Ron and Hermione about that particular excursion into the Pensieve. Now, however, a wonderful possibility occurred to him. Could the Half-Blood Prince possibly be-?

James tried to laugh, but the sound didn't really make it to full crescendo. Harry very obviously realized the answer to that one here and now, but what he wouldn't give to gift his son with something like this. His cloak often times didn't feel like it was enough to remind his only child he'd even existed, but he tried as always to shake off those thoughts.

Lily really was getting a handle on herself and almost entirely smothered the funny little noise Harry had the wrong parents influence for this book.

Hermione kept going past his thoughts, pointing out they'd seen this spell in action before as well, by Death Eaters during the Quidditch World Cup.

"That must have been an entirely different spell," Remus disagreed, "or at least a modified version of it. Levicorpus very specifically hoists one up by their ankle. That other bit of magic was much more..." he trailed off, not at all liking the words his mind offered up to explain such evil magic.

Flexible seemed to light for what those Muggles had suffered.

Ron came to his aid, saying this was different, those people were abusing the spell. Harry and his dad were just having a laugh, then he told Hermione she just didn't like this Prince because he was better than Hermione at Potions.

Hermione insisted it had nothing to do with that, even as her cheeks went red.

"At once proving her wrong," Sirius needlessly pointed out with his own eye roll. Girl needed to get a handle on her expressions. He only wished Lily were so easy to read, he still kept eyeing her and hoping any moment she'd slip and tell them who this Prince was, but aside from laughing at their ignorance he wasn't getting anything.

She insisted it was all just irresponsible what they were doing with the unknown of that book. Then she persisted Ron stop calling him Prince, like it's a title, he obviously wasn't a good person!

Harry deflected if she was getting towards him being a Death Eater there's no way he'd be boasting as a half-blood.

Lily let out a blistering sigh the kids had just so easily transitioned into talking about what she'd refused to see for far too long about this Prince.

Even as he said it, Harry remembered that his father had been pure-blood, but he pushed the thought out of his mind; he would worry about that later.

Hermione stubbornly went on with her point, Death Eaters couldn't all be pure-blood, there just weren't that many of them. At least some had to be half-bloods, pretending to be pure. It was only Muggle-borns they outright hated, they'd be quite happy to let Harry and Ron join up.

"Oh but of course, lots of parties would be going on during that," Sirius wrinkled his nose in disgust even as he joked of this.

"Deathday parties," Remus agreed with the same expression.

In Ron's indignation, he sent a sausage flying to hit Ernie Macmillan.

James snorted at the random insertion, and all the sudden memories of doing that with much more purpose.

Pointing out his family was nothing but blood traitors, and that was worse than a Muggle-born as far as Death Eaters were concerned!

Harry agreed they'd just love to have him around, they'd all be best pals if they'd stop trying to kill him.

"You mean that's not how you make the best of friends?" Remus mockingly demanded.

This made Ron laugh; even Hermione gave a grudging smile, and a distraction arrived in the shape of Ginny.

"Ginny's been doing that a lot this year," Lily chuckled in surprise while Harry was quick to smile again for getting off this topic, it was starting to give him a headache lingering on this.

She gave him another scroll of parchment with Harry's name written upon it in familiar, thin, slanting writing from Dumbledore. He thanked her, and then asked if she'd be going with them to Hogsmeade?

Ginny said no, she was meeting up with Dean, but would probably see them there.

Filch was standing at the oak front doors as usual, checking off the names of people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. The process took even longer than normal as Filch was triple-checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor.

Ron demanded why they were checking to see if they were smuggling Dark stuff out? Surely this would only happen when they were trying to get back in with it.

His cheek earned him a few extra jabs with the Sensor, and he was still wincing as they stepped out into the wind and sleet.

The three Marauders sighed heavily, more than making their point they'd laughingly demanded the same thing of Filch at one point or another, and received the same results.

The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. Harry wrapped his scarf over his lower face; the exposed part soon felt both raw and numb. The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than once Harry wondered whether they might not have had a better time in the warm common room, and when they finally reached Hogsmeade and saw that Zonko's Joke Shop had been boarded up, Harry took it as confirmation that this trip was not destined to be fun.

"Fred and George already put them out of business?" James forcefully put a happy little spin back in his voice at the reminder of how murky business' were in this climate. He still hated all the reminders pouring back in now upon Harry's life.

Harry couldn't even begin to play along. Ginny had only caused a slight delay in an ever growing headache, which clearly hadn't been about the Prince, but his coming day, and this wasn't boding well.

Ron pointed, with a thickly gloved hand, toward Honeydukes, which was mercifully open, and Harry and Hermione staggered in his wake into the crowded shop.

They were immediately enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air.

Sirius inhaled deeply like he was trying to pull that scent to him right now, boy he missed his frequent trips to that shop.

Ron was just saying how they should stay in here all afternoon when Slughorn called out to them from behind. He had a box of crystallized pineapple in his arm, and was scolding Harry he'd missed three of his little suppers now.

"That toffee scent still worth it?" Remus muttered conspiratorially, as if Slughorn were here now and trying to wrangle the pair of his friends along once again.

"Nah, I'd have gone outside again already," Sirius agreed.

"Maybe come back with a few snowballs if he didn't take a hint," James agreed.

He insisted this wouldn't do, Miss Granger loved them!

Hermione helplessly said they certainly were-

"I can't decide if Hermione's lying to herself, or him," James snorted.

Harry defended he'd had Quidditch practice, when in fact he'd been scheduling these every time Slughorn had sent him a little, violet ribbon-adorned invitation. This strategy meant that Ron was not left out, and they usually had a laugh with Ginny, imagining Hermione shut up with McLaggen and Zabini.

All of the boys got a good laugh out of that, while Lily rolled her eyes. They really weren't that bad.

Slughorn said he expected them to certainly win their coming match then, with all this hard work.

"I already expected that," James smirked while Harry gave a nervous grin back. He really wanted this game to go without a hitch, it being his first one as captain.

He tried to offer Harry to come on Monday, he surely wouldn't be playing in this weather.

Harry said he had an appointment with Dumbledore, and Slughorn dramatically sighed he'd been foisted again. He threatened Harry couldn't avoid him forever.

"Try him," Sirius sniffed, they'd managed quite often in their years.

And with a regal wave, he waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been a display of Cockroach Clusters.

"An insult on top of an insult," Remus groaned, as if Ron didn't have reason enough for his insecurity problems to be in his face.

Hermione added on even after Slughorn left that they really weren't that bad, they could be fun at times. Then she caught sight of Ron's face, and was suddenly very interested in the deluxe sugar quills.

"Subtle," Sirius drew the word out with a deadpan expression.

"I don't see why she doesn't just invite him along," Lily sighed. "Ask Slughorn if she can bring a friend, he'll say yes on principle, he can come along to one and see how they are. I'll doubt he'd want to go again after that," she finished with a grumpy look at the boys.

"After that first one she hadn't the chance," Harry reminded of his Quidditch practices.

"And I'd be even more cross with her, subjecting him to that!" James rolled his eyes good naturedly. They'd invited Remus and...well they'd invited their friends to one as well, and they'd taken to it as well as to be expected. Needless to say, there was a reason Slughorn only invited he and Sirius to the important parties instead of every one after that.

Glad that Hermione had changed the subject, Harry showed much more interest in the new extra-large sugar quills than he would normally have done, but Ron continued to look moody and merely shrugged when Hermione asked him where he wanted to go next.

No one wanted to linger in the shop after that, and instead bundled backup to head for The Three Broomsticks.

The bitter wind was like knives on their faces after the sugary warmth of Honeydukes. The street was not very busy; nobody was lingering to chat, just hurrying toward their destinations. The exceptions were two men a little ahead of them, standing just outside the Three Broomsticks. One was very tall and thin; squinting through his rain-washed glasses Harry recognized the barman who worked in the other Hogsmeade pub, the Hog's Head. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione drew closer, the barman drew his cloak more tightly around his neck and walked away, leaving the shorter man to fumble with something in his arms. They were barely feet from him when Harry realized who the man was, Mundungus.

"Oh joy," Sirius huffed. The last time this one had been significantly mentioned he'd dropped the ball and allowed a dementor to attack Harry. The end results weren't the point, this one wasn't a favorite of theirs no matter the good laugh he was worth from time to time.

The squat, bandy-legged man with long, straggly, ginger hair jumped and dropped an ancient suitcase, which burst open, releasing what looked like the entire contents of a junk shop window.

"Sounds about right," Remus snorted.

"Probably stole the lot," James agreed.

He greeted them with a most unconvincing stab at airiness.

"Wonder why he would be," Lily muttered. Harry really hadn't shown much inclination towards him for Mundungus to be anything other than passingly cordial.

He began scrabbling on the ground to retrieve the contents of his suitcase with every appearance of a man eager to be gone.

Harry politely asked if he was selling all this?

Mundungus snapped yes he was while snatching a silver goblet out of Ron's hands.

Ron had just begun to say how familiar that looked when Mundungus shouted ouch!

James startled hard in surprise, automatically trying to lean in closer to his kid in fear someone had attacked him. It was a natural reaction after all the threatening situations his kid had been in. Forcing himself not to imagine dementors swooping in once more upon his child, he kept going frantically because of that one simple word.

Harry had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. Holding him fast with one hand, he pulled out his wand.

"Bloody hell, what did he have!" Lily yelped in concern, fighting with herself to jump in front of Harry and demand a reasonable explanation for this. His fierce expression wasn't giving much of an answer, clearly so outraged the words weren't coming to him, but she just knew it had to be a good one for him to be acting like this.

Harry pressed their noses together as he shouted that had been from Sirius' house! That had the Black family crest on it!

This was so far beyond the scope of the danger they'd been fearing, the burst of surprised laughter almost sounded like it had been punched out of Sirius. He still kept going though, his shoulders shaking with mirth even as his eyes landed shrewdly on his godson. "What a reaction."

Harry's anger didn't lessen at all for his godfathers careless way, keeping a focused anger on no one in here for the disrespect he saw in this act.

James cleared his throat uneasily before calling for his attention. "Really not seeing what you are here Harry. Sirius doesn't give a damn about that stuff, surely you know that."

"He nicked his stuff!" Harry spat, aghast now that no one seemed to be getting this. "It doesn't matter he wouldn't care, it was still his things!"

James still exchanged a puzzled look with Remus, who shrugged without answer. If he'd caught Mundungus doing that, he likely would have rolled his eyes and ignored the act, exactly for the reason Prongs had just said. They were things, they barely associated that house and anything inside it with their friend because Sirius himself put so much distance away from it.

Sirius decided it was best to just play this off for now though, it didn't really matter what his reaction would have been, but Harry's anger for it, and so he persisted, "well, the point here is Harry's finally giving Mundungus some revenge for bailing on him last summer, so whatever the reason, I say you keep going with it Prongs."

James shrugged and did just that, not doing a very good job of hiding his mystified expression.

Mundungus tried to protest, but Harry's hold only tightened as he demanded if he'd gone back that very night to strip the place?!

James winced hard at that line, swallowing convulsively and nearly choking on the spit. He had to remind himself it had already been months to Harry since this happened, where as he'd just heard the news days ago. He could hardly fathom speaking the words in a conversation yet, let alone Harry still casually dumping that pile of words no matter his temper.

Harry demanded Mundungus hand it all over, but with a crack, he disapparated.

Harry whirled on the spot, demanding to know where he'd gone.

"Not anywhere around there," Lily muttered. If there was one thing Mundungus was good at, it was weaseling himself out of those kinds of situations.

He kept shouting about that thieving-

Tonks appeared out of nowhere, her mousy hair now slick with sleet. She told him there was no point in his yelling.

Harry's anger only seemed to double as he howled, "am I really still being followed?!"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Remus frowned, a bit of reproach already boiling if Harry really took this out on Tonks, she didn't deserve it at all for doing her job. "What makes you think it went away?"

"Probably not though," Sirius quickly tried to defuse, more than happy to jump topics. "She said she was stationed in Hogsmeade, probably walking the area and the Hogshead is as good a place as any to do that, or maybe you just missed an Order meeting."

Harry just turned to grumbling and not acknowledging either of them, his hands still itching like he wished to pin someone where they stood.

When Harry groused what had happened, Tonks seemingly took no notice of the information but to say there still wasn't a point to yelling about it.

"Wouldn't surprise me if she knew," James gave an uneasy chuckle at the idea of her helping to pack it away instead of Sirius like they'd all laughed about at one point. Why did everything have to come back to haunt them with their jokes?

Then she told them to get out of the cold. She watched them go through the door of the Three Broomsticks. The moment he was inside, Harry burst out in further frustration about Sirius' stuff being nicked!

"So we gathered," Lily frowned in sympathy at him. She really was trying to understand why Harry was in such a temper about this, and she could sort of see it just being the principle of someone desecrating his godfathers house like that, but even then that wasn't a place Harry liked to think of Sirius in anymore than them. Sad maybe, depressed at the reminder of those things now in Mundungus' possession she'd understand, but where was this anger coming from? It was starting to wind her up as much as him for the simple fact she couldn't grasp what was bothering her child.

Hermione softly agreed, but also rebuked his shouting as people were staring. She told him to go sit down and she'd fetch drinks.

Harry was still fuming when Hermione returned to their table a few minutes later holding three bottles of butterbeer.

"I don't know why you wouldn't be, you're clearly not going to let this go," Sirius sighed, though he more than wanted to.

Harry demanded of no one couldn't the Order keep him in check? He shouldn't be able to steal whatever isn't nailed down!

"No," all four of them muttered. That really had been part of Mundungus' 'charm.' It wouldn't do to have a thief around who wasn't good at his job.

Hermione desperately shushed him now, looking around to make sure nobody was listening; there were a couple of warlocks sitting close by who were staring at Harry with great interest, and Zabini was lolling against a pillar not far away.

"Oh good, I needed someone to hex," James muttered for himself on that one, well aware Harry didn't partake in his personal feelings of venting, but he certainly was envisioning it right now.

She did agree she'd be annoyed to, someone stealing her stuff- Harry gagged on his butterbeer; he had momentarily forgotten that he owned number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"All the more reason I would have laughed it all off, now it was doubly uncared for," Sirius sighed. "Least Mundungus would put it to a good cause, his own pockets."

Harry gave him a scandalized look and Sirius quickly raised his hands in surrender, deciding against pursuing the point.

He did agree it was no wonder Mundungus hadn't been happy to see him, that being his now. He still decided he was going to tell Dumbledore about this Monday.

"What exactly do you expect Dumbledore to do about it?" James asked curiously.

Harry just let his expression keep stewing without an answer, he didn't really have one.

Hermione seemed pleased he'd at least found a solution to get him to stop shouting, then demanded of Ron what he was doing. He'd been glancing around the room this whole time, but quickly muttered nothing when caught. Harry knew he was trying to catch the eye of the curvy and attractive bar-maid, Madam Rosmerta, for whom he had long nursed a soft spot.

"Most lads do," Sirius chuckled, "though I'd think he'd know better by now than to show as much in front of Hermione."

"Getting her back for ignoring him at breakfast that other day," James shrugged.

Hermione clearly didn't buy it, as she waspishly said 'nothing,' was probably in the back getting more drinks.

"Hermione's jealousy really is getting more obvious than ever," Remus chuckled, more than willing to play along and put that nasty business off their minds. "I'm wondering how long it'll take Harry to lock them in a classroom and force them to have it out."

"I was more waiting for them to get on with it, they'd never been subtle in the past about their rows," Harry rolled his eyes, but at least his words weren't as biting anymore, he was clearly calming down.

Ron ignored this jibe, sipping his drink in what he evidently considered to be a dignified silence. Harry was thinking about Sirius, and how he had hated those silver goblets anyway.

All four of them sighed as it registered Harry knew this anyways. It was maddening he wouldn't just spit it out and tell them what his real problem with this was, but he also had his teeth clenched again and wasn't looking at any of them. Weather he thought it was obvious enough or just didn't want to talk about it, no one was going to force it out of him when they'd rather it never be spoken of again.

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes flickering between Ron and the bar. The moment Harry drained the last drops in his bottle she asked if they were ready to head back to the castle?

The other two nodded; it had not been a fun trip and the weather was getting worse the longer they stayed. Once again they drew their cloaks tightly around them, rearranged their scarves, pulled on their gloves, then followed Katie Bell and a friend out of the pub and back up the High Street.

Despite his hands still twitching in his lap and his face tightening more every second, they all thought he was still just on the topic of Sirius, it didn't occur to them a headache was forming again. That warning feeling deep in his gut was starting to bubble, this trip into Hogsmeade was destined to get worse.

Harry's thoughts strayed to Ginny as they trudged up the road to Hogwarts through the frozen slush.

"How random," Sirius chuckled forcefully, but was all for Harry's stray thoughts being shown rather than his lingering one.

They had not met up with her, undoubtedly, thought Harry, because she and Dean were cozily closeted in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, that haunt of happy couples. Scowling, he bowed his head against the swirling sleet and trudged on.

"I can see how that would bother you," James was quick to jump in and agree with this, making Lily wonder if she wasn't the only one feeling wrong footed in not getting a handle on Harry's real problem. "If I had anything resembling a sister I'd feel the same."

Harry was so startled to hear that coming out of his mouth he entirely lost his contrite expression and turned to him in surprise. He'd never contradicted when anyone said this because before now he'd really felt no reason to. This time though, he wanted to protest in disgust it was nothing like that, Ginny was far more of a friend to him than anything resembling a sister. He held back though, because he wasn't sure that was the right comparison anymore either. It wasn't like his friendship with Hermione after all...so what was the word to use for it? He was chewing on this so hard he hardly noticed the tempo of his headache increasing as his dad continued.

It was a little while before Harry became aware that the voices of Katie Bell and her friend, which were being carried back to him on the wind, had become shriller and louder. Harry squinted at their indistinct figures. The two girls were having an argument about something Katie was holding in her hand with her friend Leanne.

"Urgh, avoid this Harry," Sirius swiftly inserted. "Teammate she is, but you don't want to get in between her tiff with her friend. She'd think you're a right pig of a captain."

A trickle of sweat started forming on the nap of Harry's neck despite the freezing temperatures he so vividly remembered. He could no longer focus on Ginny, Sirius, or much of anyone right now except the very real pain of his head screaming at him to pay attention around the splitting it was causing his vision.

They rounded a corner in the lane, sleet coming thick and fast, blurring Harry's glasses. Just as he raised a gloved hand to wipe them, Leanne made to grab hold of the package Katie was holding; Katie tugged it back and the package fell to the ground.

At once, Katie rose into the air, not as Ron had done, suspended comically by the ankle, but gracefully, her arms outstretched, as though she was about to fly.

James froze, the feeling erupting in the room all around them. As Harry had just said, this was not in any way funny, but with a glance at his friends he tried his hardest not to immediately assume a Death Eater was around. This didn't have to be the panic inducing fear for life he was already latching onto with far too much practice...

Yet there was something wrong, something eerie. . . . Her hair was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Leanne had all halted in their tracks, watching.

Lily's lip was already trembling, her face as white as the sleet in her mind during this depiction, she was fighting back the urge to shriek as loud as that wind. Even without Harry's ghastly face a mask of horror promising this should not be interpreted any other way, she knew, they all did, something was terribly wrong.

Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let out a terrible scream.

James startled to his feet without remembering to do so, his body trying to put him into action even as no spell truly came to mind. There was no answer for this, his eyes only staying locked on the words for explanation, even while the back of his mind was already offering up the horror of this happening to the rest of the kids, his Harry next any second.

Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too and seized Katie's ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed forward to help, but even as they grabbed Katie's legs, she fell on top of them; Harry and Ron managed to catch her but she was writhing so much they could hardly hold her. Instead they lowered her to the ground where she thrashed and screamed, apparently unable to recognize any of them.

Harry looked around; the landscape seemed deserted.

He told them all to stay here while he ran for help.

"No! You don't separate from them!"

Harry hardly acknowledged this, couldn't even have said who'd scolded him, his mind purely absorbed on the one goal of finding help.

