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mystical-flute · 6 months ago

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Checkered: Chapter 5

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Sometimes, it felt like she couldn’t tell the Big Five anything without it turning into an ordeal. Case in point, the Big and Young Fives being gathered after an offhand comment Reika made to Lector about meeting Margareta Liebehenschel. It was the middle of the evening, but she really just wanted to go home - she’d driven to the Manor on her own for a reason.

“SchroderCorp is going into gaming too?” Lector asked, raising a brow at Reika later that night. “What an… interesting development. We already have quite the relationship with them, and here they are again, like an annoying mosquito that won’t seem to quit.”

“You’d know all about those wouldn’t you, Alden? Given those mosquitos in Louisiana you always talk about,” Crump snorted, a nauseating sound that made Reika question when the last time he’d blown his nose was. “Miss Liebehenschel is the daughter of SchroderCorp’s CFO. I have spoken with him multiple times. He is a very serious man, but one who likes to talk, and it’s rather difficult to get him to stop when alcohol is involved. I think I can get some good information out of him about this new turnover.”

“See to it that you do, Crump,” Gansley said. “We need to know if we need to remind SchroderCorp why it has always been second place, and why it will remain so even as the changeovers continue.”

Johnson adjusted his glasses. “The good news, at least, is that both of the Kaibas have already made waves with other major companies. We won’t be seeing Mister von Schroder making a deal with Pegasus for holographic gaming technology, for example. But yes… it is always so much fun to put them in their place.”

There was danger in his tone, and it sent a shiver down Reika’s spine, concealed by her turning away briefly to grab her alcoholic drink off the table next to her, sending a silent apology to Margareta in the process. She may have done the right thing for KaibaCorp as a whole, but what was the personal cost? Margareta hadn’t done anything but talk to her - she hadn’t threatened KaibaCorp, she hadn’t forced Reika to spill any secrets… why did SchroderCorp need any sort of reminder of their place in the world?

To her right, she saw Hideo frown into his own drink. Was she not the only one who thought the Big Five went too far sometimes?

“Good work, Reika. You’ve given us something else to work on besides that stupid amusement park,” Nezbit said, his face barely concealing rage before he took a long drink of his Manhattan.

“Yes, very well done. SchroderCorp won’t know what hit it,” Gansley agreed. “But we must be patient, and striking so quickly will backfire on us. Waiting until they manage to accomplish something is in our best interest.”

They were patient men, which worried her. As she’d gotten older, and with Gozaburo’s death, she had really been soured on the brutality of the business world, to the point where she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stick around. Maybe she should look more seriously at Tokyo, instead of Kyoto. A little distance might be for the best…

“Hey guys! C’mon, let’s go dance!” Noah said, peering into the room. “They finished the silent auction and now the orchestra’s playing. No one seems to want to dance though, so I figured we should start it off, right?”

“A marvelous idea, Master Noah,” Lector said, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and had another spike of worry streak down her spine. Had Seto weakening their power started to make them crack?

Still, she followed the others out of the room.

“Shall we?” Seto asked. “The others have already paired up, and Katsuo already found his girlfriend.”

She smiled softly. “Well then, I suppose we shall.”

His touch was featherlight as they moved through the crowd, just two people (not a couple) following the rules of ballroom dancing. He led, she followed, and after a few moments of KaibaCorp’s next generation leading the way, the floor filled with other couples joining in on the fun.

But while Seto and Reika were fooling the adults and other guests in the room, there was one person that could see right through the charade:

Mokuba Kaiba.

“Have you been practicing Canon in D?” Reika asked a few weeks later, her school bag on her shoulders as she swept into Kaiba Manor’s large music room. The room only seemed to get bigger as she got older - maybe it was a reminder that she was planning to make a career out of music?

Mokuba nodded and grinned. “Yeah, I sure have! Do you want to listen to it?”

“Well, as your teacher, I think that’s rather important,” she said with a grin, taking a seat on the bench next to him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Mokuba might not have been as outwardly passionate as Seto and Noah when it came to science and computers, but he loved the lessons with her, which made her incredibly happy. The whole reason she’d asked Gozaburo for the chance to teach him piano was because she’d seen the way Gozaburo ignored him in favor of the elder Kaiba brothers. She hadn’t been able to stand it.

Gozaburo had simply seen it as Reika paying a debt to him; one she hadn’t realized she’d even had. He had paid for the music lessons the Young Five had received as children, but she hadn’t anticipated being in debt to him. As much as she’d enjoyed teaching Mokuba, it had been nice to know the weight of Gozaburo Kaiba was off her shoulders. Now, she and Mokuba could simply enjoy themselves, which was what Reika always felt music should be.

“I think you’re going to be a really good music teacher in the future, Reika,” Mokuba said, which broke her out of her thoughts. “Do you know what you’re going to play for your university auditions?”

“Something from Bach, I think, but I don’t want to even think about that until I sit my exams and have my results back. Your brothers are lucky they don’t have to worry about this sort of thing.”

Mokuba laughed. “High school sucks, huh?”

“You can say that again. At least I can try and keep an eye on Yugi this year. Make sure no one bothers him.”

“Oh yeah? How are you doing that?”

She pretended to be fascinated with dirt under her nails. “I just reminded a new classmate of his what happens when he messes with someone with ties to KaibaCorp, that’s all.”

“That’s awesome! I bet he learned his lesson!”

Reika gave him a gentle smile as Canon in D began to fill the room. “I sure hope so. Elbows in, Mokuba.”

Mokuba shifted, adjusting his posture. “I watched some videos of this song last night. It’s used a lot in Western weddings.”

Reika hummed. “So I’ve heard.”

“Do you want to get married?”

Reika furrowed her brow and shrugged. What a strange conversation to be having with a thirteen year old boy. “I don’t know. Maybe one day.”

“To Seto?”

That got her attention, and her eyes widened. Mokuba didn’t notice her surprise, and instead kept his eyes on the sheet music in front of him.

“What are you talking about, Mokuba?”

“I saw you and Seto in the garden the night of the silent auction. Don’t worry - Noah and the Big Five didn’t see. I made sure of it.”

It was better knowing the Big Five hadn’t seen them, but knowing Mokuba had, well, it still left her a little uneasy as she tried to think of what to say to him.

“Everything regarding our relationship is too new. I don’t know if we even put a name on it yet,” she said. “There is more to your brother than he lets on, but still, it’s only been a couple of weeks. And besides, technically my school frowns upon relationships. Neither of us are ready for anything to be public.”

Mokuba frowned. “That’s a stupid rule.”

She smiled weakly. “Very much so. Now come on, finish Canon in D and I’ll let you read a new piece of music. This time it’s from one of your favorite video games.”

And that was all Mokuba needed to straighten his posture again, the conversation dropped, and hopefully, for good.

-----

Yugi was scared.

One moment, he was writhing on the ground in pain, listening to Ushio start another round of violence against Joey and Honda, and the next, he was standing upright, clutching the completed Millennium Puzzle and watching Ushio play in a pile of leaves and dirt and seemingly completely oblivious to what he was doing. His body still ached, but he wasn’t bleeding anymore which he supposed was a good thing.

“Wha - what happened?” he whispered, looking at Joey and Honda with wide eyes. He didn’t trust his voice right now, didn’t trust that the bile in his throat wouldn’t swallow him whole.

“Dunno. There was a flash of gold light when you finished that puzzle, and then all of a sudden Ushio was like that. Maybe you were right about that puzzle being magical,” Joey said with a shrug and a wince.

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we need to get out of here,” Honda said, hissing in pain as he clutched at his shoulder. “Ah man, my parents aren’t gonna like this.”

Nor would his, Yugi realized. He didn’t know how he was supposed to explain the scrapes and bruises on his body to his mom and grandpa…

Unless he called in backup.

Yugi staggered to his phone and quickly dialed Reika’s number. Her parents were out of town this weekend - maybe the three of them could crash with her until Sunday, when their wounds were, hopefully, a little less noticeable?

“Hello?”

“R-Reika? It’s Yugi. Can you come and get my friends and I from school?”

He heard a sigh on her end of the line. “It’s seven o’clock, Yugi. What are you and your friends still doing at school?”

“I lost one of my textbooks and I need it for my homework. They came to help me look for it. Just… please can you come get us?”

“Okay, okay. I’m about five minutes away. Wait for me by the gates.”

“My cousin is coming to pick us up,” Yugi said, sliding his phone into his pocket and grabbing his bag. “She’ll be here in five minutes.”

Joey looked at Ushio for just a brief moment before following Yugi to the gates. “Hey Yuge, uh, it ain’t Reika that’s comin’ to get us right? I don’t wanna be put on KaibaCorp’s shit list or something.”

Yugi stared at him in confusion. “Why would Reika be upset with you? It wasn’t you that beat me up. I would be more worried about Ushio.”

Ordinarily, Yugi would be concerned with what the power of the Big Five might do to someone like Ushio, but given what had happened, how he’d completely and utterly disregarded what Yugi had said to him about Honda and Joey, well, Yugi was rather curious… providing anything could happen to Ushio after he suddenly decided he wanted to play in the leaves thinking it was money.

Reika’s dark red sedan hurtled itself around a corner and came to a stop in front of them, the doors unlocking with a click.

“Hi Reika! Thanks for coming to get us!” Yugi said, trying to stop the scrape on his forehead from being too obvious.

“I’m surprised you called anyway, or is this more about your friends?” she asked, brown eyes sharpening as she noticed Joey get into the back seat. “Hello again, Mister Wheeler.”

She was using her Young Five voice. Yugi didn’t hear it often, usually not involved with KaibaCorp or the program, but he’d heard her use it before. A sharp, clipped tone, a look up and down whoever she was speaking to, and her posture perfectly straight. A warning for one to choose their words carefully.

It worked, and Yugi could see worry in Joey’s eyes. “Uhh, hey, nice ta see ya again Reika.”

Reika’s sharp look turned to confusion when a trickle of blood slid down Joey’s forehead “Whoa, okay, what happened here? I thought you guys were just picking up a book Yugi left?”

“Ushio. There was a misunderstanding that Joey and Honda were messing with me, so Ushio… took care of business after school. He demanded payment, twenty-thousand yen, to be brought to him. I didn’t know what to do so I was working on the puzzle and… there was a piece missing so I went back to the school and Ushio ambushed me instead,” Yugi explained.

Reika’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh…”

“And… I finished the puzzle and made a wish! For friends! And that’s when Joey and Honda jumped in to try and stop Ushio, but… he got the upper hand, and then… I don’t really know what happened after that. All I know is he’s running around the lot thinking the leaves on the ground is money. That’s why we called you. I was… sort of hoping we could crash at your apartment this weekend? So that way some of the bruises and cuts will start looking better? Please?”

She sighed. “Alright, alright. But I’m going to need you to get permission from all your parents. Yes, Yugi, that includes you. I’ll stop off at your places so each of you can grab an overnight bag.”

“You’d do that? Why?” Joey asked.

Reika shrugged. “I’m gonna be super bored this weekend anyway. Might as well harbor some teens who are trying to avoid telling their parents they got their asses kicked.”

“Hey that’s not fair I got one hit on Ushio!” Joey protested.

Yugi laughed a little. “It was a good hit, from how it sounded.”

Stopping at Honda’s was easy, with both of his parents working late all he needed to do was go inside, feed his dog, pack a bag, and leave.

Joey’s apartment, on the other hand, was a bit strange. He went in the front door, which was normal, but when he came back out, his knuckles were bleeding again, and he left down the fire escape instead of the front door.

“Ah man, Joey’s dad was home,” Honda said with a frown. “The only reason he even got a job was to be able to afford more booze. He’s supposed to be a janitor at KaibaCorp but… I don’t know if he actually does anything. Don’t… tell Joey I said that.”

Yugi saw Reika’s eyes sharpen again, but he shook his head quickly to try and dissuade her from doing anything rash.

Reika relented and poked her head out her window as Joey moved to put his bag in the trunk. “Joey. Open the black box to the left. There’s a first aid kit in there. You can clean up your hand on the way to the game shop.”

“Oh - thanks Reika.”

Looking down at his phone, he let out a small breath of relief. “Gramps is going to be the only one home when we get there. Mom’s at dinner with some friends of hers.” While it was difficult to sneak past Gramps, knowing he had Reika with him made Yugi feel a little more confident in him never finding out about what happened.

“So we go in, I distract him with a conversation, and we leave. Sounds simple enough to me,” Reika said as the car turned onto his street and came to a stop in front of the shop.

“Why Reika! I didn’t expect to see you today!” grandpa said in surprise when they entered the shop, Joey and Honda trailing in behind them. Gramps was closing up the shop as they walked in, the register was empty and most of the overhead shop lights were dark.

Yugi took that opportunity to sneak upstairs to get a bag packed, though he could still hear the conversation as he went.

“Hey gramps, uh, I ran into Yugi as I was driving home from Kaiba Manor. I was giving a lesson to Mokuba. He’s gotten so good!”

Kaiba Manor had always given Yugi a sense of unease. Gozaburo’s eyes had never seemed human, had been felt in every corner of the place, and Noah had only ever come across as a puppet to Yugi. It seemed to be changing now, with Gozaburo gone and Noah using his intellect for a better purpose, but Yugi didn’t know how she managed to still be involved after everything that had come to light, and everything that had yet to. The Young FIve were certainly more brave than he was.

Zipping his overnight bag up, Yugi also grabbed his backpack and put it on his shoulders before going downstairs to join the others, laughter erupting from the quartet he’d left behind just as he entered the room.

“Alright, I’ll see you Sunday night, gramps!”

“You be careful and make sure your homework is done!” Gramps replied, eying the backpack on Yugi’s shoulders.

“I will, I will!” he laughed, following the others out of the shop, the door locking shut behind him.

“There, see? Easy,” Reika said with a grin. “Now, who wants dinner? I can call Hashimoto’s when we get to my place.”

“Hashimoto’s? I ain’t never been there,” Joey said.

“Oh it’s great. They’re mostly known for ramen, but they also sell bowls and soup. Mister Hashimoto has been a family friend since before we were born. He went to the same university as Reika’s dad,” Yugi explained. “And the restaurant isn’t too far from Reika’s apartment, so it shouldn’t take too long for delivery.”

“Sounds good to me! I could go for some ramen!” Honda said. “Don’t worry Joey, we’ll find something you like there.”

“Sure, yeah, uh - alright.”

He could see something change again in Reika’s gaze, but no one said anything, and the trip back to the apartment was quiet, only the radio producing any noise.

After they settled into the apartment and dinner was ordered, Yugi took the puzzle out of his bag and stared at it. Was Honda right? Was the puzzle actually cursed with ancient Egyptian dark magic? Gramps had always said all the Millennium Items were, but Yugi had always written it off as a scary story told to children - Gramps had wasted no time in telling those stories to he and Reika when she’d spent the night at the game shop as a kid. It had been one of the reasons why she’d refused to wear the item gramps had brought back for her, a golden bracelet with the same symbol the puzzle had on it. Yugi couldn’t blame her for not wanting to wear hers seeing that now he had a blank spot in his memory.

“Yugi,” Reika said, sitting down next to him. “Do you remember that promise I made you when we were kids?”

Yugi nodded. “That you didn’t want to wear your bracelet until I solved the puzzle, so we could show them off together.”

She nodded in return and opened her folded hands, revealing the bracelet in her palm. “I’m making you a new promise now. Whatever happened with your puzzle, whatever might happen in the future, we are going to figure it out together. This is not something you have to do alone.”

He smiled and nodded, taking a moment to look at Joey and Honda (and Anzu would be there too, he knew), and felt his heart swell with relief, knowing Reika was right, and he wasn’t alone, not anymore.

