#Vernon voice: her arms were cut off her legs were cut off her ears were cut off her tongue was cut off her nose were cut off.:

[cosmicheartz]

I think abt how the two most well adjusted campers in my future au are Vernon and Chloe

[autumnalwalker]

Find The Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @aether-wasteland-s.

My words were mask, hold, free, late & among.

Passing the tag to @emberlyric, @words-after-midnight, @epnona-the-wisp, @blind-the-winds, @cljordan-imperium, and the usual open tag for anyone else who may wish to join in.

Your words shall be cope, candle, conversation, corrupt, & carry

Mask: The Archivist's Journal, Day 107

Lin showed up while Vernon was in the middle of shedding his excess luggage.  No camping gear on her part, just a bag with what amounted to first aid supplies and her typical upbeat humming.

Unfortunately, those first aid supplies soon had to be put to use.  As we were making our way toward the road out of the Village an out of breath young man waved Lin down.  From the way the humming immediately cut short and her expression went neutral the moment she saw him, I suspect she suspected what he was about to say.  There’d been an accident at the market.  Someone had tripped and dropped something heavy on someone’s leg and maybe broken something.  He’d been sent to go retrieve the doctor and recognized Lin on the street.

Slipping straight into professional mode Lin thanked the man for letting her know, sent him off to get her father just in case the tools she had on hand weren’t sufficient, gave a curt apology to us for not being able to join, and set off toward the market forum at a brisk but measured pace before the rest of us had a chance to say anything.

Sometimes I wonder which is the mask for coping and which is the “normal” Lin.  Or is that even a meaningful distinction to make?

Hold: Empty Names - 1 - Hello World

"Anyway,” Road continues as they unzip the duffel bag on the floor and begin rifling through it, “I think I’ve seen enough to get a handle on the situation.” They stand back up and turn to face the demon again; now with an intricately embossed knife in one hand and a black candle in the other.  “This can go one of two ways.  The first way,” they hold up the candle, “you tell me what I need to know about who’s been telling untrained novices how to summon you and in return I perform a little light exorcism and send you back to whatever hell-type dimension you were plucked from as painlessly as possible.  The second way,” they hold up the knife, showing off the miniature binding circles inscribed along the blade, “I stab you with this, discorporate you, bind your essence to the blade, use you as a divination focus to track this guy down, and then banish you.  Your choice.  Even a demon deserves that much.”

“Such is barely a choice at all.  Lean in closer and will tell you what I know.”

“Oh, your inside voice!  So civil, how could I refuse?”  Road leans down, now eye level with the crouching demon.  

“Closer, so that I may whisper .  We know not who may be listening.”

Road leans closer still, turning their head to present an ear to whisper into.  

“THIS PRISON OF LIGHT WILL NOT HOLD ME DARKNESS WILL ENVELOPE US ALL I WILL REND YOUR ARMS FROM THEIR SOCKETS IN FRONT OF THE WEAKLING ENCHANTER I WILL SLURP HIS STILL PULSATING GUTS WHILE HE YET LIVES I WILL MAKE THE TWO OF YOU WATCH ONE ANOTHER HELPLESS AS YOU DIE!”

The demon throws itself against the barrier as it screeches, thrashing and scratching.  Flashes and sparks from the collision nearly blind Lacuna, who’s halfway to the door and suddenly feeling very awake before she realizes that despite the terrible creaking noise, the binding circle’s still holding strong.  

Road straightens to their full height, unperturbed.  

“Really?  That was your plan?  Scream in my face and hope that I’ll flinch and disrupt the circle?  I’m disappointed.”  They sigh.  “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.  

“Lacuna,” they call back over their shoulder, “I suggest you stay back for this next part.  Maybe cover your eyes if you’re squeamish.  It could get -”

Whatever they were about to say gets drowned out by a crack of thunder that seems to be near-simultaneous with its progenitor lightning flash.  In the wake of the flash the room is plunged into darkness.

Free: The Archivist's Journal, Day 133

Back at the house I found Lin and Maiko still engaged in conversation, with the latter describing what it’s like free diving into deep water to catch fish with her bare hands.  I took that as a good sign.

Following the standard pleasantries and inquiries after Cass and the trip to and back from the farmhouse, I made my apologies that I wouldn’t be able to remain up and join in on their conversation, but that they were welcome to keep going while I retired to my room to get in some journaling followed by sleep.

As much as I would have liked to stay up with them (and as much as the tea certainly would have allowed me to) I wanted to keep giving them the time alone together.  Throughout the night as I’ve been writing this I’ve been able to make out their muffled voices through the door and down the hall.  Although now that I write that it occurs to me that it’s actually been a while since I heard them.  I should head to bed myself, yet I still feel surprisingly wakeful.

This tea is strong.

Late: Empty Names - 5 - Rite of First Refusal

Eris grins wide.  “That’s the spirit!”  She says in what barely qualifies as an inside voice.  A moment passes and the grin fades.  She leans forward, elbows on the table.  “But seriously,” she continues, more softly now, “what’s bugging you sis?”

“I… What gave it away?”

“You’ve been sighing all afternoon.”

“Oh.  I have?  I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, that’s a thing you do.  A lot.  Worlds’ worst Poker face.  It’s endearing, really.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.  But between that and the hoodie you may as well be wearing a neon sign saying ‘I’m stressed out.’  That thing’s like a security blanket for you.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, nothing to be ashamed of.  We’ve all got something.  And dressing like a cute meme is probably healthier than some of the stupid shit I’ve done.”

“Ugh, I never should have shown you that part of the Internet.”

“Too late.  I’m thoroughly corrupted with the Internet brain rot and it’s all your fault.  I hope you’re happy.”

“Heh.”  Lacuna touches her fingers to her forehead and shakes her head in mock exasperation.  “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Would you have it any other way?’

“No.”

“But yeah, anyway, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool too.”

“Thanks.  I appreciate it.  It’s not that I don’t want to.  It’s just…”  Lacuna breaks off her approximation of eye contact as the sentence fades halfway through.

Eris waits in silence for her friend to find the words.  She’s learned the hard way that interjecting here to prompt Lacuna  would only be more frustrating.  Concern’s starting to creep in though.  For all her trying to keep things upbeat, it’s been a good while since the last time she saw Lacuna let something eat at her like this.

Among: The Archivist's Journal, Day 155

And thus the evening carried on into the night with the two of us being among the last to leave the eatery and making our apologies to the proprietor for keeping the place open so late.  I accepted Vernon’s offer to walk me “home” to the library.  I did hug him as we prepared to part ways.  I figured he might be more receptive of such a gesture than Maiko.  It felt nice, but once the moment passed I was terribly embarrassed and began apologizing.  He laughed it off (in a “trying to lighten the mood and reassure” way, not a “laughing at you” way) and said that it was fine and nothing to apologize for.  And that, besides, it wasn’t the wildest gesture someone’s made toward him at the end of the night.  I responded with a nerve-tinged laugh, said that I’m sure it wasn’t, hoped it was too dim for him to notice me blushing, thanked him for the evening and bid him goodnight.

I do hope he didn’t take that the wrong way.  As I said before, I’ve no romantic intentions toward him, emotional nor physical.  It’s just… I really needed some kind of emotionally positive physical contact with another person.  Comfort.

[jilyesplz]

Olfactory Variety: a TLAT!Jily drabble

I'm gonna end up writing Jily's entire Christmas in drabbles before I finish Potter and Evans. Lol. I'm not even mad about it, have TLAT!Jily's Christmas Eve.

Lily loved Christmas, she reminded herself sternly. Adored it, obsessed over it, fantasized about it. Christmas Eve was her very favorite night of the year, because the next time she’d open her eyes would be to a day of caroling and showing all the people she loved how much she loved them.

Well, most of the people she loved.

The deal Lily had struck with her family—James and Lily could spend almost as much time as they wanted together in the week before and after Christmas (almost, because of a 10pm curfew), and in return, he would make no appearance during the Evans’s stay at the Dursley family home from December 24-6th—was, objectively, more than fair.

So Lily had told herself (and James) when they agreed to it.

So she had reminded herself when they said goodbye last night.

So she had repeated like a mantra while Petunia talked over the new Queen album for the entire drive to Yorkshire…while Vernon volunteered to carry Lily’s bag upstairs and then promptly dropped it on her foot…while Lily curled up on the couch after dinner, head on her mother’s shoulder, and buried her nose in the jumper she’d nicked from James until she was finally permitted to go to bed.

But now, as she brushed her hair in the bathroom after one James Potter-less day with the prospect of two more before her, Lily wondered if she ought to have added some clauses. Clauses like sweaters that smell like boys must continue to smell like those boys for the duration of the holiday and fireplaces must come equipped with small bowls of green powder on their mantels.

Lily sighed. She really did love Christmas, and the house and company might not be Lily’s cup of tea, but Petunia was truly happy here. Lily’s sister positively glowed, and that was worth a few cold, lonely days for Lily. She climbed into bed and tried not to think about how much larger it was than the twin bed she had been sleeping in at home.

“Snaps. Snaps. Snaps.”

Lily woke with a start to find hazel eyes inches from hers. “What the h—umfgh?” James’s hand muffled the last word of her question.

“Shh, you’ll wake the Dirtbags.”

“Dursleys.”

“That’s what I said.” As Lily blinked the sleep from her eyes, she realized he was nude except for boxers. He tugged on the corner of her comforter, grinning. “Lemme in.”