He began to sprint toward the school; he had never seen anyone behave as Katie had just behaved and could not think what had caused it; he hurtled around a bend in the lane and collided with what seemed to be an enormous bear on its hind legs.

Before the guttural noise could even form, a snarl of anger or fear for Harry next running into yet another problem, James was still going in the same breath, though he really hadn't breathed since Katie began her 'flight.'

Harry recognized Hagrid in relief and quickly explained someone had been cursed!

Hagrid was in a panic at once, asking about Ron and Hermione?

A spastic noise thumped somewhere in Sirius' throat, a good old laugh about who Hagrid worried about more with the order of those names, but it never even made a flicker in his mind, to focused on every word Prongs was saying.

Harry corrected the right girl before leading the way.

Together they ran back along the lane. It took them no time to find the little group of people around Katie, who was still writhing and screaming on the ground; Ron, Hermione, and Leanne were all trying to quiet her.

Hagrid shouted at them all to get back, and then without a word, bent down, scooped her into his arms, and ran off toward the castle with her. Within seconds, Katie's piercing screams had died away and the only sound was the roar of the wind.

Lily was still shivering nonstop, her teeth clicking together as if that cold was permeating the air in here as well. This was what brought James back to the room, and he crossed it quickly to settle beside her, with her son on her other side. She tried to protest, but he ignored her as he kept going still on the same breath, even if it was coming out more strained every second for not giving himself a chance to breathe in between this mayhem starting out of the blue.

Hermione hurried over to Katie's wailing friend and put an arm around her.

She asked if Leanne could tell them anything more that happened. All she could sob was it happened when that package tore. She pointed at the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, which had split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Ron bent down, his hand outstretched,

Harry startled out of his seat as well, nearly sending Lily and Sirius to the floor in his wild grab to stop this. James hardly noticed, locked as he was to the words to ensure Harry's intent went through to the one who needed it.

but Harry seized his arm and pulled him back, telling him not to touch it.

The breath of release escaping them all finally forced air in again. They'd all wanted to shout that from the moment Leanne had said the words, afraid Harry's natural curiosity would send him off to do this, but it had been locked in place until he showed he'd be doing otherwise, the opposite in ensuring his friend wouldn't suffer the same fate.

"It's cursed," Remus said flatly, as his mind finally spun back into processing things again.

"And a powerful one at that," Sirius agreed as he rubbed ruefully at his jaw, that was the kind of thing he'd expect to find in his mothers jewelry box, not some poor kid at Hogwarts possessing.

"What the bloody hell was Katie doing with it?" Lily demanded, her voice not anywhere near normal volume no matter how hard she tried.

"That is a very good question," James agreed, only managing the flat tone because he was still getting his breath back. He took one more cautious look at Harry, the idea of his son going through that nearly suffocating him all over again. It helped nothing Harry refused to take his seat, but began pacing the room, a deeply troubled look that he hoped had everything to do with his teammate being in these circumstances rather than remembering this happening to him next.

He crouched down. An ornate opal necklace was visible, poking out of the paper. He recognized it, that was on display in Borgin and Burkes when last he'd been, the case had said it was cursed.

Sirius snarled, fighting back the impulse to spit in disgust at how often that store kept being brought up recently. He made a mental note to burn it to the ground, and sadly that wasn't even in his top ten of things he had to do first.

Katie must have touched it. He looked up at Leanne, who had started to shake uncontrollably, and asked how they'd come across this?

Leanne explained that's why they'd been arguing. Katie had come back from the bathroom with it, and she'd been acting odd saying she had to get it to Hogwarts right now. She brokenly ended in further sobs Katie had probably been Imperius and Leanne hadn't even realized!

"There are more ways of bending people to your will then that curse, that one just tends to be the most powerful." Lily murmured to herself, the idea of it happening at all still causing her to want to scream any second. Why did this have to keep happening in Harry's life? She wished this was more boggling, but sadly in their time in school it wasn't unheard of for students to come across cursed objects, and cursing each other with powerful spells was a walking liability, and still her son kept managing to find the most oblique ways of emphasizing that in his life.

Hermione patted her shoulder gently.

Harry tried to find out more, if Katie had said who it was for, but Leanne said Katie wouldn't say. So she'd tried to take it away from her, and then- Leanne let out a wail of despair.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then pulled his scarf from around his face and, ignoring Ron's gasp, carefully covered the necklace in it and picked it up.

James shivered so hard the book nearly fell from his grasp. He understood why Harry was doing it of course, so no one else could unwittingly come across it, so someone like Dumbledore could investigate it. Reasoning obviously said Harry would be fine, so had Katie until it had been touched by skin and his son was clearly being careful of this. None of that fought off the compulsion to slap that away from his child this second, to be the one to do this instead.

He told his friends they'd have to take this to Madam Pomfrey.

As they followed Hermione and Leanne up the road, Harry was thinking furiously. They had just entered the grounds when he spoke, unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer, he spoke aloud to Ron this must have been Malfoy's doing. This is what he'd bought that day in Borgin and Burkes.

"You're very likely not wrong," Lily passively agreed as she watched his hurried steps pick up in tempo, weather in agitation for being wrong or excitement of being right she really couldn't tell. "It does tie up rather well, but at the same time, it doesn't at all explain the conversation you heard between Borgin and Draco." The bit about being seen carrying it down the street sticking out most in her mind, this was easily something that could have been hidden away. Hermione herself had seen it moments later when she'd stepped in after Malfoy.

Harry just gave a jerky nod he'd heard her without adding anything, likely meaning he was still thinking hard about something else, or trying very hard not to think of something more likely.

Ron was hesitant of the idea, reminding this had happened in a girls bathroom, surely Malfoy wasn't in there.

"Like a bloke couldn't slip into the girls bathroom for a second," Sirius jeered, entirely sick of Harry's friends protesting something like this at every turn. "It's not as if it's got a ward on it to stop us!"

"An interesting query though, why the girls bathroom? If it was indeed Malfoy and not some isolated incident, why did it have to be a girl? Malfoy could have just as easily done this to any male coming along," Remus muttered, wondering if they were missing some significance in light of Harry's train of thought.

Before Harry could go any further, McGonagall came marching down the stairs to meet them. Harry quickly handed over the wrapped necklace. They were stopped by Filch at the door hurrying forward with his Secrecy Sensor,

"That's another thing," James said in clipped tones. "No matter the cursers intentions, there's no way that thing would have gotten in the school past Filch with Katie."

"Maybe she wasn't trying to get it back to the school, but headed to somewhere else in Hogsmeade with it." Remus offered.

"No, Leanne specifically said someone inside Hogwarts," Harry parotid, still pacing this way and that as his mind clamored to show him something he was forced to keep away, the movement wasn't helping at all.

"Someone inside Hogwarts who very likely wasn't actually inside the school at that time," Remus agreed. "Everyone in the castle was likely to be out that day," clearly thinking his theory still stood.

Harry didn't acknowledge him, afraid anything he said would only make his own mind worse.

McGonagall carefully passed the necklace off to him, telling him to take this to Snape.

They really were all in such a highly agitated state that hardly made a blip on their thoughts. If they'd thought about it at all, they would have said McGonagall herself, they just cared to much about Katie and whoever the target had been right now to think otherwise of who looked that thing over.

Harry and the others followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and into her office. The sleet-spattered windows were rattling in their frames, and the room was chilly despite the fire crackling in the grate. Professor McGonagall closed the door and swept around her desk to face Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the still sobbing Leanne.

The moment the door closed she demanded what happened.

Haltingly, and with many pauses while she attempted to control her crying, Leanne told Professor McGonagall how Katie had gone to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and returned holding the unmarked package, how Katie had seemed a little odd, and how they had argued about the advisability of agreeing to deliver unknown objects, the argument culminating in the tussle over the parcel, which tore open. At this point, Leanne was so overcome, there was no getting another word out of her.

McGonagall kindly asked her to go onto the Hospital Wing then, and she left.

Her expression returned sharp as she continued to the trio this all happened when Katie touched the necklace?

Harry described the rest in detail. Then he followed up if he could speak to Dumbledore.

She looked surprised, but responded he'd be gone until Monday. However, anything he had to tell the Headmaster could be said to her.

"I think you offended her," Sirius tried absently to put a smile in place, though nothing of this whole chapter had been funny at all.

For a split second, Harry hesitated. Professor McGonagall did not invite confidences; Dumbledore, though in many ways more intimidating, still seemed less likely to scorn a theory, however wild.

"I can see your point though," Lily said fairly, even if the same thing wouldn't have crossed her mind. No matter how open Dumbledore seemed to Harry, her son was still one of the few students in that school who would see him that way, everyone else had even less direct contact with him and would have gone to their head of house with this.

This was a life-and-death matter, though, and no moment to worry about being laughed at. So he blurted out his idea about Malfoy.

On one side of him, Ron rubbed his nose in apparent embarrassment; on the other, Hermione shuffled her feet as though quite keen to put a bit of distance between herself and Harry.

All three Marauders looked very snappy at that, with the firm belief they held that no matter their personal disagreements they wouldn't be showing that in front of anyone else. This was just insulting on Harry's friends part, far more than disagreeing with him in general when they wouldn't even play along with his idea.

McGonagall said that was a very serious accusation,

"He didn't accuse me?" Sirius went wide-eyed and innocent again.

Harry glanced up at him and gave an obligatory laugh, but only faked that this put him at ease as he sank down in the nearest seat, next to Remus. He was still rubbing hard at his temples, his eyes clenched shut and for all the world wishing he could sever his head to be rid of this constant pain.

Harry admitted he didn't have any proof, but also told her about what they'd heard over the summer.

Hermione cut in to remind Borgin had asked if he'd wanted to take a package with him, and Malfoy had said no.

Ron interjected he'd look like a prat carrying a necklace down the street.

"Both you boys really aren't keeping up very well with this," Lily shook her head at them.

"It had been months since that happened, not this morning," Harry mumbled in slight defense he hadn't recalled the exact words, even as much as he'd obsessed over them.

Hermione sharply reminded both of them it would have been wrapped up, that wasn't the problem. Obviously it had been something big and bulky Malfoy couldn't go around with.

McGonagall cut into their squabble, furious now at their accusation that held nothing. Hundreds of people could be in the same circumstance.

Ron muttered that's what he'd said.

"Congratulations Ron, now you're mimicking the book inside the book," Sirius pressed out an even more forced chuckle, growing heavily agitated this was getting harder every time.

In any case, Mr. Malfoy was not in Hogsmeade today.

"How would she know?" Lily muttered in confusion, that seemed more like something Snape would be aware of. The point didn't particularly matter she supposed, as she agreed with James' next words.

"Ra-drat," James sighed, there went his prime suspect.

"I wouldn't rule him out just yet though," Sirius still had a calculating look in place, still prepared to defend Harry's idea. "Crabbe or Goyle could have done this for him, if he is the one behind this." He really found it hard to believe Malfoy was very possibly up to something this year and then this happened without being connected.

Harry looked up sharply at him, but even this answer still felt a step off. Still, it did ease his pain somewhat, as always, to hear the conversation around him circulating, the true answer just beyond his reach but at least not festering as his dad continued.

Harry gaped at her, deflating, asking how she knew.

McGonagall explained he was doing a detention with her, as he'd failed to turn in two Transfiguration assignments.

"I didn't realize Malfoy's boasting earlier literally meant he wasn't going to be doing his work this year," Remus rolled his eyes at this inconsequential bit of information.

"Surprised he hasn't been paying someone to do it for him like all the other years," Sirius groused.

She dismissed them then, as she needed to go check on Katie.

They began climbing the stairs towards their dorm, and no matter how angry Harry was at the two for not backing him in front of McGonagall, he still joined in as they discussed who the necklace was supposed to go to.

Hermione said the most likely subjects were Dumbledore, Slughorn, or Harry.

Harry's eyes lit up briefly, he was so sure that was the right answer and the confidence nearly spurred him into words, but was cut off by Remus shaking his head while James had been listening the other two. "No, to all three. I'm still leaning towards it being a woman the intended target now. Why the girls bathroom, that part just makes no sense."

It had all happened so fast he'd lost his confidence with the exact same thought, back to muttering in squalor of the uselessness of his mind.

Harry disagreed with the last one at least, or Katie would have turned around right then to hand it to him.

"I might disagree," Lily hedged, twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she thought. "It really depends on the kind of magic placed upon her to force her doing this. If she'd been given the very explicit command to give this to you in your shared common room, she may not have even registered you behind her at all." Her focus came back though, and she shook her head sharply to dispel away that line of thinking. "Point is, though sound logic Hermione's using, we can't rule out anyone."

Harry could at least nod his agreement to that, though his eyes kept drifting out of focus like he'd struck gold and let it slip through his fingers all at once and for the life of him couldn't understand why.

He did wonder aloud why Malfoy had told her to take it into the castle at all.

Hermione stamped her foot in frustration Malfoy hadn't been in Hogsmeade today!

"Ooh, now we know we've got her in a temper," James huffed with a roll of his eyes, but did tell Harry, "you're being rather single minded with this though. You're causing just as much trouble not hearing others ideas and insisting on your own as they are ignoring yours."

"But you know I'm right!" Harry spluttered.

"Not really," he sighed. "I agree it's a very, very good chance, but it also never hurts to hear other ideas while you're at it. Could even somehow round back to helping your own on a completely different theory."

Harry crossed his arms and muttered defiantly, causing Remus to actually smirk in genuine amusement again. Harry sounded so like both James and Sirius with the grumbles he was using.

Harry moved past that, saying he must have an accomplice. Crabbe or Goyle, or any number of Death Eaters now he could call upon for help.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks that plainly said, 'There's no point arguing with him.'

"That's as much as you can ask for at this point," Sirius sighed. "Letting you talk yourself out."

"Gee, thanks," Harry snipped.

The portrait swung open to admit them to the common room. It was quite full and smelled of damp clothing; many people seemed to have returned from Hogsmeade early because of the bad weather. There was no buzz of fear or speculation, however: Clearly, the news of Katie's fate had not yet spread.

"Give it a few hours," Lily sighed, knowing this wasn't the kind of thing to stay secret in the castle.

"At least until breakfast," James agreed.

Ron boosted a first year out of a seat next to the fireplace as he said

Remus snorted in surprise.

the whole thing wasn't done very slick at all. The curse didn't make it into the castle, and had a very low chance of doing so. Not very foolproof.

Hermione agreed with him, even as she toed him out of the chair and offered it back t the first year.

"I'll call that a small miracle she managed that," Sirius agreed, finally managing an easy laugh along with Remus for that random exchange.

It hadn't been very well thought out at all.

Harry agreed up to the point of saying since when was Malfoy a great thinker.

Neither Ron nor Hermione answered him.

"Glory, why is it always you," James groaned as he hastily snapped his chapter shut before anything else could happen.

Harry couldn't help but agree. His stance on Malfoy aside, why had it been him coming across this at all!

HPHPHPHP

Actually, despite the characters not, I do get Harry's little tizzy over Mundungus in this chapter. I'd have been just as outraged, as it's the principle of the matter Sirius was being stolen from. I hope I made it clear though that they just don't because they can't associate that stuff with Sirius, whereas that's really all Harry has learned to attach to his godfather, things. He barely has any memories with him. This is getting depressing, but I still hope you enjoyed on some level.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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eak8753 · 4 years ago

Text

“You Made Your Decision”

They had always been a duo. They always knew each other like no other. The two birds of the team; Raven and Robin

Everyone on the team could see it. The bond between the two of them became all the more noticeable when he went to hell for her. Cyborg and Beast Boy were wary; Cyborg thought of Raven as a sister and would never want harm to befall her, she was already hurt too much. Beast Boy had seen first hand what it was like when she was heart broken, they had been each other’s biggest ally’s after Terra and Malchior, helping one another through the heart break.

Starfire hadn’t seen it at first. She just assumed Robin and was being nice, being a friend to Raven. Although she often wondered why he had been the one to go to hell for their friend. It had made the most sense for her or Cyborg to go, but instead Robin had gone. It had taken years after her and the Titan’s leader’s break up to understand that he had been in love with his fellow bird.

It was subtle at first, he had always found Raven attractive but it wasn’t until Tokyo that he knew that he was hopelessly in love with her. However, at this point he was already with Starfire, he knew that the two of them wouldn’t last, so he would wait out the relationship. It was a cowardly move, yes, but he would not hurt his alien friend’s feelings. Plus, Raven had always been a bit slow when it came to emotions, she probably didn’t even realize what was between them.

She knew. She knew before Cyborg or Beast Boy. Before Robin and far before Starfire. Raven knew how she felt, she was never one to lie to herself, and she knew that Robin felt the same. She was, after all, an empath. But he was with Starfire; he had made his decision and she would give him the opportunity to make it again, just not now.

Yes, they had always been a duo. Always knew each other like no other. The two birds of the team; Raven and Robin

Well, now Raven and Nightwing.

He had gone away. Bruce had called him back because the media was getting angsty and thought that Dick had gone missing or was killed. That had been almost a year ago, but now he was back. His absence didn’t have a huge effect on the team. The Titans Tower had been a popular spot for meta’s and supernatural teens/youth to crash. Although the original team still remained they did have a few constant visitors; Donna Troy/Wonder Girl, Wally West/Kid Flash and Jinx, Jericho, and Argent to name a few.

Another hero who visited constantly was Zachary Zatara. He was Zatanna’s little cousin and was a very skilled magician for his age. He had immediately taken a liking towards the empath and they often practiced magic together. He would invite her to his shows but she rarely came, preoccupied with something else.

It had been like this for years now. Everyone had grown accustomed to each other’s fighting styles and if one was to leave they could easily fill them in with another hero.

So no, the team’s fighting was affected by his absence but they did miss him. And he missed them. He decided that it would be fun if he surprised them. So he had taken the two hour flight from Gotham to Jump without their knowledge, got a cab from the airport to drop him off near a cafe and hauled his luggage the rest of the way. In hindsight, he probably should have called.

Once he entered the common room, two things happened. One, he was bombarded with hugs and “I missed you” “look who’s back” and other welcoming phrases. Two, Raven wasn’t there. If he was an adolescent he may have scolded himself over looking for her, but he knew now that he loved her and didn’t deny himself the simple pleasure of seeking her out.

“Hey guys, I missed you all too. It’s good to be back” he smiled up at his team, feeling the happiness radiating off of them.

“So uh, where’s everyone else?” They knew immediately that he didn’t actually care where everyone else was. He cared about where Raven was, and they couldn’t help but cringe at their leaders' words. They knew, eventually he would come back and he would find out, they had just always assumed Raven would be here to tell him herself.

“She’s uh” Cyborg stepped in, trying to think of a place we’re the sorceress could be.

“Park” “Library” “Cafe” Dick heard them all say simultaneously, he could hear the guilt in each of their voices. What he couldn’t understand is why? Where could she possibly be that would make him upset. Wha-

Suddenly the doors to the common room opened revealing a young man with a tux and white gloves on, a young woman in a knee length dress covered in lilac lace. Her sleeves were elbow length and she had on a pair of silver heels. Half her hair was pinned up to the middle of her head and the other half down, a few pieces of hair around her face to frame it.

The most disturbing thing about the picture however was the fact that the two of them were holding hands, while the boy smirked and the girl gave a slight smile.

Dick knew that smile, it was the smile that she gave when she found something interesting or was in awe. The smile she gave when someone said something amusing. The smile she gave when she was appreciative. The smile she gave when she was at ease; the smile she had always given him, and only him.

Zachary and Raven entered the common room, quickly looking over they’re friends faces and as she saw him, her smile faded a bit.

What was she doing holding Zachary Zatara’s hand? Didn’t she know that his cousin wanted her dead. And more importantly, she was supposed to be in love with him.

“Dick” Zachary said, surprise and amusement in his voice. “It’s good to have you back man” he said, noticing his gaze wasn’t in him. In his defense, he couldn’t take his eyes off Raven, she looked absolutely stunning and he had never seen her in a dress before. But where in the nine levels of hell was she and why was she with Zachary.