Reika took a deep breath and secured the bracelet on her wrist.

Yugi looked at her with bated breath. “So…? Do you feel any different?”

“No… I don’t think so,” Reika replied, looking down at herself and flexing her hands like she’d suddenly start shooting out lasers. “Everything seems normal here.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Maybe your bracelet has something different from the puzzle then.”

Reika shrugged. “Maybe.”

----

“Osiris, it is time. A mortal has solved the puzzle and the bracelet is in place.”

Osiris looked at Anubis and nodded solemnly. The Field of Reeds was missing a king, and now, it seemed, it was finally time to right that wrong.

“Fetch Azila then. She knows what must be done.”

Anubis nodded and swept from the room.

#checkered #yugioh #fanfiction

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years ago

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A real beaut'

Dear @fishing4stars, here is your story about a really ugly ship.

As evidenced by a discussion with Shadow on the server, Círdan is one of the only characters I consistently write Gen stories for.

So, hooray for love that is neither romantic nor sexual in nature.

Words: 1k

Characters: Círdan

Prompt: Seaside (and an ugly ship)

Warnings: A very ugly ship

At first, Círdan had taken immense pleasure and pride in the construction of ships that were not only uniquely suited to the difficult crossing they would have to brave but also breathtakingly beautiful to behold.

Through the ages, he had perfected his techniques, managing to create ever more elaborate and stunning vessels while keeping to a reasonable and steady rhythm.

Yes, he was justly proud of the fruits of his personal development and lovingly executed labour.

Unfortunately, he was not spared the terrible realisation that befell most quasi-immortal beings: after a certain point, the inevitable stagnation raced the just as inexorable boredom to the finish line that would determine which one would ultimately destroy a dream and enterprise so consistently and faithfully pursued through the years.

Moreover, fewer and fewer elves arrived at the Havens to be granted passage into the West—Círdan could only surmise that almost all who wanted to leave had already done so.

All that was left for him to do was to wait endlessly for those who were still holding out for an improbable miracle or who did not let haste and common sense overrule their obscene desire to witness the tragedies and heroics of this declining age.

Torn between his sense of duty and his dismay with both his plateauing skills and the tardiness of his people, Círdan spent long days musing about the matter of shipbuilding with all the intense focus and harried sadness proper to one so old.

"Well," an elf who passed by the now quiet and dark workshop almost every day joked, "why don't you make it a really ugly ship? Challenge yourself and your well-honed skills and tastes, why won't you?"

"Ugly?" The mere idea of wilfully, consciously creating something aesthetically displeasing jolted the old shipwright wide awake in an instant.

As ludicrous as the idea sounded at first, he could not deny that there was a strange but enchanting draw to the very concept.

All his life, he had abided by the rules—patiently bearing the brunt of others' mistakes without so much as complaining—and he had never dared even consider deviating from what was strictly expected and needed from him in the name of frivolous pleasure and wicked humour.

"I shall try," he agreed and gave the passer-by a friendly nod.

As he walked along the murmuring sea, he found that he could not put this new project out of his mind.

Of course, he would hold off on depriving any willing soul of a vessel for as long as he could, but, secretly, he had to concede that it would be well-deserved if these dilly-dalliers arrived on the Blessed Shores on a ship so misshapen and unlovely that the Valar themselves would be shaken out of their peaceful stupor by the incongruous cacophony of shapes and colours.

Thus, finding no rest in any other activity, Círdan set out to find the most mottled of trees for his planks.

Throughout his more than respectable lifespan, he had known many a people and had been granted the honour of becoming intimately familiar with their visions of beauty.

Ever ambitious and dutiful in his craft, Círdan consequently decided to cobble together the most despicable and appalling elements he could think of in hopes of creating a proper eyesore.

Drawing from the sheer endless inspiration of his long life, he paid homage to friends and foes by going against every rule—written and unwritten—that defined and decided loveliness.

As the sun wheeled its way across the sky through endless days of labour, he toiled relentlessly, warping the mottled, irregularly grained wood into grotesque shapes and splashing garish paints haphazardly on boldly exposed structural elements.

Often, he was found laughing raucously to himself—as unlikely as it had seemed at the outset, Círdan felt his love for his craft revived and his own soul reinvigorated by this absurd contraption that soon grew to positively obscene dimensions and made him happier than many a gorgeous vessel he had made before.

When he finally stepped back to admire his handiwork, he had to suppress a shiver of delighted distaste—truly, he thought, this ship was a testament to his skill as much as to his bravery. It was absolutely hideous.

“Unusual style,” a young apprentice declared upon glimpsing the monstrosity. He cocked his head in earnest interest and let his hand travel along the hull slowly. “It must have been so hard to get the right fit. I surmise that she can make the crossing?”

Círdan frowned in vexation. He was a shipwright, not an artist and—no matter what challenge he had taken on within his mind—he would never have created something that would not fulfil its primary function excellently.

“A true masterpiece,” the lad exclaimed and went on inspecting the vessel eagerly. In his eyes shone a fierce love for both his craft and his master, and so Círdan could hardly resent him for having completely missed the point of this enterprise.

Círdan was, naturally, sincerely taken aback by that reaction—thus far, he had been well pleased with his shockingly unpleasing work but now, he started to doubt himself. Had he lost touch with the tastes and predilections of the times so utterly that he had been indeed mistaken in his conception of ugliness?

Moreover, the group of elves arriving at the Havens to cross the ocean never to return displayed a similar level of unprejudiced awe. Dazed, Círdan felt his hand being grasped and shaken vigorously in congratulation for his daring and innovative creation.

Sitting by the ocean, his feet in the water, Círdan watched his experiment drift out onto the open sea—she moved beautifully, as expected, because every incongruent piece had been hand-fitted into a clashing kaleidoscope of ill-assorted but meticulously balanced efficiency.

Despite all his ambitions, the ship was loved by its passengers.

Closing his eyes as he leaned back against the warm sand, Círdan decided that—one way or another—he would take this as a win.

@fellowshipofthefics Here's number 4/5 for this week.

I love the server, I love the prompts, and - of course - I truly love y'all!

This is entirely dedicated to the FOTFICS server and the brilliant people in it!

Lots of love

#og post #fotfics july event #fotfics summer stories #Círdan #Week 1 #Seaside #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #Fishing4stars

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tdcloud · 11 months ago

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Infaust is PUBLISHED!!!

Another book off the list, and can you guys believe that makes eleven? It really seems excessive to me at this point... Like what the hell, that's too many books... But more the merrier for you all, I suppose. Let's talk a little about the new title and set things up for what comes next, shall we?

A lot of you have been here for a good portion of Infaust's second stage of development. It was a project I originally conceptualized back in 2017/8ish (I think, maybe earlier) while I was still interning at one of the many museums I've worked at in my adult life. It's hard to recall exactly what precipitated the whole thing. Likely, I had stumbled upon some folklore regarding the Pied Piper and had my brain chew on it until it spat out something vaguely Infaust shaped. I do remember having the idea of a witch with a dead familiar bonding with something Wrong running around in my head in general. Merging the two made Infaust, and from there it sat in developmental hell until last year.

Infaust has seen some of the most drastic rewrites and restructurings of any of my novels to date. It was a weird story, one plotted in ways I'd never really seen examples of in my own readings, and that made it harder to figure out. It's changed quite a lot from its first draft--and if any of you are curious about that draft, just search through my Patreon til you find it, I posted it after the Patreon rewrite so readers could contrast, compare, and see for themselves what a failed story looks like on my end. Fixing this story into something readable has taken years. A lot of those years, I wasn't patient. I wasn't willing to wait until it was polished and ready like it is now. But I had to. And I did.

For as many delays as I experienced while working on this book, for as many times as I grew frustrated with matters outside of my control inhibiting me from publishing when I wanted to, I'm grateful for them. Without those roadblocks, the Infaust of today wouldn't exist. You'd be reading a much weaker story than the one you've got now, and that would just be a crying shame.

I want to say an additional thank you to a few people who helped me get to this position, to the people who trudged knee deep through the turbulent waters of developmental hell alongside me over the years, who made Infaust what it is today. My editor NIL has quite literally been there from the start. They were the first person I ever spit-balled this premise to, and they sat with me, held my hand, and slapped me upside the head numerous times as I fought to get this tragic story onto paper. Sun, as you all know, made yet another gorgeous cover for me, all while dealing with some of the most tumultuous life events a person can go through. There would be no Infaust without either of them, and their impact on this publication seeing the light of day cannot be overstated enough.

Thanks go to all of you as well. Be you patrons, readers, fans, or just excited newcomers interested in picking up a book about a maligned, sad witch boy having some of the worst days of his life... thanks. Thanks for caring, thanks for being here, and thanks for giving Infaust a chance. It means the world. I can't wait to do this all again with you soon.

Until next time,

T.D. Cloud

#infaust #update #blog

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smqazi · 27 days ago

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CONGRATULATIONS AND THANKS!

Bismillahi-Rahmanir-Raheem, بسم اللہ الرحمن الرحیم

Rabbishrah lee sadree wa yassirlee amree wahlul ‘uqdatum-mil-lithaanee, yafqahoo qawlee.

رب اشرح لی صدری و یسرلی امری واحلل عقدة من لسانی یفقھوا قولی

Amma ba’d اما بعد,

CONGRATULATIONS!

A MIRACLE HAS ALREADY HAPPENED. BY THE GRACE OF ALLAH (SUBHANAHU WA TA’ALA), H. E. CAPTAIN IMRAN KHAN CHAIRMAN PTI, AND HIS TEAM HAVE WON, WITH FULL SUPPORT FROM MILLIONS OF DEDICATED HELPLESS, POOR, SELFLESS, AND SIMPLE YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN OF PAKISTAN, WHO ARE DEVOTED TO HIS MISSION IN LIFE, ALL OVER PAKISTAN AND THROUGHOUT THE WORLD.AT LARGE, SO FAAAR!

WARNING!

آ گیا وه شاه كار تھا جس كا انتظار ، انتظار كى گھڑیاں ختم ہوئیں

بھاگو بھاگو بھاگو

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Your Passporta are ready, you have you Iqamas from you kafeel and visas from your masters and you have transferred all the loot and robber5from the helpless, the needy, the poor and the simple people of Pakistan either transferred to your overseas accounts or packed to take with you and your planes are waiting for you at the nearest. So, run and run and runs as fast as you can, with your dull and limited capabilities, get the hell out of here before it is too late; but it is never too late.

JUST THINK ABOUT, SERIOUSLY, REALLY!

All Praises are due to Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) Alone. Al-Hamdo lillahi Rabbil ‘aalameen الحمد للہ رب العالمین. May Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) bless them all, one and all, young and old, men, women and children, Ameen آمین, and reward all of them with the best of everything in both the words, Thumma Ameen

Bravo to Captain Imran Khan and his team, who worked hard with commitment and Positive Mental Attitude (PMA) and with sheer faith in Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala), Laa ilaaha illAllah لا الا الله, a commitment to Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala), and a sincere promise not to beg from anyone else and bow to anyone but God Almighty, Iyyaka wa iyyaka nast’aeen إياك نعبد و إياك نستعين.

God loves those who are steadfast” – Holy Qur'an Surah Al-e-‘Imran, 3, Ayah 146)

Say: "O My slaves who believe, be afraid of your Lord (Allah) and keep your duty to Him. Good is (the reward) for those who do good in this world, and Allah's earth is spacious! Only those who are patient shall receive their rewards in full, without reckoning.” Surah Az-Zumar, 39, Ayah 10.

Because of Yaqeen Muhkam یقیں محکم , ’Amal Paiham عمل پیہم, and Muhabbat محبت for the world, he has won the hearts of Muslim children, women and old people all over the world as their beloved leader. Thanks to Allah, the only ONE, Who gave victory to H.E. Imran Khan and his team of Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) پاکستان تحریک ان��اف.

God Almighty proved beyond a shadow of doubt that if you obey Me, have faith in Me, and trust Me, I will keep you steadfast and remove any obstacle in your marathon run of thirty (30) years to victory both as a good Captain and as a Leader, who can prove to the whole world that he is a unique and one of a kind LEADER par excellence of the Islamic World, In shaa Allah!

The good news for the whole world of Islam is the Imran Khan is going to come back soon as the New Prime Minister of New Pakistan نیا پاکستان, a new Raisat-e-Madinah نئی ریاست مدینہ , In shaa Allah.

It is his second coming to help the helpless, the needy, and the poor people of New Pakistan to get out of poverty and lead a decent life in the New Islamic Republic of Pakistan, just like in any other developed country anywhere in the world. It is just the beginning of a new coming and you haven't seen nothing yet.

Allahu (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) is going to make him the next Prime Minister, again, like he did before. The people of Makkah challenged Prophet Muhammad (SallAlllahu ‘alaihi wa Salllam) that how will Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) raise them again while they were be nothing but bones in the grave, Surah al-Qiyamah, 75, Ayaat 1-5.

So the answer given to Meccans by Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) was:

بِسۡمِ ٱللَّهِ ٱلرَّحۡمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ

In the name of Allah, the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful.

لَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِيَوۡمِ ٱلۡقِيَٰمَ, I swear by the Day of Resurrection

وَلَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِٱلنَّفۡسِ ٱللَّوَّامَةِ, And I swear by the reproaching soul [to the certainty of resurrection].

أَيَحۡسَبُ ٱلۡإِنسَٰنُ أَلَّن نَّجۡمَعَ عِظَامَهُ, Does man think that We will not assemble his bones?

بَلَىٰ قَٰدِرِينَ عَلَىٰٓ أَن نُّسَوِّيَ بَنَانَه, Yes. [We are] Able [even] to proportion his fingertips.

Please pray two Rak’at رکعات of Salatu Hajah صلواة الحاجه on behalf of Imran Khan begging Allah (Subhanah wa Ta’ala) to give courage, wisdom and strength to Imran Khan to fulfill his promises that he made to Allah (Subhanah wa Ta’ala) in the Holy Ka’bah خانہ کعبہ in Makkah Mukarramah مکہ مکرمه , and to Prophet Muhammad (SallAllahu ‘alaihi wa Sallam) in his Hujrah Mubarak حجرہ مبارک in Masjid-e-Nabwi مسجد نبوى, Madinah Munawwarah مدینہ منورہ.

As to the government officials in opposition to him, who want to get rid of him because they are jealous of his wonderful achievements inall fields of life, both here and abroad. They badly want what the Almighty has given him, but God Almighty has written curses in their fate. They are reaping what they sowed in the last thirty (30) years. May God Almighty show them the light, Ameen, and make them also good Muslims, Thumma Ameen.

Last but least, please go to the Imam امام (Khateeb خطیب) of your Mosque (Masjid) on this coming Friday and request him to pray to Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) for his health, happiness and prosperity, Ameen, and grant him the courage, the wisdom, the strength and Taufiq توفیق to be the Best Prime Minister of Pakistan for all times to come, Ameen Thumma Ameen Yaa Rabbil ‘aalameen آمین ثم آمین یا رب العالمین.

___________

SHORT

CONGRATULATIONS AND THANKS!

Bismillahi-Rahmanir-Raheem, بسم اللہ الرحمن الرحیم

Rabbishrah lee sadree wa yassirlee amree wahlul ‘uqdatum-mil-lithaanee, yafqahoo qawlee.

رباشرحلیصدریویسرلیامریواحللعقدةمنلسانییفقھواقولی

Amma ba’d اما بعد,

CONGRATULATIONS!

WARNING!