“What are you…Did you Apparate into my bedroom naked?” Lily half-sat up, and James made a face.

“Priorities, Snaps. Cold room. Blanket first, then chat.”

Lily laughed and scooted to the far side of the bed, letting James crawl under the covers. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and Lily tugged his right arm under her head, prodding him until she could use his bicep as a pillow. She reached up and stroked his jaw with gentle fingers, his hard lines softening just a little under her touch. “Warm now?” she whispered.

“Almost.” James kissed her. She pulled him closer, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, and he rolled on top of her and skimmed his left hand down her body until he found bare skin at her thigh. Lily’s tongue brushed his bottom lip and his mouth opened, and Lily lost herself in the heady rush of kissing James Potter for a long, lovely while.

“I missed you stupidly,” she murmured at length, and he pulled away slightly to gaze down at her, thumb brushing her cheek.

“We haven’t been apart that long since November.”

“It was awful. Let’s never do it again.”

James smirked. “A day? I’m not sure that one’s avoidable, Snaps.”

“Don’t act tough. I’m not the one who showed up in your bedroom in the middle of the night.”

She had him there. “I missed you stupidly too.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed tight, pulling him down beside her.

“Love you,” Lily sighed into the crook of his neck, and goosebumps ran down James’s spine. “Love you, love you, love you. Thank you for coming. Want you here always. But…you know you can’t stay,” she muttered nervously, pulling away enough to make eye contact. “There’s no way to pass it off with the Muggles, and…and your Mum and Dad! And Sirius will want to spend Christmas with you, and…”

James cut her off with another kiss. “I’ll go when people start moving,” he murmured. “I charmed your door locked when I got in. Mum and Dad won’t expect me to be up ‘til noon…Padfoot might break into my room if he gets bored, but he’ll cover for us, so who cares?”

“Sure, he’ll cover, right up until he sees a chance to blackmail us…”

“It’s Christmas. I’m waking up next to naked Lily Evans. End of discussion. Speaking of which…” he tugged at the oversized tee covering her torso, “This has done its time. Off.”

Lily laughed. “I see why you’re really here, Potter.”

“How else am I supposed to give you your Christmas present?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking, and she sent him a flat look.

“You live in a castle, James. I know I said keep a sane budget, but if my Christmas present is a sexual favor, I guarantee that is the only direction they’ll be going for a long, long time.”

“Noted,” he chuckled in her ear. “Let it be known that if my Christmas present is a sexual favor, there will be no complaints at all.” Lily giggled. “Now, to return to my original point…” his hand slid underneath the hem of the tee, pushing it up over her hips and waist toward her ribs. “Off.”

“You really don’t like it?” Lily asked coyly.

“Your dad’s t-shirt? Er, Snaps…” Lily raised an eyebrow and pulled back the covers slightly, letting the moon light her shirt.

His shirt, actually. His Quidditch jersey, with his name splashed across her chest.

James swore. He grazed his hand up her side to palm her chest through the shirt and clenched hard when he found her braless. “Wear this every day,” he growled. “I’ll wear Padfoot’s old one to matches, I don’t care. Fuck robes, this is your new uniform.”

Lily laughed, trailing her own hands over the warm, firm ridges of his abs, up over his chest, to massage his shoulders. “I like this uniform,” Lily murmured, and shimmied down to press her lips to his chest as a chuckle rumbled through it.

“Good point, Snaps. I do need to stay on track.” Both James’s hands slid down to the hem of her jersey, and he resumed teasing it up her hips and ribs.

“I’ll take it off, but you have to put it on,” Lily whispered abruptly, and James momentarily stopped his struggle to finagle his shirt off her in order to laugh.

“Are we doing a Quidditch fantasy? Because I hate to break it to you, Snitch, but I'm a Chaser, so..."

Lily bit playfully at his nipple, laughing. “No, Git, I just…” she trailed off. James squeezed her ribs.

“Out with it, Prig. Fantasize away, you filthy animal.”

She dug her forehead into his chest, a headbutt that quickly became a nuzzle. Nose pressed into his skin, she took a deep breath, ruffling the hair on James’s chest and making him shiver. “This whole house smells like lavender. You happen to smell different, so” (with dignity) “in the interest of olfactory variety, I’m permitting you to wear the clothes I’ve nicked from you.”

James’s hands clenched on her ribs and he pulled her up to the pillow, rolled over her, buried his face in her neck, and kissed her, swirling his tongue over her skin, breathing deeply through his nose. “I fucking love olfactory variety.”

Lily sighed, and his hands, gliding down her sides, momentarily froze. At length, James rolled them over, putting Lily over him. She sat up, straddling his hips, and the blanket fell back onto his legs, leaving both of them pale blue in the light of the moon.

Lily (finally) pulled his jersey over her head in one fluid motion, and James took a deep breath, hands gripping her thighs tightly. Lily bit her lip and laid her hands flat against his stomach, and something in her eyes just then (not that her eyes were his main point of focus) made James slow down a little.

“Hi,” James murmured, and Lily smiled.

“Hi,” she said in a small voice, and she placed her hands over his, brushing small fingers over the hard backs of his knuckles. James lifted just his thumbs from her legs to hook over hers. “James,” she whispered, “I’m really happy you’re here.”

“I’m happy too, Lily,” James said, his voice a now-familiar kind of strange.

Her smile grew, and she leaned forward over him (the view just kept getting better), running her hands up his arms to his shoulders, then down to his chest…

“What happened to the shirt?" James teased, as he flexed every muscle in his torso just to keep her looking at him like that.

Lily licked her lips and tossed his jersey over the side of the bed. “You don’t smell that good.”

James growled low in his throat, crooked grin splitting wide, and sat up to wrap an arm around her waist. He yanked a giggling, squealing Lily off of him, tossing her on her back on the bed, and slipped down her body until his head was between her legs. “You do,” James said.

Lily looked down at him, four very dark eyes meeting in the moonlight, and wound her hands tightly through his hair. “I love having a lady of the night,” Lily quipped, and James’s laugh vibrated everywhere.

[nocturnememory]

this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife)

 I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

She’s curled up against his side, Tales of Beetle the Bard, sits splayed open on the other half of the bed, but there’s no story she likes hearing more than the one he’ll tell her and only her, in the low light of her bedroom, half-asleep and pressed up as close as she can get to him.

Prompt: This is two prompts mixed into one, hopefully that works out for both prompters... the first was “What if Voldemort won the first war but harrie still ended as a hocrux?! Their life and story then. Would he watch over her as she is raised? Maybe care for her more or less?“ and the second, “How do you think Voldemort would raise Harrie? If he took her or kidnapped her from her parents instead of trying to kill her.”

This doesn’t quite match up with both exactly, but it merges the two together because I think they were too similar to not meld together into one prompt.

hopefully the two prompters enjoy it anyway!

Warnings: Underage, age-gap, Voldemort raises Harrie, Minister of Magic Voldemort, morally grey!Harrie. Pureblood rhetoric/prejudice. Pureblood culture/beliefs.

This is definitely pretty dark and like, very very morally complicated. Don’t be fooled by the fluff in the first part. If you’re at all sensitive to underage/age-gap stories, this one is definitely not for you. While I’ve done my best to keep it from being squicky with grooming, there’s definitely still going to be threads of this story that cross like, a lot of boundaries.

this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife) 1/3

                  Outside of her cupboard, there’s a knock on the front door of Privet Drive.

In the kitchen, a chair scrapes back, her uncle grumbles and mutters about dinner time and no good nuisances. His footsteps are heavy and thundering as he passes by her cupboard, blocking the striped, reaching light from the slats for a moment as he heads to the front door.

His footsteps fade as he turns the lock and yanks the door open, his voice sharp and hard. “Do you know what time it is? What kind of f—”

There’s a thump and a sliding sound, like something heavy being pushed across the floor. Like when Aunt Petunia has Harrie vacuum the front room and she has to push and push the big couch back to get at the dust underneath.

The light to her cupboard gets blocked again, that sliding noise louder and louder like whatever is being pushed is sliding right past her cupboard door along the strip of carpet in the hallway.

Beneath that noise, just beneath it, something gurgles and gasps.

And then, there’s a scream. A thump, more thumps, something breaks and shatters and underneath it all, that choking, gasping gurgling sound.

Harrie huddles into the corner of her cupboard with her knees to her chest and her arms shaking, clutching at her little tin soldier in her sweaty palm.

No one ever looks in her cupboard, she tells herself, they won’t find her in here. She’s safe in her cupboard, she’s always been safe in her cupboard.

It gets louder, the thumping and gurgling and screams outside of her cupboard and Harrie tucks her head into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut—

Until—

Until—

It goes quiet.

Her ears strain and she pulls in a breath and holds it, trying to hear what’s going on in the kitchen.

There’s a drip, drip, drip… and Harrie swallows, turning her head towards her cupboard door, watching the light stripping through the slats, her heart thundering in her ears as she holds her breath just a little bit longer.

Drip, drip, drip.

Like spilled milk over the edge of the kitchen table, she thinks, or juice from one of Dudley’s tantrums that Harrie always has to clean up, girl.

Drip, drip, drip.

Shaking, she hears footsteps, a pair of shoes over the hard kitchen floor turning into softer steps on the carpet in the hall. Steady and slow, coming towards her; they sound too heavy to be Aunt Petunia’s, but much too light to be Uncle Vernon’s.

A stranger, she thinks. It’s a stranger in the house, isn’t it?