“Richard” she said, her voice monotone and cool; controlled. “Raven” he said in the same voice. Before he knew it though, he was pulled in a light hug by the small girl, and she gave a sigh. “Welcome back” her breathy voice said next to his ear, and he smiled as he returned the hug, basking in her warmth. All too suddenly though, she pulled away.

“When did you get back” she asked, and he was faintly aware of the guilt in her voice. “A few moments ago” he responded, and he was sure that his cheeks were lightly dusted in pink; it really wasn’t fair that she looked that good in a dress.

“You should have called, we would have picked you up” Zachary called, moving towards Raven once again. This snapped him out of his staring and he realized, for the second time that night, he didn’t know where she had been.

“Where were you guys anyway?” He said nonchalantly. His eyes were scanning her face, trying to see if there was anything he could pick up. Alas, she wasn’t called the “Ice Queen” for nothing.

“I had a show,” Zachary told him. Well that explained him being gone, but it didn’t explain Raven’s absence. Or why they were holding hands. Or why she was wearing a dress.

“And my presence was all but demanded” he heard her voice, the amusement evident in it.

“Yes, well” Zachary came around and turned her towards him, fully encircled her waist. “Forgive me for wanting to show off my breath-taking girlfriend” he said, leaning down to peck her lips.

“Girlfriend?” Dick asked. He mustn’t have heard them right, there was no way. Raven was in love with him, and he her. Sure they had never kissed, but he had kind of confessed before he left, he knew she understood what it stood for.

Turning towards Batman’s oldest son, the magician grinned. “Yeah, I finally plucked up the courage to ask her about 4 months ago.”

Four month. They had been in a relationship for 4 months and he didn’t know. He hadn’t really had a chance to call them while he was away, but had kept up with the news and knew of all of their battles; just as he knew they had kept up with the media and knew all about “Dick Grayson’s Return.”

Never had he thought any of their personal lives would have changed that much, least of all Raven’s. She didn’t like change and avoided it at all costs, it was only natural for him to assume that she wouldn’t have made such a drastic decision; that she would have waited.

Mumbling a quick excuse he left the common room to get some much needed rest. They would talk in due time, but for now he just wanted to wallow in his self pity.

***

It had been a few days since his return and he had yet been able to get Raven alone. He sighed in his cup of coffee. He had just come back from patrol and had a couple of cuts along his body, not many and certainly not enough to warrant any attention but they still hurt.

However, no amount of physical pain could ever be equal to the hurt that the hole in his heart caused. He didn’t understand, she was supposed to be with him. They had been in this game of “will they, won’t they” for years. He thought once he came back they would finally be together but...

The sound of footsteps broke him out of his thoughts. He knew those footsteps, they were hers.

“Raven” he said as she entered. She nodded towards him and made her way to the kettle, filling it with water. She was in her uniform; her classic blue cloak and a black catsuit. She turned around to face him, her back leaning on the counter. She looked tired but happy.

She looked beautiful

“How have you been?” She asked, running a hand through her hair. He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it, but he pushed those thoughts aside.

“Fine” he grunted. He would have been better if it didn’t feel like he had been stabbed repeatedly; but hey, he had dealt with heartbreak before. ‘Not like this’ he thought.

“You're mad” she stated. Sighing she turned towards the kettle that started screaming and poured the water into a mug, adding a teabag when she was finished. Lastly she added some honey and turned back to him, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m not mad” he started off. “I just, I don't get it Raven. I thought you loved me.”

“I did”

“So then why? Why Zachary? Why ruin what we have?” He didn’t understand, sure he had relationships even though he was in love with him - Starfire case and point. But that was when she was unattainable, when he had just realized his feelings for her. It was different now, they were adults, not confused teenagers.

“16 Dick. That’s how long we’ve been in love. That was when we went to Tokyo, when you kissed Kori, when you found out you loved me.”

He was stunned, he really thought she didn’t know how he felt until last year when he had semi confessed to her. Empath. She had known, for all these years, felt everything he had. Yet, she chose him, even after she knew how he felt about her, she chose him.

“Did you really think I was gonna wait forever?”

“Huh” came his intelligent reply.

“It’s been four years Dick, you made your decision. You made it all those years ago when you kissed Star in Tokyo, re-made it when you held her hand in front of the world.”

“I thought that once you two broke up we could be together, but then you went to Gotham. You made your decision again.” She knew this conversation was necessary but she really wished it could have been had when she hadn’t just woken up and yet to mediate.

“I had no choice, Bruce needed me and I couldn’t just leave him hanging-” No matter how much I wanted to be with you, he wished he could add, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“Did you have no choice in getting involved with Barbara? Did Bruce need you for that too? You made your choice Dick, whether it was the right one or not you made it.” She said so quietly he strained his ears listening.

“Well what was I supposed to do? We couldn’t be together at the time and the media ate it up. Sure, I had feelings for her but they’re nothing compared to the ones I have for you.” He pleaded with her, trying to show her his side.

“Look Dick, I know now that we can’t be together; never could”

“But we can be, we could have been if you hadn’t got together with Zachary. If you had-“

“Shawn” her voice broke. “What” he asked. What did she have to do about this, they had been together for less than two weeks.

“I thought the reason you didn’t tell me about your feelings after yours and Kori’s breakup was because you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Even if I could do the heels and dresses, I would never be accepted by high society. I’m not tall or undeniably beautiful; not like Star or Babs. But then you got with Shawn and I knew that no matter how much you loved me or how much I loved you, we could never be together.” She slightly screamed, but did Raven ever scream. She looked to be on the verge of tears and he just wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was gonna be okay.

But they weren’t, things had become so strained between them, he didn’t know if they could be fixed; but he hoped, oh god he hoped they could.

“So when Zachary asked me out, I said yes. He’s loved me almost as long as you have, he just did something about it first. Yeah, I gave up on ‘us’ first, but you drove me to that point. I wasn’t going to wait forever Richard.”

“Do you love him?” He swallowed, he didn’t want to know the answer but he had to ask.

“No” she shook her head. “I don’t love him, and he knows that. But I like him, oh Azar, I really, really like him Richard. He's amazing and patient and funny and a little flashy and cocky but in an enduring way.” She rambled, and he let her, for although he loved her and every word she spoke was a stab to the heart, she was still his friend first and foremost. He would pretend to be happy for her, even if he was dying on the inside.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, Zachary walked into the kitchen, hair and shirt disheveled. Grumbling he walked up the sorceress and pecked her on the cheek, grabbing the mug from her hands and taking a sip from the tea. Sighing in contentment he turned to go make a proper breakfast.

“Toast or waffles?” He asked the mage. “Waffles” she said without missing a beat, excitement in her eyes. The magician chuckled at her expression and taped her on the nose lightly.

He loved moments like these, moments where he didn’t have to be “Zachary: Teen Magician.” Sure he loved performing, but he would be happy to just sit and read with the dark girl. He still couldn’t believe she was his, after years of silently pinning after her, she was his.

Turning around he addressed the Titans leader, nodding towards him. He knew of their history, more than Raven thought he did. It was one of the reasons he had been so shocked when she said yes, but she had and he made sure that she didn’t regret it everyday they spent together.

“I have to meditate, I’ll be done in an hour and after breakfast I have to go into town and pick up a few things” she said to both of them.

“I’ll come” Zachary insisted, and surprisingly she didn’t put too much of a fight, he assumed whatever had happened between her and Dick had taken a lot of her emotionally. He made a mental note to check up on her as he watched her retreating form.

“You know” he said to the acrobat. “You May have been the one to go to hell for her. But don’t think for a second you’re the only one willing to.”

“Excuse me” the leader supplied.

“I know you love her, but so do I” with that he turned back to making breakfast.

The Titans leader just found himself nodding towards the magician before leaving for his room.

As he entered he leaned his head against the door, feeling the tears underneath his eyelids. He smiled a bit sadly.

She may be taken at the moment, but they had been friends since they were 14. They had their whole lives ahead of them to get together; they had time.

#raven #robin #raven x robin #raven x nightwing #raven x zachary #teen titans #heartbreak #fanfic #am i allowed to do this #dick is heart broken oh no #im sorry #ima cry now

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vivithefolle · 5 years ago

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Have you read endrina's "The Secret Language of Plants" series on AO3? It is so good and so long and it does some really amazing stuff with Ron. With all characters really, except for the Death Eaters and Voldemort (and a little bit of Dumbledore) this author creates the best versions of these characters that JKR *wishes* she had been well rounded and clever and emotionally honest enough to write. "The Meaning of Mistletoe" is the first one. Its a full canon rewrite. All 7 books are covered!

I am very torn.

On the one hand it contains Drarry and Snupin and Geormione and I hate those.

On the other hand... the Ron-appreciation is fan-freaking-tastic.

Find it here.

Ah of course it’s somewhat a “Severus Snape mentors Harry Potter”, so we get those:

Severus had a tell. His face would be impassive, his voice perfectly even and smooth and devoid of all inflection. But if he found something funny, his left hand would twitch and he would close his fist instead of laughing. Harry was probably the only person who knew (maybe Remus did, he didn’t know). Twice, Severus had found one of Ron’s comments funny.

I gotta admit I have a soft spot for the Ron&Snape BROTP, AVPM has a way of making you appreciate it

“He has a… a permanent poker face” whispered Hermione as Severus waved Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, in the direction of the lake.

“You just have to learn how to read him” explained Harry while petting Buckbeak’ head to keep him quiet. “I know for a fact that he finds Ron very funny.”

“Funny?” Ron was having a day full of affronts. “He has given me more detentions than McGonagall ever has.”

(Not true. It was a tie).

How the Yule Ball ought to have gone - minus the gross Drarry shit:

Harry’s robes had belonged to three different witches of various tastes and body types before being purchased by Mrs. Weasley and adapted to be Ron’s formal outfit.

The next step had been very simple. Ron still cared about what other people thought. Harry did not. He really, really, did not. They traded. Ron resisted at first, because it was the polite thing to do, but once Harry got ahold of the dress and started to jump on the bed saying “mine, mine, mine” he accepted the exchange.

His smile had been so soft and wondering, as if Harry had given him the world. Harry felt as if he were trespassing on some religious ceremony, so grateful Ron looked, so easy it had been to make him happy.

Harry’s robes were green, to bring out his eyes. The colour also went very well with Ron’s hair and he looked quite fine. Not as elegant as Draco, for sure, but certainly one of the handsomest students in the ball

[...]

Harry could honestly say that he loved his new dress robes. Specially the cuffs. Oh, the glorious cuffs with three layers of lace. Harry could say that he loved the robes in all their frilly magnificence, but that wouldn’t be completely truthful because what he loved was the effect he had on people.

Headcanon accepted:

“Honestly, I don’t know why are you all acting so surprised.” He said to a variedly pink audience. Seamus Finnigan looked as if he had measles. “They are my brothers, you know. I had to grow up with them. And I am friends with Harry.”

Ron, like Percy, was easily overshadowed by the more explosive and flashy performances of his siblings. Ginny in particular, with her choleric character and her excellent jinxes, came on top of Ron. But Ron was not the runt of the group, not at all. Ron had slowly and painstakingly come to master a subtle non-verbal almost motionless magic, ever since his first year of school when he smuggled his wand to use during punishments. You would not see Ron cast anything, but he was, all the time. All. The. Time. Like someone compulsively pressing the save button on a computer. This was Ron, only with magic, defensive magic. It was now past conscious habit and it had become a tic.

Look, his brothers turned his favourite teddy bear into a spider, when he was on his second year a teacher tried to obliviate him, and the next year he was mauled by an over-enthusiastic Black (“so sorry, Ronald. Do you want a broom? I will get you a broom. Or better yet, a flying motorbike. I am sure you will look great in leather”). Note that he very generously was leaving the first year out, because it was the one time in Ron’s life when he actually went looking for trouble. Every other time the trouble came to find him.

It was only natural, given that he lived in a magical household where he could practice magic during the summers, that he would practice all the protective spells he could learn. He lived with Ginny, too, in case people had forgotten that. It was mere survival instinct on his part.

(Oddly, Percy had been quite helpful. He gave him tips and let him borrow his notes).

By the time he was starting his fourth year, it wasn't that Ron could cast protego in his sleep, it’s that he did. Constantly and absentmindedly. On himself, on Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna (for heaven’s sake that girl was too fragile, someone should look after her). Really, he was casting protego on everyone all the time.

MY BABIES MY UNAPPRECIATED BABIES

Percy was not his dad, he did not share his fascination with muggle ingenuity, but he did pay attention to his father. More than any of his brothers, actually, not that it was ever appreciated. Percy was never appreciated. (Not a complaint, just a statement. At the moment that lack of appreciation was what allowed him to work unnoticed. Hooray for ignored middle children).

(Side note: He should check with Ron, because Ronald was also very much a middle child like him and it occurred to Percy now that his little brother might be sitting on some big secrets of his own.)

Even though this fic went with the “Draco is second best to Hermione in class” cliché and I hate it it does get some things right:

Hermione wasn’t very good with emotions, hers or anyone else’s. She had always exhibited more awareness than Ron, it’s true, but that was more due to Ron having a philosophical acceptance of life than to any particular sensitivity on Hermione’s part. She was not very good with emotions because emotions clouded judgement and Hermione put all her might in her razor sharp mind. This is something that she understood very well.

This is why that morning, after breakfast, she had unfolded a piece of parchment on the table (sadly there were only two notebooks in the house and they were mostly full) and had announced, with great assuredness, that Voldemort must had been and still be very scared.

We love a Minerva that appreciates her chess lion

Minerva had put a swift end to the competition for Most Mischievous Student Ever by naming Potter (Harry) and Weasley (Ron) the ultimate and unsurpassable winners. (“I mean it, don’t even think about trying to take their place, unsurpassable I said.”)

She stood by her judgement because Harry was giving her headaches even in absentia and although Ronald grumbled a little bit that “he didn’t do nothing” there was not much force behind it. Minerva didn’t know exactly what Ronald had done or not done, but she would glare at him as if she knew and the boy looked guilty enough.

At this point, she wouldn’t even be that surprised if he turned out to be an animagus too. He had kept quiet about Severus’ involvement with Harry and he casted protegos nonverbally, so who knew what else he could do.

Ron’s Patronus is the best Patronus and this is canon

Ron was good, had always been good. When asked, because the quality and endurance of his patronus was amazing, he said he just had to think of that pigeon message that told him that his friend was alive and that was enough.

[SPOILER ALERT]

And Ron fucking killing Voldemort is like... *chief’s kiss*

Ron had grown as a young child in a big family. Not even the youngest which is a position of honour in a certain way and often featured prominently in fairy tales. No, he was the one just before, young but not the youngest. There were so many brilliant brothers before him that he knew he would never get to have an “-est” for him. Not the brightest or the funniest or the bravest.

Ron had gone through a process of acceptance in life. By the time he came to Hogwarts he had known and accepted that if he didn’t manage to do something magnificent and astonishing, he would be a bit of an embarrassment for the family. The runt, the one who did nothing remarkable. But even if he achieved a wonderful feat he would still be following the steps of his brothers and so it would not be something extraordinary. He could not win either way and he had accepted that.

By the time he was in his fourth year he had come to accept that his best friend, Harry Potter, was too much of a good person to resent him for all the attention he got and that Ron craved. During that year with the stupid trials Ron had come to accept that he would always be overshadowed by his brothers and friends. Talented Bill and Charlie and even Percy and his good grades, funny twins, clever Hermione, and lastly Harry who was very odd but still the Boy Who Lived. Ron was none of that and it was a bit like drinking black tea with no sugar, it wasn’t nice but he could take it and he could still care about all of them.

Ron had accepted a life of being the runt, the spare, the disappointment. Not even the black sheep of the family, not even that because Percy of all people beat him to it. Ron would be the grey dull brother, not so bad to be the outcast, not so good to be someone for himself. He had accepted it because at that moment making sure all the people he loved were safe was way more important than Ron’s sense of self-worth.

He had accepted it.

Perhaps this is not clear. He had accepted it. He was resigned to a lacklustre life, to becoming an insipid note in everyone else’s lives’ accounts. Ron Weasley, brother of the founders of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Ron Weasley, older brother of record holder Quidditch player Ginevra Weasley. Ron Weasley, brother of William the curse-breaker and Charles the dragon-tamer. Ron Weasley, friend of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Never in his wildest dreams and fantasies in which he got all the recognition and awards, never, had Ron thought he would become Ron Weasley the One Who Slayed Voldemort.

#ask #vivi answers #hp fanfic recs #ron weasley #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad

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lionheartslowstart · 5 years ago

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Medicated

Medication has a bit of stigma surrounding it, specifically medication for mental health issues. Not everyone needs medication, and that’s okay. But some people desperately need medication to function, and I happen to be one of those people. Being on medication for mental health isn’t different than being on medication for physical health, which I also happen to be on. I take medication for my thyroid disorder. Without it, I’d gain a shit ton of weight, sleep for about twenty hours a day, be exhausted all the time, and be extremely depressed. The medication I take for my mental illness is just as crucial to my overall well-being. When I’m not medicated, my brain feels like a tornado. My moods are constantly shifting between disparate extremes, to the point where I completely lose track of what I’m feeling and why. I have little to no control over these swings or how I behave while experiencing them. Even though I’ve become more self-aware, that self-awareness, unfortunately, doesn’t always contribute to self-control. I have tried many different medications throughout my life, some more successful than others. But I always needed to come off at some point or another for various reasons.

Well, a couple of months ago, my psychiatrist started me on a new medication. We’ve been gradually increasing it every few weeks, and I gotta say, it’s been going great! I’ve never felt this good on a medication before. It feels like the dust is clearing, and I can really see everything for the first time in a long time. I feel vastly more present and mindful than I can even remember. Don’t get me wrong, I still have problems, symptoms, etc., but they are significantly more under control now. I have more energy, less anxiety, and even though I still have mood swings, it’s different. Not only are my moods far less extreme, but also much less intense. I can put more distance between myself and those feelings, I can compartmentalize a lot better. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel more in control of myself than I ever have before. I hope I’m not jinxing it, but I’m excited to see how this medication continues to work for me. Hopefully I’ll continue to get even better!

#mental health #mental health problems #mental illness #depression #anxiety #borderline #borderline personality disorder #bpd #ptsd #post traumatic stress disorder #cptsd #complex ptsd #complex post traumatic stress disorder #meds #medication #medicated #end the stigma

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theclintbartonbraindump · 5 years ago

Text

Clint Barton x Reader - N(ice) Doggies Ch. 1

Pairing - Clint Barton (Hawkeye) x Reader (that’s you)

Word count - 1772

Warnings - Language I guess, but what did you expect.

This is my first fic that I am actually posting! There will be at least one more chapter, possibly two depending on where it goes and how wordy I get. Just something nice and fluffy. Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions, I’m always looking to improve! Enjoy!

__________

“Did you see that?” The words came from Clint’s mouth as a stuttered hiss as another gust of icy wind whipped around him. The small valley the two of you had chosen to settle down in for the night was offering about as much protection from the Russian winter as a wet blanket. Even with the tent blocking you from the majority of the wind you could still feel wave after wave of what felt like liquid ice traveling under your chin and down the front of your coat. That whole experience was nothing short of miserable.

You and Clint had been told this was the tamest January this part of Siberia had seen in over a decade. “Thank God for that global warming,” the hotel manager had quipped, earning a look from you that was so cold it probably would’ve seen the global crisis reversed. If this was mother nature’s idea of tame you hated to think what she might throw at you if you ever showed up at her door unannounced, interrupting her favorite soap opera.

You shivered aimlessly as the hand Clint had been using to gesture towards whatever he’d apparently seen quickly retreated back to his coat pocket. Despite the violent protest from your neck, which had grown painfully stiff from the cold and your hopeless shivering, you lifted your gaze to match his own. You knew it was probably nothing, just shapes in the snow as is swirled through the trees, but you also knew that he’d keep pestering you about it if you didn’t make some attempt to ease his paranoia. As you suspected your eye met nothing but the endless sea of conifers, painted white by the blasting snow. You tried looking beyond the tree line, hoping to give Clint the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t just seeing things, but again there was nothing. You saw only the same thing you’d seen for the past three days, trees and snow. The most interesting thing you’d seen on your little Russian excursion was an owl, landing talons first on an unsuspecting field mouse. You looked back to Clint with sarcastic concern.