آگیاوهشاهكارتھاجسكاانتظار،انتظاركىگھڑیاںختمہوئیں

بھاگو بھاگو بھاگو

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

JUST THINK ABOUT, SERIOUSLY, REALLY!

God loves those who are steadfast” – Holy Qur'an Surah Al-e-‘Imran, 3, Ayah 146)

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ozma914 · 27 days ago

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Colon Check Brought Blood Pressure Surprise

I planned to work on a new blog during my colonoscopy prep day, but the day went, shall we say, badly. Okay, it went very badly, although the procedure the next day was a breeze (they tell me). One small polyp removed, and I only made one bad joke. ("If you find any change in there, it's mine--not a tip.")

Anyway, it seemed the most appropriate thing to do would be to reprint a blog from a little over five years ago--which was about my last colonoscopy. I'm adding one new photo, which I took this morning: The IV for the anesthetic left a mark.

I don't mind the bruise one bit, because that needle allowed me to sleep through the whole procedure.

Routine medical tests often bring nasty surprises ... not always related to the test being done. I had a colonoscopy last week. You know what that means: No need to go into details. Honestly, I don't feel bad for people getting them as much as I do for people who do them. Lots of twelve year olds probably say they want to be a doctor when they grow up. I can't imagine any of them adding, "And I want to spend all day sticking tubes up butts to check for polyps!" For patients, the fun stuff comes a day or two before, when they first go on a clear diet, then on meds that, um, clear that diet. But there's more to it, and therein lies this tale. It's about the only thing that stayed therein. A week before I had to stop taking supplements, including vitamin D (a lack of which contributed to my wintertime depression). Also aspirin, or any kind of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug, which I never knew is what NSAID is short for. Soon after that I developed a sinus headache, which I didn't worry about because if I have a sinus headache, it must be Tuesday. By the end of the next day someone was driving a railroad spike through the top of my skull, from the inside. It was every bit as bad as a migraine. But what caused it? Sinuses? Stress? Lack of vitamin D? Withdrawal from caffeine? The thought of highly trained specialists bringing in the same machine used to open up my sewer?

Then, just before the procedure, a strange thing happened. One of the techs took my blood pressure, paused, then took it again. Then she called the doctor in. He took it, then he put the BP cuff on my other arm and took it again. Then they all looked at each other. There's no typical blood pressure for everyone, but it's generally acknowledged that the bottom number--the diastolic--should be in the double digits, like around 70. My diastolic was in the triple digits. And not just barely, either. The first number, systolic, was also reaching for the stars. There's your headache.

This is what the inside of my head felt like.

My blood pressure was so high, in fact, that they almost canceled the procedure. And I did not want to go through the prep again. When I woke, the new problem hadn't changed. The next day Doctor Donna sat in the waiting room, waiting for me. "We were wondering how soon this would happen," she said (I'd been her patient for many years). She refused to tell me who won the betting pool, but she did confirm the diagnosis. She also gave me a good once over, and found it hurt whenever she tapped on the areas near my nose. I had high blood pressure and another massive sinus infection. Doctor Donna told me to reduce my stress levels. A lot. I thought about my job and laughed. Then I laughed again. Then I cried. It seems my idea to retire, and support myself by writing full time, had become a matter of life and death. But what the heck--I'm always looking for ways to guilt readers into buying books. Meanwhile I'm on two new meds, one of which makes me pee almost as much as I was doing the other thing, the day before the colonoscopy. Oh, and the results of the actual procedure? Clean as a whistle (figuratively), with nary a polyp in sight. But if they hadn't done it, my head may have exploded a week later. It seems I'm entering a new phase of my mid-life. I'll call it ... the Ailment Years.

You can find good books to read during prep here:

· Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

· Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

· Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

· Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

· Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

· Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

· Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

· Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

· Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

· Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

· Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter

· Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

· Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

· Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember: Reading can help lower your blood pressure. No, it’s true.

#humor #writing #medical humor #medical stuff #funny #colonoscopy

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drmaqazi · 7 months ago

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CONGRATULATIONS AND THANKS!

Bismillahi-Rahmanir-Raheem, بسم اللہ الرحمن الرحیم

Rabbishrah lee sadree wa yassirlee amree wahlul ‘uqdatum-mil-lithaanee, yafqahoo qawlee.

رب اشرح لی صدری و یسرلی امری واحلل عقدة من لسانی یفقھوا قولی

Amma ba’d اما بعد,

CONGRATULATIONS

! A MIRACLE HAS ALREADY HAPPENED. BY THE GRACE OF ALLAH (SUBHANAHU WA TA’ALA), H. E. CAPTAIN IMRAN KHAN CHAIRMAN PTI, AND HIS TEAM HAVE WON, WITH FULL SUPPORT FROM MILLIONS OF DEDICATED HELPLESS, POOR, SELFLESS, AND SIMPLE YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN OF PAKISTAN, WHO ARE DEVOTED TO HIS MISSION IN LIFE, ALL OVER PAKISTAN AND THROUGHOUT THE WORLD.AT LARGE, SO FAAAR!

WARNING!

آ گیا وه شاه كار تھا جس كا انتظار ، انتظار كى گھڑیاں ختم ہوئیں

بھاگو بھاگو بھاگو

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

JUST THINK ABOUT, SERIOUSLY, REALLY!

God loves those who are steadfast” – Holy Qur'an Surah Al-e-‘Imran, 3, Ayah 146) Say: "O My slaves who believe, be afraid of your Lord (Allah) and keep your duty to Him. Good is (the reward) for those who do good in this world, and Allah's earth is spacious! Only those who are patient shall receive their rewards in full, without reckoning.” Surah Az-Zumar, 39, Ayah 10.

So the answer given to Meccans by Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) was:

بِسۡمِ ٱللَّهِ ٱلرَّحۡمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ

In the name of Allah, the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful.

لَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِيَوۡمِ ٱلۡقِيَٰمَ, I swear by the Day of Resurrection

وَلَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِٱلنَّفۡسِ ٱللَّوَّامَةِ, And I swear by the reproaching soul [to the certainty of resurrection].

أَيَحۡسَبُ ٱلۡإِنسَٰنُ أَلَّن نَّجۡمَعَ عِظَامَهُ, Does man think that We will not assemble his bones?

بَلَىٰ قَٰدِرِينَ عَلَىٰٓ أَن نُّسَوِّيَ بَنَانَه, Yes. [We are] Able [even] to proportion his fingertips.

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phlistopher · 8 months ago

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Change of Blood

I wrote a humor column in college for the Hofstra Chronicle under the pseudonym Silence Doless, a nod to Benjamin Franklin I didn't come up with.

I was very proud of this work at the time. It's all very Hofstra specific, and the mid 2000s. Against my better judgement, I've decided to republish the series here.

This is the seventh cringe article, originally printed December 7th, 2007. Commentary at the end.

Last week I challenged University President Stuart Rabinowitz to a duel. The rules were simple: no lasers, no cheating and no wimping out. I waited patiently at the designated place and time, yet Rabinowitz failed to show, thus breaking two of the agreed-upon rules. I’m sure he would have broken all three if it were possible to fight with lasers while cheating and chickening out. This could have been because I said the meeting place was at the quad, and apparently there’s more than one on campus (why didn’t anyone inform me of this?! I’m looking at you, editors). That, or maybe our president is a lily-livered, yellow-bellied, pants-wetting wiener. Whatever the case may be, I hereby decide that his conduct was dishonorable. As punishment, I shall ignore him for the rest of the column.

Have you ever wanted to be something, or someone, you’re not? Have you ever thought, “Oh, if I was only this other person or had these certain attributes, everything would work out for me”? Perhaps you imagine yourself as a famous actor, thinking, “Wow, if only I was Danny DeVito my life would be great!”

Personally, I’ve always wanted to be Native American. Why, you may ask? Because it’s badass. Think of the perks. You could walk to the front of any line in the country and if anyone gives you guff just say, “I was here first!” Guaranteed to work every time. Also, you can have a lot of fun with scalping puns outside concert venues. And by “a lot of fun” I mean “have a lot of people pissed at you.” If this happens, just scalp them (by which I mean sell them a ticket…to an Atlanta Braves game! The fans will do the rest).

Native American culture is also very rich, heavily emphasizing a symbiosis with nature which has been all but lost in today’s hyper-developed society. With all these benefits, there must be a catch, right? I mean, why wouldn’t you want to become Native American?

The truth is, there is no catch. The hard part is actually changing your ethnicity. Hard, yes, but impossible? Quite possibly. But I for one am not ready to give up. What is the most essential element of ethnic identity? That’s right, blood. If blood denotes brotherhood, motherhood, sisterhood and Hepatitis C, it can damn well denote ethnicity-hood. All the clichés about blood being thicker than water affirm that this is true.

So in light of this, I propose a startling new medical operation to swap the ethnicities of two people through blood transfusions. With said blood transfusions you could exchange blood with a person of the desired ethnicity; in this case a Native American. If your doctor had a high powered compressor you could transfer large quantities of blood at a time, making it possible to become as much as half Cherokee in a single visit! Of course, you’d have to find a full-blooded Cherokee willing to become half “Crazy blood-lusting whacko wannabe.” But this is in the future, my friends. This is a future where everyone can be whatever, and whomever they want (especially Danny DeVito), whenever they want (especially 10 years ago).

Critics may argue that this is nonsense. “Why can’t people just be satisfied with who they are?” they may ask, “Besides, the technology for blood transfusions is still decades away.”

Sometimes I think they’re right. Sometimes I think, “We’re all 99.9 percent the same genetic material, what’s the difference anyway?” Then I realize that that is just the Apes talking, who would have us believe that we share 98 percent of our genetics with them. Convincing us of this would enable them to infiltrate our society, posing as Rogaine test patients (or Robin Williams) and from there, take over the world giving them free reign to finally achieve their ultimate goal: sinking the Statue of Liberty into the beach.

I would be extremely mad at those damn dirty Apes if I didn’t want to be one so bad. Man, if I was a gorilla I’d kick Rabinowitz’s ass! Those dishonorable walls won’t hide you from my 12 pound fists, shorty!

And now I’ve broken my own ignoring rules. That’s okay, at least I didn’t wimp out.

As the person who wrote this, even I have to say this is really hard to follow. Plus, even more importantly, it’s not clear enough that I’m the butt of the joke with becoming Native American, and the whole thing is again just sweaty and gross. Why am I republishing these?

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huhnkie · 2 years ago

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~~ oh well ~~

So in year 2024

*tupid Americans will vote for

*tupid presidential candidates

Like Biden Trump DeSantis

and they will get what they deserve

Yeah

*tupid Americans with their *tupid president

Doing *tupid American things

Like tattoos or piercings or obesity or lgbt or banning abortion or hating China or hating other countries or religions

Let them continue this American *tupidity all they want

...

In the meanwhile

We the smart people

We shall continue to study and focus education and diet and exercise and learn martial arts

We shall wait for our time to rise and shine

...

The old generation

The kind Who can't learn the new way

They will get old

And pass away

We will replace them

In our time

So let's be patient

Let them rule

And let us wait in patience

...

My Friends

Listen to the spirit of humanology

"Revolution never works

"What works is evolution

"People are busy with work and family

"Social change can happen only very slowly

"So you have to be very patient my Friend "

...

In the meantime

Learn martial arts

Focus on education and career development

Have a good time

Don't get into any trouble

No protest or demonstration please

Have a good peaceful hobby instead

...

Then

Perhaps 30 years later

Learn for a public office

I will endorse You and vote for You

Be the Leaders

and save the world of course

//:-D

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d0wager · 18 days ago

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alicent had always been patient, had she not? always waiting for her turn in many things. when a marriage was settled for hersel, she did not protest, a desire for the man that was now her husband clear to anyone who saw the blushing bride beside the rogue prince, nevermind his annoyed stare. but he began to share more of her time, though not all of those days were good ones. he argued with her, and something inside her wished to defend herself. she was no agent of her father in this marriage and she would prove it. but gods, any thoughts she had banished when he had kissed her.

it was heated and needing and she had a hard time following each stroke of his tongue against her mouth, but shoulders lumped in defeat at such delight. and when he took her finally as a wife, she had felt shameful at how much she had loved every moment of it. septas told many things, but her husband had been careful and attentive, and built her pleasure in ways she thought were sinful. but now she lays beside him, her hand coming first to her chest, where the little shame she had left moved her gown to cover her shoulders, if briefly and regain her breath. she wants to believe the lie when he tells her and for a moment, she closes her eyes and does. "i will not run to my father. specially not after this." she thinks her father would rather die before knowing she had finally share the man's bed.

and even more so, explain why she looked as tired as she did. "i shall believe them until they become true. or partially so." alicent is no fool. she knows how the prince sees rhaenyra, who had not share word with her since the wedding, upset perhaps, at this new development in their lives. it saddened her. but a part of her couldn't help but to have pride in that she was chosen first for once. even if daemon did not desire so. "does this mean you will share my bed now?" she asks, gaining strength to turn her body to the side as if to face him, cascade of auburn hair falling upon her chest as she speaks. "i was not expecting it tonight. . .i am not sure if I pleased you."

tell me you love me … i won't hold you to it, just say it. | @d0wager sent a raven.

another wife he did not want , chosen for him , this time , by his dear BROTHER. a match that had been meant for the king , the seed planted by the girl's CUNT of father ──── how it had BACKFIRED in the hand's face , his plan DESTROYED , had earned a chuckle from the rogue prince . . . until viserys had announced his intention to annul his brother's marriage to his BRONZE BITCH and tie him , instead , to the young hightower woman. a SLAP to the face for otto , no doubt , and daemon would laugh were he not FURIOUS.

how long he and his lady wife had skirted around one another , daemon's IRE clear as day , and yet he never strayed ──── his frequent trips to the pleasure houses had ceased , wanting to ANGER his wife's father even further. and what better way than to stay FAITHFUL to the young woman ? even if he had not yet touched her , as a husband should.

but , something had happened , along the lines. anger turned to LUST , and , having been celibate for longer than he cared to admit , daemon had become a pot boiling over. an argument had led to a heated kiss , and that heated kiss had led to the prince's walls COLLAPSING. alicent wanted him , that much was evident , had been since their wedding. and so , the rogue prince had taken his wife to bed.

now , husband and wife lie side by side in their bed , bare skin slick with sweat , chests heaving as they struggle to catch their breath. his head lolls to the side , violet eyes boring into warm brown. the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement at her words. how NAIVE she was to want him to love her.

a roll of his eyes , and he straightens his head , staring at the ceiling. " fine. if only so you may RUN to your father and tell him what he does not wish to hear ──── i love you , wife. whether you choose to BELIEVE my words is up to you. "

#bigdaddydaemon #「 ✷ 」 » interactions . / ━━ ˋ bigdaddydaemon .#「 ✷ 」 » verse . / ━━ ˋ the red brideˎˊ˗

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lostmyremembrall · 3 years ago

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༒𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝑮𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒕. 𝟑 ༒

Continuation of Oh to be in a pretty dress and have a gun

Switch! Tom Riddle x Dom! Fem! Reader Genre: Romance, smut. Summary: we just want to see Tom sex-deprived and horny af

Warning: Minors DNI. Unresolved sexual tension, Toxic relationship, objectification. Infatuation. Orgasm control. Polyamorous. Jealousy. Oral (fem receiving). Fingering. BDSM (restrained, forced to watch).

Photos aren't mine; thank you to the very talented artists.

{𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔}

Recommended music: Bubblegum Bitch slowed by Marina

youtube

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 –𝑳𝒂𝒕𝒗𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃

It was three long months before he saw you again. The longest he had gone without any release.