She huddles smaller, hugging her knees tighter as the footsteps stop in front of her cupboard; it blocks some of the light, the pair of legs just outside of the door.

Her heart pounds, wild and unsteady and so loud in her ears it sounds like Dudley jumping on the stairs above her head. Thump thump thump.

The latch slides and drags back in a metallic scrape.

She goes cold at the same time something hot burns through her stomach and— and she feels— she feels—

So angry. So angry, her palm’s slippery and hot and it was over too quick, too quick, should have taken longer. Drawn it out. It’s clawing at her insides and— and the knob turns and the feeling cuts off, sharp and sudden enough to make her hitch a little breath.

The door pulls back.

A man crouches down slowly, he’s tall and big and fills the little, angled doorway of her cupboard up until there’s barely any space left.

He holds his hand out, it’s red and shiny, even in shadows of her cupboard.

“Hullo, Harrie,” the man says with a careful, slow smile that makes her feel…makes her feel…

It makes her slide forward, unfolding from her tucked-up, tight huddle in the corner, makes her slip her hand into his sticky one so he can pull her out towards him until she can tuck her head into his neck and wrap her arms around his shoulders and cling onto him so tight she thinks it has to hurt him.

But his fingers are long and warm as they push into her hair to cup the back of her head as his arms wrap around her like they’re swallowing her up in the size of them; his voice is low and warm and she can feel it inside of her chest, her belly, the clench of her knees digging into his ribs, trembling to cling on tighter and tighter and tighter.

His head turns into her shoulder, his chest shifts against hers as he breathes out, long and slow and warm over her skin, his arms tightening just a little bit more around her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.”

                                                                            She’s so much smaller than he expects.

He doesn’t burn the house down, no matter the desire to wipe the filth of that family off the face of the Earth like God’s hand coming down with a vengeful flood.

No, no. That’s almost kind, isn’t it? Fire purifies in so many ways, and they deserve to die like the bugs they are. A smear of gore on glass. Crushed beneath his palm.

He seals the house and leaves them to rot.

The girl, his girl, breathes gently against his neck, her cheek soft and warm, her arms lax over his shoulders. She hasn’t spoken yet, but she knows him.

She knew him as soon as she saw him.

In a cupboard. A cupboard. (He killed them too quickly, too easily. He should’ve taken his time taking them apart. Chained them to a rockface and picked at their organs and bones like a vulture. Left them to be gnawed on by rats and birds a little more each day.)

His girl whimpers at the heat of his anger and irritation, and he ducks his head and presses his lips to her forehead, his voice low and easing, shh, sweet girl, it’s alright.

She weighs nothing, and it’s his own fault for being so caught by it. She’s taken up so much space in his mind for years that the reality of her, no matter that he knows she’s nothing but a four-year-old child, leaves him staggering to process it.

He’s been hunting for her for so long. Four years since he knew about the idea of her. Three years since he’s known her, known her voice and her face in flashes, known her hunger and her tears, known the terribly rare sound of her laughter. (Once, just once, a kitten-lick on her palm, a stale house with an awkwardly-kind old woman surrounded by cats who fed her stale cake.)

A squib, he’d found out later, a kind old fucking squib faithful to Albus. She’d lived only long enough to seal her own fate. (A terribly small girl, she’d said around her tea cup, her eyes glassy and unfocused, I’m not sure they treat her very well but—)

But.

But.

                                    When he was a boy, he imagined that when the day came that he and Albus came wand-point to wand-point, it would be bloody and beautiful and biblical. The battle of Armageddon; the orphan boy and the false king.

(His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.)

A final stand that would raze Britain to its foundations and let the victor rebuild it in whatever image they chose. A fanciful, violent dream shaped by a boy sculpted by his childhood. Verses twisted to fantasies. Recitation twisted to conception.

It would have been something.

But now— now Albus has fashioned himself a noose of his own making and it tightens by the hour. Inches tighter by the minute. There will be no crowns and no battle, no fire and no brimstone.

There are bruises on her and she weighs nothing.

                                      He holds her through the twist of Apparition, carries her into his estate that’s been sitting empty, sitting waiting, sitting ready for the moment he finally found her.

He peels her out of her too-large muggle clothes and sinks her into a bath so overloaded by bubbles from an overeager house-elf that she nearly disappears into them.

The house elves send food and Harrie picks at apple slices with peanut butter and sliced fruit with slick little fingers.

He sinks himself onto a conjured stool beside the tub and does not even once think about what anyone would think about Lord Voldemort sitting at the side of a child’s bathtub.

Instead, he rolls his sleeves and pulls bubbles into little animal shapes to move around her head. Sends an Erumpet charging through a bubble-boulder, a snake winding over her head, a little fluttering pixie that blows bubbles out of its little bubble mouth.

Her laughter is sweeter than that one echoing sound of it he heard once in his chest— sweeter than any sound, in truth, in all the years he’s been alive or a shade or something caught between the two.

Harrie laughs and giggles and soaks until she’s pink and pruned, until all the filth of those muggles is nothing more than dirt sinking down the drain.

After, when he plucks her out of the tub and wraps her in a too-large towel, she stands between his bent knees and shivers in the chill outside of the tub, the fluffy thick, white towel tugged up to her mouth as she blinks at him all wide-eyed and green; hopeful, resigned, curious, cautious.

“Are you real?” she asks, her voice small and muffled as he rubs his hands briskly over her shoulders and back to warm her up again.

His anger is a sudden and ice-cold dagger inside of him. Harrie's brows furrow and her body tightens, shoulders tensing, pulling the towel higher and tighter until its right under her nose.

He reigns it in, swallowing it down and resumes rubbing over her shoulders and back. “Yes, I’m real,” he says, as light and easy as he can manage. “Do I not feel real?”

She shrugs her little shoulders and leans into him, tucking her head against his shoulder. She’s warm and damp and he can feel it soaking into his clothes slowly, but he wraps her up in his arms and lets her burrow closer, still clutching at the towel but pressing herself into him.

“I’m real,” he says as her hair soaks his shoulder and she turns her head and presses her cheek against his chest. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Harrie.”

She’s quiet, her body slowly easing in his arms as her shivers subside. “You promise you’re real?”

“I promise.”

                                     (Albus has lost the right to be remembered. He’ll be no more than those muggles dead in Four Privet Drive, a smear of bug guts on glass.

He’ll leave the man to rot in a field, he thinks. 

Nothing but dead and rotting meat.)

                                                                                               I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

She’s curled up against his side, Tales of Beetle the Bard, sits splayed open on the other half of the bed, but there’s no story she likes hearing more than the one he’ll tell her and only her, in the low light of her bedroom, half-asleep and pressed up as close as she can get to him.

He’s warm and so big and Harrie never feels like she can get close enough, no matter where she tucks her head or how hard her hand curls into his shirt. His heartbeat is steady and familiar, even when it wasn’t. Even when she isn’t sure she knew his face, she thinks she always knew him.

I had to put myself back together, he’ll say, with his fingers on her cheek or her scar, his voice this low-rolling thing that fills her up so nicely, rumbling out of his chest and into her. You were my little guide in the dark for all my scattered parts.

She doesn’t like the idea of him being apart but in her mind he’s like a puzzle and she’s piecing him back together with her own little hands, fitting all his edges into hers the way her still-bony knees and elbows fit so nicely into the warmth of his chest or under his arm. The way her cheek will fit hotly against his shoulder and she can hear that wave-like whump-bump of his heart that always reminds of her when she was in her cupboard and it was dark and empty but not so empty at all. When she’d shut her eyes and plug her ears to cover the sound of the Dursleys forgetting about her. In the quiet, in the press of her palms, she’d hear that ocean-like sound, whump-bump, whump-bump.

It’s her favourite place to be, listening to that sound inside of him; her ear pressed up against his shoulder or chest and she thinks he knows it, too, because sometimes he’ll slide his hand over her cheek until it covers her other ear, until the world fades away and there’s nothing but that sound. Nothing but the weight of his palm, his fingers in her hair and his thumb tracing slowly over the edges of her scar.

Whumpbump.

                                                                                              There’s a man kneeling on the floor, and he’s bound in shackles and he looks at Harrie with the saddest look Harrie’s ever seen, like those dark paintings she’s seen hanging on the walls in the Malfoy’s long hallways, their faces twisted and dark.

The man in front of her and Tom says her name like it’s something other than just a name.

“Harrie,” he says with a face that twists almost painfully towards tears. Harrie, I’m so sorry—

She doesn’t know what he’s sorry for, but one of the Death Eaters standing next to him yanks a thick silver chain that’s attached to a thick silver collar around his neck and the man grits his teeth as his eyes flash yellow and something growls low in his throat as he winces in pain.

Tom carries her as he walks in front of the man, but there’s a smile on his face just for her, and in her ear he says: he thought he could hide you from me, like it’s a funny little secret just for them.

Harrie almost laughs, burrowing her smile into his chest instead; she doesn’t think it’s the right place to laugh, it’s too cold and tight in the room. It doesn’t feel right. But it’s funny all the same and she feels it bubble inside of her because—

Because Tom hunted giants for her, she knows the story; she was hidden away like a princess in those adventures in her picture books.

The half-giant came thundering through the rubble and stole you away from the battle right when I’d finally found you.

The giant had been the one to leave her with the Dursleys, Tom said.

Sometimes, Harrie thinks she remembers it, this cracking roar of a sound that she thinks must’ve been the giant; she remembers being carried so high up that it must have been something very tall carrying her.