“I wasn’t aware that hypothermia also caused hallucinations. Or is that the sleep deprivation acting up again. I told you I could take a longer watch.”

“And I told you I am fine, I don’t need more sleep, Mom!” The emphasis he threw onto the last word made you smile as you turned back to the small fire that was now in serious danger of being blown out. It had taken the two of you nearly two hours and Clint using his body as a shield to finally get it lit. If it died now you were certain you would resign yourself to the same fate without a second thought. Damn wind! Weren’t the trees supposed to protect you from this shit?

Clint ignored your amusement at his outburst and turned his gaze towards some distant point beyond the tree. He lingered there quietly for a few more moments before continuing in his defense.

“And I’m not crazy. I definitely saw something.”

“Well Hawkeye, I’ll just have to take your word for it, I guess. You are the eyes of this duo after all.”

You didn’t even have to look up to know that a mischievous smirk had crawled its way onto his lips.

“Oh yeah, what does that make you?”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“Mom, apparently.”

Clint playfully swat at your arm, earning himself a feigned look of anguish to which he just smirked.

“I guess somebody’s gotta keep an eye on me.” He mused.

“If Natasha gave up I don’t know how SHIELD expects me to do any better.” The Russian assassin, and your personal friend, you were more than a little proud to say, had turned the walking catastrophe that was Clint Barton over to you for a couple of missions while she was “on vacation”. Knowing full well that Natasha would sooner be dead than take any well-deserved time off, you guessed that this was just her way of telling you that she was off on an extended solo mission that required her full attention. i.e. she didn’t have time to babysit the strangely easily distracted archer. Clint was the best marksman in the world, there was no doubting that, but his lack of any real formal training showed in some unusual ways. Most recently you’d noticed that it reared its head in Clint’s inability to focus on any one thing for more than exactly seven minutes. Why seven, you had no idea, but you’d clocked it more than once and each time at the seven-minute mark he’d be turning to you with some random thought, usually pertaining to food. The man really just needed someone to keep him on target, literally.

“What makes you say that? I think you’re doing a great job.”

While you wanted to be surprised that Clint hadn’t even pretended to be offended by your previous comment, you couldn’t manage it, because there it was again. You felt it every time he gave you that lopsided smile. It was like he knew the power it had over you. Like he knew it would always make you forget whatever scold or self-deprecating remark you had been planning to make. It’s like he knew just how to make your heart feel lite but turn your knees to lead at the same time. You’d known each other for years but had only really been able to get the chance to know the real Clint Barton over the past few weeks and he was still a mystery to you. You were now more confused about the archer than you had ever been and you didn’t know if his remarks were meant as mischief or if he truly meant it all to be endearing. Clint’s sense of humor, or rather his personality to be honest, always made it difficult to discern the sincere from the sarcasm.

You lowered your head a bit further to hide the blush that was forcing its way to your cheeks. True it would’ve been hidden under layers of rosy, snow-blasted skin, but you couldn’t take the chance. You smiled and went back to poking hopelessly at the fire before finally giving up. In its unattended state, the flames began to wither and eventually choked out of existence. Neither of you made a move to save it so as the fire finally flickered out the cold began to seep its way back into your bones. Not only that, but you were now very aware that night had fallen. Without the fire and with little to no moonlight reaching through the dense canopy of pine trees, you and Clint found yourselves enveloped in the near pitch black.

“Could be worse.” Clint piped up as he shifted closer to you.

“Really? Even with Bigfoot out there creeping on up.”

“I’m serious!”

“How Clint? How does this get worse? I’m sitting here freezing my ass off in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere Russia for absolutely no reason at all.”

Ok, maybe not no reason. You had been sent out here for a pretty legitimate reason actually. Something about Hydra recruiting in the area in the hopes of setting up a base. But days worth of trudging through the snow surrounding your coordinates had only proved what you’d guessed after about the eighth hour of your search. This was all a wild goose chase. Clint had radioed in to report as much only to be met with the news that you’d be forced to stay in the wilderness for at least another 24 hours due to inclement weather. Only once the storm cleared would you be evacuated. That was 36 hours ago, and the snow was showing no signs of relenting. To make matters worse your food stores were running low. You either needed to be rescued or to find the town you had started out in soon or they’d be adding you to the town folklore about people who never came out of these woods.

“There could be wolves.” You stared at him. Jesus Christ why was he like this?

“Wolves?”

“Yeah, you know, wolves. Like doggies only bigger and hungrier.” Why did he look so proud of himself?

“I know what they are, dingus.” You threw and ill-conceived snowball at him in retaliation for the lame joke that still had you chuckling despite yourself. Clint attempted to get his revenge by tackling you, only to be met with an armful of the snow you’d just been sitting in. You looked down at him amused from where you were now standing before gazing out once again past the trees. “You better not jinx us. There’s no way you and I are fighting off monster dogs in our sorry state.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t worry. If there was a pack in the area they would’ve found us by now.” He sounded so nonchalant as he picked himself up and brushed the snow from his pants and jacket. Like he hadn’t just been cracking jokes about one of the many creatures in the region that could and would definitely tear you to shreds. “Come on, let’s get inside. No use staying out here in Jack Frost’s asshole.”

“You go ahead. I’ll keep watch for a while.” You started to take your place back on the ground when Clint caught your arm.

“Of what? The pinecones? Look the fire’s blown out and there’s nothing to see out here, sweetheart. At this point, if there is anything out there you’ll hear it before you see it. Storm’s picking back up. Even I can’t see more than 10 feet ahead out here. Best to just stay in and wait it out.”

His words were all but lost on you after the utterance of the new nickname. Clint had a rep for be a pretentious flirt and you were definitely no stranger to that side of him. You’d been subject to his bad pick-up lines on so many occasions you had started keeping a tally. None of it ever really got to you, or so you had convinced yourself, but there was something in it this time that made you stop and do a mental double-take. Maybe you were overthinking this. You were definitely overthinking this. But then again, he looked more sincere than playful. You shook yourself out of your mild shock when you realized that Clint had been staring at you expectantly. You decided to blame his sudden change in demeanor on the shit circumstances you found yourselves in as you knelt down to climb into the tent.

#clint barton #hawkeye #avengers #clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #avengers x reader #marvel #clint deserves more love #clint barton / reader #hawkeye / reader #avengers / reader

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vicweasley · 5 years ago

Text

I was born with a HURRICANE HEART with wild rains and unchallenged rogue winds; I am constantly fighting, fighting to keep those dear to me within its eye.

DICHEN LACHMAN? No, that’s actually VICTOIRE WEASLEY from the NEXT GEN ERA. You know, the child of FLEUR WEASLEY ( NEÉ DELACOUR ) and BILL WEASLEY? Only 27 years old, this SLYTHERIN alumni works as a DRAGONOLOGIST and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. SHE identifies as GENDERQUEER and is a 1/8TH VEELA who is known to be MERCURIAL, SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, and STUBBORN but also LOYAL, PASSIONATE, and STRATEGIC. — &&. ( JINX, PST, SHE/THEY, 24. ) Note: Victoire is adopted.

PLAYLIST • PINTEREST

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: Mercutio ( Romeo and Juliet ), Kady Orloff Diaz ( The Magicians ), Bellamy Blake ( The 100 ), Kara Thrace ( Battlestar Galatica ), Sara Lance ( Legends of Tomorrow )

HEADCANON ONE:

Character Name: Victoire Apolline Delacour-Weasley

VICTOIRE: Seventeen years of hearing stories about those who died on her ‘birthday’ before her. Over a decade of not celebrating it when she realized what it meant to others. Of course, she understands that this is the burden she carries – while her cousins bear namesakes of those who had fallen before them, she is the painful reminder of the day they lost people – so they could win freedom. She is the h e l l f i r e that is left after a victory, scorching technicolor brutal memories into the minds of those who were left behind. Still, she is a Victory none the less, and her family adopted her the day of a horrible day when she was a baby. They chose her instead of the pain, they named her after the good instead of seeing the bad. APOLLINE: The french derivative of the name Apollonia which comes from the Greek god, Apollo. Apollo, the god of the sun, prophecy, music, beauty, healing, poetry, plague and so much more. It could be said that Victoire is her own brand of beautiful – of course the Veela genes help ( or do they? ) but if there’s anything she’s gotten from this namesake it’s the love of music. She’s sure that if she wasn’t going to work with dragons when she was older it would be with music – something she practically speaks as a language. The name might sound too flowery or too soft for Victoire – but her grandmother from which she was given this name was still a Veela. She still had the siren song that was deadly to almost associated with her name. Still, just because Victoire is comparable to a constantly raging storm – she has times where parts of her mother and grandmother comes out. DELACOUR: While she embraces the Weasley, Victoire also embraces her mother’s French heritage. If there’s anything of her mother, of this side of the family that comes out – it’s when she speaks French. She refuses to call her mother anything but maman, and will quickly switch to French around her during Weasley-Potter-Lupin gatherings at the burrow to make her feel even a little more comfortable. For Victoire, the Delacour name embodies softness and embodies femininity that she’s not always connected to. It reminds her that she’s not been alone in being discriminated against or objectified, that others understand what it’s like to be in her place to some extent. It’s then that she’s able to embrace the girl, that she’s able to feel like one and not always so at war with her body and herself. WEASLEY: If the other parts of her name didn’t already come with enough precedence – perhaps the name ‘Weasley’ was the icing on the cake. She couldn’t be prouder to be a Weasley, no matter how much fussing her grandmother does or how everyone is in everyone’s business – Victoire knows she is lucky. Vic is well aware of how privileged she is & how her infamous family of blood traitors are lucky to have the life they do. Even though she looked different from some of her family, so did so many of her other extended family members. She took comfort in the fact that Weasley-Potters were a mixed bunch, in personality, in races, in ideals, and her being different was celebrated. There may have been a thirst to know her heritage the older she got, one that would later be quenched, but her real family were the Weasley’s. They chose her, they were better than her blood family ever was, not that she could remember them.

Pronouns & Gender: She/Her. Victoire identifies as Genderqueer.

HEADCANON TWO:

gender dysphoria tw

C h a n g i n g. From the minute Victoire was born, she was always fidgeting, always moving and her first display of magic was at 4 years old, when she tried to change her hair blue like Teddy’s. Instead, it changed her beautiful crop of dark brown into a dirty blonde. Often, she’d find herself envying Teddy’s abilities to change, feeling uncomfortable in her skin and angry that it wasn’t as easy for her. As she grew older, she came to understand what her body was, what it would be and that she’d never be able to change herself like Teddy or change herself at all. Any change that she’d make would be permanent and she found herself not wanting that in the slightest. Not wanting to limit herself because while Victoire loved her feminine side – there was something she felt growing in her soul that was just … something else. It didn’t have a label but it became her, it was her, and it was confusing but it was who she was. Victoire did research and after a while the closest thing she could find to what she felt her gender was the term: genderqueer. Of course, after she realized this she told her parents, getting nothing but support from them. A reason they’ve let Victoire dye her hair so much and wear clothes that some parents would have heart attacks at, is so she feels like she has an option to be who she is. Even though they know that their child will be who she is with or without their permission, they figure helping her along the way in a world where there are many people who are against what her gender is & think it’s unnatural. They are Vic’s parents after all and after a war where they lost family and friends who gave their lives so their children could have freedom – it seems trivial to ever fuss over something like gender. At twenty seven, Vic is more comfortable in herself but still struggles. She keeps it to herself instead of talking about her own dysphoria because it seems trivial compared the war going on around her, compared to so much else.

HEADCANON THREE:

About: ( SELF HARM MENTION, VIOLENCE MENTION, MISOGYNY MENTION )

Storm with skin. The performer. { Secret Strategist }. Masochistic with sadistic tendencies because she is just so filled with A N G E R ( being sexualized at a young age, her ass pinched on her first Hogsmeade trip, and so so much more that she doesn’t have a language to explain it in — only violent actions ). N o t that she’d let you know. Warrior, no,VALKYRIE more of a DRAGON than a girl ( if she ever was a g i r l in the first place ),��fiercely protective of the people she loves — and if you dare mess with her family, friends, or any of the sort, you better run for oblivion. V I C T O R Y in her veins that she will hold onto until her dying breath.

Victoire Weasley is more than just a simple human being, she’s the true embodiment of what it means to be a storm with skin. Enigmatic even.

Victoire is quite sure of who she is, what she wants in life & what she will get, she’s quite sure of everything that she is —-

…but in those moments she blacks out in pure rage — she’s not so sure.

She’s h o r r i f i e d. In those moments where she looks for pain like she’s a drug addict and it’s her next fix, she mortified. She can’t remember how it quite started – a punch to the wall there after a fight, a purpose slap in the face, anything that released the rage she had. Victoire didn’t dare release it on the people she loved because she’d never be able to forgive herself for that, but it grew. The feeling grew and soon she had to hurt herself. But she can remember when she knew. When she needed reminders, when she needed blood and big bruises to litter her body. It’s something she’s so ashamed of, that she hasn’t let on to anyone. A reason Victoire craves fights and sometimes throws them is because of this masochistic need to hurt herself – just letting people beat her to unconsciousness. Her anger is so great, so c o n s u m i n g, there’s the small hope if she finds a way to release it somehow – it’ll go away.

“I will always scare; and more than anyone else — myself.”

It was in House of Serpents that she learned there is grey. There is moral grey, and it’s where she lives. With a heart so big, so W I D E, that even she doesn’t realize it’s part of the reason her anger can consume her. Feeling things for Victoire Weasley is never half arsed, it’s full arsed, and her passion, her ambition, could be the death of her. Her ambition to save the ones she loves, to protect her family. F a m i l y. A word redefined by Victoire fucking Weasley.

But when you meet her, she’ll s m i l e. She’ll laugh, she’ll charm you most likely and she’ll talk about the fact that Freddie Mercury is much more interesting than John Lennon, thank you very much. How Johnny Cash, Jeff Buckley, Arctic Monkeys, HAIM, and Aerosmith should be listened to at least once a day and how if she wanted anyone’s singing voice besides Freddie’s, it would be Hayley Williams, no doubt. She’d take off her shirt to show you the tattoos that run down her back, tell you about the ones that s n a k e down shoulders, arms, legs and how they’re ones dedicated to each and every one of her family members. For her best friends. For past people she loved. With child like w o n d e r m e n t and pure genuine glee, she’ll talk about her dragon, Mercury, and how her and Hagrid planned to try to start a campaign to get real dragons at Hogwarts — or at least they had. Never has she doubted being a Dragonologist and never has she had so much peace.

THOUGHTS ON THE TIMECLASH: Victoire thinks it’s amazing, sure she’s worried about the world as a whole, but she thinks this timeclash is kind of lit! It’s like a big party to her in a way, she’s never been more excited to learn about history than through the actual people she actually read about in the history books. If anything, she’s trying to learn from the new people around her, often sparking up random conversations with absolutely anyone she can to try to understand where they all come from.

#quantum intro #ugh we love recycling!#but vic is real excited about the timeclash

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inner-sunshine · 6 years ago

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The Freebirth of Baby A:

After an eventful day of sightseeing in San Francisco with my husband's family, the night of April 25th was a bit restless for me. I was pretty worn out from walking all day, uncomfortable from being, at this point, 41 weeks 2 days pregnant.

I woke up multiple times in the night, experiencing a lull of back pain and overall tightness in my stomach muscles.

Weeks before this night, I had been excited, ready, then put off when my previous (what I didn't realize was prodromal and perfectly normal) labors fizzled to nothing.

However, something was different about this night. Falling asleep felt instantaneous, like my body needed me resting, yet I woke up a few times to use the bathroom- my body cleaning itself out to fully prepare.

I woke the morning of April 26th with what I recognized were actual waves- contractions. They weren't regularly spaced nor very painful, moreso uncomfortable, like gas pain.

Hosting company, I cooked breakfast for everyone occasionally pausing to acknowledge the waves of my womb.

My mother-in-law noticed something off about me, I think how I was more into myself than my usual social self, and I told her I didn't want to jinx anything, but I thought I was in early labor.

My husband's family wanted to continue sight-seeing parts of the Bay Area (they were visiting from Chicago where we are originally from) and left the house about midday. Only my husband, L & B (my sons), and myself remained.

Looking back now, I'm thankful that they wanted to give us some space because I needed a few hours to get into a more internal mindset to keep my goal on track -- delivering my baby at home.

The boys played while I bounced on an exercise ball, opening my hips and swaying with the waves of contractions. At this point they were still pretty far apart, about 12-15 minutes, and pretty short in length.

After nearly 2 hours of that (about 2pm), I was becoming impatient and a little frustrated because not only were my contractions not picking up, it almost felt like they were slowing down. (Though now, I feel this was all in my head)

I told my husband I wanted to go out and walk around, coincidentally it was when Toys R Us was closing all their locations and the one local to us was having a huge sale, so we went. I figured we could get something for the boys to get involved with in case I either A; do have the baby at home, or B; need to transfer and my MIL has to take the boys. I paced around the store while the kids picked out play doh, toy trucks, and sidewalk chalk.

Leaving the store I tell my husband I want to go home, right now. We had planned maybe stopping somewhere to eat, but even though my contractions hadn't changed much, something changed within me and I just wanted to be home. I followed my instincts.

We got home, a bit after 3, B was really weepy so I decided to lay down and try to nap with him. We were both tired. My body told me to rest and I obliged. I was (well, tbh, still AM) breastfeeding B and thought getting a quick feed in would probably help me progress and relax us both. B fell asleep, and so did I.... for about 20 minutes.

I woke up to contractions that felt a lot more intense than they were previously. I decided to get in the tub to get some relief, especially for my back, for me, is where I feel most of my labors. I timed a couple contractions and they were only about 10 minutes apart. I thought I had a ways to go, hours at least- and by this time it was about 4:30 PM.

I'm not one to condone cervical checks during labor, to be frank, they don't mean anything progress-wise and can potentially irritate an already busy cervix. Alas I was curious, so while in the tub I checked my cervix and to my surprise-- it felt incredibly high up, so high I couldn't even reach it to see how dilated I was. I was so frustrated, at this point I really thought baby wasn't going to be born until after midnight.

I started feeling a little discouraged; I was tired and thought I hadn't even made it halfway, I cried a little. Then, I laid in the tub and just closed my eyes, trying to ground myself while breathing as deeply as possible. My favorite birth affirmations filled my mind and I calmed myself down, confident again.

About 5pm now, my husband's family returns from their outing and I was still in the tub... just as things totally pick up.

Within 20 minutes my contractions went from 10 minutes to 4 minutes apart and they lasted about 50-70 seconds long. It started becoming difficult to communicate through them, all my focus was on breathing and resting in between. I opened the drain of the tub and turned the faucet on as hot as it would go directly on my back as the pressure became more intense.

The boys came into the bathroom to see what was going on and my husband explained that the baby in mommy's belly is going to come out. L asks if it hurts. I say yes, but I am going to be okay once the baby comes out. They sat and watched for a little while, then went back to play with their cousins.

A powerful surge washed over me and I instantly felt nauseous, I knew what this was and what it meant -- I was in transition; the baby was definitely coming and SOON. (As I said before, this is why one should always decline cervical checks during labor, upon checking my cervix and feeling I had "not progressed" it threw off my whole mood when really I was only about 30 minutes from hitting transition)

I popped out of the tub and vomited into a bowl that my husband brought into the bathroom earlier. He was incredible. I cannot even explain to you how in sync he was to what I needed, without me even saying a word. Indescribably linked.

I stayed on the bathroom floor for maybe 2 contractions after hitting that transition and my instincts spoke to me again. I needed to be somewhere soft. Baby was coming and needed to be caught somewhere more suitable. I obliged and after my next moan through a surge I told my husband I needed help getting into bed.

Mind you, I had planned to have the baby in my bathroom. I had deep cleaned it, set up the space and supplies so everything was accessible in that room. Still in only a few minutes, my husband had all my towels layered on my bed & a bin of supplies on my dresser. Between surges I quickly crouched on my bed on all fours; what was comfortable at the time.