The first few days weeks went fairly well.

So you could imagine Tom’s irritation when he found that you have, cruelly, left bits and pieces of you in his room: the half-drunk whisky glass. The rope. The garter belt inconspicuously left underneath his pillow. Your musk.

His body was more honest than he liked to admit. Upon finding the fabric, he hardened immediately. He cursed under his breath, and left the room immediately, ordering a maid to clean and air out his room.

He’s thought of just doing it, multiple times. His everyday life managing his imbeciles was stressful enough. If seeing only hints of you were agitating enough, this new layer of added stress drove him absolutely insane. The worst part was not knowing when he would see you again.

His followers noticed the change in his mood as well. It was evident in his snappy mood, the shaking of his legs during meetings, his lingering eyes on the curves of women. He developed quite a reputation within those months as the most fickle, agitated Dark Lord that shall never be crossed.

He simply refused to admit that he had little self-restraint. Growing up in an orphanage, he was the definition of self-restraint. But sexual restraint was an all too different matter. It was always handed to him on a silver platter; with a meaningful look, some whispered words, women came running over to him. But once taken away from him, it left a devastating hole in his life.

It has been weeks of biting lips. Slapping his own thighs for any distracting sensation. Breathing deeply to fight back for control.

It was pure agony.

He was so, so, fucking horny.

So when Tom smelled your musk in the crowd of the masquerade ball, you bet his mind went all blank except for the idea of seeing you.

He whipped around. But you had already disappeared into the crowd.

“I–,” he stammered. He was just getting to the most important point of asking for support after painting a bright picture of the future. But he seemed to have completely lost his senses. “Excuse me,” was all he could say as he left, leaving Abraxas confused and apologising to the Comte de Beauvau and his wife.

Tom didn’t even care. There were plenty of nobilities everywhere across the globe: just self-aggrandising pricks with fancy titles. He drifted away from the crowd and into one of the more desolate corridors of the Beauvau castle. He guessed that if you were going to approach him, it wasn’t going to be in front of others.

His breathing shallowed, he waited patiently. He simply couldn’t wait to see you.

So when he smelled a hint of chloroform on the handkerchief pressed to his nose, you can bet he smiled blissfully and inhaled a lungful of air.

He was awakened rather unpleasantly. With a punch to his jaw.

Tom chuckled. It’s been a long time since he’s received a punch. But that didn’t even bother him. The idea of your fist was enough to make him grin like a madman. Tom tasted the bitter taste of his blood in his mouth and spat out to the side, careful not to dirty your dress.

He was sitting on a chair, in some empty room, tied to a chair. He was thankful he was sitting this time, as nausea and dizziness from chloroform were settling in. The burning heat in his nose and the back of his throat was unpleasant enough to almost bring a sting of tears to his eyes.

So you can guess the shock on his face when he looked up to find not you, but a pair of men towering in front of him. A look of confusion crossed his face.

One man was a silver blond-haired man, with a serious look, judging his worth. His calculating eyes flickered between his eyes, trying to read him. Tom subconsciously raised his occlumency shield. The brunet was a bit taller, a large scar evident on his right hand. His knuckle was bruised. His devilish, wild eyes roamed over Tom. Tom took him to be the violent-tempered one that just punched him.

They were both handsome, Tom decided; their expensive tailored suits helped. But not as much as himself. The clothes didn’t compliment Tom Riddle; no, he complimented them.

“Who are you two?” The confusion on Tom’s face transfigured into alarm when they remained completely silent. The two seemed to be cherishing Tom’s bewilderment. The knowing look from the men did not help at all to ease his worries.

“Where is she?” Tom’s voice was raspy; starting to assess the possibility that this was a completely unrelated event.

“Sweet of you to worry,” a cool voice echoed.

Tom heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing your voice. Tom’s eyes searched the dark room. The sound of your stilettos against the cold floor causing his pants to tighten again. He swallowed hard. His chest heaving at the idea of the long wait, the agonising three months finally coming to an end.

You stepped out of the dark. You were wearing a black dress again; the fabric sparkled with your every step. Straps from your dress adorned your beautiful neck and your shoulders, reminding him of a cage. At your neck, your family crest tied the dress together. Your eyes were framed by a black mask made of a delicate arabesque pattern.

Tom clenched his fists and released them. Wishing to get himself out of this damn rope, but knowing full well its consequences.

“He would have come running like a pup if you called,” the blond’s cool voice responded disinterestedly, still eyeing Tom, his voice deeper than what his lean appearance gave way. “He took a lungful of chloroform.”

Tom snarled at the man. Being compared to a dog made his blood boil. Enough to make him forget about you or what he was there for.

“Really?” your voice responded, amused. Tom’s head snapped to yours. Your expression was completely unreadable as she took slow steps toward you.

“You missed me that much?” you circled around his chair like a shark.

His glare followed you. “Cut me loose,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Go ahead,” You said nonchalantly. Tom’s eyes followed you as you stopped in front of him. “I’m sure you can manage.”

Tom stayed silent, mulling his options over. He knew perfectly well what disentangling the rope signified.

It did not help when you placed your arms around the back of his neck. Tom sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, forcing himself to restrain the shiver that ran down his spine. It has been so agonisingly long since you last touched him. But it did not stop there. Never taking your eyes off of him, you slowly lowered yourself until you were sitting on his lap. The heat from your core emanated to his thigh. “Although,” you leaned in closer and gently moved a strand of hair out of his face.

You smiled as Tom looked up to you, infatuated. “I think we all know you actually like being tied up.” If chloroform had made him dizzy, he was definitely awake now.

Tom did not move. He couldn’t. Not after this. Afraid that staring at you will blind him. But afraid that taking his eyes off you will lead to something worse. Did she know the effect she had on him? Tom wondered, conscientious of the heat in his crotch. It was then when your lips curled into that smile of a merciful goddess. Yes, Tom concluded. She definitely knew.

You gently wiped the trail of blood from the corner of his lips, “Have you been a good boy?” you whispered. Tom's eyes involuntarily fluttered shut at your saccharine words.

Your sweet smile was enough to make him forget where he was, who he was, what he was there for. What the question even was.

Suddenly, your hand grasped his chin, squeezing his cheeks together. Tom winced in pain, knowing that your fingers would leave a print on his reddened cheek where he was punched. Still, he did not move away.

Merciful as she may be, his goddess was an austere one.

A snicker brought him out of your spell. His eyes left yours to find the auburn-haired man, still standing where you left him, stifling laughter.

Tom felt his cheeks redden, and thank god at least one of them was bruised enough to make his blush inconspicuous. He forced his face out of your grip, allowing him to whisper into your ear out of the man’s earshot, “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman who knows better than to hit a woman.” He said through gritted teeth in a voice enough to make the tallest of men cry and flee.

But of course, knowing him for years, you have grown immune to his threats. Your eyes flickered in between his, trying to read the depths of his eyes. “Alright,” you finally said, which caused a victorious smile to spread on his lips. “Eridanus,” you called to the man, your eyes refusing to leave his.

The silver blond moved swiftly without a word. With one last look, you stood up. Tom chose to ignore the yearning the absence of your heat left behind. Gracefully, you sat on the chair prepared by Eridanus, he assumed. Eridanus sat on the floor by your skirt.

“Have at it, Atticus,” you said coolly.

Atticus drew out his crooked wand from inside his blazer, and pointed square at Tom’s head. The goddess had forsaken him. From the look on his face, he seemed really happy to see Tom go.

Tom shifted in his chair, the scraping chair echoed. “Hang on,” his voice was strained. This was not part of the deal. Tom bit his tongue at the hint of panic that involuntarily laced his words.

Now fully awake from the delirium named after you. God. How long has it been since he was this afraid?

Your expression was now blank. “What?”

“Stop this nonsense,” Tom spluttered, his eyes flickering between you and the wand pointed in between his eyes.

“What happened to I want to be murdered by you?” exhaustion lacing your words.

No, It was boredom. You were actually bored at the prospect of watching him die.

He pursed his lips, restraining himself from slandering your name. “I said you. Not your servant scums.”

“Atticus could end it for you in one swift motion, or you'll take it as long as I’d like. Choice is yours,” The empty eyes, the likes of which he’s never seen on you in Hogwarts, pierced through him, deadpan.

“But know this, Tom Riddle. I will end you.”

He shuddered at the dread pooling in his stomach. He’s seen rage, madness, blindness in the eyes of those determined to kill him. But there was nothing far scarier than seeing apathy in your eyes as you just sentenced him to death.

Did his death not warrant even a bit of excitement?

Your meaningful look reached Eridanus, who immediately shot up to his knees. He scraped his knees in his expensive fabric against the floor to sit in front of you. Tom’s jaw dropped when you raised your skirt and Eridanus’ head disappeared into it.

It dawned on him. You were going to make him watch. The audacity. The cruelty. That bitch.

As suspected, your eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss. So he wasn’t the only one.

“I’ll have you know,” It was Atticus who jumped in this time. Shaking in rage, paying no heed to the scandal that was occurring in the same room. “My blood is true and blue, you mudblood scum.”

Thick-skulled yet not so thick-skinned. Tom rolled his eyes. How many of those he had come across in his life.

“Sorry, your incestuous scums,” Tom corrected himself, muttering under his breath darkly. He did not even grant a glance to Atticus. He couldn’t care less about the man’s wounded pureblood ego.

His eyes were trained on you. Your left hand was gripping onto the armchair, knuckles going white. Your right was interlaced in Eridanus’ silver hair, gripping his hair as his lips made love to your cunt. Eridanus’ strong hand gripped your thigh, keeping them open as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you.

There was something shocking beyond the obvious vulgar display of power. It was a realisation, that you truly weren’t his anymore. Tom had no idea what took him this many years to fully accept that. But there was something distressing about watching his possession defiled like that. Tom stared at where his head used to be just a few years ago.

Perhaps, you were never truly his.

“All you have to do is ask, Tom,” you breathed out, your eyes still shut tight. “For once in your life, be honest with me.”

He snapped. “I am not going to beg you,” his boiling rage echoing in the empty room.

He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to be honest with himself.

Atticus and Eridanus were, perhaps rightfully, enraged at Tom’s outburst at their master. Atticus’ eyes drifted to yours, just begging to slit his throat. Eridanus had actually stopped working on your cunt. His tongue retreated and he shifted his head for silent, reprimanding eyes to land on Tom. A string of saliva connected your exposed cunt to his parted lips.

His heart jolted upon seeing it. Fit of jealousy clouded his vision.

He could get out of this rope, he thought as you ordered Atticus to stand down and Eridanus returned to his work. It won’t take much effort for him to magically cut the rope, push Eridanus out of his way, and use your cunt right there and then in front of your manservants. To reclaim his possession.

It was his rightful reward after the painstaking three months.

But, there was something that glued him to the chair. The new position of Eridanus allowed him a full view of now two fingers entering you. Your breath hitched as Eridanus’ lips returned to your clit.

Jesus christ. Tom’s eyes drifted away from the sight, wanting to look anywhere but that. It was like he was invisible. But his eyes kept returning to you. Tom’s eyes roamed over your body. He swallowed hard. His eyes glazed over. He could just taste your cunt.

"Fuck," Tom cursed under his breath as he noticed that familiar feeling in his pants, so desperate to be released.

He fought for control. But it was impossible. It was slipping away however hard his ego and reason tried to maintain. Your brows furrowed in concentration as your eyes bore into the eyes of Eridanus. His eyes took you in, worshipping the convulsing goddess that he was creating. Tom bit down on his lip at the erection that was becoming far too painful. Your cunt dripped shimmering juice down to the chair, down your legs, down Eridanus’ throat and shirt. His eyes closed, Eridanus tasted you blissfully as if the nectar was his sole sustenance. Saliva pooled in Tom’s mouth. Your chest heaved faster and faster. Tom’s fists clawed at the air behind his back. You moaned. Tom’s hips buckled. His cock reaching for your warmth.

With a mind of its own, Tom’s hips started to thrust into the air, like the poor, helpless animal he was. The chair rattled. The ropes chafed against his skin. Three fucking months. He was so close. Yet so far. He hated it.

Your toes curled. Tom clenched his teeth. That was the usual sign that it was coming. The men were all losing control, watching you in your own mess, desperately grinding against Eridanus’ face for friction. The air thick with the musk of your arousal. The magic in the air rising and rising–.

“Stop.”

Perhaps he wasn’t too far from an animal after all.

A raspy voice escaped his lips, barely recognisable as his own. It was the voice of a desperate, defeated man who was willing to do anything. A man in denial surrendering through gritted teeth.

And he was willing to do anything in the world if it meant he didn’t have to see you orgasm at the hands of another man.

Eridanus paused again and turned around to face Tom, wiping away the glistening juice from his lips with his fist. Tom was too furious to smile smugly at the sight of you clearly frustrated at the end that never came.

“I–,” he swallowed. With all the attention on him, the words came out strangled at the back of his throat.

You crossed your legs. Tom shifted in his chair, already missing the beautiful sight of your cunt.

"You can go,” you didn’t even look at them. Your eyes were trained on him as you massaged your chin in your fingers, trying to read through his sincerity. Without a word, Atticus and Eridanus left the room.

“I want you–,” his voice faltered. It was much more difficult to say to your face when you were closer. But still, you shortened the distance. With your soft fingers, you lifted up his chin, peering into his soul, urging him to continue.

His voice diminishing with every word. His confidence wavering with every second. “I–, I need you to kill me,” he finally breathed out. A helpless look adorned his face.

“As slowly as you can,” he added in a murmur, his eyes cast downwards in shameful defeat and admittance of his bodily desire.

You hummed, satisfied with his plea. Tom let you twist his head from side to side as you observed him. “It’s a good thing you have so much life in you.” He was told that often; he wouldn't have survived the orphanage if it weren't for his body's desperation for self-preservation.

“You’ll last through several deaths.” His heart skipped a beat in trepidation, watching a smirk spread on your lips.

Wandering if he signed a contract with the devil herself.

A/N: Would pegging be too far? Or would you rather see Tom fucked by Eridanus and reader watching/joining? Or something else you'd like to see? Or have I already gone too far and you’d prefer a bit less intense? Lmk!

I personally don’t like the word cunt, but I feel like Tom would have no problem using derogatory terms.

I've been getting the most reaction out of smuts than any other fics. I guess we're all also horny af for Tom. Thanks for all the encouragement.

It's only going to get more intense from here on.

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lordofthestrix · 2 years ago

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The tribrid's quaint case of vanishing howling under the nights of New Orleans became substantially more interesting all of the sudden. For once during these reunions, Tristan's attention no longer lingered on her. "...It must be the first mildly intriguing action attributed to him in centuries. And without extending me an invitation, no less. I can only surmise the agreement between us offended him somehow." The rest of his conclusions remained unspoken for now. Captured in a measured silence as he returned to her bearing the gifts of more assured information. "Kingmaker Land Development, easily recognizable by the scribe of what attempts to be a crown in its logo, constitutes the dominion of a vampire by the name of Lucien Castle. You already know of my connection to Elijah. You are aware my beloved sister was the first to gain her immortality thanks to Rebekah's blood. Lucien is, so to speak, the third and far less remarkable side of our trinity. Your father's first." He offered as introduction before steering the conversation towards the immediate point of intrigue his name entailed. "Werewolves may be a rare sight compared to my own species but one hardly necessitates to infiltrate your picturesque city in order to kidnap a couple, if that's what you intend to do for one reason or another. Even if shrouded for the moment, his boldness speaks of unmistakable provocation. And yet Lucien isn't the type to sacrifice his life for any cause. You could evoke the image of a rodent hiding in the walls. Patiently waiting for greater predators to fall asleep in order to dig its teeth into their necks. The overcompensating ego he developed throughout the ages is unparalleled but as a general rule he doesn't provoke fights he knows he can't win. Why then, he appears to be taunting you of all people..." The sentence was left unfinished in the current lack of immediate explanation.