He was the key to finding you, he’d tell her whenever she asked for the story, and I fought him until he fell like a great, old tree and then I cracked him open until he spilled all those terrible secrets in his thick, giant head.

It’s silly, she thinks, that anyone could think Tom wouldn’t find her. The man kneeling in front of them should have known better.

“This one,” Tom says as he shifts Harrie in his arms and walks around the chained man. “Was one of Albus’ most loyal little dogs. But he’s been hiding away in the muggle world, hasn’t he? Like the little traitor he is.”

The last comes out sharper, harder, and Harrie feels Tom’s anger in her belly; sometimes she’ll get echoes of it when he tells the story but it’s brighter now, more real.

It isn’t just a bedtime story, she knows, no matter how many times she asks for him to tell it. She knows it’s all real.

Tom fought giants for her.

“Not even a dog,” Tom says and then he smiles again and presses it into Harrie’s cheek until Harrie looks at him and wraps her arms around his neck and drops her cheek to the thick of his shoulder to watch the bound man from the comfort of Tom’s heartbeat beneath her ear when he pulls back.

“No, not a dog,” he says lightly. “But we’ll let him find himself, won’t we, sweet girl? We’ll show him what sort of beast he truly is.”

The man swallows and jerks in his chains, his eyes closing as his shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry, Harrie.”

She frowns and fiddles with a button on Tom’s shirt, blinking at the man; she doesn’t know what to think about him, only that he’s awfully silly for thinking Tom wouldn’t find her, and must not be that smart to think he could hide.

Tom’s very, very good and Hide and Seek. He always finds her.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Tom says lightly. “We should go to the beach, shouldn’t we?”

Harrie sits straighter in his arms, glancing at the other man. She doesn’t think Tom means to bring him along, they usually only go to the beach together but… “Just us?”

Tom chuckles and nods. “Just us. He’ll be much too busy tonight, I’m afraid. He’s been cooped up and hiding for so long, I’d imagine he needs some time to be himself, hm?” he pinches her side, his smile growing at her laughter before he turns his head to look at the other man. “And he must be quite hungry, I’d imagine.”

                                                                                                           Nagini, Tom tells her, holding her in the waist-deep water along the edges of the lake as the snake slides through the waters around them like a glimmer of dark oil just under the surface. She’s big and long and endless, circling Tom’s waist, brushing slickly against Harrie’s toes where they dig into his hip.

She isn’t sure if she’s afraid, because Tom’s with her and nothing bad will happen to her if he’s there, she knows, but she clings on a little tighter to his shoulders, peering down into the dark waters, the sun above them lighting only the first few inches, just enough to see the metallic, colourful scales along the snake’s skin as she circles them.

Tom walks further into the water, until it laps coolly over her waist and his stomach and she’s only half-listening but ever attuned to his voice in her ear.

Naga’s prefer the water, he says, but Nagini loves to hunt in the fields. Fat cows and wild deer, the bigger the better. She’ll squeeze and squeeze, he says, his arms tightening around her, until they fall asleep, and then…

He pinches her side and makes her squeal out a laugh and slosh the water around them as he sinks them up to their shoulders.

She’ll bite them, quick and sharp, sinking her venom into them.

You’d be nothing to swallow up, he teases, a little mouthful. A little appetizer with sharp little bones.

You wouldn’t let her eat me, Harrie insists.

No? he asks, with his crooked smile that makes her whole tummy do this happy little dance and makes her grin back as she shakes her head, the damp edges of her hair flying around them.

I’m not food.

Aren’t you? he says, with a laugh as he takes her hand in his and moves it out into the water to stroke over Nagini’s winding scales. What are you then?

Yours, she says and his grin is wide and so happy she can feel it, like little bursts along her insides.

You are, he says and brushes his nose over the soft of her cheek before he lets out a little snarl and bites her cheek lightly. You’re mine to eat up, aren’t you?

Harrie squirms in his arms, giggling at the scrape of his teeth over the soft of her cheek, before she bites him back, snapping her little teeth at him, her nose scrunching with a growl. No. I’ll eat you. She says and wraps her arms around his neck, tighter and tighter. Like Nagini, she decides, I’ll swallow you up.

He laughs into her shoulder, and she barely pulls in a breathless squeal of surprise when he dunks them both into the water, Nagini winding around them, her voice as smooth as silk.

Hello, little hatchling. He’s been hunting for you for ssso long.

                                                     The door creaks open and he glances up, even though he already knows who it is, sneaking into the room. Though, he thinks, sneaking isn’t quite the word for it.

His girl slips sleepily into his office, clutching a throw blanket from her bedroom around herself, her hair wild and her eyes heavy with sleep. Her bare feet quiet little pats in the lull in the room, the blanket dragging behind her like a cloak.

Abraxas’ lips turn up at the sight, hiding a smile in the way he leans on his elbow, his fist just covering his mouth. Bellatrix’s jaw tightens in irritation, as young and too eager as she is vicious and cruel.

Severus watches the girl, his mind carefully, perfectly blank.

Harrie stumbles up to his side and he turns in his chair, letting her clamber onto his lap, pressing her warm cheek into his chest as she curls up in her blanket. She grabs at his arm, dragging it over her middle, a soft little pout in her lip.

“Spoiled girl,” he whispers before shifting her, settling her more comfortably on his lap, listening to her little inhale and sigh, feeling the curl of her hand into the front of his shirt, holding onto him.

She’s asleep in moments, the gentle hum of her mind always at the back of his, fades into a soft, blurry thing full of contentment.

“The papers are already running the story,” Abraxas continues after clearing his throat and schooling his face. “The attack on the Ministry will be blamed on the Order. I edited the article myself, malcontents targeting Purebloods and Minister Bagnold, who so recently and tragically lost his wife to the very same violent insurgents.”

“How terrible,” Tom smiles, feeling that same contentment that comes with Harrie’s steady heartbeat against his. “I look forward to tomorrow’s paper.”

                                               Albus dies alone a week later. A poisoned candy rotting away in his stomach.

(He lets them bury him and lets them mourn. He takes Harrie to Italy for the week and lets her press gelato-sticky kisses to his cheek in the heat of the Italian sun and the salty spray of the ocean. He’s never been partial to lemon, but he smiles around glass after glass of Limoncello and laughs at the face Harrie makes when she insists on tasting it.)

Lemon has never tasted better, he thinks.

  (He digs him up when they get back. Strips him naked before dumping him in a field just outside of Hogwarts wards. No final words, no victorious speech; Harrie’s waiting for him already, tucked into his bed no matter how many times he carries her back to her own.)

 Victory, Tom realises, looks entirely different now:

Sleep-warm cheeks, bony knees in his ribs, a little reaching hand that curls around his finger. 

                                   .

.

[straight-outta-kaer-morhen]

Timing <Vernon Roche>

My Vernon Roche obsession continues...

The edge of the bar dug into her back as she pressed against it. Soldiers were shouting over card games, while others were caught up in the thrill of their dice roll. Catching the glass of Temerian Rye the bartender slid her way she took a few sips. The Commander leaned over the bar ordering a second round. Blue linen brushed her arm as he turned to settle next to her. “None of the men interest you?” He inquired, nudging her smaller frame with his shoulder. 

A blush threatened to bloom on her cheeks. “I wouldn’t say that.” She mumbled, taking a sip of the burning liquid. 

Chip. Chip. Chip. (E/C) eyes flickered over to Roche’s hands as he sparked up a pipe. The scent of tobacco flooding her senses. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something more, but Ves’s voice called from a table by the fire. “Commander! (Y/N)! Up for a round of Gwent?” 

A smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she sauntered over to the table. Taking a seat at the table she grabbed the Northern Realms deck sorting through the cards. Vernon took a seat next to Ves. Smoke filled the air as the pair laid cards down in silence. “Torrential Rain?” Ves whined, throwing her cards down. “Pass.” She grumbled, picking up the coin they were using to keep track of rounds. 

(Y/N) drew another card as the round winner, before laying a hero card down. “Geralt of Rivia.” Ves mused, lost in pleasant memory.

A fine brow crooked up at Ves, “I take it there's a story?” (Y/N) inquired, her eyes flickering down to the painted portrait of the White Wolf.  

“Let’s just say the stories about Witcher stamina are completely true.” A loud coughing came from Roche as he sat his glass of ale down. 

“Fuck, I’ll toast to that.” (Y/N) said, with a tilt of her glass. Vernon looked at them incredulously, “when, how?” His words were jumbled before he cut himself off. “I don’t want to know.” He mumbled, waiving Ves off. 

“But I do, spill.” (Y/N) said leaning forward, eager to be privy to Ves’ information. 

A mischievous smile appeared on Ves’ porcelain face. “Well for starters, three rounds wouldn’t sate him.” A small giggle escaped her lips, as she took in Vernon’s tense shoulders as he inhaled the smoke from his pipe. 

“And you…” (Y/N) trailed off. 

“Came?” Ves finished for her. “Every single round.” 

“Damn.” (Y/N) said, throwing another card down. “Maybe I should find a Witcher.” 

Ves gaped at the board, “did you really just distract me, so you could win at Gwent?” 

A smirk appeared on (Y/N)’s lips. “I saw an advantage and took it.” Ves’ eyes flickered between Vernon and the board as (Y/N) made her way to the bar for another round. “She’s ruthless.”