Literally the next surge was so intense and had more pressure behind it that my water broke into my hand. It was warm, I looked down to check it's color -- clear, almost tinged pink. No meconium, not that it is necessarily bad to have stained waters (it's really a non issue), but it was something I wanted to pay attention to, personally, being over 40 weeks.

My next 2 surges brought my body into FER (Fetal Ejection Reflex) and I was pulled into a more tripod stance, on my knees with my left hand supporting me and my right hand covering my vaginal opening, ready to catch.

I stopped being aware of what was going on around me, my eyes were probably open, but I wasn't seeing anything or processing anything other than the visualization of my baby's descent out of me and into this world.

Surge came and I felt the top of a head pop into my palm. I lightly smoothed my fingers over it, it was soft, warm, and I felt hair! So much hair. I say out loud; "I feel a head and it has hair!" My husband was behind me with his hands on my back, he says; 'I can see it! Almost here! Come on, boo!'

I'm in a lot of pain here, the "ring of fire" is in full force and my surges are at their most intense with maybe 10 seconds of break in between.

1st surge after crowning: I deep belly moan and FER pulls my body together. My hand now completely cups baby's head. My vaginal opening is b u r n i n g .

2nd surge after crowning: Deep in my belly once again I moan like a cow as my body pushes for me. My hand leaves baby's head as I feel it pass, then shoulders and in one fluid motion baby is out -- 5:40pm -- I lean behind it to get a look & assess.

I notice it is grey-purple in color, grimacing, and hands & legs were moving. Very good signs. Babe only had vernix in their hair and under their neck, but I think that's because babe was so far along gestationally, their fingernails were pretty long already too.

I pick baby up and open their legs to find I gave birth to yet another boy. "IT'S ANOTHER BOY!!!" I yelled. I hold him to my chest upright and rub his back to see if I could get him to cry, he had not yet, though I could see him grimacing and hear him clearing his airways to breathe. It kinda sounds like when we have congestion in our throats right after coughing.

After a small snort and cough, he lets out a nice, loud cry and I laid on my back completely soaking in the rush of endorphins exploding in my brain.

I did it! I grew my baby and delivered him... me and my husband... Just as he was made; he was born. In the bed that we still sleep in together.

L ran in shortly after hearing his brand new brother cry to come take a look at him. He tells his grandma that mommy's baby came out!

Baby A latched right away and I began to feel my stomach tightening again; it was time to deliver the placenta. I laid Baby A on the bed, squatted and pushed with the smallest amount of force and it came right out. I placed it in a bowl we had put aside and sat on a fresh towel to monitor my bleeding. I relatched Baby A and inspected my placenta (for science lmao) while I waited for Baby's cord to turn completely white and limp -- the ideal time to cut. It took probably a solid 20 minutes.

I sterilized a brand new pair of kitchen scissors (I literally bought them just to cut the cord) with rubbing alcohol and cut Baby A's cord, leaving about 2 inches still attached. I took a piece of thick sewing thread, dipped it in the rubbing alcohol and tied the cord as tight as I possibly could manage about 1.5-ish inches away from what would one day be his belly button.

There he was. Guided by the voice of his father, born into the hands of his mother, and immediately greeted by his older brothers; in the sanctity and safety of his own home. Just as he should have been.

Born 4/26/18

5:40pm

9lb 15oz, 21.5in

"the birth of you was nothing like the birth of me" ❤

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floralseokjin · 6 years ago

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PBN drabble | Yoongi finds out about the phone call, feat. Seokjin getting deep (never before scene from #6)

warnings; angst, but soft angst wordcount; 1.9k

“You really need to start locking your door.”

Yoongi jumps in his desk chair at the intrusive voice, turning around sharply to just spot Seokjin. He grumbles to himself, sliding his earphones to the back of his neck. “If it keeps you out, yeah.”

You always used to tell him that. He hates how something so small and insignificant can remind him of you. He swallows down his hurt, watching Seokjin take a seat across from him on his bed. “Well, too late now.” He shoots him an infuriating smirk.

“What do you want?” Yoongi snaps. He really just wants to be left alone. He’s barely even seen Jimin these past two weeks. There’s a reason he ignored Seokjin’s call an hour ago. He didn’t get the message though.

Seokjin eyes him disapprovingly, taking in his appearance. “When’s the last time you showered?”

How fucking dare he. “This morning.” Before then may have been three days ago, but that wasn’t the point.

Seokjin shrugs. “You look like shit.”

“Did you just come here to insult me, or?” He sighs loudly. Wasn’t a friend supposed to be a little more caring during times like these? “Because I’m really not in the mood.”

“Are you ever sick of being a miserable bastard?” Seokjin shoots back almost immediately. “No offence, but you sorta brought this all on yourself anyway.”

Yoongi sighs again, removing his headphones from around his neck to place on his desk. He stares at them, would burn a hole through them if he could. “You think I don’t know that?” He mutters. “What do you want me to do?” He turns back to Seokjin, a part of him genuinely looking for advice.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” the other replies matter of factly.

“I’m not.” Yoongi shakes his has, refusing to believe it, Seokjin just shoots him a look.

“That’s why I’m here.” He continues, ignoring Yoongi. “Namjoon called me, finally.” He really can’t help it, has to slip that in, scoffing bitterly. “That’s like what, the third phone call I’ve had since he moved away?”

No. Not happening. “I really don’t feel like having a conversation about him tonight.” He doesn’t feel like ever having a conversation about him. His name makes him feel nauseous enough.

“Will you ever?” Seokjin raises his eyebrows. “Tough, because we need to.”

Yoongi presses into the chair, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He looks for patterns. Like he has a death wish, he suddenly realised this must have been the view you had while he was fucking you countless times on your back. He wishes it had been just sex. How easy would that have been? But no, it had always been something more… He goes to speak, ignoring how hoarse his voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me they’re back together please just save it.”

“Are you stupid or just blind?” Seokjin’s rebuke has him lifting his head in shock. He’d already been the caring friend two weeks ago when Yoongi had called him in the middle of the night absolutely wrecked. He’d rushed around, eyes bloodshot from tiredness, hair askew, but he was there like a flash, telling Yoongi to explain everything slowly. Maybe he’d lost his patience by now. Yoongi didn’t mind, he was losing patience with himself too…

“Are you self aware at all?” His friend carries on, eyes wide. Yoongi stares ahead blankly. Yeah, he’s probably dumb, after all, for one moment in time he’d fooled himself into thinking you may actually want him… What a pathetic idiot he was.

“Like do you actually think after everything that’s happened she really wants him?”

Yoongi can’t help it, he’s shouting before he even realises. “She fucking slept with him!”

“I know she did.” Seokjin raises his own voice, but it’s far from shouting, just loud enough to get heard. He watches Yoongi take a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and when he opens his mouth again he’s speaking softly. “I know…” A deep breath of his own. “Yoongi… I know it hurts, but you need to let It go, stop thinking about it, or think about it rationally.”

He sounds like he’s begging, it’s nothing Yoongi hasn’t done himself. It doesn’t work. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” He sounds broken. He is broken.

Seokjin takes another look at Yoongi, eyes softening, much like his voice. “She wants you, man.” Yoongi freezes. “She wants to be with you, too.”

“She doesn’t.” He’s adamant. Seokjin knows nothing.

“She does,” his friend insists. “She told Namjoon.” He ignores the shake of Yoongi’s head, raising his voice so he can make sure he’s listening. “He called her, she told him she was over him and that she wanted you… You just… You couldn’t forgive her.”

What? Yoongi can’t believe his ears. Maybe deep down he knew you didn’t want Namjoon anymore, but he can’t believe that you want him. Not after everything. “Why couldn’t she tell me that when I asked her?” He’d practically begged you in the end, made an idiot out of himself, cried. It still seems so surreal.

“Would you have believed her?” Seokjin counters, head tilted. “Do you believe her now?”

It doesn’t matter. He closes his eyes for a second, your face seeping into his mind. Your face from that night. You’d been crying too, acting like you were heartbroken. Had that been the case? But then…why couldn’t you say the words he needed to hear that night? Why had you only realised after sleeping with Namjoon? He shakes his head. “It’s too late anyway.”

“Is it?” Seokjin pauses, letting him think it through. Seokjin knows him so well. The only one who knows how he truly felt all this time. He’s never judged him, hated him like he probably deserved. He’s always there when Yoongi needs him, even when he doesn’t know it himself.

“Think about it… It’s not too late if it’s just the start.”

Yoongi scoffs a laugh at that, rolling his eyes almost playfully. “Just because Namjoon’s not here anymore doesn’t mean you can start turning into him.” Seokjin frowns, confused. “I’ll be fine with just Hobi. Stop being so cryptic.”

He finally gets it, smiling lopsidedly as he shakes his head slowly. “You start again. You and her.” Yoongi can’t help but like the sound of that. It’s all he wants deep down. To start afresh. To start properly. “You talk, see what you both want and try.”

“She could’ve just told me that herself.” Yoongi’s fighting with himself, trying to make excuses. “That she wants me. Why can’t she tell me?”

“She thinks you don’t ever want to see her again.” Seokjin stares at him. “We both know that isn’t true.”

More silence. Yoongi wonders how he got into this mess. At first all his wildest dreams had come true, but if he’s being honest with himself he always knew it would come to this. He’d just buried his head into the sand until it was too late.

“I’m frightened,” he finally admits, voice sounding weird. Seokjin just waits patiently. “I have this shitty feeling in my chest, hope? It’s all warm and fuzzy. I hate it.” He tugs at his shirt to emphasise.

“Most normal people would love it,” Seokjin laughs.

“I don’t want to jinx it. I don’t want to get hurt again.” It feels scary to admit such a thing. He can’t help but want to protect his heart from more pain again.

“You hurt yourself,” Seokjin murmurs, “and her.”

“I know.” That much is true. He’s to blame just as much as you are. Maybe even a little more. You were the one who had been vulnerable, upset, heartbroken, and he’d only made it worse. He’d messed with your heart even more.

“And she hurt you and herself.” Seokjin continues. “Don’t you think you both owe it to one another to just try?” It all sounds so simple. “If it doesn’t work out at least you can say you tried.”

Yoongi stares at his best friend, feeling warmth flood his chest. He’s not cold anymore. He’s been cold for days, weeks. He doesn’t deserve such a friend. Caught in the middle for so long, Seokjin’s own problems probably going ignored too, because Yoongi was so wrapped up in his own head. Seokjin’s been there for him since day one, and he’ll hopefully get to return the favour one day.

“I don’t like it when you’re serious.” Yoongi chuckles awkwardly.

“I don’t like it when I’m serious!” Seokjin exclaims dramatically, which only makes them laugh loudly. It feels good to laugh. Yoongi can’t remember the last time he did.

“Where’s your shadow?” He asks once it dies out.

Seokjin cocks his head. “Which one? Hobi?”

Yoongi shakes his head, grinning. It’s true Seokjin has two shadows. The ones he’s in love with, and the other who probably enjoys being a third wheel more than he lets on. The smile stays on his face as he asks a question he already knows the answer to. “How did you and Dana fall in love again?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, tops of his cheeks growing red with the sudden attention. He’s always like this, great at giving advice, helping out his friends, but when it comes to himself, he’s silent. You had to try really hard to get inside his head. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s there a hundred percent yet, but 99.9% of the way will surely do. He’s his third shadow, admiring him from afar, showing his gratitude through moments like these.

“I reminded her that there’s good guys in this world—one good guy,” Seokjin smiles bashfully.

“Similar to me?” Yoongi prods, sounding hopeful.

“Kinda,” his friend shrugs, laughing. “I mean, I waited until she was over her ex before I made a move.” Fair enough. “Also made sure she was in to me, y’know, just to avoid overall confusion and heartache.”

“Yeah, I messed up.” Yoongi can admit that now. Seokjin had warned him and warned him ever since he’d found out, but he hadn’t listened. He probably should have, but then, would he be here now? There’s still hope in his chest. He’s trying to make the best of it. “I just couldn’t help myself…”

“I know,” Seokjin nods. It almost comforts him.

“I just want to be in love too, Jin.” There. The scariest of confessions. But it’s not over yet. “With her.” He wants to be happy, but he can’t see it without you. “It’s always been her.”

“It can still be her,” Seokjin murmurs. “Fate works in mysterious ways.”

“Chance,” he corrects. Everything had been chance. Ever since that night at the convenience store. He’d taken a chance that night, and now…

“Should I take a chance?” He asks his best friend.

“That’s your call.” Not a yes or a no. It’s down to him now. “Just think about it and be 100% certain. It’s never going to get more simple than it is right now.”

Seokjin’s last bit of advice. He’s helped Yoongi so much these past few years, and one thing’s for sure, Yoongi could never thank him enough. He owed it to him to make the correct decision.

#this is probably my fave one TT #i couldn't help but get soft over seokjin at the very end #just wanted to show how much of amazing friend he is......#an amazing*#the next one is the last one :((((((#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:pbn #pbn:drabbles

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dyinglightroleplay · 5 years ago

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𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

NAME : Alice Longbottom RELATIONSHIP TO THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX : Founding Member ( active - duty ) AGE / BIRTHDATE : 39 Years Old / January 10, 1940 7:51PM ZODIAC SIGN : Capricorn ( sun ), Aquarius ( moon ) + Leo ( rising ) EDUCATION : Hogwarts Graduate ( Slytherin House ) BLOOD STATUS : Pureblood

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

✧ Lily Evans ( platonic ) ✧ Gideon Prewett ( antagonistic ) ✧ Remus Lupin ( player’s choice ) ✧ Frank Longbottom ( husband + partner )

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍.

In Hogsmeade, assisting the ongoing evacuation following the Battle of Hogwarts. She is not operating in a professional capacity.

CHARACTER NOTES : Alice is currently maintaining full - time employment in the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, alongside her husband, Frank.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍.

PLAYER : Jinx FACECLAIM : Amanda Seyfried URL : @legatvm

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH OF A SIBLING, DEATH OF A PARENT, MENTAL ILLNESS, MENTIONS OF GENDER DYSPHORIA

ZERO / RISING. * HOW IS YOUR CHARACTER PERCEIVED BY OTHERS? WHAT MASK DO THEY WEAR, AND IS THERE MORE THAN ONE?

Alice the revolutionary, Alice the girl, Alice the Auror. She wears them differently and wears them well. Perhaps it’s Alice the Auror that is the most duplicitous but she excuses it because it’s for the greater good and Alice would do just about anything for the Greater Good. Alice the martyr, maybe sometimes appropriate, though she resents it.

It’s not that Alice went into being an Auror thinking she would have to do all this lying, it’s that she went into it wanting to make the world a better place. Sacrificing the integrity of her job was a necessary sacrifice, she felt, when it was for the Order. Being an Auror had always been the dream since she was young, she wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps. But when the Ministry refused to do anything that Alice thought was appropriate to help the increasingly tense political climate, she did what had to be done.

But it wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough.

Leo is the fifth sign of the zodiac and rules the back, the spine, and the heart. Positive traits include CREATIVITY, CHARISMA, GENEROSITY, WARMTH, ENTHUSIASM, A NATURAL TALENT FOR LEADERSHIP, AND A GREAT DEAL OF INNER POWER; negative traits are haughtiness, snobbery, an expectation that one is the centre of attention and should be waited on by everyone else, PROFLIGACY, lack of realism, dominance that can lead to bullying, and A REFUSAL TO CHANGE ONE’S MIND EVEN IN THE FACE OF SOLID FACTS.

Slytherin Leos can be either very good, or very bad. At their best, they exemplify all that “nobility” is made of: confidence, openness, charm, initiative, generosity of spirit, wisdom, judgment, and poise. At their worst, they become elitist, bullying bigots. How they end up depends on the company they keep, and how they are encouraged to act early in life. Either way, they never lack attention - it’s hard to ignore a Slytherin born under this sign. These Slytherins usually end up in positions of responsibility and leadership, because of their charisma and natural ability. Their creativity and drive also makes them very resourceful.

Leo as a rising sign is perfect for Alice, because what she displays and shows people is vast while also being warm. Not only does the name Alice mean ‘noble’ but it lends to her being charming, friendly, enthusiastic, confident – she shows such openness, it almost feels impossible not to trust her. It also works because had Alice grown up around bigots, around a father who trained her to be a weapon & not to help people, a mother who didn’t instill altruistic beliefs into her – she would’ve easily fallen into being on the bad side of being a Leo.

Alice is open-minded person, something she’s been since she was younger, something she will never grow out of. She believes the impossible as much as the possible, she believes in it and because she’s not rigid or thinks she knows EVERYTHING, she’s often got an edge during dueling when it comes to figuring out her opponent’s strategies. It adds to her being resourceful. Alice isn’t always the most creative in a traditional sense – her being a fantastic dueler and was able to navigate herself in Slytherin house was due the fact that not only is she cunning, but is also so resourceful. She’s able to see other people’s side of things while having the ability to manipulate people’s perception of her to work in her favor. She knows how she’s seen, she uses it to her advantage, often taking mental ( and physical ) notes of the people around her.

Alice sees the world so openly and vast, she thinks, why not? Facts are only facts because they haven’t yet been proven otherwise, and Alice believes it only takes a little bit of doubt to undermine a fact – something easy to do. I bolded ‘profligacy’ because Alice has grown up never having to worry about money, and is the type to spend it on people she loves, buy them thing after thing, anything they need. Alice always has the latest record and few extra to give away to friends, she’s there to cover your bus fair or even a train ticket if needed. She comes off mothering and maternal, especially as she gets older, she wants to take care of anyone who needs to be taken care of and give back in any way she can – which is where the dominance can come in. Sometimes overbearing, when Alice believes something is best for someone, it’s hard for her to change her mind about it – this oftentimes comes off as extremely controlling even though she means well. She’s the type of person to check up on you if you even mention that you’re having a slightly off week, and ask if there’s anything she can do to make it better. This is definitely due to her generous and hospitable nature, but it is excessive and always has been – not something she would ever change as long as she lived.

ONE / THE SUN. * CHOOSE ONE TO EXPLORE : WHAT ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY, GENERAL PREFERENCES, SENSE OF SELF / EGO, OR FUNDAMENTAL TRAITS ATTRACTED YOU TO THEM?

Capricorn is the tenth sign of the zodiac and governs the bones, joints, and knees. Positive traits include PRAGMATISM, MATURITY, PATIENCE, DETERMINATION, AWARENESS, A STRONG WORK ETHIC, realism, DISCIPLINE, money management, THE WILLINGNESS TO OVERCOME HARD LUCK, LEADERSHIP, INITIATIVE, OPPORTUNISM, prudence, and CUNNING. Negative traits include pessimism, MELANCHOLY, EMOTIONAL COLDNESS, MANIPULATION, OBSESSION WITH WORK AND AMBITIONS TO THE DETRIMENT OF PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT, REMOTENESS, and materialistic snobbery.

The traits emphasized here will be ambition, determination, discipline, and pragmatism. You can’t make that castle in the sky if you don’t build a solid foundation under it, and Capricorns excel at building foundations. (Actually, they excel at planning the foundations and directing others to do the grunt labour. It’s not that they’re afraid to get their hands dirty, but large work usually requires delegation and a staff, and Capricorns are managers more often than not.) While not flamboyant or showy about it, Capricorns still tend to be obsessive overachievers, a common trait in House Slytherin. Too, wizards born under the sign of Capricorn are good at being discreet, secretive, and diplomatic; whereas the Libra’s diplomacy is based on charm and a desire for harmony, THE CAPRICORN’S DIPLOMACY IS BASED ON THE KNOWLEDGE THAT BEING ON GOOD TERMS WITH PEOPLE IS EXTREMELY USEFUL IN GETTING ONE’S WAY OR FINDING OUT SENSITIVE INFORMATION. These also are traits commonly associated with House Slytherin. They might not be sexy traits, but they’re very handy.

The biggest trait about Alice that drives me to her is the way she deals with people, the way she knows how to read them and understand them. How she’s able to manipulate those around her, as both a negative and positive trait. Like the description says, Alice knows it’s better to be on good terms with people because it’s useful in many respects as opposed to her wanting to be on good terms because of personal feel-good reasons.