"Be it as it may, if your family already opposes our deal as passionately as they do, it is reasonable to assume they would prefer to step in and attend to this matter in your stead." A recovery of their usual ways. The shadow of a smirk and the slightly, openly challenging insinuation of complicity. "Shall we stop here?"

continued from xx

She knew better than to interrupt Tristan while he mused, grandiosity dripping from every pore as though he believed he were speaking the word of whatever higher power was out there. Or maybe he believed he was the higher power. Either way, Hope let him ramble, and if she bared her teeth that Tristan's offhand comment that she was still seen as the weakest link, well her pride was certainly intact still. Still, nothing the elder vampire said sparked any sort of familiarity, nor did it narrow down her search. Her family had enemies that they probably didn't even know of, and those blind spots were making her even more agitated than usual.

A slow calm crawled over her as Tristan mentioned the disappearing wolves that she had also been dealing with for a few months. Enough to be concerned and the Pack was circling the wagons and being even more mistrustful than ever. It had been a struggle and a half to get them to talk about even the tiniest details and even then, she could sense their wariness around Hope and her changes. "They're being hunted. Methodical, trained. Military or some type of law enforcement," she bit out, her mood even more sour as she thought about the wolves that were still waiting on her to come through. "We managed to grab a patrol a few weeks ago, and one of them told us what he knew. Wasn't much. Hired off the internet, never met any big boss. The only useful thing we have is the name 'Kingmaker Land Development'. Whoever runs it has hidden their tracks well."

Her eyes cut to him as soon as she mentioned the name, searching for any type of reaction that would give her more information. "Do you think the wolves and this new enemy are connected?" / @lordofthestrix

#Cursedbcrn #Returning to our s3 never happening/ Hollow Hope au a million years later.#Apologies for the delay!#I was in a sort of semi-hiatus.

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dat-town · 4 years ago

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not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least. However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy. He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

#han seo jun x reader #seojun x reader #han seojun #han seo joon #true beauty #stories #i just wanted to give him a happy end after ep16 #that's what this is about

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smqazi · 27 days ago

Text

CONGRATULATIONS AND THANKS!

Bismillahi-Rahmanir-Raheem, بسم اللہ الرحمن الرحیم

Rabbishrah lee sadree wa yassirlee amree wahlul ‘uqdatum-mil-lithaanee, yafqahoo qawlee.

رب اشرح لی صدری و یسرلی امری واحلل عقدة من لسانی یفقھوا قولی

Amma ba’d اما بعد,

CONGRATULATIONS!

WARNING!

آ گیا وه شاه كار تھا جس كا انتظار ، انتظار كى گھڑیاں ختم ہوئیں

بھاگو بھاگو بھاگو

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

JUST THINK ABOUT, SERIOUSLY, REALLY!

God loves those who are steadfast” – Holy Qur'an Surah Al-e-‘Imran, 3, Ayah 146)

So the answer given to Meccans by Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) was:

بِسۡمِ ٱللَّهِ ٱلرَّحۡمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ

In the name of Allah, the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful.

لَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِيَوۡمِ ٱلۡقِيَٰمَ, I swear by the Day of Resurrection

وَلَآ أُقۡسِمُ بِٱلنَّفۡسِ ٱللَّوَّامَةِ, And I swear by the reproaching soul [to the certainty of resurrection].

أَيَحۡسَبُ ٱلۡإِنسَٰنُ أَلَّن نَّجۡمَعَ عِظَامَهُ, Does man think that We will not assemble his bones?

بَلَىٰ قَٰدِرِينَ عَلَىٰٓ أَن نُّسَوِّيَ بَنَانَه, Yes. [We are] Able [even] to proportion his fingertips.

0 notes

joyfulhopelox · 4 years ago

Text

The Weasel and The Serpent

Summary: When Yoongi, a halfblood, enters Hogwarts he lies about being a pureblood and is welcomed into the elite of the Slytherin House. Yoongi spends the whole of his school life upholding this lie, terrified of being exposed. Until one day, Jimin's cousin, the loud and rambunctious Y/N enters his life and gradually breaks down the walls that he had tried so hard to build. Can the weasel and the serpent learn to co-exist?

Pairing: Slytherin!Yoongi x reader (Hogwarts!au)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: light swearing

Word count: 13.2k

Rating: pg

A/N: Welcome to the first instalment of the Hogwarts for @homeofbangtan collab!

I want to thank everyone in the collab for being amazing and patient and incredibly lovely! @mochi-molala for being the catalyst of this fic, @min-yoon-kween for being an amazing support and beta reader and @ttaetae for this amazing banner. @delacyrose224 @alpacaparkaseok @joheunsaram @sunshinejunghoseokie @ggukcangetit for being an amazing squad!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Who would have thought you would end up here? Knees bruised on the cold wet tiles, bent over, heartbroken and desperate. If at the beginning of the year someone would have said you’d be in this position, you would’ve laughed at them. But there you were, on your knees, watching helplessly, as the person that had become your everything suffering on the wet bathroom floor. The mournful sobs wrecking his body echoed through you, rendering you speechless. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Yoongi’s sobs you were witnessing, you would’ve thought it was Moaning Myrtle doing her usual rounds in the bathroom.

You willed yourself to move. The sound of your robes trailing through the murky water were muffled by the anguished cries and heart wrenching sobs. You felt powerless and it scared you. The feeling gripped at your heart tighter and tighter until you felt like you could not breathe.

How ironic is it, you thought, that when you first met him you were in the exact same position that he was in now. Yet, at the time, he knew exactly what to tell you, as if you’d been friends for a long time. This trait he possessed; the ability to read someone so well and yet be so detached from everyone, had made him popular in your year.

Everyone liked Yoongi, his aloof personality a complete contrast from his soft looks. With his coal black hair and pale white skin a contradiction to his soft lips and plump cheeks, it was hard to not be intrigued by him. Yet, for some reason you chose to keep him at an arm’s length. He became your cousin’s friend quite quickly. It was Park’s gift; having the ability to make friends and break hearts left and right. However, being the rising star of the Slytherin house, he made enemies just as quickly. But the relationship between him and Yoongi developed so quickly, you didn’t even see it coming. One day Jimin was loitering around the corridors being his dramatic self with only Taehyung to keep him in check. Next you run into him and Taehyung and Yoongi. They were whispering secretively to each other and you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to intervene.

“Oi, Cocky Park, why are you acting like a bunch of gossip girls?” you shouted at him across the corridor. The three of them jumped apart in surprise and glanced at you, each face looking similar to a kid’s having been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Satisfied at the reaction you got, you sauntered over to them.

“So, what’s the deal?” your grin intensified when Jimin’s flustered face morphed into an annoyed one. It meant you had done your job. You were cousins on your father’s side, but in reality you acted more like siblings. You grew up together, always around each other, your father and his attending meetings together. So of course in true sibling fashion, it was necessary to rile up the other.

Taehyung glanced at the both of you, knowing that if he did not intervene there would be bloodshed. “Hey, Y/N, uhhhh, we were just talking” he tried to distract you from the situation at hand. You tapped your foot impatiently, an eyebrow raised unimpressed and urged him to continue. “About what?”

Before Taehyung could say anything, Jimin stepped up, “Nothing that concerns you lesser Park, so run along to your clique” he smirks at you, his hand gesture dismissing you. You huff in annoyance.

“Cocky Park!” You warn glaring at him stepping closer to his frame. He was by no means tall, only a few inches taller than you, and you liked to remind him of that every single day knowing that it drove him up the wall. “I’ll tell mother about that one time you set the family portrait on fire just because-” Jimin instantly covered your mouth, not wanting to be exposed in front of his friends like that.

“Ok ok ok, enough,” He pleaded, your laugh muffled and your eyes displaying the satisfaction you felt at his distress. You had won this battle and you savoured every moment of it. “Take a chill pill J-Park.” Noticing the third person next to the double trouble of the Slytherin house you paused. “Oh, new friends?” You pointed towards the silent man behind them. During the whole interaction between the three of you he hadn’t said anything, his dark eyes meticulously observing the scene before him.

You decided it was rude of you to not introduce yourself. You may have a loud personality and be opinionated to the point of aggression sometimes but you couldn’t forget the etiquette that your parents instilled in you. Especially in front of a fellow Slytherin, so with a confident grin you stepped around the two clowns of the house and extended your hand out.

“I’m Y/N.” The stranger looked wearily at your hand before hesitantly extending his. You don’t wait for his hand to reach yours, grabbing it mid rise and waiting for him to tell you his name. Only for a drawn out silence to ensue. You give his cold hand a small encouraging squeeze, urging him to say something. Noticing the shift in atmosphere Jimin stepped up next to you grabbing your forearm.

“Y/N, Yoongi. Yoongi, Y/N” he quickly said whilst pulling your hand away from the hold. You eye your cousin suspiciously but decide to not say anything. Instead you look at Yoongi and offer him what you hope is a friendly smile. “ Nice to meet you Yoongi. Well I have to go back now, I have practice” you turn on your heels prepared to leave. But before you could rush off you stop abruptly as if you’ve remembered something. Turning back, you point to Yoongi’s hands, making the boy take a small step back at your abruptness. “Make sure to wear gloves Yoongi, it may still be autumn but the castle is cold and your hands are freezing.” With a wink you then turn your attention towards Jimin, pointing threateningly at him.

“And you, you better not be late for practice, Outdated Park. We can’t afford to lose in front of Jeon again so get your ass on the pitch on time or I'll tell Sunny about your massive-“ Jimin’s cheeks turned red instantly and he almost shoves you down the corridor desperate to not let you finish that sentence.

“I get it, now move your troublesome ass out of here,” he pleaded. Laughing you wave at the three of them one more time before you rush down the corridor to meet up with the rest of the Quidditch team.

That was the first time you saw Yoongi, not as tragic as the second time; where he stumbled upon you in a dimly lit corridor. You took refuge there after receiving an unsettling letter from your parents. Said letter, now suspiciously damp, dangled from your hands when he found you. Even though your face showed no sign of distress, if there was someone who could read emotions well it would’ve been apparent. Yoongi was that someone.

He approached you silently, cautiously. As if he was afraid his presence would set off the feelings you were trying so hard to suppress. He observed your blank face for a second, his face not giving away any of his thoughts. You knew he was there and yet, you did not move. You couldn’t, the fear and pain gripping at your heart making you immobile. The letter you had just read replayed in your mind constantly.

‘Our daughter,

As this year happens to be the last year of your studies, we have decided that it is time for us to think about your future. Your father and I have decided that once you have finished your exams you shall be coming back home to Murkwood Manor where you will be spending the summer attending galas thrown by esteemed families. We are pleased to have come to the conclusion that for your sake and progress into the pureblood society, a convenient marriage is the best option and what better place to find such connections than there?

We hope that you can see how much we are thinking about you and understand our worries about your future.

Your everloving parents.’

You tried to forget the words staining the white paper, but it proved to be difficult. You knew the day would come, you and Jimin having been primed for this since you were children. Unlike Jimin, who would have more freedom of choice as he was to inherit his parents’ manor, you were doomed to enter an arranged marriage. As a pureblood it had always been your duty. Before you understood what that meant, as a romantic, you used to be excited at that prospect. Your brain came up with scenarios similar to ones in books about wizards in arranged marriages and living happily ever after.

Once you grew up, the excitement morphed into apprehension. The prospect of being tied to someone you did not willingly choose was daunting. To receive a letter informing you of your imminent fate crushed you.

Yoongi let out a soft breath, the sound loud enough to break the silence between the two of you. You knew you had to acknowledge him and yet, you could not bring yourself to. You barely knew each other, but as soon as he crouched next to your slumped form, a hesitant hand reaching out for yours the dam broke. You didn’t know or care if his touch was the push you needed or if the tumultuous feelings running through you became too much. You let yourself weep, not caring about the man tightening his grip on your hand witnessing it.

Normally your mother’s voice would be ringing in your head, telling you that your behaviour was unladylike, that someone of your status should not act like this. But the cold touch enveloping your trembling hand offered you the comfort you needed to let go.

Though only a few minutes had passed they felt like an eternity to you, your violent sobs dissolving into sniffles, too tired to carry on. Unknowingly, your hand sought out the reassurance of Yoongi’s hand, your fingers now intertwined. He let you cry it out, not saying a word, but his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. Had he not been an expert at hiding his feelings, you would have been able to see the sadness he felt displayed across his face. He could not fathom why you would be sitting on the stone cold ground, knees drawn to your chest, shivering and looking so...broken.

When your sniffles ceased you looked up at him, your face red and blotchy from crying. He didn’t ask, his understanding eyes only watched you as you tried to gather your thoughts. He didn’t ask and yet, you couldn’t help but tell him. Tell him of the fate that waited for you once you graduated. There was something about the way he looked at you, a comfort you found in his gentle gaze that you couldn’t help yourself. Hiccuping you let it all spill out, his grasp on your hands becoming your strength to carry on.

“Your parents don’t define who you are, you define who you are. Whatever you are feeling, going through and your future, your parents will not be with you forever. And if you spend most of your time pleasing them, when they are gone you will start resenting everything that you have become.”

With that Yoongi wordlessy let go of your hand and slipped out of the bathroom leaving you with a tear stained grubby face slumped on the bathroom floor.

For a few days after that you tried avoiding Yoongi like the plague. Too embarrassed at your outburst you found yourself leaving the Great Hall when he would enter, turning your head the other way when you happened to make eye contact in class and avoiding any conversation that brought him up. If anyone noticed your odd behaviour towards him they did not say a word. He didn’t try to approach you, and no one in your House mentioned anything about it, and so after that first week you relaxed. Your cousin, however, did notice and when he tried to approach you about it you dismissed it as not having enough free time with the Quidditch game around the corner.

“Y/N, you do know I am on the same team as you right?” Jimin’s use of your full name indicated he was serious about the conversation. Sighing your shoulders slumped, you were feeling tired of hiding around. After letting it all out in front of Yoongi, it felt like all your body wanted to do was shout out to the world how exhausted you were of being a member of a pureblood family. No one would understand you better than Jimin would.

“I’m just tired, Chim.” Jimin faltered, his seriousness melted into worry at the sound of your voice. You sounded meek, the exhaustion clear on your face. Jimin was never one for emotional display, but he was your cousin, he was your family, he was like your brother. He offered you the comfort that you sought, placing his arms around you. You didn’t wait for him to speak, the unasked question hanging above you like the ghosts roaming around the castle.

“I’m getting married.” At your words you felt Jimin stiffen. He knew what you were talking about, it was a long tradition in pureblood families. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, if only to keep the bloodline pure; so it was only a matter of time before this happened to you as well. He was lucky, as the male of the family, he had more freedom than you but that also didn’t mean he could marry just anyone. “Who?” Was all he asked and you took a moment to recollect yourself, wondering if the mention of the rival School in the tournament would be a bad idea. “Who, Y/N?”

You stepped away from him, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Someone from Beauxbatons. I don’t even know his face. Just his name. And I am supposed to live the rest of my life with this person.” You felt the tears gather in your eyes but you knew you couldn’t cry. Even if it was just Jimin, the rest of the courtyard was completely void of students, your pride stopped you from letting all your emotions flow. Yoongi caught you at your most vulnerable and since that day you swore to yourself you would never let it happen again. If anyone were to witness it and your parents to get wind of it, you would be reprimanded, possibly even punished.