Chocolate eyes watched her at the bar as a soldier sidled up next to her. Wooden chair legs scraped against the floor as his legs carried him over to the bar. “Commander.” The soldier said, surprised by his presence. 

“You’re dismissed.” His smoldering gaze locking on her wide eyes. The young soldier was quick to scurry away leaving the two alone. “You’re cunning.” He stated, taking a step closer. Her heart thudded in her chest at his proximity. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol contorting her vision, or if Vernon Roche was blatantly checking her out. “Any man worth a damn can give you three rounds.” He added, his breath fanning her neck. His thumb ghosted against her chin tilting her head up to his gaze, “especially when that woman is you.” 

“Commander?” In an instant Vernon Roche had crossed the room, as if nothing had happened. (Y/N)’s jaw went slack, as her eyes followed the outline of his broad back. Her eyes shifted over to the table Ves had occupied. The blonde was caught up in another game of Gwent with a medic. (Y/N) stumbled out of the tavern into the night air, hoping the cold air would give her some clarity to the situation. She could chalk it up to the drink. Perhaps it would be best if she returned to her tent. 

Vernon’s chocolate eyes snapped toward the door when he heard it close. He cursed himself as he bit down on the pipe stem. Usually he was able to keep a tight lid on his thoughts, but lately he found words slipping from his tongue in (Y/N)’s presence. He definitely didn’t mean to admit to the more primal urges he felt for her. He could blame it on the alcohol, but the truth was he hadn’t even finished his second beer. He was stone cold sober when it slipped out. Leaning against a wooden pillar he watched a dice game without his eyes actually seeing. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back from fully expressing his feelings. 

Ves studied Vernon for a moment before deciding to speak, “it’s obvious you like her.” A sharp look that would cut most soldiers to the core met her cornflower eyes. “Just go for it. She’s crazy about you.” Ves added. “Trust me.” 

He lingered in his thoughts. After a few puffs of smoke he made his way back to camp. Making up his mind he would express his true feelings he followed the path to her tent. Outside the small tent he called her name. There was no reply, and no sound came from the inside of the tent. Peeking inside he saw her curled up on the cot asleep. She hadn’t even bothered removing her boots. 

Taking a seat at the edge of her bed he unlaced the boots setting them next to her cot. Grabbing a quilt he tucked it over her. Candlelight illuminated her features, and Vernon took the opportunity to study her face. He hadn’t noticed how thick her lashes were, or how long her hair was. Most of the time she had it pulled up, so it didn’t interfere with her daily tasks. He made his way to the candle before blowing it out.

“I’ll tell you later.” His deep voice settled in the tent as he left her to sleep in peace.

*

**

It was another campsite in the middle of Temeria. (Y/N) crested the hill, eyes bright, her assumption was correct. A blanket of stars littered the sky. Pulling the thin blanket from her satchel she spread it on the grass. Leaning back on her hands she took in the night sky. 

“Am I interrupting?” Ves’s voice hissed from the tree line, soliciting a smile from (Y/N). 

“Care to join?” (Y/N) asked, scooting over on the blanket. Ves jumped up excitedly, practically pulling the Commander of the Blue Stripes up the hill behind her.  

Both of them smelled strongly of alcohol and smoke. They’d joined the others at the tavern earlier before trekking into the valley to find her. Ves offered her a bottle, but (Y/N) waved her off. Ves shrugged, taking a long pull from the bottle before handing it to Vernon. 

“Why do you wander off by yourself?” Ves inquired, tilting her head in (Y/N)’s direction.  

(Y/N) shrugged, “I like the silence.” Truth was she came out here to contemplate her thoughts. She still wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the words Roche had said to her at the bar. He hadn’t acted differently the next morning, so she assumed she’d made it up in her drunken haze, but some part of her told her it had all been real. “I can hear myself think.” 

Ves grew quiet, “what do you think about?” 

“Sometimes it takes me time to process how I feel, or why I feel it.” 

Vernon’s brow furrowed. Logic ruled his decision making, he rarely let his feelings intervene. Which is why he made such an excellent commander. (Y/N) had always been reserved in his presence, but he wanted to know what ran across her mind everyday. Part of him hoped he held a place deep in her thoughts. “What does your instinct tell you?” Vernon asked, leaning closer to her. Y/N felt his fingers touch her’s, but he made no move to retract his hand, or offer a half hearted excuse.

 Ves had wandered off at some point. Tired of watching the longing stares, she was determined to push the two together. Both too stubborn to make the first move, Ves saw no harm in speeding the process along. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. He knew what had clouded her mind as of late. She’d been mulling his words over for weeks trying to decide if she’d heard him right, and here he was confirming what she already knew. “Did you actually mean that?” She inquired, “what you said at the tavern.” 

Vernon’s deep chuckle sounded like honey in her ears, “I mean everything I say.” Chocolate eyes flickered over to her, “you’re everything I’m not. Warm, kind, and gods that smile.” He brought his thumb up to run down her soft lips. 

“You’re drunk,” she murmured, hypnotized by his gaze. 

The corner of his mouth pulled into a half smile, “that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” 

“I can’t take advantage of you. It goes against my honor.” She teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

He let out a wolfish laugh at the thought of her taking advantage of him. “Fair enough.” He conceded, “we’ll get the timing right. Eventually.” 

*

**

*

Vernon Roche had headed straight for her tent as soon as Ves gave him news of the ambush. His blood felt thick pumping through his veins as he played out the different scenarios in his brain. 

His keen ears almost missed the muffled sobs coming from her tent. Ducking inside the tent he found her face buried in her hands, as sobs wracked her body. Ves had told him she’d been the only one to survive the ambush. She’d dragged another soldier back to the Medical tent, but he’d died as soon as they got him on the table. 

“You did everything you could.” His words were soft, afraid anything else might startle her as he took a seat next to her. 

Jumping at the sound of his voice she wiped at her eyes, “I’m sorry Commander, I-.”

“Vernon...just call me Vernon.” He said, gently coaxing her to sit back down. “I didn’t come here as your Commander.” Soft eyes took her in, she’d been through hell in the past 24 hours, and the only thing he wanted to do was hold her. “I was worried about you.” He confessed, “I just needed to see you. To know you were safe.”

(Y/N) leaned against him, “can you hold me?”

Vernon nodded, pulling her close. He smoothed her hair. “You feel everything so deeply,” he murmured, “you don’t have to carry it alone.” 

Pulling back slightly, she gazed up into his chocolate eyes. “Are you saying that you want me?” 

Vernon Roche nodded, gently caressing her jaw with her thumb, “I’m saying that I love you.” 

She pulled him into a deep kiss, before settling into him. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, pulling her close once more. Content he finally got the timing right. 

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The moon cut through Lorcan’s bedroom window. He shivered slightly and turned over in bed, reaching for the warm body beside him. He couldn’t feel her and fucking whined, like a gods-damned dog, when his searching motions didn’t find her. “Sweetheart,” Lorcan mumbled, “c’mere, I need you.” 

He still couldn’t reach her and sighed, slowly sitting up. As he scrubbed his eyes, Lorcan half turned and lifted his hand to rest it on her back, “Elide–” he fell silent when his hand thudded dully on the mattress. 

Lorcan looked more carefully, realising the space beside him was… empty.

Fuck, Elide had to have snuck out at some point. Sheets were still warm, so she couldn’t have been far. Even in the summer, Terrasen nights were cold and she’d be freezing. Lorcan figured he could catch her and convince her to come back, or at least so he could walk with her. 

He got out of bed and stalked out of his bedroom. His straight path to the door was paused when he noticed a figure sitting on the windowsill. “Elide? Is that you?” His voice grated through his throat. 

She sniffled, “I’m fine. Just- it was just a dream. Go back to bed, stupid.” 

Lorcan didn’t listen to her - he hardly ever did - and walked over to her. He did it slowly, noticing how she had shaken when he first stormed out. When he got to her, he crouched down in front of her and pushed his hair back with one hand. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, reaching his hand up to cup her cheek. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” Elide wept, resting her head in his hand. 

Lorcan held in his sigh and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “It’s ok, Elide. No one’s gonna hurt you here, it’s just me.” 

“Yeah, well,” she hiccuped, “you’re a giant. You could hurt me if you want to.” 

He shook his head, “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kinda a badass, Lochan. Even more than me, and that’s saying a lot.” Elide rolled her eyes and chuckled quietly. As he sat down, his hand dropped to her right calf. Elide tensed, but Lorcan could feel scar tissue. Swallowing once, Lorcan flicked his eyes to it. Her smooth, alabaster skin was unblemished and perfect, save for the scars that traveled across her ankle. “Did you dream about your injury?” 

Elide nodded when he looked back up at her, “Yeah.” 

Lorcan’s heart stuttered with guilt. If he hadn’t asked her about it the previous night, Elide would’ve been fine. But instead, he had brought up old, painful memories and put her in an unfamiliar place. He was a fucking bastard. “I’m sorry,” Lorcan whispered. “Do you want me to drive you back to the castle?” 

She shook her head, sniffling once, “No. I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Ok,” he said, calmly standing up. Elide flinched again and Lorcan clenched his jaw so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he chipped a tooth. Vernon Lochan was living on borrowed fucking time and Lorcan had half a mind to remind him of that. “We can do that.” 

“You’ll stay with me?” Elide asked, looking up at him in… hope. It tore at his heart. Tentatively, she reached her hand out. Her fingers trembled and Lorcan took her hand. 