Alice craves power over situations she can control and even more so over those she can’t, it’s a weakness but it’s also a driving force that propels her to push. There’s an obsessive side to Alice’s personality that only gets more pronounced with age, though she tries to contain it, it comes out in the things she does. Whether it’s being extra thorough at work or being particularly persnickety over her own dueling technique ( or the other Order members who are learning proper dueling technique from Alice because she’ll be damned if they don’t learn some while she’s partly in charge ), Alice is always obsessing over something.

While Alice can come off as all warmth and sunshine, the part of her that is more often than not what comes out when push comes to shove is that pragmatic leader. She knows what needs to be done to keep the Order going and does it, even at the detriment of her own personal health & needs. To her own morality and ethics at times, as well. Alice is the first to suggest something that is not typically done or the proper protocol. Though, for the Greater Good, or what she believes is the Greater Good, Alice is always willing to bend the rules for.

Her need to protect The Vision™, her vision, of what the future could be for the generations after them, is steadfast. She wants so badly to make the world better than it is, to fight for the future and the generations before her, to make it a better place, that she can be one track minded and have complete tunnel vision. Alice wants the power because she believes she could wield it the right way, she’s ambitious because as much as she’s been told no, she’s been told ‘yes’ and doesn’t know when to stop.

This doesn’t negate the fact that Alice has indeed built a beautiful life for herself in the midst of a war, she’s got a husband who she loves, a career, she’s a founding member of the Order, she still has her uncle Florean and Fortescue’s. Her foundation has cracks in it, like the loss of her father, her mother being emotionally absent after the stillborn birth of her brother, but they’ve been filled with new life experiences and a lot of love all around. Alice has worked to make her life what she wants it to be and though her mind betrays her to make her feel like she needs more, to do more, to be more, she’s got plenty in her life to be proud of.

But still, it never felt like enough.

TWO / THE MOON. * WHICH COLOR WOULD YOU ASSOCIATE MOST STRONGLY WITH THEM AND THE EMOTIONS THAT DOMINATE THEM? DESCRIBE HOWEVER YOU’D LIKE.

Green. Your second favorite color to dye her hair during spring. Your favorite color since you were 13 years old and decided that bubblegum pink was cute, but green was a classic. The color of your mother’s overgrowing garden that she still tends to when you go to visit her. A greenhouse, engulfed in green, though other colors illuminate the space it’s lush greenery you see. Rebirth, for every time you decide to try a new hairstyle or get a new tattoo.

Anger and Love. Anger feeds into love, love feeds into anger. Anger for when a case goes unsolved and she’s told to just drop it ( she never does ). Anger for when another person dies on Alice’s watch, another family suffers because Alice couldn’t do enough to dispell their worries. Anger is Alice throwing a hex too hard during a practice, running too much til she’s past being out of breath, dueling til the wand varnish comes off the blisters start to accumulate.

Love for the people around her. For the young Order members who have so bravely given themselves to the cause, for her husband, for her uncle and his shop, a gleaming place of sanctuary in this war. Love, imagining what the world could be without a war, Alice ready to rebuild and grow after it, if she makes it through. Love for a world ravaged by the political climate, love when you have reasons to be angry.

THREE / MERCURY. * WHAT IS THIS CHARACTER’S AREA OF EXPERTISE? WHERE DO THEY EXCEL?

Some children are put in ballet, some in tap, but Alice had dueling lessons. At least, she did what she could do without a proper wand. Her father taught her good form, different dueling techniques, strategies, everything you could know about what Alice considers a sport, she learned. The history, the customs, those of other cultures, she learned. Being Dueling Club captain for her house was an honor and an accomplishment while she was in school, something Alice feels extremely proud of even to this day. Though as an Auror she never wants it to escalate to having to get into a Duel with someone she’s pursuing, it can be exhilarating dueling at that caliber.

#alice longbottom #marauders era rp #harry potter roleplay #hp rp #marauders rp #taken #sibling death tw #parental death tw #dysphoria tw #mental illness tw

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unimpressedperson · 6 years ago

Text

Jackpot | pt. I

(Found this picture in @youthstuffs , thank you for posting it)

Genre: Fluff and Crack, I guess...

Warnings: Mentions of lap dance, boner and ejaculation (it’s not smutty, tho)

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x @taesbetch , Kim Namjoon x Reader

Word Counting: 7.6k

Synopsis: Nya spent her whole life in Las Vegas, she would never imagine that local knowledge would ever be useful. However, her vision changed when Kim Seokjin appeared and introduced her to a few friends, film producers, whose needed guidance through Las Vegas underrated places for a movie. She agreed in working for them, and in that moment none of their lives would ever be the same. What happens in Vegas, not always has to be kept in Vegas.

A/N: Heeeeeeeey Nya!! Here is the first part of your one shot (now two shots? Lol), well. First thing first, it’s not a proper romantic chapter, since I used it more for entertainment and slyly making the characters bond, not explicitly making them stay together. It was fun to write and create every place I described (none of them actually exists in Las Vegas, I mean there is something similar to Eleganza & Extravaganza, but in Brazil). I made a bunch of references to RuPaul’s Drag Race, and some from movies (The Hangover, Showgirls, Agent 83, 21, etc). Hopefully you’ll enjoy it, I swear the second part if fluffier and way more what’s expected from an one shot. Forgive any grammatical mistakes. Good reading xX

- x - x - x - x -

The air smelled like whiskey and freshly cleaned wood. The slots were noisy and people yelled at them. The red walls and black carpet covered by footprints. Behind a long and wide curtain, a whole bunch of casino tables were in use. Blackjack making the dollar bills fly from hand to hand, trading them for casino chips. Money was lost and gained. People got in hopeful, chances mostly playing against their odds, but still willing to try and gain a fortune.

— Not everyone is Rain Main, though. - Namjoon said whilst looking through the tables, accompanied by his fellows Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok.

— Totally, why are we here anyways? We don’t gamble. You always told me not to play with lucky. - Jungkook held tight on his leather jacket sleeves.

— Do you know how to count cards? It’s illegal. If you get arrested I’ll show up only to mock you in jail. - Yoongi said, but decided to chill and buy a drink, tapping on his back pocket, looking for his wallet, not feeling it. - Shit, I think I lost my wallet with my cards, ID and money.

— You dropped it on the elevator’s floor. - Hoseok threw the wallet in Yoongi’s direction and grinned. - You took an eternity to notice.

— Why did I even brought you guys? Everyone is behaving like underage virgins trying to get in a strip club with an illegal ID. - Namjoon rolled his eyes and stopped, turning around on his calves. - Pull yourselves together, we are here ‘cuz Seokjin told me there’s someone willing to guide us through Las Vegas. It’s a woman and she works here.

— I miss Jin-hyung. He never denied a drink to his pals. - Hoseok said pouting, then getting back to his grinning self. - Is she that clever? Like, we travelled from England to Las Vegas short-noticed, she must be an ace, human map.

— You trust me, I trust Kim Seokjin and he trusts Nya. - Namjoon said and kept walking, looking for the indicated woman. According to her profile picture on Whatsapp, she had a curly brown hair, big dark eyes, with delicate yet strong facial traits. He checked the time on his cellphone, 7 p.m, Nya should finish her shift in one hour, but checking twice never harms.

- x - x - x - x -

Nya was feeling hot with her uniform. Not hot as sexy, but hot in the sense of igniting. Her white long-sleeved shirt was buttoned up, the vest warming everything even more. Not mentioning the constant stinging on her legs, caused by hours standing still distributing cards and, occasionally, trading money for chips. Still irritated, she focused on something else, specifically four koreans lads, dressed in casual clothings and staring around, as if they were looking for someone, Nya knew whom, but couldn’t yell or wave to call, since her manager wouldn’t approve such behavior.

A few months before she met with another korean guy, Kim Seokjin, with his broad shoulders covered by expensive suits, impeccable black hair and sharp tongue. Nya liked to chat with him, and shortly after found out he was looking for a guide to shown places in Las Vegas, affording to pay for the service. Everyone around were trying to get money through gambling, but the lucky one didn’t even touch a slot. Jade earned over US$1 thousand grands for her service.

Not long after, Seokjin contacted again claiming that he had indicated her work for a few friends. Acknowledging how rich he was, then a group of friends could pay even more. Whilst listening to the man explaining who the clients were, Nya was mentally chanting to ‘Billionaire’ by Bruno Mars.

The man sent a contact named ‘Kim Namjoon’. Nya and the new customer discussed additional informations, such as location and time to meet. Of course she knew he could show up earlier to check. Every sane one would confirm.

However, taking an attentive look at Seokjin’s friends, no one impressed her much. They were beautiful, specifically the taller one with lilac hair, Kim Namjoon himself, but also seemed to be a group of penny-pinchers. Great, there goes her ‘Billionaire’ dreams, landing straight on ‘Thrift Shop’ by Macklemore.

Once Namjoon finally detected Nya, he pulled his group of friends in the table’s direction, seating on a vague chair and staring at her, talking politely to the other players: an old lady wearing a thick fur-coat, black hair in a high ponytail and a white man with brown curly hair and using a Gucci sweater.

— Is that a lucky table? My friends here insist in saying I’m a jinx. - Namjoon asked and smiled, making the old lady blush and Nya side grinning.

Hoseok decided to take Yoongi and Jungkook to the bar, leaving the lilac haired man there, but promising to bring him a drink. Namjoon didn’t seem to care, trying to find a subtle way to ask Nya when her shift ends. He wasn’t aware if everyone knew about the side job as a guide.

— Oh, one of my fellows stopped by a few hours ago and played on that same table. When will your shift end? Isn’t that overworking? - Namjoon “casually” questioned. trying his best to sound chill and not psycho.

— Do you want another card, miss? - Nya asked and pulled one ‘red queen’ from the deck of cards, watching how the lady huffed in frustration. - Yes, today I worked literally for two. I’m covering a friend of mine. Thank you for your concern, but my shift ends in… Fifteen minutes.

— Oh, I worked in a bar once. It’s tiring. You should receive extra; - The man with curly brown hair said and asked for another card, completing a Blackjack and hissing in happiness.

Namjoon grinned flashing one dimple, looking at his wallet and casually announcing that he would buy a ‘lucky charm’ (a green drink, actually) before playing and stood up, giving a tip to Nya. Between the bills there was a paper saying he would wait for her at the bar.

Particularly, Namjoon felt stupid about being so secretive, the same did Nya. Behaving like they were trafficking drugs or selling a kidney for the Black Market. However, it also added to the experience of exploring Las Vegas, a Mission Impossible sort of situation.

Oh, Namjoon wished to be wearing a suit to feel like Agent 83, pondering the idea of looking for a phonecase shaped as a shoe.

- x - x - x - x -

— So, what are your names again? - Nya asked walking off the casino door, being followed by the four men. She was now wearing a black skinny jeans, plain white t-shirt and carrying her jacket on one of the arms.

— Kim Namjoon. I’m the one who contacted you. - The tall man with lilac soft hair said, a deep voice matching his very well distributed body form. Nya found him interesting and smart.

— Min Yoongi. - The tiniest one with black hair and round glasses said, whilst checking something on his phone. He seemed a little intimidating, but in certain angles his cheeks became chubby, giving a much cuter air. What a duality.

— Jung Hoseok, but call me Hobi. - The one with blonde wavy hair pronounced, smiling and flashing his small dimples around the mouth. A cheerful aura seemed to surround him, maybe it was all the neon lights coming from every casino and hotel.

— My name is Jeon Seagull. - Jungkook said and watched Nya’s expression switch from playful and calm to confused.

— What? Is that serious? - She asked furrowing her eyebrows.

Everyone laughed loudly, confusing her even more. She never felt comfortable not understanding inside jokes from friends, the brown haired woman felt slightly left out from the conversation.

— No, I’m just kidding. My name is Jeon Jungkook. - He said and shook her hand, smiling and shortly after continuing. - Do you want to know the story behind the whole Jeon Seagull thing?

Before she could answer, Jungkook began telling his story. Apparently the boy with cherry coloured hair used to be an idol in Korea, in a boy group from 15 to 21. When he decided to quit singing dumb songs about girls and conquer his dreams.

— When I chose to become part of that group, the managers decided that Jungkook wasn’t a good name, so based on where I was born they decided to call me Jeon Seagull, supposedly appealing even to fans from outside Korea. - Jungkook said and wagged his hand around. - Well, after years I quitted, graduated in cinema and went to England, where I met these douchebags.

— Is there anyone hungry or just me? I know a place with good and cheap food. - Nya said and glanced in Namjoon’s direction. - It's also very private, so we can discuss my commission and, once again, clarify your intentions, places to visit and contacts needed. Even a girl with good friends requires some checking before confirming.

Hoseok felt his stomach complaining. The peanuts eaten whilst waiting for Nya didn't trick his greedy and quick metabolism. Also, Yoongi was sick worried about some account numbers from the previous project, trying his best to fix finances before engaging in international business, but food and a good cup of coffee would help him think rationally. The men agreed and watched the woman waving her left hand to stop a cab.

- x - x - x - x -

Nya took the group to a small diner. They sat down and ordered some coffee and bagels with cream cheese, as an entrance. ‘The Devito’ had a lot resemblances with Pop's from Riverdale, which itself reminded any 50s diner. Red couches instead of chairs, white tables, everything decorated with vintage chachki and posters. The ambient music (Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi) provided by a wooden jukebox. The waiters and waitress all dressed in white pants, cream and red plaid shirts, rolling around in expensive looking skates (Namjoon was surprised, claiming he could barely stand still in hard ground. Yoongi confirmed telling that the first time they met, they almost managed to get killed by a bus in London, after the taller one tripped on his feet and nudged him).

Whilst eating bagels and chatting about impersonal topics, Namjoon took a sip from his coffee and began the business talk.

— So, Nya. What's your price? - Namjoon asked not looking straight at the woman’s eyes, trying to see what Yoongi was doing on his phone.

— Hm, it depends. - Nya said, brushing off the conversation with Jungkook about Transformers being sorted in Hogwarts houses (Optimus Prime is totally a Ravenclaw, Bumblebee despite of his colours is a total Gryffindor). - See, Seokjin paid me US$1k because he is rich and cocky, but I accept less. Also, I take in count how dangerous wherever you want to visit is. I ain't gonna risk my neck for a few dimes. Also, if I understood it right, then we’ll be together from now til morning, did I get it? Maybe a bit of the afternoon, but since I worked two shifts today, conquered the right for a day off.

— Fair and right. - Yoongi said and popped his tongue, putting his phone down and digging in relief. - See, we can pay US$600 for your job, maximum. You are not going to take us in dangerous places, mainly because we are tracking and trying to rent establishments for filming. I personally don't think it's secure to break in a crack house, aimed with expensive professional cameras, and other cinematic knick knack. At least not with an indie production budget.

— Oh, I get it, but you still didn't clarify what kind of places we are going. - Nya looked at Yoongi, but shortly after glanced in Namjoon's direction again. - Where do you want to go tonight, sir?

— Our new project is rather bold, and sassy, and if you want to use the right vocabulary, then it's also fierce. - Namjoon said smiling, not a large full of teeth kind of smile, but a proud and dimpley one. - We want to attend Drag Queen clubs, stripclubs, bars, cheap hotels and stores, specifically department stores and somewhere to buy wigs.

The woman tried to imagine their upcoming movie, with drag queens, strippers, cheap clothings, alcohol and possibly a whole load of LGBT representation. Yeah, Namjoon made the right choice, Las Vegas had everything they needed for under loan prices. She herself knew people who could snatch someone's face to star in a movie. Differently from Seokjin (who paid for attending comedy shows, expensive hotels, top knot restaurants, he also wanted to meet famous people, and Elvis matchmaker. His movie was cliche, a common romcom), Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jungkook wanted to go further, know the veins and core of Vegas. Entertainment in it's raw and most interesting form. Nya was excited.

— This sounds so amazing. It seems like a match between Priscilla and Showgirls. - Nya spoke wistfully and with a lightweight looking face. - What's the movie about?

— Well. First thing first, our last project wasn't very acclaimed and complimented by critics. They said the movie was predictable, quality so low compared to previous releases. Deception, that vastly said word really bugged us. - Hoseok took the word and began talking, tapping his long and skinny finger on the cold table material. - After a few weeks thinking and searching, me and our main writer, Taehyung, decided to dive in LGBT culture. Months of writing and studying brought us the golden idea.

“A famous drag queen in Vegas, confident and talented. She spent her life dancing and lip syncing for money bills during night, whilst writing for a local newspaper on the astrology column during day. One night, though, during a show she meets with a drag king. - Hoseok took a sip from his coffee and continued. - That night changed everything, Moonchild, as we named the character, learns what love is and how narrow minded LGBT community itself is, cuz between drinks and night outs with Jimmy Humble, she finds out he is actually a transman. They also meet a girl working on the same restaurant as Jimmy, and she is a stripper dealing with some problems related to genetics. The story is very angst, fluff, defying… Fierce.”

— I already know where to take you. - She pronounced and drank the last bit of coffee. - Also, I won't charge the guidance with a simple condition: you guys will employe and give screen time to a few people I'm going to introduce. Genius artists with a career slamming on their backs, but poor chances of starring something without incentive and purpose.

Namjoon and Yoongi glazed down at her with a weird expression. No grand service comes for free. Was Nya being serious? Guiding a bunch of foreigners through Las Vegas streets charging not even a dollar? They stared at each other, having a silent talk, the kind of talk only people really close can have.

— Ok, so you don't want the US$600? You are willing to drag us around for free, only with a guarantee that we are hiring a few friends of yours? - Yoongi asked, raising one eyebrow, suspicious, almost suspecting on her kindness.

— Yeah, you got it. - She confirmed and put both hands together on her own lap. - You pay my friends and I give you informations obtained after years wandering around Las Vegas.

— Geez woman, if Seokjin mentioned you were Jesus Christ level of humble, then I'd have brought something for you to bless, or I don't know, a leprous to cure. - Jungkook told between chuckles. - You are a saint.

— Don't exaggerate, Kook. - The lilac-haired man slapped lightly the younger's hand. - But in fact, it's very humble of you. Although, we will still pay for cab and every meal or drink you have. We are not Scrudges after all. Except for Yoongi, he has a scorpion in his wallet poisoning whoever tries to spend more than the affordable.

They ordered dinner (burgers with cheddar and barbecue sauce). Hoseok stood up and had a toast in Nya's name.

- x - x - x - x -

After having a great dinner, and Namjoon paying for her, Nya decided to begin the night by heading to a bar. Mainly because it was near and they could get there in five minutes. Also, she knew who owned it, even though nothing glamorous would be seem, the place could be weirdly welcoming with cheap drinks, bitter beer and mostly mushy peanuts.

The establishment was small. Diego, an immigrant from Mexico, opened his pub in 1991 and struggled to keep it alive, until a horde of hipster decided to use his place as a meeting place, boosting his cashier.

Rustic but endearing. Namjoon felt amazed by how both adjectives coexisted perfectly. Las Vegas had so many bright neon lights and huge bars with overpriced HORRIBLE drinks, yet Nya managed to find somewhere small and cozy. Even though Yoongi complained about how weird the peanuts and pistachios tasted, they agreed on considering it to rent as a location to film, discussing how to fit flawlessly with the script.

The walls were light green full of colorful images from beautiful latina women, contrasting with the plain black floor. Small brown tables with two plastic chairs each. The drinks served weren't diversified, basic and some of them traditionally from Mexico. Kim Namjoon paid a round of tequila for everyone and turned his shot in a gulp.

The lilac haired man was paying attention to Nya, who chatted animated with the owner, a tanned man with a shaved face and big cheeks, bald and skinny, beside his preeminent belly, result of years drinking doses and doses of beer. They seemed like family, catching up on how Cousin Shirley is no longer working for him, because she moved to New York binging graduate college there. Also, Namjoon overheard something about a relative dead after trying to cross the border between USA and Mexico.

Sad. Nya’s expression turned from lightweight and joyful to sorrow. Apparently she knew the dead man and couldn't attend his funeral. Namjoon took another shot of tequila and tried to focus on Yoongi and Hoseok fitting the bar into a scene, apparently there was a moment where Jimmy Humble tries to mingle among cisgender people in a bar, but the result is saddening.