Jimin felt the shift in you, your vulnerable demeanour instantly covered up by a cold emotionless wall. He tried to say something, anything to prevent that shift but he couldn’t bring himself to. He understood why you would do that; as a pureblood the expectation to be impeccable was high, and the slightest slip would end in punishment. Not wanting to push you towards an emotional breakdown he did what he normally did best and distracted you from your misery. Gripping your shoulders he smirked at you, “come on Park 2.0, we need to get on that pitch today and win.”

The sight of the Quidditch pitch along with your peers cheering and chanting, instantly calmed you. This was your home, on your broom, ready to kick some ass. Today was the game against the Gryffindor team and the contrast between the green of your House and the red of Gryffindor House formed an enchanting colour palette. The Team Captain was yelling instructions left and right, discussing the strategy once more but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be up in the air and hit a few Bludgeons to vent your frustrations out. As soon as your Team is given the go ahead you kick off onto your broom. The feel of the air brushing your face and the sound of your teammates yelling encouragement to each other giving you the adrenaline that you needed to get your head in the game.

The chants fuelled you, dodging a Bludger here, slamming your bat into it, sending it into the direction of a chaser, your head never left the game. The dynamics of the group, the teamwork, they all made you proud to be part of the team. From time to time, your eyes would wander towards the bleachers, taking in the crowd. Your fellow Slytherins were cheering as loudly as they could, chanting everyone’s name. You rolled your eyes, of course the loudest yells would come from the Gryffindor side. Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jungkook were favourites and so, their names would be on every lion’s lips. A quick break from the referee allowed you to catch your breath, high fiving with your fellow beater. You were crushing this. Taking in a deep gulp of air to calm down your heartbeat you scanned the crowd once again, only to make eye contact with a dark haired Slytherin who seemed to be watching you intently. You smiled hesitantly, confused at his presence, Yoongi had never been the one to watch the Quidditch games, but his presence gave you confidence that everything would be alright.

The game wasn’t going in your favour, Gryffindor had a good chance at winning, everyone on the edge of their seats for the end of the match. Suddenly you saw Jimin and Jungkook diving towards the ground, neck to neck and you knew that they'd spotted the Snitch. Breath caught in your throat, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jimin turns at the last minute, rising back up leaving Jungkook behind. In his hand he held the Snitch. The triumphant yell of the crowd switches from the Slytherin crowd towards the Gryffindor team and you lower your head dejected. Jimin may have caught the Snitch, but Gryffindor House had already won enough points to win the game without it. Sighing you turned towards your team, their hopelessness could be felt throughout the pitch. It wasn’t their fault, they’d played a good game, so in an attempt to cheer them up you started clapping. Soon, the crowd all caught onto what you were doing and joined in and quickly, what could have turned into a disastrous end for the team morale ended up quite the opposite. You turned yourself towards the crowd, the smile on your face widening at the sight of your fellow Slytherins cheering for you. In that moment you swore you didn’t look through the crowd for a particular person, but your eyes found his and your grin widened. Yoongi was clapping along with everyone else, his reassuring gaze never leaving yours. Suddenly you didn’t feel like you lost anymore, instead, you felt like a winner.

Under normal circumstances, the days after the game were the hardest to endure. This time however, the atmosphere felt lighter than even before the match. After the game ended and the team went back to change out of their uniform, your Team Captain held a speech about pride and defeat. That, along with the cheers from the crowd, lessened the sting of the loss and you promised yourselves that you will do better for the next one. However, classes and your professors waited for no one. With only a few weeks left until Christmas break the number of assignments kept rising, and the pressure of your N.E.W.Ts looming above your head forced you to spend every possible waking moment inside the library, your head stuck in a book. Despite being a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw, you did enjoy studying. You were never alone whilst in there, especially now that Jimin and that Hufflepuff were spending more and more time in the library together. You got first hand experience of their budding relationship. Both of them being very much interested, yet both of them being very much oblivious.

It was during one of those days in the library when Yoongi approached you. The library was already full with students trying to cram a last minute essay. You were no better, your Potions essay due that afternoon, you tried to get as much done as possible. Writing about the properties of Amortentia was not a pleasant experience. Scribbling furiously, you bit your lip in concentration, not even noticing the silent dark haired man that sat down in front of you.

“You’re going to break your quill if you carry on writing like that.” His remark made you jump out of your skin, dropping your quill to the ground and knocking your ink over the sides of the table in the process. “Ah, shit.” You muttered as you tried to blot your parchment with your robes. Yoongi jumped out of the seat, hurrying to help you salvage your work, muttering his apologies to you incessantly. “It’s okay, no problem.” You smiled at him, you were not really upset, you knew your essay could be done better and maybe a restart is what you needed. “You actually did me a favour.” Confused, Yoongi glanced at your paper. “Isn’t it due today?” He motioned towards how much you’ve written, “and that looks like a lot of research to me.” Waving him off you sat back down and got out another piece of parchment.

“It wasn’t that good to begin with. Potions is not my strongest suit so I could probably do with rewriting it. There’s only so much, ‘and boom they fall in love’ that you can describe.” You laughed at Yoongi’s expression. He looked offended at your statement, and you took the time to admire his expressions. Never one to express too many feelings, at least not in your presence, it felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn’t help but wonder what caused the change in behaviour. “Wait, a Slytherin, not good at Potions?” He mock gasped at you and you laughed. He looked a lot younger, freer this way and you couldn’t help but take in this carefree Yoongi. As you stared at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled; his wide grin making his round cheeks puff out, you felt your heart speed up, and butterflies start fluttering in your stomach. “I know right?!” You carried on with his joke, not wanting this lighthearted atmosphere to end. “Appalling.” He nodded trying to look serious. You tried to hold in your laugh but when your eyes met, you couldn’t stop yourselves and burst out laughing.

“Shhhhhh.” The angry librarian loomed over the both of you and you bowed your heads in apology still trying to stifle your laughter. “Well, that is that… now you know my darkest secret.” So absorbed in getting your books together, you didn’t notice the way Yoongi stiffened. “I am bad at Potions, and it’s my final year and there is no way I can do anything about it now.” When you carried on, Yoongi relaxed a small smile thrown into your direction. “Would….you don’t have to, but would you like some help? I may not be the best….” You perked up instantly as soon as he said that, not even letting him finish you quickly grabbed his hand and nodded. “Nonsense. You are one of the best in our year!” You noticed the slight redness that crept up Yoongi’s cheeks and you smirked. “And I heard that you are going to be interning for the Auror Office at the end of school! I would be honoured if you helped me!” Sensing his hesitation, you paused for a second, trying to think of a way to make him feel more comfortable about it when an idea suddenly hit you. “How about an exchange?” You looked at him hopefully, his eyes roaming over your face trying to understand what you were proposing. “As in, is there anything that you may need help with?” You clarified and Yoongi nodded, finally understanding what you meant. He didn’t reply for a while and you started to get uncomfortable under his gaze. Shifting uneasily in your seat you cleared your throat, “of course, you don’t have to, I just thought it may make things a lot fairer if-”

“Defence” Yoongi interrupted abruptly. You stared at him for a second before your baffled expression turned into a smile. “Deal.” You took the deal, even though you knew very well that Yoongi was more than good at the subject, having managed to be one of the few people who could produce a Patronus in class. Deciding not to mention having observed his wispy Weasel Patronus almost starting to attack your Serpent one, you nodded at him extending your hand to seal the deal. Startled, Yoongi took a glance at your hand before hesitantly grabbing it. His warm hand enveloped yours and you gripped it, immediately finding comfort in his warm grip. Staring at each other for a second, the silence that settled over you wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a remnant of something that felt overlooked, as if there was something left unsaid between the two of you. Yoongi opened his mouth and your breath caught in your throat.

“Oi, Park!” Your cousin’s voice broke the comfortable bubble that you and Yoongi were in and you immediately dropped your hand on the table, pretending nothing had happened. You knew Jimin, and you knew he would not let you live it down if he noticed the position you and his friend were in. You schooled your face in a sneer and turned towards your obnoxious family member. “What Outdated Park?” You sneered at him, annoyed, then settled your eyes on the person hiding behind him. Sunny looked uncomfortable, so to ease the tension you smiled at her. It wasn’t that you didn’t like her, yet, you would not go out of your way to get to know her. “Are you ready for the Yule Ball?” Jimin airly said, dropping his arm over Sunny’s shoulder in such a casual way you could tell it was something he did often. At the thought of the Yule Ball, your mood instantly soured. Jimin knew there was no way you were excited about it, you glanced at Yoongi, who was doing his best to look at anyone but you. “Uhm, yeah, I guess.” You shrugged, the disappointment in our voice quite obvious.Yoongi chanced a glance at you, and you smiled sadly at him. “We will have to wait and see.” You broke eye contact, turning around to look back at Jimin, whose sympathetic eyes took in the interaction between you and his friend.

Yoongi felt his heart drop and his hand twitched. The sadness that he could read in your eyes made him want to grab your hand again, to reassure you, yet he stopped himself. He was nothing for you, and he could never be something. He would just stay as a friend and tutor, even though all he wanted to do was ask you to be his partner for the dance.

Staring at yourself in the mirror you took a deep breath in, your hands twitched at your sides. You were trying hard to not wipe them on your ball gown, your parents would kill you if you appeared less than perfect in front of anyone. Yoongi’s words rang loud and clear in your head. Refusing to acknowledge the truth of his statement you focused on your appearance once again. Tonight, you would be meeting your fiance officially - the thought as appealing as that one time you fell off the broom during the match against the Gryffindor team. You threw one more glance at yourself in the mirror before you acknowledged your friends calling your name.

“Coming! Wands out your asses.” You walk out of the dormitory into the Common Room. The dark atmosphere broken by the languid emerald flames coming from the fireplace, enhancing your satin dress. The lights caught in the folds of it giving it the fluidity of a crystal clear lake, the silver diamond like colour reflecting the green sheen cast around the room.

“Y/N, you have outdone yourself. Your partner is extremely lucky.” Your heart sped up at the thought of having to face your supposed arranged marriage partner. After you received your letter and had your emotional slip-up, you’d pushed the thought of your future fiance to the back of your brain. However, what you hadn’t realised was that with the Tournament happening at Hogwarts this year, you were going to meet your future husband sooner than intended. A pureblood from Beauxbatons; he was amongst the students chosen to be part of the visiting party. So, it didn’t surprise you when one afternoon, during your study session with your friends, he approached you. After he introduced himself, he immediately asked you to be his partner for the Yule Ball. No one else had dared to ask you to the Ball. Mouth agape you struggled to respond to him, knowing full well you couldn’t refuse, when you spotted Jimin and Yoongi making their way towards you.

“Hey Annoying Park.” Jimin greeted you, but at the sight of your discombobulated expression his face darkened, and he glanced between you and the Beauxbatons guy. “Who are you?” He narrows his eyes at the stranger and you would’ve laughed at his crassness if not for the conflicted feelings coursing through you. A small cough behind Jimin caught your attention and your eyes made contact with Yoongi’s. He shifted under your gaze as if uncomfortable and a sudden rush of embarrassment came over you. There was no reason to be ashamed of the situation you were in. Your future fiance had asked you to a ball, it was a perfectly normal situation. Nonetheless, the thought of Yoongi witnessing it made you squirm.

The tension was so thick you felt as if you were trapped in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The Beauxbatons student took a step forwards, placing himself in front of you in a protective manner. “Luc Millefeuille the Third.” He announced proudly, puffing his chest. Yoongi stiffened drastically at the name. He had heard it before, in newspapers. His great grandfather, the famous patissiere, was known for the serial mass poisoning of a group of muggles. The thought of you being chained to such a name made his skin crawl. If Jimin recognised the name he didn’t show it, instead he eyed the male with a steel gaze. “Nice to meet you.” Glancing at you he motioned with his head. “Red, we have practice to go to.” Taking the chance to get out of the situation you mumbled a goodbye to Luc before you hurried after Jimin.

In the end, Luc cornered you once more and you had no choice but to agree. Your parents were bound to have some harsh words for you if they found out you refused him. You knew of the family name, Jimin had made you aware of it. Despite your inherited indifference towards muggles, the thought of mass murder disgusted you. You didn’t know what your parents were planning and you couldn’t find out as your letters home had not been replied to.

“Y/N, are you ready?” You snapped out of your reverie. Turning to look at your friends, your smile grim, you nodded at them. “Yes, I guess so.” Patting your skirts once more you prepared to exit the dungeons just as the entrance opened, revealing a dashing Yoongi dressed in black robes, with a dark green sash around his torso. You faltered as you made eye contact with him, his eyes trailed down your form, darkening to the colour of tar. You felt yourself flush under his gaze, a slight tingle underneath your skin making you shift in discomfort. You couldn’t break eye contact with him even as your friends greeted him, his shocked gaze keeping you in place. “Y/N.” He whispered, taking a step towards you, you’re prepared to reach out to him when your sight is cut off by the abrupt entrance of the blonde Frenchman who barged past Yoongi.

“Y/N. You look delicious.” He smirked at you and you had to fight the urge to grimace. Grabbing your hand forcefully he doesn’t even acknowledge Yoongi as he dragged you out of the Common Room. Having to pick up your pace so that you didn’t trip over your dress, you looked back, your desperate eyes making contact with Yoongi’s dark ones once more. However, he’s gone from your sight the next second as Luc turned the corner.

Not being part of the Champions, the two of you had to wait near the entrance to the Great Hall, so you took your time observing the Christmas decorations that littered the gradious hall. The theme was a dark blue, with stars sparkling above your heads bathing the dance floor in an ethereal glow. You spotted Jimin and Sunny waiting to the side for the signal to start the dance. You could tell she was nervous by the way she gripped at Jimin’s robes, whispering animatedly in his ear. You laughed to yourself, you didn’t know her very well and you weren’t her biggest fan per se, but their relationship was adorable. Both of them were so oblivious to the other it was almost endearing if not borderline annoying.

Luc’s grip on you hasn’t softened since you entered the Grand Hall, it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. You stepped to the side as you tried to get him to loosen his hold on you. When you were unsuccessful, you stomped your foot near his. “Let go.” You warned him through gritted teeth. Not only did he ignore you, but he tightened his grip on your arm as he dragged you forwards towards the rink. You didn’t even notice that the Champions had finished with their first dance, and now it was open to everyone to join in. You knew you’d regret it later, as you missed the opportunity to witness your cousin’s marvelous dancing with his clumsy partner, but you had more pressing matters to sort out. Your partner pulled you onto the dance floor and with a sneer he glanced at you, “I hope you know how to dance, I don’t want to be embarrassed.” You bit back a remark, you knew you couldn’t cause a scene in the middle of so many people, no matter how loud you normally were. Instead of answering you tighten your grip on his shoulder, your eyes coldly staring past him.

As you glided in a waltz across the floor you took your time scanning the room, taking in all the couples, the decorations and most importantly, your eyes were searching for the sole person you wanted to see that night. You spotted him in a corner near a table, his eyes already on you. The intensity with which he was watching you made a shiver run down your spine. This time, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, on the contrary Yoongi’s gaze on you felt reassuring. The whole dance you kept your gazes locked on each other, Yoongi not even glancing away as his partner got pulled from him for a dance. Even though you were apart, and you were dancing with the man meant to be your husband, it felt like it was just you and Yoongi in the room.

You stepped away from Luc as soon as the dance ended. Muttering an excuse about needing refreshments you fought the urge to gag when instead of offering to get them for you, he burdened you with his own refreshments. Taking any excuse that you could to get away from him you nodded and hurriedly made your way towards the tables where Jimin greeted you.