He nodded, pushing his hair back again with his free hand, “For as long as you want, Elide.” Elide slowly stood up and Lorcan, without hesitation, scooped her up into his arms. He went to walk back, but paused, looking down at the woman he held, “Is this ok?” 

Nodding, Elide rested her head against his shoulder. She didn’t say a word, but he felt her relax into him. 

Lorcan walked into his bedroom. He set her down and settled beside her on his back. Lorcan didn’t move to touch her, to let her choose what she wanted to do. Elide shifted slowly and carefully. She was tense as if he would react violently to anything she did. 

She turned away from him and then reached back to grip his forearm. Elide pulled it across her stomach, making him follow and curl around her. They fit effortlessly together. Elide’s head was tucked beneath his chin and as she pressed herself into his chest, Lorcan slid his arms around her. He had the urge to kiss the top of her head and he did so, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo, “You good, sweetheart?” 

Elide hummed and smiled. She turned her face to kiss his shoulder, “I’m good. Now.” 

He was thankful for the darkness and the fact that Elide was facing away from him as his cheeks heated, “Good.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide woke up with her face cradled in the crook of a tattooed arm. Her nose was smushed against Lorcan’s bicep and her eyelashes fluttered against his skin as she opened her eyes. 

A smile grew over her face as she studied him. Lorcan was breathing evenly. His nose twitched when strands of hair slid over his face and Elide laughed softly, reaching up to push it away. Her light touch had him humming and opening his eyes. 

Lorcan looked down at her, curled in his arms and quietly happy. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice lower and hoarser than usual. It had Elide curling her toes, pressing her face back into his chest. 

“Hello,” she whispered. Elide smiled again, knowing she had nowhere to be. The wedding wasn’t for another four days and… the wedding. She wasn’t supposed to be here and definitely not here, waking up in another man’s bed and arms. 

The realisation seemed to hit them at the same time as Lorcan stiffened and let his arm fall away. Elide slowly sat up, swinging her legs to the side of the mattress. She thought about making a joke on how her toes just barely touched the thick carpet beneath the bed, but it wasn’t the time. “I should go.” 

The bed dipped as Lorcan stood, “Can I get you a coffee for your troubles?” 

She chuckled, shaking her head as she too stood and turned to face him. “I shouldn’t. I’ve been away for too long now.” 

“Of course,” he said. Lorcan tossed her the hoodie she was wearing the night before. Sleeping next to him was like sleeping next to a furnace so, eventually, Elide had had to rip it off and throw it onto the chair in the corner. 

Elide caught her hoodie and tugged it on, pushing her hair back and redoing her ponytail. She dug her phone out of her pocket, squinting at the slew of notifications she had missed. Fenrys had called a few times, before giving up and sending her a text hoping she was safe. 

Aelin had called, Lysandra too. Rowan had just texted her, telling her to call him if she needed help. 

“Have they sent out a search party yet?” 

She laughed, “No, not yet.” Elide pocketed the device and they both left the room. 

Lorcan started making coffee as Elide used the bathroom. 

By the time she was done, the rich scent of a dark roast filled the air. Elide looked forlornly towards his mug and Lorcan smirked, “You want some?” 

She was already grabbing another mug and filling it halfway. Elide slid into the seat opposite his and drank deeply, sighing happily at the reviving elixir. “Oh, I love you.” 

“Talking to me or the coffee there, sweetheart?” 

Elide scoffed, kicking his shin hard under the table. Lorcan jolted, a hiss of pain freed from his lips. “The coffee, of course. You, I loathe.” 

His eyes glowed with delight as he sipped his coffee. Elide matched his sip, blaming the warmth in her stomach on the hot drink and nothing, nothing else. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was on his third cup as Elide slid her shoes on. He leaned against the wall next to the door, holding it open for her when she stood up. 

Elide stepped out onto the little porch and spun back to face him as he leaned against the doorframe. She flashed him a blinding grin, so big her nose scrunched and her irises disappeared. Lorcan smiled, still not letting his teeth show, but his eyes said everything the grin didn’t. “Whatever will they say, sweetheart? A betrothed duchess-to-be spending her night with the man trying to steal her throne? Scandalous.” 

She laughed, smacking his shoulder. On impulse, Elide rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She lost her balance and quickly, Lorcan caught her with his arms around her waist. Elide rested her hands on his chest, idly tracing the line of ink that came over his shoulder, “I had a nice time, Salvaterre. You might say the same.” 

Lorcan laughed and leaned down. A shiver went down her spine when his lips brushed against her cheekbone and then the shell of her ear. Elide turned her head to the side, distracted by a flash of movement that caught her eye. 

He started to whisper something, but Elide was frozen. She stared, agape, directly at the camouflaged photographer and the big, black camera they carried. Immediately, her heart sunk and her throat tightened to the point of pain, “Oh my gods.” 

She pushed Lorcan away, looking up at him with the most heartbroken expression he had ever seen. “You fucking bastard.” 

“Sweetheart—“

Elide shoved his chest, “Don’t you dare call me that right now. How could you?” She pointed at the paparazzi, tears stinging her eyes, “You’ve ruined everything.” 

Lorcan followed her pointed finger, stiffening when he saw the photographer. “El, I didn’t know—“ 

“Fuck you,” she whispered, slapping his arm away when he tried to reach for her. 

“Sweetheart, I didn’t fucking know,” he said, “I didn’t tell anyone!” 

Elide shook her head as she backed away from him, “Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t talk to me, just leave me alone.” 

The light in his eyes shattered and he took one single step after her retreating form, “Elide…” 

She didn’t bother sticking around for whatever bullshit he would spew. Elide took one last look at the cameraman and fled, sprinting back up the path Lorcan had led her down last night. 

As she passed the curve, she almost laughed at herself for thinking what she had thought. Elide pushed herself faster, and faster, and faster still. 

There were no cars on the highway as she flew down the shoulder, quickly eating up the kilometre between Lorcan’s house and the palace. 

Her throat was burning, her lungs greedily gulping down any and all oxygen they could get. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she lied to herself, pretending it was because of the sting of the crisp morning air. 

She cut away onto a path that wound through the wall of trees and dense forest to the back entrance. The trail was bouncy and soft beneath her feet as Elide raced through, the flora a green blur to her. 

Elide held back sobs, knowing if she broke down anywhere other than her room, the media would find her and pictures of her breakdown would be splashed across every paper and magazine. She refused to give Lorcan the satisfaction. 

The palace walls came into view and Elide almost collapsed in relief. She didn’t slow down at all as she neared the back gate and slammed it open. Glancing around the small courtyard, she didn’t see a single person as she sprinted through to the door. 

Elide ran to the back stairs, racing up. As she neared the top step, a stabbing pain shot up her leg through her ankle and Elide tripped. 

She was sent sprawling across the floor. Her chin slammed into the marble and Elide cried out in pain. Gritting her teeth against the feeling, she pushed herself up to sitting. 

Elide leaned back against the wall, her vision blurring. She couldn’t hold back anymore and sobbed quietly, dropping her head into her hands. Her shoulders shook, her body racked with sobs. 

“Oh gods, Elide?” 

She only cried harder at Fenrys’ voice, not looking up until she felt a presence kneeling before her. There was only concern shining on her friend’s face as Fenrys reached out to gently tug Elide’s hands away, “Elide, love.” 

“I got played,” Elide whispered, sniffling sadly. “He played me.” It was as if her heart literally cracked in her chest and it cracked so violently, Fenrys had to have heard it. 

Fenrys pulled her up to standing, letting Elide lean against him. The young lord took most of Elide’s weight as they walked slowly down the hall to Elide’s rooms. 

When they were safely inside, Elide wrapped her arms around Fenrys’ neck, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m such an idiot, Fen. I’m- I’m so fucking dumb.” Fenrys just held her tighter, cupping the back of Elide’s head and slowly rocking her side to side. “I- I went- and then-” Elide choked, her words tumbling over themselves as she tried to explain. She needed to explain. 

Fenrys just shushed her softly and guided her to her bedroom. Elide only let go to climb into her bed, but the moment Fenrys sat down next to her, she was clinging to him like she would be forever lost without him. 

“I got played,” she repeated dumbly. Tears slid down her cheeks anew, her face crumpling, “Why would he do that, I thought—” Elide cut herself off, unable to voice her foolish hopes.

He lied to me. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El,” Fenrys said, gently nudging her. 

Elide hummed, sniffling sadly, “Yeah?” 

His face was tight, almost wincing in guilt, “Um, Aelin’s coming to see you. She’s… worried.” 

Elide panicked, her breaths coming faster and faster. She sat up, already looking for something to hide behind, or something that would make her smaller, “Fen- I- I’m in so much trouble, I-” she cut herself off, already scratching her arm. “You have to help me leave, she’ll murder me, she’ll be so mad–” 

“Hey, hey, Lochan,” Fenrys soothed her, gently gripping her hands. “Breathe in with me, love.” 

He inhaled deeply, through his nose, exhaling exaggeratedly through his mouth. Elide copied him, closing her eyes and trying to focus.  

“Aelin is worried, ok? She’s been worried the whole night. All she wants to do is make sure that you’re ok. That’s all.” 

Elide nodded, still breathing slowly, “You’ll stay, right?” 

Fenrys nodded, pulling her back into his side, “‘Course I will.” She curled into his side, grateful that he held onto her hands. When he moved slightly, Elide panicked, lifting up to stop him. Fenrys shook his head, making a soothing sound, “I’m just gonna text Aelin to let her know where we are. I’m staying the whole time, honeybunch.” 