Jungkook was a clever guy, genius filming and editing, but very naive on daily basis. Whilst chatting with the bartender he decided to play arm-wrestling, even though the lady clearly had the task of carrying gallons filled with beer, so she was strong, toned and tanned arms, wide shoulders and a pin-up tattooed on her biceps, the face delicate, like a sunflower surrounded by black curls instead of petals. Beautiful, a very beautiful young lady, whose beat Jungkook three times in a row.

The guide in charge dried a small tear and glanced at the lilac haired man. He was quiet and observant, whilst his friends were mingling and socializing (or like Yoongi, just chatting with someone here and there), Kim Namjoon observed and drank from a huge mug of beer, such as soaking his brain in new visual information, reading the place and absorbing its story and culture. Nya liked that about him, even meeting him for a few hours now, she could tell Namjoon's soul had been around for ages. Hoseok and everyone else were smart, but the tall guy was wise.

— Why did you choose to become a movie director? - Nya sat beside Namjoon and queried, shortly after took a sip on her own beer (“Here mi hija, a treat from Tio Diego. Give your silent friend one too”).

— I don't know. - Namjoon replied, mind still wandering around the bar, asking himself if Tio Diego actually met all the ladies framed around in pictures. - I actually started working with audio, producing music and stuff, but after a couple years only dealing with sounds bored me. I was happy, but not joyful. So I decided to change a little and start a job with movie soundtracks. Not long after and directing became an interest. So I joined college to study cinema. Now I’m the Captain Kirk of my Enterprise, controlling the british indie cinematography market, and all with my oldest friend Spock, as known as Min Yoongi.

— Interesting. Deeply interesting. - Nya cooed and soaked her throat with a long sip of beer. - Have you never considered the idea of working for big studios? Like, Paramount?

Before properly answering, Namjoon chuckled and took his phone from one of the pockets, unlocking it and looking for something on internet. He passed the mobile to Nya’s hand. Shining under her sight was a movie poster of a man dressed like a doctor, butterflies flying around him.

— Butterfly Voices. - They said in sync, however Kim continued speaking in a slow pace. - Three years ago I tried to get in the selective environment of mainstream cinema. I spent years working on a script worth of Hollywood. My great chance appeared, I held it with teeth and claws. The budget wasn't great, mainly because most people weren't aware of me. After the release, tabloids spread false informations about how much the film cost, also whenever you hit a great public in theaters and become a so called ‘popular director’, critics seems to get dumber. Their criticisms about Butterfly Voices weren't serious, only mean comments on nonexistent things. After understanding how poisonous fame is, I decided to go focus again in producing my independent movies. It's less tiring and weary.

— Oh my god. Is that the movie about the doctor who married another doctor, and after his wife passed away her spirit became a kind of guide, helping him to make decisions and ace surgeries? - Nya questioned and Namjoon nodded quietly. - I cried like a baby when her soul began fading after a psychiatrist friend gave him pills to schizophrenia, and he realised his wife's image was nothing but a trick from his widowed mind. You are a good director.

— Thank you. It's a pity Rotten Tomatoes critics didn't have the same thought. They classified Butterfly Voices as frustrating and merciless, on the edge of a low budget Sixth Sense. - The lilac-haired was feeling comfortable around Nya, maybe the alcohol began kicking, or maybe she was actually chill and trustworthy. - I never really talked about my experience with mainstream cinema. Everyone always looks up on my finances, criticizing and judging how much less money I gain from producing indie movies, of course comparing with what I got paid in Hollywood. I don't care about it. My mental health is a priority, and dealing with popularity amongst tabloids made me have anxiety attacks.

— Yeah. Michael Jackson tried to advise us. Only the fools ignored the King of Pop. - Nya slipped one hand and touched lightly Namjoon's pinky, blushing and watching him smirk with her side vision.

They stayed there, touching pinkies and nonspeaking for over ten minutes, until Jungkook came closer and asked when they were heading to another place. In Namjoon's opinion the young cherry-haired lad got tired of losing to Tania in arm wrestling, even though he would never admit it.

— Where are you taking us now, Nya? - Yoongi turned to look at her with smiley eyes, matching his gummy grin.

— Let me see… What about a bar RuPaul's Drag Race themed? - She scratched her own chin, as if expressing doubt. - Then a strip club where I know a few girls.

— It's a yes from me. - Hoseok yelled from one of the corners.

- x - x - x - x -

— Glamour. EXTRAVAGANZA. Fierce. Bang! Bang! Bang! Yaaaaas kweeeeeen! - Hoseok got in ‘Drag mode’ as soon as they arrived, making the use of every LGBT slang he knew.

— Hobi, I'm telling you this as a friend, don't overuse your drag vocabulary. - Namjoon said putting one hand on his shoulder. - I don't want to be kicked out a place cuz my friend is borderline offensive when gets excited.

— Don't you throw shade at me, henny. - Hobi replied and poked out his tongue.

— You really made a deep research before writing the script, didn't you? - Nya raised an eyebrow in Hoseok’s direction.

— Absolutely. - Hoseok answered mimicking Gia Gunn [a Drag Race competitor from season 6].

Despite the long waiting line, Nya's contact allowed them to get in before everyone else. The group entered and took a sit on one table decorated with glitter and a menu where foods and drinks were named after RuPaul’s Drag Race queens. Ambient itself was pure glam, with pink walls ornate tiles and frames of quotes, queens, RuPaul herself, etc. On a huge TV screen was airing an old episode of RPDR. Waitress were all in drag, most of them looking like Trixie Mattel, but with slightly less makeup.

— Hm, I'll have the same as always, Peeps. A ‘Naomi Smalls’ with extra ice. - Nya pronounced after asking how the waitress in front of them was doing lately. - What do you guys will want?

— I don't know, this Monique Heart seems amazing, but I'm not in the mood for ice cream and Coca-Cola. - Yoongi cooed and stared down at the menu, turning the page and his eyes began glowing. - Oooh I want a Cuba Libre, I mean, a Bianca Del Rio.

— I will have one of my favourite queen. - Hoseok said and popped his tongue, again, for the fiftieth time in ten minutes, chosing a drink made of strawberry juice and vodka. - Make me an Alyssa Edwards, please. Okurrrr?

— I'm so sorry for my friend. - Namjoon said and rolled his eyes. - I want a portion of ‘backrolls’ [basically fried pork] and one Charlie Hides, I prefer Guinness, but I can have whatever beer it is.

— Gosh, there are over 100 options. - Jungkook pointed out, still paging through the menu, eyes brightening after seeing an Amarula drink. - But, a Bebe Zahara it will be.

— Nice choices. I particularly prefer a dose of Adore Delano with portions of Latrice Royale. - Peeps told and wrote their order in a beautiful calligraphy, leaving quickly right before.

— I loved this place. I’m gagging, bish - Hoseok chanted, smiling so big you could see his molars. - Namjoon, I know we won't film here, image copyright and all, but can we help them out? Announcing their establishment during the movie.

Namjoon sighed deeply and glanced at Yoongi. They spoke again with looks and eyebrow raises.

— As long as they don't charge a fortune to borrow their front door, we can try to get an agreement. - Yoongi affirmed petting Hobi’s forearm.

Nya kept on admiring Namjoon. Everyone seemed so chaotic or worried whilst himself, the boss in charge, was chill and mostly unimpressed, even surrounded by tall men dressed in drag and serving food. How could he not even express amusement to everything around? Wasn't it all different enough? She wasn’t getting paid for guiding them, but still would feel so much better having at least a glimpse of his approval. Jungkook was clearly rolling on joy like a pig in mud, Hoseok after spending so much time searching and digging in LGBT culture, had the time of his life in a RPDR themed bar, Yoongi felt content with good drinks and slowly solving their filming location problem. But what about Namjoon?

Well, he was sipping on his beer and chatting mostly with Yoongi, occasionally smiling and flashing dimples. The neon lights reflected and turned his hair even more purple, also turning Jungkook’s wires into a brighter cherry red. They seemed comfortable, which was great. Nya reminded when some homophobes tried to destroy the place by throwing rocks and setting fire. Eleganza & Extravaganza almost turned into ashes and dust. However, allies and LGBT folks raised money to reconstruct everything broken or burned.

The woman felt tempted to ask for a sneak peak on the script, but they would never reach that level of intimacy in only two hours. Her relationship with them was strictly professional by now, even having fun and possibly end up getting wasted in Las Vegas.

Nya loved her self-proclaimed job.

It’s not like Nya used to guide people around Las Vegas often, actually the first time was when Jin offered cash, in exchange of a sightseeing based on a local point of view. As he said, no one knows good places better than someone residing there. Even not expressing, meeting new clients made her restless for days, always rattling or zoning out. What if the experience end up being a deception? Despite Seokjin compliments, every single one has a different predilection, maybe bringing them to places she thought were appropriate and not regular ones, could go right or could go wrong.

Fortunately, Yoongi cackling and almost choking over Jungkook trying to sip his drink through with the nose, oh small - yet unbelievably bizarre - moment like those boosted her confidence. Nya laughed out loud when Hoseok punched Jeon’s shoulder:

— You better respect this temple, you heathen, RuPaul faithless. - The blonde one pronounced in a mocking tone. - We ain’t here to parteeey.

Namjoon rolled his eyes and slapped lightly the back of Hoseok’s head. They definitely were having fun.

The lilac-haired man was also admiring Nya. As someone living off of a business where, in its essence, who you know defines who you are, watching someone with so many contacts amused him. Although, what actually got his attention was how caring the woman behaved towards everyone, she literally spoke to whoever approached them as relatives. Uncle Diego, Aunt Tania, whilst the waiter/waitress were treat like cousins. It seemed like outcasts from Las Vegas were her family.

How did she knew so many people? Nothing plausible actually occurred to him.

- x - x - x - x -

After leaving the Eleganza & Extravaganza a bit tipsy, one more drink and Namjoon would lose control over Hoseok and Jungkook, so he decided it was time for finding a strip club, since one of the characters worked as a stripper. After jumping in a cab and Nya saying where to take them, everyone agreed in not having more alcoholic beverages until the end of night. As if.

The cab dropped them in front of a very common-looking strip club. Seriously, it was almost comic on how stereotyped the place seemed to be. Teets had a huge neon billboard with a female body traced in red, a huge bodyguard (whose looked a lot like Thing from Fantastic Four, before being turned into a walking rock), no line though. Nya hugged that man and waved at Namjoon and his friends.

— Uncle Ben, those are friends of mine and we need to get in Teets. - Nya stated smiling brightly, one of his HUGE arms around her small shoulders, whilst she pointed at Namjoon. - This is Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook, they are entrepreneurs from the cinema business and need a location for their upcoming release.

— Hi guys, nice to meet more friends of Nya. - So called Uncle Ben shook hands with everyone. Jungkook and his nerdy ass really inquired if everything was a dream or a joke, someone looking like Thing from Fantastic 4, with the same name, but changing everything when “uncle” word appeared first. A punchy Jeon Jungkook looked around trying to find cameras, Human Torch or someone, ironically, named Peter Parker. - Nice to know you guys are interested in using Teets as a location, they could make the use of some promotion.

— Well, we are here and willing to help. - Hoseok babbled and grinned, still fazed by their previous location.

— I’ll let you guys in, but don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to kick your arses out of stablishment. - Uncle Ben sounded serious, and no one wanted to play with Uncle Ben.

Ben stepped aside and allowed them in. Jungkook, who was biting inside his cheeks desperately trying to contain any unnecessary commentary, turned around and said, with brawn and brain.

— We will behave. With great powers comes great responsibility. - Jungkook felt flushed, yet content and relieved. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand almost choked, considering the idea of kicking the youngest one out themselves.

The black hallway, illuminated by dirty yellowish lights, was full of pictures, mostly old Playboy Magazine posters and covers, but a few original pictures from their most successful strippers also existed. Before reaching the main room, where the stage and bar resided, Nya stopped them and turned around.

— So there are a few advices I feel the need to give. - Nya cleared throat, scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably. - First: don't touch the girls, unless you pay for more physical contact, or they find you cute. I don’t know how strip clubs in United Kingdom works, so better to be safe than sorry. Second: lap dances will most definitely happen, so just try not to get stuck in the heat of the moment, ‘cuz no one would feel comfortable around an unsolved boner.

She swung her weight from one foot to another, trying to gather words. Nya knew a few girls working there, some actually used to be classmates during high school. Old friendships and, just like every other, valuable ones.

— Some of the girls I want to be casted are here. - She mumbled, mentally thanking God for the soundproof walls. - I know them every since high school. Carol studied scenic arts, but never succeed. Whilst Sasha, Gabe and Sharon deserves a better life, maybe a bit of help by appearing in a movie could push their careers. Don’t make anything inappropriate, please.

— Scout promise, Ma’am. - Yoongi made an “X” shape in front of his chest.

— Good. Now let’s go. - She opened the red door and heard the loud music invade her ears. “Purple Rain” by Prince blasting the old soundsystem. - Welcome to Teets, boys.

The lighting was weak, yet a bar with colourful bottles could be seen across the room, surrounded by small teal benches. Tables and chairs were placed around a medium sized stage, where a pole stood still (with a naked woman dancing around it). A common strip club, with a few men sitting and watching the blonde lady swinging her nude hips sensually, some ladies in latex clothing or lingerie wandered around, serving drinks and giving lap dances. All four men tried not to focus on them, finding details everywhere.

Nya took a sit next the stage, watching how chill Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon acted, contrasting completely with Jungkook’s behavior. The young man was shifting uncomfortably on his seat, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, if you paid attention could even see tiny droplets of sweat pooling around his hairline, never looking straight at the stage.

Namjoon and Nya leaned close to each other, getting lost in a conversation about how the atmosphere smelled like incense. According to her, the owner is brazilian so he always orders tons of Dama da Noite scented incense (a nightly blooming flower from Brazil) and purposely lights them close to air ducts, making air steamy. The effect caused was a sort of erotic odour consuming and confusing everyone's senses. Gossip says some men can get horny only by the expectation brought by the ambience built around.

Jeon Jungkook was clearly one of those men.

After a few more minutes of “Purple Rain”, Cherry Pop left the stage with a few dollar bills in hands. Jungkook took a deep breathe and relaxed. Unlucky, his whole body tensioned again when another song began and a woman with ebony coloured hair braided to perfection, curvy silhouette made of wide hips and natural boobs covered by a set of black and lacy lingerie, connected to a pair of sheer socks by garters, high heels emphasizing how toned her legs were. The woman's body was so far from being a small frame, yet sexy and attractive as hell.

— Guys, this is Carol, her stage name is Cristal Malone. - Nya cooed in awe. No one would ever deny how heavenly gorgeous she looked.

The air seemed to get heavier and sexier, “Voodoo” by Patrick Paige II played around them, Carol swayed along with the music. Jungkook wanted to avert the gaze and focus in somewhere other than her, but something on how she moved around lightly and feeling every note wouldn't allow him. It was hypnotic, she captured his glare and wouldn't release. When garters were abandoned close to Jeon's eyesight, the expectation for seeing more of her beautiful bare frame grew stronger.

Nonetheless, Carol knew who the guys drooling at front row were, Nya told about them and mentioned a chance of appearing in a movie. Decided to convince of her professionalism, she walked slowly around stage and went down stairs, grabbing dollar bills from admirers and leaving it close to her garters. Mentally playing eenie meenie miney mo, Cristal Malone chose who would be the lucky one to receive a special lap dance.

When she stopped in front of Jungkook and stared down at him, he felt his pants tightening more, but his amusement wasn't showing, the doe eyes were widened and almost jumping their orbits, cursing silently how odds weren't at his favour. She looked even better closer, carved features in a smooth caramel skin, irises shining like black pearls, a thick trace of eyeliner, mouth painted with a lustful shade of glossy red. Somehow, the atmosphere made Jeon smell of sex around. Carol looked at him with one eyebrow raised slightly, sensing his tension and grinned for nanoseconds, assuming her dominant position again. Taking advantage of the exact moment when one song changed to another, she lightly pushed his legs open, following the tempting rhythm of “Earned It” by The Weeknd.

Carol positioned herself over one of his muscled thighs, not sitting straight there, moving hips front and back, left and right, watching how his arms were pushed behind the chair, one hand holding the other. Getting closer and allowing his upper body to touch hers, Jungkook almost passed out. His face expressed a mix of embarrassment, excitement and, deep down, lust. Carol moved a leg to the side, getting off his leg and posing her hands where body was previously touching.

Using the hook between the verse and the chorus, she turned around and sat on his crotch, moving along with The Weeknd's voice.

Jungkook zoned out in the moment Carol sat on his thigh. His mind and body weren't connecting, not when his thinking head felt embarrassed and the down one was clearly enjoying some friction. Rationally wishing to be someone else, bodily drinking from every moment. That confusion made his penis semi-hard, not being able to get fully erect considering the situation. He wanted to melt, but also be there. How would Jeon face his hyungs after that particular show? HOW WOULD HE FACE NYA? Why the song seemed to last forever, yet so short?

Whilst Carol made Jungkook feel a mix of excitement and embarrassment, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok were surprised and a bit jealous. Lucky little bastard. Nya knew the stripper would do it, but never imagined the exaggeration.

The song was about to end, Jungkook sunk down on the chair when an already known satisfying feeling ran through his veins, like electricity. He came on his pants and the combo excitement+embarrassment was replaced by a profound shame. Cumming on his pants like a teenager.

The stripper got back on stage ready to continue her routine of striptease. Yoongi threw a US$20 bill and blinked. Jungkook's face grew redder every second, he turned around and said to Namjoon, stuttering and almost crying.

— I gotta change my pants.

— Why? Oh… - A very flustered and wide-eyed Namjoon held a chuckle down his throat. It was tragically comical. Jungkook had to change his pants.

After a few moments deciding what to do, their focus was no longer on Cristal Malone. Namjoon turned and told Nya what happened, she looked at Jungkook and stood up. Everyone followed her lead in the bar's direction, Jungkook walking weirdly and feeling, almost hearing the spunk sticking to his underwear.

— Hey Abby. - Nya waved for the bartender, a middle aged woman, with greyish ginger hair pulled back in a ponytail, brown eyes and peaceful features. - Do Teets still has the Lost & Found?

— Hey Nya, how are you? - Abby was drying cups and glasses. - Yes, it's in the back now. Close to where the girls change.

— I won't use some pervert’s trousers! - Jungkook exclaimed, hands firmly covering his crotch. - How does someone forgets its pants?

— You don't have plenty of choices, Kook. - Hoseok couldn't look straight at his friends. Even feeling aroused himself (thankfully he decided to semituck his dick), at least he didn't ejaculate.

— See, I warned about what was about to happen. Why don’t you use something from them? So we can drive to a convenience store or 24/7 Walmart to buy you new trousers? - Nya was deadly serious, even internally giggling.

The group began considering every possibility. Jungkook was zero into the idea of picking something from their Lost & Found, whilst Namjoon agreed with Nya, Hoseok defended the idea of gaining a few dimes by allowing Jeon to perform a striptease (“C’mon prudes! We all know there are a lot of bisexual guys around, and a bit more money is never too much”), Yoongi ordered a tonica and sipped without opinating, watching when one of the girls in latex approached and pronounced startling everyone.

— Hmm, I couldn’t stop myself from listening. Sorry. Hi Nya! - Her hair was a wavy and pink, skinny body with thin thighs, using a latex black leotard and knee-high boots. - Is the Jungkook lad someone open-minded when it comes to fashion? One of the girls who quit last week left a few pieces of clothing, and there is a long skirt. She had a waist about his size.

— Hi Sasha. Thank you, if Jungkook is okay with using skirts, then it’s better than nothing. - Nya stared at the youngest of them. - Oh where is my politeness? These are Namjoon, Hoseok, Yoongi and, well, Jungkook. They are the film producers I mentioned earlier.

— Well, it’s better than using a pervert’s trouser. - Jungkook still felt uncomfortable, giving his most sincere half-hearted smile. - Nice to meet you, Sasha. Where do I grab my new skirt?