“You could’ve done worse.” His mocking tone irked you and you resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. Instead you angrily grabbed a glass of mead and downed half of it in one go. “Woah there, slow down.” Jimin backed away from you. “If you tell me it’s unladylike Park, I swear on Peeve’s dung bombs you and Sunny will not have any children.” You grumbled under your breath at him, not caring that said girl was also next to him, both their faces now beet red. “I am close to murdering him.” You sighed, the drink and reprieve you had from your French fiancee finally calming you down. “Oh Merlin’s beard, here he comes.” You spotted Luc making his way through the crowd with a pompous stride, heading straight towards you. Grabbing Jimin by his robes in a desperate attempt to hide, you didn’t notice the other man that reached you before your fiance could. With a yelp, you stumbled straight into Yoongi’s chest, his hands wrapping around your waist in an attempt to steady you. “You’re good.” He whispered in your ear. Your stomach clenched at his low voice and his breath hitting the sensitive shell of your ear. Mumbling a thanks you stepped away from him, your eyes never leaving his. You could feel your heart speeding up and you had to resist the urge to grab onto him for support once more.

“Y/N, where are the drinks?” Luc’s voice broke you out of your daze, and you turned away from Yoongi to face him. “I- uh- forgot.” You mumbled causing the Frenchman to scoff at you, a look of pure disgust on his face. “I can’t believe my wife is this stupid.” He spat at you. You could feel your blood boiling in anger, but before you could reply Jimin stepped in front of you. “She is not your wife and she is definitely not stupid.” You could hear the anger in his voice. Luc sized him up, knowing that he couldn’t have an argument with the head of the Park family, that would ruin any chances. Instead he sneered at your cousin whilst grabbing your arm tightly. “Come on.” He glared at you, but having had enough you stood your ground trying to pry your arm out of his grip. “Let me go.” You said through gritted teeth, you were close to hexing his ass and no one would have been able to stop you. Pulling at you roughly once more trying to get you away from your friends, he suddenly tripped over his robes. You yelped feeling yourself start to fall down along with him, when a hand grabbed you and pulled you towards a familiar chest. In the corner of your eyes you noticed a wand being placed back into the black robes that Yoongi was wearing.

“What happened?” Luc looked around confused, picking himself off the floor and you realised straight away what Yoongi had done. “Your robe’s dirty.” Yoongi pointed out with a monotonous voice, and you fought back a laugh. You could see the change in Luc’s eyes, the anger making him explode. With a flurry of curses thrown around in French, he stormed out of the Great Hall. You stared after him in silence for a second before you couldn’t help it anymore and you burst out laughing. “Oh, wow. Who would have thought?” Jimin finally calmed down enough to speak. “Now if you’d excuse us, Sunny needs to polish her dancing skills.” Saying that he grabbed said girl by the arm and led her towards the dance floor. Still chuckling to yourself you turned towards Yoongi, a sparkle in your eyes that made his heart burst with warmth.

“Confundus eh? Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you for that.” You smiled kindly at him, waiting for a response. But when he silently extended his hand towards you, all you felt was the blood rushing to your head, making you dizzy. “You could dance with me.” His tone was calm, not once giving away the nervousness that he felt beneath his skin. You didn’t even hesitate, you placed your hands in his. He led you towards the dance floor, wrapping his arm around your waist, whilst you daintily placed your hand on his shoulder. As you slowly started to glide along the dancefloor between the couples, your eyes locked onto his. The charmed stars twinkling above you, your heart fluttered in hope.

Needless to say, Christmas holidays came and went, your trip home cut short by your desire to be away from your obnoxious family, and the excitement of continuing your studies alongside Yoongi. With his help, you started making progress with your Potions, and you would have long chats about anything and everything during the hours you were meant to be studying for Defence. Yoongi felt happy, it felt like everything was finally going right. Until that one fateful day when a curse and a fight would change everything for him. He never thought that by being himself just once in his life, would cost everything he had managed to build over the past seven years at the school.

Yoongi’s heart dropped. He’d been found out. He could tell just by looking at everyone’s reaction. The friends he’d managed to make, had found out about his blood status. If not certain, they are suspecting him now. Suddenly, flashbacks of his father degrading him- calling him a dirty blood traitor, whilst making sure the skin of his wrist was raw and blistery, plagued his mind. His thoughts filled with his father’s harsh words, accompanied by his mother’s cries; the symphony of Yoongi’s life. He stood frozen on the spot, the adrenaline coursing through his veins causing him to enter the fight or flight mode. His wide eyes took in the faces of the people that have always supported him for the past few years he’s been at Hogwarts.

But then again, could Yoongi even call these people friends? Could he say they have always supported him? He glanced at Jimin.

Jimin, the person whom he thought was a stuck up pureblood. The person who approached him, offered him not only a seat at the Slytherin table, but also a group to belong in. He could vividly recall the day he got put into his house. He was terrified when the Sorting Hat sealed his fate with a simple holler- “SLYTHERIN!” Yoongi was aware of the house's reputation and fame. Full of purebloods, prejudice and pride; his mother had warned him to stay away from them. But how could he, now that he was one of them? In a split moment, he decided then and there that he would not allow anyone know about his status, he would take it to his grave if he had to. So with a strengthened resolve he created Slytherin Yoongi. Gone was the boy who would openly smile until his cheeks hurt, the boy who dreamt of happy endings, the boy who would innocently sit by the lake, his eyes following the murtlaps chasing each other. In his stead, a coldness settled over him. He knew that in order to make it he had to avoid being too close to anyone. Becoming friends with people would only make it harder for him to hide who he was. So he hid in the shadows on his own, keeping himself away from activities that would force him to interact with people more than necessary.

Until Jimin came along. Under the pureblood facade, Jimin was charismatic and flirtatious with everyone and that made him very popular amongst his fellow Slytherins. Yoongi stood no chance against his charms, and when one day he felt himself pulled down, to sit with the most popular Slytherin boy and his best friend he did not know what to make of it.

“You look terrified,” Jimin laughed at Yoongi’s expression.

Being aloof and stiff with most of his peers made Yoongi very good at reading people. However, there was one person he could not read at all, and that was himself. Conflicted most of the time, the battle between the soft hearted boy who would try his best to make everyone happy and the new indifferent one mirrored in his eyes. Jimin was not stupid by any means, Yoongi found that out along the way. The internal battle that he was going through was not unnoticed by the pureblood Slytherin. Thinking about his friend and their journey into their friendship caused an old wound to reopen, a new wave of pain washing over him.

Then there was Jin, his neighbour Jin, who had stuck with him through thick and thin since childhood. Jin was there to pick him up when the other muggle children started calling him a freak. He never thought that Jin would end up at Hogwarts, not until they both got their letter when their mothers met up during their weekly cooking sessions. Getting excited over the letters, their mothers gushed at the two of them being best friends forever. Having Jin be there with him when they both entered the grand halls of the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a comfort he knew he shouldn’t indulge in. After all, they would probably not end up in the same house, and having read enough about the School, he knew there were rivalries, stereotypes. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jin becoming his enemy. So he kept his distance. But as usual, Jin had an innate ability to jump in and save the day, a stubbornness only characteristic to Gryffindors. So, Jin stayed by his side. The boy was smart enough to not reveal their friendship to everyone. Until this day, that is.

Then there was Red, you were the sole reason his cold facade melted. For you he became the person that he used to be. Warm hearted and ready to jump to anyone’s aid. He tried his best to not let his wall crumble, and for the most part he succeeded. But in his heart, something changed, something shifted. Your loud and honest personality paired with your stubbornness and your laissez faire attitude drew him in straight away. Yet, you were Jimin’s cousin, born as a pureblood, with the values of a Slytherin. You were loud and proud about being who you were. Never obnoxious about it, but there would be times when you would slip in one insult or another towards fellow ‘mudblood’ students. Yoongi knew then that as enraptured as he was by you, he had to keep you at a distance. He could not let you find out who he was, so he denied himself the intimacy with you that he desperately craved.

He got caught in the web of lies he has created around his persona. The Yoongi that everyone knew was a facade, he was not and he would never be that Yoongi. He wasn’t the pureblood genius that everyone knew, and he certainly was not the pureblood that could ever hope to win Red’s heart. At the thought of you his eyes honed in on yours. To his surprise he couldn’t see any animosity in them, instead the sheen that glossed over your eyes spoke of pain. The sight of you there, amongst the people who have witnessed his comeuppance was unbearable to him and so with one last wistful glance at you, he turned on his heels and ran.

“Yoongi!” The chorus of voices calling him was drowned out by the desperation in your voice.

He ran as fast as he could, stumbling into people, his eyes filling with hot tears. His legs were starting to hurt, and as he passed students, teachers, statues, Peeves who tried to pelt him with water - all he could focus on was the scene that had sealed his fate. The punches, his innate reaction to help his friends. The way Jin and Jimin had thrown meaningless words at each other. Something so unlike Jin that he did not know what to do, he acted instantly to break up the fight. Seeing his childhood friend, his brother, this aggressive triggered something in him he had not felt for a while. Fear.

He feared that Jin may have snapped, the trials of his life finally catching up to him at one word sputtered by Park’s mouth, so he acted out of pure instinct. He got in between the two, but to everyone’s surprise, Jimin was not the person he first reached out to. It was Jin who worried him the most. Talking to him in front of everyone as if he was an old friend, saying things to him that he shouldn’t have known, raised an alarm in everyone’s minds. When everything finally calmed down, Jin calmed down and Park, constrained by Taehyung. Yoongi was the only one left in the middle of the crowd, exposed and afraid.

Seeing him stand like that, his nervous countenance so unlike the cool composed man you’ve come to know, spurred you on. Cautiously you approached him, your hand extended towards him. “Yoongi?” You tried to get his attention however, your voice came out softer than you’d intended. Clearing your throat, you tried again, this time with a lot more conviction. “Yoongi, are you...ok?” To your credit, you settled for the safest of questions. There were a million thoughts running through your head, how did he know Jin? Most importantly, how did he know Jin so well? You have never once witnessed any contact between him and the Gryffindor Head Boy, other than the occasional nod in his direction. But this, everything you’ve heard, it seemed like their relationship ran deeper than Hogwarts. Purebloods and muggles in your head did not mix, especially Slytherins, unless there was something there that you were missing. That thought now in your head, you threw a hesitant glance in Jimin’s direction. It was easy to spot him amongst the rest, his face the only calm composed one out of all of them. Taehyung, Sunny, Nerd- the surprise was clear and apparent on their faces. Jimin’s calm composure told you all you needed to know- he was aware of the situation. Promising yourself to question him later, you turned your attention back to Yoongi, who as time passed looked more and more like a cornered animal, and you knew that at any moment he would flee the scene. Without thinking you took three rushed steps towards him, your eyes locked onto his. You read the sheer panic in them and before you could react his feet had carried him halfway across the hallway. “Yoongi!”

Without thinking you ran after him, ignoring your cousin’s shouts for you to return. You did what you normally did best, acted rashly and ignorantly. As a beater on the Slytherin team you had the athletic advantage and so you quickly caught up with his retreating form. Reaching out for his arm you stopped him dead in his tracks. “Yoongi. Stop.” Your voice sounded harsher than you’d intended, so desperate to get him to listen to you that you did not consider how your tone would affect him. You waited, not even phased by the sound of the other students milling in the corridors, the sight of his back being all you could see. The sound of his laboured breathing all you could hear. You uttered his name again yet, he did not turn around to face you, and for a second your composure crumbles. You squeeze his arm trying to get his attention, trying to get him to respond to you, trying to get him to do something. Caught up in your own thoughts and worries you yelped in surprise, you didn’t even notice his sharp intake of breath before he suddenly yanked his arm out of your hold.

“What do you want now?” The tone of his voice is as cold as the corridor you are both in. Your heart clenches at the sound. You were expecting him to be hurt or scared, but the anger that you could read in his voice takes you by surprise. How Slytherin of him, you thought, and how Slytherin of you to assume he would be anything but angry. All your life you’ve been indoctrinated to believe that anyone is below you, no matter who they are, all your life you were taught to assume you could read everyone, and you would always be right in your assumptions. Prejudice is not a winner in this case, you realised, not when it comes to love. Because all the nights you have spent in your dark room mulling over what had transpired between the two of you since that day in the bathroom, to the Yule Ball where you could barely think of dancing with anyone else but him. You didn’t see it coming, like a Bludgeon to the head, but your heart did. You tried and tried to tell yourself that it was not love, but it was already too late.

“Yoongi, please don’t shut us out.” You haven’t pleaded in your life, the sound of your voice a surprise to your ears. Before you could think too much into it, Yoongi’s response hit you like the Cruciatus curse.

“Why? Why would I not? Why would I let you use my situation to fuel your pureblood pride?” He spat and you recoiled instantly from him, you’ve never heard such venomous words coming from him. “Yoongi,” you whispered, the fire in your heart dwindling. “Why are you like this? I’ve never....why,” you tried to find your words but the hurt and shock running through your body made it difficult. “You’ve never been like this.” You finally settled. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you, his fierce expression made you tremble. The shivers running down your spine didn’t stop even as he carried on. The malicious tone of his voice bleeding through your veins like ice cold water. For a second you wonder if this is what Jimin’s felt like as Sunny pulled him out of the Black Lake. Cold and scared.

“What do you know about me?” You open your mouth to respond but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Nothing!” he hissed. “You don’t know anything about me. You know Yoongi, the Slytherin. But you don’t know anything about Min Yoongi the person.” His words cut through you and in that moment you’d rather be stuck with an army of Dementors than hear the accusations thrown your way. You knew he was right, you knew nothing of him. You hadn’t tried to even after your brain finally accepted that your heart belonged to him. Ashamedly, you cower away from him, your heart stuck in your throat, the sudden feeling of nausea hitting you as if you’ve had more Butterbeer than needed. You couldn’t speak, your words falling short of your own feelings. You wanted to tell him you wanted to know him, the real him, pureblood or not, it was him you have fallen in love with. You wanted to tell him the extent of your feelings, yet nothing would come out. The silence that settled over the two of you was pressing and your senses were telling you to run, to get away from the uncomfortable feelings coursing through you. There was a reason you were sorted in Slytherin, more than your pureblood status, the need for self preservation ingrained in you since birth.

Yoongi’s laugh brought you back to the present, the despair you could discern in it made your heart break. Once more, the need to yell out your feelings, to comfort him like you did that day in the bathroom, willed you to move, and so you did. Taking a small weary step, the need to be closer to him overriding your cautiousness you softly whispered his name.

Scared and confused, Yoongi knew he had shut himself in. He was aware of what his words were doing to you, yet he could not bring himself to care. Not when all he could feel was the rejection that had trumped over his entire life, not when the hurt he has carried since birth which was not even his own doing, fuelled his emotions. His heart was screaming at him to move away from you before he did more damage, to remove himself from your vulnerable form, something he had only witnessed twice, your pride never allowing you to show anything less than perfection. However, what he did was the complete opposite to that. The hand that was extended towards him, in an attempt at reconciliation, made him bristle, and so, acting like a cornered Hippogriff, he took the bite in the form of words. Words he would come to regret later, but at that moment, it did not matter to him.

“Stop, just stop.” His voice was loud and clear, the hardness of it washing over you. He could have cast a Stupefy spell over you and the results would have been the same. You froze, the feeling of dread gripping at your heart. “Do you think you can come here, with your pretty words and make everything better?” He spat, his eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t know anything about me, and you wouldn’t care to know.”