Elide smiled at the nickname, nodding as she settled back down. 

“Everything will work out, Ellie,” Fenrys said, resting his chin on top of her head. 

She nodded again, not saying a word. 

Not even five minutes later, her bedroom door slammed open and in shot a flash of gold. Before Elide could prepare herself, Aelin had wrapped her arms around her, squeezing the breath out of Elide. 

Elide hugged her back, pressing her face into Aelin’s shoulder, “Ae–” 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Aelin cried, pulling back and cupping Elide’s face. “I was so worried, love! I couldn’t sleep. Come here, let me have a look at you.” The queen twisted Elide’s head this way and that, virtually checking every strand of hair on Elide’s head. She gripped Elide’s jaw, checking over her face. “I’m so glad you’re back, oh, love.” 

For the first time in hours, it seemed, Elide smiled, gently gripping Aelin’s wrists, “I’m ok, Ae. I’m not hurt.” Physically. “I’m sorry for wrecking everything.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes, shaking her head, “There’s nothing I can’t fix. But,” she became serious, pulling back slightly, but still, her hands stayed on Elide’s face, gentle, soothing, “you have to tell me what happened. We all need to be on the same page, to show a united front.” 

Elide nodded, blowing out a long breath. 

“Good, now, let’s get to my office. We’ll meet everyone, get you some food, and figure this whole thing out, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Elide agreed, smiling when Aelin leaned forward to kiss her cheek. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The footage was grainy and shaking, but Elide could still clearly see herself standing on Lorcan’s porch, smiling up at him. 

Nobody made a sound as they all watched, faces set and serious. Her stomach rolled with nausea as Elide watched herself rock onto her tiptoes to kiss Lorcan’s cheek. Smoothly, almost too smoothly, when she stumbled, his arms slid around her waist. 

They looked like a couple, saying good-bye in the morning. It looked natural and that was the thing that disgusted Elide the most. That she looked comforted in his arms. That she gave him a soft, shy grin. 

In that grin said everything Elide would never be able to tell Fenrys. Things neither of them would be able to feel. 

She fussed over her outgrown nails, steadily peeling and picking the iridescent acrylic off. Her nail artist would be irritated with her, for ruining all the hard work she’d put in and because improper removal damaged the natural nail. 

Elide felt her cheeks heat as they continued watching. On screen, Lorcan leaned down and Elide turned her head to the side, her face draining of all colour as her eyes locked on the camera. 

She shoved him away, snapping something harsh before slapping his hand away. Lorcan was the epitome of hurt shock, his brows furrowing in an effort to hide his pain. 

When Elide backed away, he followed her for one step. She was shaking her head, her hands curled into fists to stop the shaking. 

The footage ended before she could turn and run away. Images of her and Fenrys at various events, wearing bright smiles, flashed over the screen as Remelle’s affected voice rang out, “It seems not all is sunshine and smiles for the betrothed couple! Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth, was seen looking very cozy with Lorcan Salvaterre, the man challenging her claim as the future duchess.” 

The photos faded away to reveal Remelle sitting behind her desk, her hands resting clasped on the sleek glass surface. “The royal family has never been drama free, but this generation of leaders seem to have little care. The queen herself is not shy of the camera and has no doubt influenced little Elide–” 

Elide reached over, turning off the TV before Remelle could pin the blame on Aelin. The others let out long breaths, nodding slightly to themselves. Lysandra spoke first, “Well. That is… something.” Elide shot her an apologetic look, but the green-eyed beauty waved her off with an excited beam, “Please, I live for this stuff! We haven’t had a scandal in quite some time.” 

Elide chuckled humorlessly, “I’m glad I can be of some use.” 

Lysandra nodded distractedly, getting lost in her work. “I’ve already drafted a public statement from you and Fen and called some people.” 

The some people sounded ominous, but Elide didn’t comment on it. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide trudged back to her rooms, feeling… drained. She’d told her friends that she didn’t need them to stay with her and luckily, they hadn’t pushed the issue. 

She just knew, that if one of them was with her, they’d try to distract her, to make her smile and Elide… she wanted to be sad. For a little while, she didn’t want to pretend that everything was alright. 

Nothing was alright. She was alone and painfully reminded of that as the doors to her rooms shut, the sound seeming to echo through the emptiness of the hallway and all subsequent rooms. 

She kicked off her slippers, not caring where they landed. Elide walked down to her bedroom and opened the door. For a while, she stood on the threshold, unmoving. 

The ball of fur that was her dog came loping over, lovingly bumping her nose into Elide’s leg. Bear whined softly, her tail hanging low for once. 

Elide idly patted Bear’s large head. As she stared into her bedroom, all she could see was his room. In the place of her bed was Lorcan’s, but instead of neat, crisp sheets and fluffed pillows, it was her wrapped up in his arms. 

Eyes filling with tears, Elide blinked rapidly. She turned on her toes, pulling the door shut. Anywhere would be better than her room. She walked into her living room and grabbed the soft wool blanket tossed casually over the chair. 

With the blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders, Elide curled up in the bay window, blankly staring out at the grounds. Bear hopped up, pushing her head into Elide’s lap. Elide laughed slightly, leaning down to kiss the top of Bear’s head, “Hi, bub. I’m sorry I was gone last night.” She scratched Bear’s floppy ears, “I’m happy to see you.” 

The dog turned her big eyes on Elide, huffing slightly. 

Elide kissed her dog’s head once more before she leaned back against the wall. 

She watched the sky and after a while, she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her tears overflowed, spilling down her cheeks without a sound. Elide weeped for her parents, for her family. She cried for Ress and for Fenrys, for everything she had carelessly ruined. 

Though she would never admit it, to herself or anyone else, some of her tears were for Lorcan. She knew he had lied about his motives, but his father and his mom, his sisters… none of that was false. 

And because of that, maybe because of their broken stories, Elide cried for the children they had once been. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

A migraine threatened to throb behind her eyes. Elide lifted her head from the window pane she’d fallen asleep on. The movement had her wincing and hissing in discomfort. 

Very carefully, she got up and walked to her bathroom for a glass of water. The cool drink helped ease the pain. Elide sighed, grabbing a cloth to run under the tap. She pressed it to her forehead, sighing again in relief. 

She washed her face, cleansing away tear stains and remnants of mascara. Elide patted her face dry. As she contemplated doing a face mask, somebody knocked on her door. 

Elide sniffed, quickly redoing her messy bun and fixing up her hoodie so she could at least  pretend that she hadn’t been crying pathetically all day. 

Bear was lying in front of the hall stand when Elide walked out. Whoever it was knocked again, harder and sharper. “Anneith above, calm yourself, I’m coming,” Elide grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she opened the door. 

Her eyes landed on a black t-shirt stretched across an unfairly defined chest. The sight had her breath hitching and her throat aching with tears even before she looked up and saw Lorcan. Elide blocked out the remorse and sincerity shining in his eyes, not trusting him. “I meant what I said, Lorcan,” she snapped before he could open his mouth. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I know, but, El, please, I didn’t know they were there. I promise,” he said. 

Elide shook her head, closing the door. Lorcan put his hand on it, so she couldn’t close it completely, “I would never do that to you, you- please. Believe me.” 

“How am I supposed to believe you, Lorcan,” she asked, voice broken. “The first moment we met was a lie! Why should I believe anything you say to me? How can I believe anything that happened was true?” Elide was determined not to cry, but tears were brimming in her eyes. His expression changed when he saw them, something breaking. 

“Sweetheart…” Lorcan said. 

“Stop calling me that, you don’t get to call me that anymore,” Elide whispered, her lips trembling. “Tell me why I should believe a single word you say.” 

“Because I would never do that to you. And if you think I would… you know nothing about me.” 

She sniffled, wiping her eyes, “I guess I know nothing about you, then.” Without another word, Elide closed the door just as the first tears spilled down her cheeks. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan pressed his hand against the door, the other fisting by his side. He would never do that to her. He couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting her. 

He didn’t want the title and Lorcan cursed himself for not telling her he was leaving last night. His flight home was booked for the day of the wedding. Elide and Fenrys’. 

Lorcan had to let her go. With a deep breath, he spoke, “Sweetheart, I’m… I’m leaving. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He closed his eyes, cursing himself for being such an ass. “I meant to tell you last night, but I’m leaving. Perranth. I don’t want the title and I’m not contesting anything.” 

For a second, he waited - to see if she would answer, to see if she would ask him to stay or if she would… 

If she would tell him she loved him. 

And she didn’t. There wasn’t a peep from inside the doors and Lorcan nodded to himself, wondering why he thought she would answer. He stepped away, his shoulders curving inwards. 

When he turned to walk away, he saw Aelin standing at the end of the hall, a tray of tea and food in her hands. “Ae–” 

“You love her,” she said quietly, looking between Lorcan and the door. “You’re in love with–” 

“Aelin, please. Don’t,” Lorcan whispered, shaking his head as he walked down the hall. “I don’t need to ruin anything more than I already have. Elide is happy and that-” he choked slightly, clearing his throat, “and her happiness is the only thing I care about.” 

The queen looked in dismay, “Lorcan, you make her happy. You do,” she insisted when Lorcan laughed humorlessly, “I have known that girl her entire life and even when she’s mad at you, you make her happy. I love her more than anything–” 

“So do I,” he admitted defeatedly as he rubbed his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I get to have her, ok? She doesn’t have to love me back and why should she? Everything she just fucking said is true.” 