— Nice to meet you, Sasha. - Yoongi flashed his best gummy smile at her and then turned to Jungkook. - With some lucky, your skirt will match your whole outfit.

— Fuck you, hyung. - Jungkook got even more flushed.

- x - x - x - x -

— How’s the feeling of wearing a skirt? - Namjoon mocked Jungkook, watching him spin around and staring at the mirror, checking his reflection with a long navy-blue skirt.

— Well, my balls and ding dong are dangling freely, it’s a bit chilly, but at least it’s not stained with cum… I hope. - Jungkook was feeling himself and, honestly, enjoying the experience. Also, the skirt matched his outfit. - Although, I still want to buy a new pair of trousers and fresh underwear. Where is the nearest Walmart?

They were all sprawled around in a pink and small dressing room, crowded with one or two girls walking around and gathering their costumes. Hoseok found a few pieces of clothing from previous special shows, the last one was Cabaret themed so dazzles, sequins and feathers were everywhere. Yoongi studied how cameras could be positioned around. Nya was sitting on a fluff couch close to where Jungkook stood, Namjoon beside her.

— I liked here. - Namjoon threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. - Not only the girls, they are gorgeous and all, but the ambience seems appropriate for our movie. Carol is casted for sure, Sasha, Gabe and Sharon are also amazing, Jungkook never felt more pampered in his whole life. It’s quite a lot, considering he used to be an idol.

— They are amazing, I’m happy you guys liked it. - Nya smiled and Namjoon thought it was probably the most adorable thing ever, a sincere kind of smile. - I’m also glad Jungkook behaved so well next to Carol, she played dirty giving him that intense lap dance. He was clearly the most tense.

— Honestly, I don’t judge Jungkook. If Carol sat on my lap like she did with him, I’d probably bust a nut as well. She is hot. - Namjoon was embarrassed after pronouncing such words, but he felt madly comfortable around Nya.

— Oh, I don’t judge too. I’d also bust a nut if Carol ever sat on me. - Nya looked at Namjoon and saw his wide-eyes, laughing right after and watching him chuckles. His adorable dimples could kill someone.

Namjoon got distracted by Hoseok fazed with a huge fur coat which covered his whole body. It wasn't impossible to understand why Nya accepted and enjoyed that place, in contrast with what it looked like, Teets wasn't a regular strip club. There were way too many costumes, from cabaret to pimp or odalisque. The purple haired man questioned why.

— Everyone dreams of something. Most girls working here wished to become actresses, but somehow never reached it. - Her eyes became a bit sorrow, but got bright in nanoseconds. - Fábio, the manager and owner, understood and decide to help them a little. Twice a month their performances are themed. The girls chooses a subject and prepare presentations based on it, so they can play a character. Fábio also always encourage them to create a personality to their stage names. Cristal Malone is a dominatrix, Cherry Pop was inspired by Harley Quinn, Fendi Dust is based on Liz Taylor's interpretation of Cleopatra.

If there were any doubts in regard of renting the place, they vanished immediately.

To be continued...

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dragontamingvance · 6 years ago

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mother knows best? | mcvance

TITLE: Mother Knows Best DATED: April 6th, 2019 INCLUDED: Emmeline Vance ( @dragontamingvance ) & Marcel McKinnon (@marcelxmckinnon ) (ft. Adira McKinnon) TRIGGERS: Kidnapping, violence and mention of abuse. SYNOPSIS: A familiar person resurfaces to remind Marcel that he’s not as in control of his life as he’d like to be.

EMMELINE: Another evening out was always nice especially considering things had been going off without a hitch for the past few weeks. They’d made plans to meet at his flat and Emmeline was her usual self, out the door with time to spare. She couldn’t handle being late and her mind anything other than five minutes early had might as well be late. Apparating carefully outside an alleyway where she knew that she wouldn’t be seen by any prying muggle eyes, she was able to make her way into the building and in the direction of the flat quick. To be fair she should have seen it coming, things had been going well, probably too well. And when that happened something seemed to always catch up to them.

It had been a blow to the back of the head with something hard, a personal touch considering magic was an option in their world. From there everything was a mixture of darkness, a nasty headache, and noises that she couldn’t quite make out but she was certain that she'd been taken through a portkey. Her surroundings smelled different, like a mixture of dust, dried ink and old parchment. As hard as she tried there was no matching it to a place that she knew. Bindings seemed to be keeping her from moving her hands and feet, quickly realizing that getting up wasn’t an option. But what she could hear clear enough through the ringing in her ears of her mind focusing back into reality was the sound of her phone ringing some yards away from where she sat. For there she could hear a female voice she couldn't place, answering the call with an all too cheery tone that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. ADIRA MCKINNON: Adira had been planning this meticulously with a trained eye that knew what to look for. Her children were careless, they fell into routines that she thought they would have realized was dangerous right now. If they wouldn’t take her calls then she’d get their attention another way, there was no lack of people that they cared about. The phone ringing was expected, plucking it off the Vance girl before they’d taken a portkey to a bookshop she had frequented with Marcel. Now it was closed and abandoned but it was a place she could count on him remembering. “Hello darling, I’m pleased to see that your phone is still working after all.” MARCEL: Marcel almost couldn't believe how nice everything had been the past few weeks. While there had been the bombings, it wasn't anything they couldn't handle and he was dealing with the idiots at work, but his personal life had actually be on an upward spiral. Things with Emmeline had still been going and he found himself to be more and more infatuated with the girl that he had snogged in a closet only a couple months earlier. He had actually be running a little late, but he figured he should be there in time to meet her at the door. Approaching his flat, there was this feeling of disappointment when he didn't see here there, but maybe she had been running late as well. Entering the flat, Marcel took the extra time he had to change his clothes and clean up a bit before she arrived.

The auror had waited, an half hour... Then an hour. Next thing he knew, his fingers were on his phone, dialing Emmeline. While he tired not to be someone who was over worried, he was a bit on the cautious side. He just wanted to make sure she was at least okay. With everything that had been happening lately, you honestly couldn't be too careful. Sitting at his table, Marcel waited to hear the phone ring, but he wasn't expecting the voice that was on the other end. "Mother?" He questioned, checking the number before feeling it finally click a second later. "Where is she? I swear to Merlin if you did anything to her..." His voice trailed off as the red started to flash and grew angry to the point of not being able to speak. The idea of Emmeline being hurt because of his family was almost unbearable, but he couldn't over react until he knew where she was and knew if she was okay. EMMELINE: Red flags were going off at the way the woman spoke to the person who called her, leading her to believe that this wasn't about her at all. There wasn't time to worry about that just yet as Emmeline focused on removing the binds that were around her wrist. She was certain that they were of the magical sort and that meant if she could focus enough that she could get her hands out of them with some help from wandless magic. She wasn't a professional at it by any means but perhaps with a little luck, she could do enough to get her hands out of the binds. From there things would fall into place, she could get the blind off of her eyes and figure out just who she was dealing with. Doing her best to keep from making her movements evident she moved against them, fingers moving to fold up as she felt the sparks flying against her wrists letting her know that she had to be doing something right.

ADIRA MCKINNON: Adira could hear the rage that swelled up on the other side of the phone line causing her to realize that her decision had been surprisingly accurate. "I think we both know that threats aren't the way to get what you want. Especially considering you have nothing to offer." She moved from where she stood walking for a moment as she considered her next words carefully needing them to hit the right nerve to prove the point that she was making. "Well you see, your mother was feeling ignored and I could only think of one way to get you to hear me." She noticed the movements out of the corner of her eyes turning and walking closer. "She's fine but I'm more than happy to prove that to you." At that Adira held the phone away from her ear towards where the girl was bound, aiming her wand at one of the legs before sending a stinging jinx causing an involuntary scream in pain to come from Emmeline's mouth. The phone was brought back to her ear quickly, "See? Everyone is fine." MARCEL: “That never stopped you, now did it?” Marcel could remember every moment that his mother tried to use Marlene against him. He could remember the pain that she cause, just because she felt like it was the right decision. He sighed, now growing annoyed as he tried to think of where she could’ve taken Emmeline. Marcel had pretty much written off his mother when she decided to leave their family, not caring much happened to her at that point. However, now she was starting to go too far. He wasn’t a child and wasn’t going to just let her get away with all of this anymore. “There is a reason we aren’t talking to you anymore. You left our family, so why would you even want to talk to us? You don’t want to be a part of this family anymore, so why are you even trying?”

He was quiet for a moment, brain racing through every idea he could come up with. Unfortunately, he wasn’t coming up with anything useful. His thoughts had been completely changed when he suddenly heard Emmeline screaming, a scream of his own coming out. “NO!” He yelled, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. It was in that moment that he realized she had him. Even after all these years, all the things he had done and seen, she still had this control over him. She was still willing to hurt someone he cared about, just to get him to pay attention to her. “What do you want?” The words were pushed through gritted teeth when he spoke. He hated the idea of her getting what she wanted, but he hated the idea of Emmeline getting hurt even more. EMMELINE: She could have cursed or she could have fired but she didn’t. Instead, she willed her mouth closed as quickly as it had opened, not wanting to give the satisfaction of the cries of her pain. Emmeline felt like every nerve under ending on the skin of her leg was a flame. She could focus on anything but the pain that came from the spell used. Her attempts to try and break from the bindings were halted as she instead realized that sitting would be better. She didn’t want to know who was on the other side of her mask with their cruel intentions. She kept her hands stilled and instead focused on keeping her eyes closed against the cloth as if she could will the time to pass fast and things to be over.

ADIRA MCKINNON: She was meticulous in her planning down to the detail of where she would be. There was never a move made that didn’t account to Adira’s grand plan. “I think that you know as well as I do that your father and sister could aspire to the type of family that we could have together.” She allowed a moment of silence for that to settle in as she debated the correct way to answer her son. “I want you by my side. On the right side defending the dark lord as the proper pure blood son would do. All you need to do is agree to standby by me and everything can be over. I can tell you where I am.” It was a simple request that she was more than aware would cause an internal debate in Marcel but that his side that wanted to protect the people that he cared for would win. MARCEL: Marcel felt like the weakest he had in years. When he finally decided that he was going to support his father and sister over his mother, that he was going to fight with the Order, he felt like he finally had the chance to get away from his mother. Away from all the pain and trouble she cause. She had always wanted him to be the perfect little soldier, willing to do anything she said. Willing to follow anyone she told him to, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt the people he cared about to protect some sort of pureblood agenda. "I know that they made the right choice fighting for the side they chose. They actually stick together and protect one another, not resort to abuse in order to get what they want." There was no sense in covering up what she did to him, how she treated him for so many years. Marcel hadn't told anyone about it, not even Marlene, mostly because it wasn't going to be something he'd ever do.

Hearing the request, Marcel felt that twist in his stomach that he did they day she left. He hated her, more than anyone knew, but he felt a need to protect the people around him. Protect those that he cared about, but he couldn't do this. He'd much rather die that support someone like the Dark Lord. "Tell me where you are." His voice stayed calm, not giving away what he was trying to do. "I know you well enough to know that you aren't going to let her go that easily. I want to see her." Marcel told her, keep his tone strong. Even if he felt himself on the verge of wanting to break at this point, he wasn't going to. He told himself a long time ago he wasn't going to let her do this to him. Not ever again. ADIRA MCKINNON: Adira wasn’t a fool, she had after all been the one to raise her son and teach him everything she knew. She could tell from his perfectly composed voice that he had a plan that likely matched her own. For that reason a smile crossed her lips as she contemplated her next move, “You can’t really think me foolish enough to tell you where I am and stay in the vicinity?” It may have been poised as a question but it was rhetorical. There wasn’t a part of her that would stay and give her son the advantage he wanted., Instead she prepared herself knowing as soon as she told him where they were that he would be in his way and she would need to be gone. “I took her to a place you and I frequented when you were younger. A place now closed and empty. We spent many days in this shop. It was the one place where you and I could truly connect.” It was the place that she had a son who listened to her and not someone who rebelled against her every command.

“The next time I call, there’s better be an answer. No one died today because I allowed them to live. I may not be as calm the next time. Remember that, son.” As she finished the conversation the red button on the screen was hit tossing the phone to the girls feet. A simple stunning spell sent to ensure Emmeline would be unconscious when her son arrived. Adira left the scene with a pop of apparition surely leaving just as Marcel was appearing on the scene. She knew that he was quick but he want quick enough. MARCEL: Marcel just wanted to get Emmeline back safely. If anything came out of this whole conversation, it had to be her getting back to her life. Even when he was younger and didn’t know much about what a moment like this could really do to him, he still fought to keep his sister okay. Fought to make sure she didn’t have to worry about anything, no matter what he had to go through. “It’s probably for the best that you aren’t.” He told her, knowing that he might not be able to control himself if he saw her. As her words came out, memories flashed in his head of the times they went to that book shop. One that was only for them. Moments when she was actually a mother, but it was ended when her final words came through and the phone called ended.

Marcel knew that he would never be able to follow his mother’s footsteps, which meant that he only had one choice. A choice he didn’t want to make, but he didn’t have to worry about it right now. What he needed to do now was get Emmeline. Pop out of his apartment, he landed right inside of the book shop. The abandoned shelves made him nervous, his eyes moving over everything as he became prepared for whatever might come. That was when he finally spotted Emmeline and quick feet made their way to her. A proper spell broke the binds on her before he tucked on arm under her knees and wrapped the other against her. As he lifted her into his arms, he got a good look and could see that nothing to serious had happened, this time. “Im sorry...” His words quiet before popping out of the shop and taking Emmeline to Mungos. EMMELINE: Heavy brown eyes fluttered open, the sounds around her were muffled and the smells were far too clean. A hand came up to rub the fuzzy feeling from her eyes and realized that a drip was placed in the top of her hand. There was no pain but everything felt foreign and uncomfortable. The noises were people bustling in the corridor, blinking furiously as she recognized that she was in a room in Mungo’s her breathing suddenly felt more difficult as she tried to push herself up from the bed. “No, no, take a breath. Slow down.” She heard turning to spot the Healer who’d been in the room unnoticed. “I wouldn’t try moving just yet. Try and give yourself time to get your bearings.” His voice warning as he moved forward to lend a hand to Emmeline.

Sitting up was good, it was a start, preparing to ask for a drink but as she spotted her phone she leaned forward to grab it, scrolling through text messages trying to put things together. Pulling the events of the last few hours together slowly but surely, she could remember bits and pieces of what had happened, someone had knocked her over the head when she’d gone to see Marcel at his flat. She’d never made it in the door, she could remember being blindfolded and a voice that she couldn't pinpoint. There had been an excruciating pain in her leg and for that reason alone Emmeline moved to throw the blanket off ensuring that everything was where it was supposed to be. A hand came to rest on her forehead, clearly processing what was going on, her eyes now able to take in more of her surroundings, spotting one figure outside she’d been hoping to see. MARCEL: When Marcel has handed Emmeline to the Orderlies, he had asked if he could stay with her. Claiming it was official Auror duties and he needed to watch her. While he didn’t explain to them all of the situation, he was able to spin it enough that they let him stay outside of her room, which was all he could handle. Realizing that his mother might be coming back, he had a choice to make. Either he could do as she wanted and actually turn, or he could go back to how he was doing things. Keeping people at arms length and not letting them get close to him. It wasn’t until tonight that he realized just how close to her he had become. Every time his eyes tried to close, he saw her sitting there and could hear her screams again. He wanted to be selfish and keep her with him, but he couldn’t. Adira was relentless and would keep trying until she got what she wanted, which at this point was an obedient Marcel.

The whole time they were in Mungos, he never actually stepped into her room. He didn’t even turn to look back at him. Seeing her laying that hospital bed would only confirm to him that she had gotten mixed up in this. He knew he was likely being irrational about it somehow being his fault, but it made sense to him to keep his distance from here on out. Marlene and his father were easy to protect. But Emmeline was new. She was something he wasn’t prepared for, which was something his mother had noticed. She had been watching him and knew that Emmeline was his weak link. His thoughts were stopped as he heard rustling happening behind him. She was awake and moving apparently. Trained eyes stayed focused on the wall in front of him. She didn’t deserve this in her life. As much as he wanted her, he didn’t want her in this. EMMELINE: “He’s been out there all night, hasn’t left the chair.” The person assured with a nod of his head towards Marcel, as if he could read her thoughts. “You’ll be able to go home tomorrow more than likely, we’ve just got to get you up and moving.” Eyes looking over the chart in his hand before eyes lit up and glancing back up, “Oh, and of course the baby is fine from what we can tell.” Her closed mouth was now ajar, head tilted to the side as she looked him suddenly aware that she’d begun shaking her head.”I’m not--” She started before her mouth closed eyes widening more if that was possible, as she looked over the Orderly, finding herself incapable of forming words. “--pregnant?” The certainty in her voice no more as realized that what he was saying as indeed true. The Orderly watched her, the smile on his face no more as he could tell that Emmeline hadn’t been aware of the information that she’d just received. “Uh, I’d have to say that you are. The spell confirmed it."

The words were muffled as he spoke, she found herself staring at him for a moment before looking back down at her flat stomach, wondering just what was going on underneath the surface. The reality being that a little person was developing that was half she and half Marcel, the thought causing her to suddenly feel just a little more reliant on the bed that she laid in. Eyes looking back up to the Orderly still stumped, “A baby?�� Her mouth was ajar again and the Healer gave a nod. “A baby, indeed." A hand coming to rest on her shoulder looking her in the eyes with a smile, “Congratulations Ms. Vance.” Emmeline heard him say as she watched the man walk out of the room. MARCEL: Marcel could hear the orderly speak and felt his cheeks heat just the slightest. While he felt like he couldn’t go inside, couldn’t face what happened to her, he wanted to watch over her until he heard she was okay. He had to at least know that she was okay. The night had been filled with people coming in and out, watching her and making sure she was okay. However, when he heard the orderly say she was going to be okay, Marcel made the split decision to get up and leave the spot he had been sitting in. He didn’t want to hear anymore because it was just going to make him feel worse about the pain she had already been in. His feet were quiet as he moved, pulling his phone out before dialing a number who would know this situation.

Marcel was already outside when the other side of the phone was answered. He felt like a child running to his father, but he didn’t know what to do right now. “She took her...” His voice broke as he spoke and Marcel pulled himself into an alley, getting away from people and taking a breath. “Mum took Emmeline and used her against me. It’s happening again. She wants me to join her.” There was nothing but a sigh from the other side before the words Marcel was hoping not to hear. “You know what you have to do, Marcel.” The words only confirmed that his initial reaction had been correct. They knew his mother would come back and her first stop would be Emmeline. “Come to the manor. We’ll get a plan together so we’re prepared for next time.” His father told him before hanging up. Marcel's arm fell a bit as he looked back to Mungos. That night was supposed to be so good, but ended up in turmoil. Making sure there wasn’t anyone who could see him, Marcel took popped to the manor, knowing this was going to be a long few days. EMMELINE: Just like that, the healer was gone off to tend to whatever he needed to next and she was left to process the bomb that he had left in her lap. She’d never had pictured herself with a child, or at least not at this time in her already fragile life. She was still young and there was so much going on with the war, proof of that narrowed down to now with her in sitting in a bed in Mungos. Oh Godric, she’d been kidnapped and already put the life of the baby in danger. How could she protect someone so helpless when she couldn’t even protect herself? Emmeline was spiraling and knew that she needed to find something to lean on. Or someone.

Her eyes moved to look into the corridor for any help and to let him know what was going on. It was then she realized that Marcel was gone. He had left her without so much as coming in to check on her. Emmeline’s wheels turning, unable to stop herself from wondering what had just happened. To her knowledge, nothing had changed… unless he has heard. He had heard she was pregnant and left? Had he left her? Her bottom lip was trembling before she could stop it unsure where the sudden rush of emotion was coming from. She felt much more vulnerable now than she had ever before aware of just how much things had changed. How much things were going to change sooner than she knew. There was no time for this, she had to pull herself together.

#thread.#thread with marcel mckinnon.#otp: mcvance. | you are the reason.#thread titled mother knows best?

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