Finding your voice, the anger he is throwing at you fuelling yours, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Yoongi, stop. I never said I did not want to know you. I will never shut you out like you are now. Stop being a coward. Don’t shut us out,” The anger in your voice dissipated, leaving the desperation that you felt to seep through. “Don’t shut me out.” But Yoongi is relentless, his anger blinding, he knew he needed to protect himself from what was to come and so, he chose to do it in the only way he’s known how to, by distancing himself from people and his own feelings. “So what, are you implying you’d be friends with a mudblood?” He scoffed, and for a second you couldn’t find the will to speak. Taking it as an agreement, Yoongi carries on, his voice more spiteful than before. “See what I mean? You are not going to shut me out? That is a lie, and you know it. What would your parents think about their perfect princess being friends with a dirty blood traitor huh? What would they say if you brought something as disgusting as that and presented him as your friend? You couldn't, could you? Your perfect status is too important to be tainted” He took another step towards you, but this time instead of meeting him in the middle, you took a step back. The fire in his eyes, and the hatred in his voice terrified you.

“But you’re not a mudblood, not…” You couldn’t continue, your heart stuck in your throat, and the taste of bile invaded your tastebuds once more. You could feel the tears pricking, waiting to come out. Yoongi stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as if you’ve burnt him. And maybe you have, because the next second he groaned in frustration, “see what I mean, Y/N? Full mudblood or not, blood status will forever matter to you. And this is why you need to stay away from me. Forget I even existed in your life.” With that he turned around and left in a hurry his robes billowing behind him, not even bothering to glance back at your broken form. He knew he shattered you, his words pierced through your heart, he could’ve used an Unforgivable Curse on you and it would have been kinder than this. Yoongi tried his hardest to not break down in front of you but as soon as he turned the corner and was out of your sight he crumpled to the ground, his silent sobs a mirror of your echoing ones.

He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there, he didn’t know when his legs carried him to the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle normally did the rounds in, yet he wasn’t disturbed by anyone. He didn’t even notice you entering and trying to talk to him again, all he could hear was the yells of his father, the abuse he suffered because of what he was, all to the soundtrack of his own sobs. He could feel his body begging him to stop, to stop crying himself to exhaustion. When he eventually calmed down he found himself unable to move, and you were nowhere to be seen. His body stiff from sitting in one position for so long, his head pounding with the effort of crying, he felt empty. Helpless. He didn’t know where to go from there, aware it was late he willed himself to move. He knew he needed to return to the dungeons, it would be around this time that Jimin would start his rounds as Prefect and he didn’t want to risk getting points taken away from them if anyone else but Jimin found him loitering in the corridors. Though, that wouldn’t be unlike him, a disappointment to his house.

Luckily for him, the way to the Common Room was deserted. Before entering, the growl coming from his empty stomach reminded him he missed dinner and so at the last minute he took a detour towards the kitchens, hoping that one of the Elves could make him something to eat. Standing in front of the painting he tickled the pear. Entering the kitchens he greeted the House Elves but to his surprise, he found himself staring at Jimin. Muttering his name Yoongi went to turn around and leave, the sight of his friend a painful reminder of what happened a few hours prior. “Yoongi, wait.” Jimin’s voice sounded stern and by habit, Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t want to face his friend, the friend who always thought he was something he wasn’t, something he could never be, and something that Jimin valued above anything else. The thought of you crossed his mind and he closed his eyes tightly in grief. How could he dare face the cousin of the person he’s hurt the most?

“Jimin.” He couldn’t say anymore than that, his feelings clear in his voice. He felt angry, he felt ashamed, he felt like a fraud. No one said a word, the hustle and bustle of the House Elves the only noise that could be heard around them. Finally, Jimin sighed as he sat back down, motioning for Yoongi to join him. Yoongi hesitated, he shouldn’t. He didn’t know what Jimin would do now that he knew his friend wasn’t what he said. “Please sit or I'll have to report you to the Headboy for being out this late.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past Jimin to do such a thing so he complied, and sat down further away. Once again Jimin sighed,”look, I won’t discuss what happened today unless you wish to.” Yoongi’s eyes widened, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was so unlike Jimin to make a pass at someone in such a way.

“Then why am I sitting here?” Yoongi bit back, too exhausted to lash out at Jimin, even though that is all he wanted to do. “Because you are my friend.” Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff at Jimin’s words, “Yes, you are my friend Yoongi, nothing can change that, especially since you are in love with my cousin.” Yoongi froze, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His brain was yelling at him to deny it, how could he love you, when all he’s done was hurt you, yet his heart wholeheartedly agreed with Jimin. Confused by his own feelings, he didn’t say anything while waiting for Jimin to continue. Seeing that his friend was not going to react to his words Jimin sighed and continued. “Look, I knew who you were, I've known since 4th year.” Yoongi snapped his head round to look at Jimin, his eyes wide in surprise. “You...knew? Why then...?” he whispered and Jimin nodded. “Yes, I knew. Why, then, did I not say anything or why have I stayed your friend?” Yoongi nodded at the latter, he wanted answers for both of those questions but he would take whatever Jimin would give him. Jimin sighed once more, he never realised how broken his friend actually was, and it broke his heart to see it. “Because no matter what, you are who you are, not what your blood status is. Yes, there is prejudice, and I apologise if I've ever made you feel like I would shun you because of this, but I frankly don’t care. My family does, but I don't care what they do either.” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, relief washing over him. Jimin didn’t care. It felt as if a rock had been lifted off his chest. Jimin smiled grimly, “I will fight until the end with them if it means I get to live the life I want.” Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Is this about Sunny?” Jimin hummed in agreement. “I will tell my parents after graduation.” Yoongi shuddered, he knew where this was going, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse. “I will consider.” He said and got up to leave; suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“That is all I am asking of you.” Yoongi smiled grimly at Jimin but didn’t reply. Jimin continued, “And Yoongi, what I just said about not caring what you are? I know Red doesn’t either. So please consider that too.” Yoongi left without uttering another word, his heart pounding in his chest.

The sight of the looming manor made Yoongi stop dead in his tracks, his blood ran cold and he fought the instinct to Disapparate back to his home. He was here for Jimin’s sake, he needed to be there for his friend so with a sigh he dejectedly made his way towards the entrance. With the last bit of his strength he prepared himself to knock, only to be startled when the door opened for him as soon as he raised his hand towards the knocker. Confused, he took a cautious step inside, expecting someone to yell at him for trespassing. When only silence greeted him, he glanced around, taking in the intimidating vastness of the corridor. The mahogany theme of the door continued inside, the tall ceiling supported by wooden beams displaying various carvings. Yoongi took his time observing the paintings displayed above his head, the intricacy and detail told him they were an expensive artifact. Taking a few more hesitant steps, he came face to face with a grand mirror, its frame made out of solid gold and Yoongi couldn’t help but huff at the thought of a Slytherin owning something else apart from silver. But then again, Jimin has never been your usual Slytherin. Before he could wonder further into the house, his ears picked up a murmur carrying over from the right hand side.

Determined to not make himself appear like a muggle, he took a deep breath in and with a determined stance, straightening his back he prepared himself to fully enter enemy territory. He was a lithe person, normally living in the shadows, he was used to not making a sound as he walked. Sometimes that would be a blessing and sometimes it would be a curse. As he approached the location where the voices were coming from he decided it was the former rather than the latter. Turning the corner, his heart stopped for a second. With her back towards him, in full dark green robes, bent over, whispering cautiously to a house elf, stood Red. He hadn’t seen you since that last argument, the two of you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other. You played this avoidance game throughout to the end of the year, it wasn’t hard to do so.

With your N.E.W.Ts around the corner, you both got stuck studying for your respective classes. Fortunately for him, aside from Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts you two didn’t share any other classes together. So for the rest of the year, you two didn’t have any unnecessary meetings. At first, Yoongi felt relieved, the way he treated you at that time was a painful memory, not having the chance to face you about it eased his mind. He wasn’t wrong when he told you during your dance at the Yule Ball that he was going to hurt you, you adamantly refused to believe him. That night in the corridor when he degraded your status as a pureblood with all the hatred he could muster, he saw the heartbreak in your eyes. At the time, he couldn’t care less, the painful memories of his childhood completely blinding him, the shame hit him a few hours later when he talked to your cousin. “She has the right to love whomever she wants, what she doesn’t have is a choice to have whomever she wants. Yet, she’s fighting for that choice, and her choice is you. She couldn’t have found a better cause to fight for.”

Those words stayed in his heart until the end of the year, he didn’t know how or when, but he’s slowly come to terms with his feelings. He suspected his talk with Jin about it also helped. Jin, who came to apologise about the situation he put Yoongi through, however, contrary to his first reaction, Yoongi was quick to assure him it didn’t matter. People were bound to find out regardless, it wasn’t as if the situation ended up that way due to Jin’s malicious intent. The discussion with Jin made him realise that people haven’t treated him differently. He’s managed to make friends during these years at Hogwarts, and the friends he’s made liked him for himself, not his status in society. The only people who may have had a real issue with it were the first people to find out, the people who accepted him without a doubt.

At the sight of you, crouched to the House Elf’s level whispering instructions, his gaze softened. You were one of those people, and yet, he treated you horribly. As a Slytherin pureblood you had your faults, pride being one of them, but you’ve never treated anyone differently based on their blood status. You tended to stay away from what would be deemed as ‘impure blood’ but that wasn’t a choice, the rivalries and prejudice between Houses made it difficult to overcome that. Suddenly his ears picked his name out from the conversation and he took a step back, assuring that he was hidden from view.

“Make sure Yoongi doesn’t realise, ok? Honestly, how can he Disapparate in front of the Manor and come knock like a muggle?” Yoongi’s heart clenched at your words, maybe he was wrong, maybe you did avoid him on purpose. Before his thoughts could take over his actions, you carried on, “this family would not only suspect him, but go to the depths of looking into his family history. Make sure no one realises he didn’t Floo himself here, Harvey.” Yoongi unknowingly took a few steps closer to you, his body now in full view. Straightening up, you turned to leave the room when you caught sight of Yoongi’s frozen form.

Your surprised expression instantly turned cold, as you nodded at him in acknowledgement. “Yoongi.” Said man couldn’t find his words to greet you, the discrepancy between your cold words to him and what he’s heard earlier making his head spin. Your face may have been stony cold, but your heart bled for him. You’d missed him- playing the avoidance game had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. Seeing him now, looking fresher and healthier than he was the last time you saw him, hurt. Because you knew that it was you who’d managed to bring him to despair. You may have done it subconsciously, or maybe you weren’t even a part of it, but the guilt gnawed at your inside nonetheless. Your world was not healthy for him. You knew that. You shouldn’t have even thought about bringing him into it, this wasn’t a fairytale, and it would never be. You needed to let him go. Defeated, you prepared yourself to leave. But just like Jimin had stopped him that night in the kitchens, Yoongi decided that it was time to stop being a coward. He needed to face his demons, and most importantly he needed to make sure you never left his side again.

“Y/N.” The tone of his voice made you stop abruptly, your eyes widened in panic. This was not meant to happen, you weren’t ready to face him on your own just yet. Putting on the most cordial face you could, you nodded at him in acknowledgment. “Yoongi. How have you been?” He hated it- hated this politeness towards him. Where was the woman who put him in his place more than once? Where was the woman whose pride meant she had to have the last word. “I-Fine.” He was so caught off guard by your behaviour that he found the words he’d prepared stuck in his throat.

Staring at him for a second longer, you nodded. “Well-“ Yoongi knew what you were going to say so with a last surge of courage he plunged. “I love you.” You froze, your brain trying to wrap itself around the confession that Yoongi just hurtled at you. “What?” You whispered, you needed to make sure you heard it correctly. Yoongi took a deep breath in, the cat was already out of the bag, and he would be as truthful with you as he could without drinking any Veritaserum. “I love you, I may not be the best for you, by Merlin, I am not even a possibility for you, but I wanted to let you know. I’ve run away too much, and you were right, I’ve been a coward. But if I want to stand any chance against your family, I need to stop hiding behind my hatred and cowardice.” His words were said with such conviction they brought tears to your eyes. Unknowingly, your feet carried you closer and closer to him, until you broke off into a run, not caring about how unladylike you may have looked. You threw yourself into his arms making him stumble. “I love you.” You whispered into his shirt, the tears flowing down your cheeks washing away the pain you’ve garnered in your heart. There was nothing else exchanged, there was no need to. You both knew how you felt, you both knew the other knew how you felt. You were both aware it will be a tough ride for the both of you, but your hearts were mending and that was all that mattered.

“What about the French bastard?” Yoongi broke out of your hold and looked at you in confusion. “What about him?” Your eyes are twinkling like the night stars, and Yoongi swore he saw galaxies in your smile. “My parents don’t want a son in law who ditches their daughter at a ball.” You chuckled as Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Plus,” you grabbed his hand and led him out of the drawing room towards a grandiose, intricately carved door. Behind it, Yoongi could hear murmurs and he assumed that is where the party was being held. “Jimin can be very convincing when he wants to.” You winked at him playfully.

“Let's hope he’s more than willing to be convincing today too.” Yoongi smirked and he looked at you. “You ready?” At your nod, you both waved your hands whispering Alohomora and watched with your hearts in your throat as the door opened. It was now or never.

As Jimin announced his relationship to Sunny, your hand gripped Yoongi’s subconsciously. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest in fear. Fear for Jimin and his relationship, but most importantly, fear for yourself and your own chances at a happy relationship with Yoongi. You glanced at said man, he looked terrified as if he was the one under scrutiny, you could notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The silence in the room felt heavy and you turned your attention towards your parents. You knew it was selfish, it was Jimin you should be worried about and yet, all you could think of was the man next to you. The man who managed to brave this manor, and these purebloods despite his adversity to them. All for your cousin. You could see the tick in your parent’s jaw, you could see the tension between Jimin and his father, so thick you could cut it with a knife. No one dared to say anything for a while, and just like that, with the sounds of a platter dropping to the floor the tension was broken like a spell. Everyone’s heads turned towards the source of the noise. There in the middle of the fireplace, stood the fashionably late Taehyung, having Floo’d in straight into a House Elf serving a platter of wine. “My apologies for the lateness!” He exclaimed as he took in the mess he’s managed to create. With a wave of his hand he mumbled “Reverte” under his breath, not giving the House Elf another look as he made his way in between Jimin and his father. “Mr. Park, lovely to see you.” He bows his head in respect, not giving Jimin’s father any time to react, Taehyung turns quickly towards Jimin. “Jimin, you are needed in the Auror Office today as soon as possible.”

If you wouldn’t have known those two rascals from a very young age you would’ve thought it a coincidence, a bloody godsend, but because you have been around them since diapers you didn’t miss the slight turn at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, or the way Jimin subtly nodded at him. They have planned this from the beginning, and with a small relieved laugh you acknowledge Tae’s greeting with a wave of your hand.

“They planned this all along didn’t they?” Yoongi’s whisper in your ears makes you shudder. Still chuckling to yourself you nod, “of course they did, it’s the double trouble of Hogwarts, well I should say the Auror’s Office now shouldn’t I?” Turning towards him, you don’t miss the amused glint in his eyes. You barely notice the commotion of the party carrying on around you, your fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, your gazes locked and silly smiles on your faces. If Jimin could do this and get through it, then so could you. You weren’t going to let Outdated Park beat you at that too.

“We will be fine.” You said determinately, a surge of courage and hopefulness running through you. Chuckling at your expression, Yoongi nodded.

“Yes we will, Red, yes we will.” You could get through this, especially if it was with Yoongi by your side, it was all worth it.

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