“But–” 

Lorcan shook his head, “Not buts, your Majesty. I’m letting her go. I’m letting the title go. She has Fenrys and they make each other happy–” 

“You could make her happier,” Aelin said. 

He gave her a look, continuing his point, “They make each other happy and that matters more than me. She matters more than me. Fenrys matters more than me.”

For his sake, Lorcan supposed, Aelin held her tongue, “When are you leaving?” 

“In three days. I’m gonna go home for a while, figure some stuff out.” Lorcan was looking forward to seeing his mother, his grandma. His sisters, too, and the tribe. 

“Will you come to the wedding?” 

Lorcan snorted, “I don’t think either of them want me there, so no.” He shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor. “Ae… can you do something for me?” 

“What is it?” 

He glanced back at Elide’s doors, “Can you tell Fen I won’t be there? And say… good-bye to everyone.” 

Aelin nodded tightly, “Yeah. I can.” 

“Thank you,” Lorcan said. “I’ll let you go.” He went to turn and paused, “Um, last night… Elide had a nightmare. She said it was about her injury. She was pretty messed up about it, so just make sure she’s ok, please?” 

“Of course. Tell your grandma hi for me. And your sisters too. And your mom.” 

Lorcan nodded, stepping around her and walking away, even though every step drove the spike deeper and deeper into his heart. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El…” Aelin started as she walked out onto the balcony. She put the tray down on the low table. 

“Is he gone,” Elide asked bluntly, leaning against the railing. 

Aelin sighed, “Elide.” 

She turned around, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, “What?” Her cousin looked at her with an unimpressed look, the light in her eyes determined. Elide stopped her before she could say anything, “Ace, can you just… not? I can’t think or talk about him anymore.” 

It would break her heart clean in two, decimating the pieces Elide had worked so hard to stitch back together. “Please,” she whispered, “Aelin, don’t make me talk about him and don’t talk about him to me, because I am barely holding it together and he’s gone now and I just… I deserve to be at peace.” 

“Are you at peace, El? Without him?” 

The lie tasted foul in her mouth, her body almost physically reacting to it, “Yes. I am.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an:.........would it help if i said i was sorry. i didn’t mean it. 

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[rhysismydaddy]

The Bodyguard Pt. 5 (Elorcan)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

______________________________________________________________

This was bad. Really bad. They were completely surrounded, and even though Lorcan had fought off seven guys without much trouble, there were more than twice that amount now.

“What do we do?”

Lorcan walked around the place, locking windows and doors and pushing buttons on the device in his hands. “The landmines will take a lot of them out. Until they get within fifty yards, we wait. Then I’ll go take care of them.” His dark eyes met hers. “You’re staying here.”

Normally, she’d be brave and argue, demand to come along, but... there were a lot of dots out there. And she’d struggled earlier just walking through the forest. In the daylight.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“The windows are bulletproof, and when I leave I’m going to arm the house. Go upstairs to your room and lock the door.” He paused, seeming to have an internal argument with himself. “There’s a gun in the closet.”

She nodded again, turning to follow his instructions.

Lorcan grabbed her wrist, pulling her close to him. “Don’t you dare fucking shoot yourself.”

Was there... concern on his features? She smiled slightly. “Okay.” 

“I’m serious. Even if... even if the worst happens, it’s not over. I’ll find you. So if you shoot yourself, I’m going to be pissed.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, jerked his chin at the stairs, then headed to the door.

“Please be careful, Lorcan.”

He looked over his shoulder, giving her a rough wink. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

Then he was gone.

And she was very, very aware of his absence. Without him around, her situation became a lot more clear. They were outnumbered and outgunned, and they probably wouldn’t live through the night.

Well, Lorcan probably wouldn’t. Vernon hated her too much to let her die.

The irony wasn’t lost on her.

Elide ran upstairs, locked the bedroom door behind her, and went to the closet. Sure enough, there was a pistol in the back. She pulled it out, not knowing what to do other than make sure it was loaded.

She crawled next to the bed, practically throwing herself on the floor as she heard things start to explode. Good gods.

People were out there, fighting for their lives and losing, because of her.

More explosions went off, the sounds of gunshots joining the mixture. She pointed hers at the bedroom door, even though she hadn’t heard the house alarm go off.

Noticing her arm was shaking, she took a deep breath, replaying Lorcan’s earlier words. Even if the worst happened, he’d find her. He’d find her.

Unless he was dead.

She chastised herself for the thought. He wasn’t dying tonight.

If he died because of her, she’d never forgive herself. Yes, it was his job to protect her, but she’d put them both in this situation.

She’d get them out of it.

Elide made it about ten minutes before she decided she had to know what was going on. Keeping low to the floor, she crept towards the small, bulletproof window in the bathroom connected to her room.

When she looked outside, the woods barely visible even with the moonlight, it looked like the house had been picked up and transported from its peaceful spot in the woods to the middle of a war zone.

A fifteen to one war.

Lorcan had been right about the landmines and booby traps taking out a good portion of Vernon’s men. She saw at least five bodies on the ground, and she figured there were at least that many on the other side of the house. Hopefully.

Gods, what had her life come to that she was praying there were a lot of bodies outside?

And even if there were ten people dead because of the mines, that was still five trained killers. All after her.

She gripped the gun tighter, straightening her spine.

And that’s when she saw him.

Lorcan was sprinting through the woods, and she took the speed with which he was moving to mean he was unhurt. His arm extended, something glinted in the barely-there light, and then someone fell from a tree, crashing into the ground with a sickening snap.

Elide shuddered, not making a sound as she watched him keep running. He didn’t even slow down as he reached to the man on the ground and ripped his knife free.

Good gods. This was the man who’d kissed her scars? The man who’d held her while she cried?

Surprisingly, the thought that she’d had a natural, very skilled killer on top of her less than an hour ago didn’t bother her in the slightest. 

If anything, it made her feel special.

He was out there because of her, because he wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

Lorcan ran through the treeline, right below her window, and her heart stopped dead in her chest as someone stepped into view not twenty yards from him. He held a gun up, aimed at Lorcan, and pulled the trigger.

Elide made a strangled sound, pressing a hand over her mouth to keep it quiet, as she watched the bullet connected with his firm abdomen.

But he didn’t even slow down. He just reached to grab a gun from his waistband, and before she knew it, the man in front of him was on the ground, dead.

From the blood staining his shirt, she knew he’d been hit, but he seemed completely ignorant of the fact as he ran around the building out of view.

Elide, on the other hand, was not ignoring it. He’d been shot. 

Panic started to settle in, and she felt her throat start to close up.

No. 

She forced herself to calm down and remember his words from earlier, from all the times he’d promised her uncle would never touch her again.

This is Lorcan Salvaterre we’re talking about, she told herself. The devil himself couldn’t stop him from keeping his promise.

The thought brought a slight smile to her face.

It fell, though, as she heard a loud siren explode around her. The house alarm.

Someone was here.

Elide locked the bathroom door, pointing her gun at it once again. If someone came in to grab her, she wouldn’t go without a fight.

But then a voice called out, and everything changed.

“Elide. Come downstairs, please.”

Her uncle’s voice was completely calm, sounding as if he were asking her to do something easy. She stayed silent, and he made a tsk sound.

“I have your boyfriend,” he teased, and she tensed. “And unless you come with me willingly and give up this ridiculous fight, I’ll shoot him in the fucking head.”

Her body was shaking, but she knew better than to believe him. She’d just seen Lorcan outside, and besides the whole gunshot thing, he seemed fine. 

He had to be lying.

But then she heard something that sounded like a struggle, and a very familiar grunt met her ears.

Fuck.

Lorcan was really down there.

And he’d die if she didn’t go. Because of her.

Forcing her hands not to shake, she reached and unlocked the door, thinking at the last minute to tuck her gun into the waistband of her leggings. She walked through the bedroom with bravado she didn’t feel, then paused to peek around the banister downstairs.

Lorcan was standing in the foryer, and even though he was dressed in black, she could tell he was covered in blood. There was something around his mouth, gagging him and keeping him silent. Bruises and scrapes and cuts marked every inch of visible skin, and she shuddered as she looked at his torso. His shirt was stuck to it with blood from being shot, the sight making her feel sick. 

He looked like he’d been through hell.

But he was standing tall, and the look on his face was one of anger, not pain.

She saw the glint of a gun and knew Vernon was standing behind him, his slight frame hidden completely by Lorcan’s body.

Dark eyes met hers, and then ever so slightly, he shook his head.

Elide ignored him completely as she walked down the stairs.

Vernon peeked around his shoulder, wide smile forming when he saw her. “Little Elide. What trouble you’ve caused me.”

“Fuck you,” she replied sweetly.

His eyes narrowed, but Lorcan’s lit up with pride.

“Such harsh words, considering this-” he gestured around with his free hand, “is all your fault. All these people dead because of you. Lorcan at my mercy because of you.”

True.

Lorcan’s hands were behind his back, and she realized they were probably bound. Smart of Vernon.

“If I go with you, you let him live.”

Her uncle nodded, looking at her with a hungry, vicious look in his eyes that brought a cold sweat to her skin.

Lorcan glared at her, looking angrier than she’d ever seen him, and she knew exactly what he was trying to say. 

Realizing Vernon couldn’t see her all that well, she tapped her waist and made a little gun with her fingers. 

And she knew that if it weren’t for the bandanna around his mouth, Lorcan be smiling. He nodded.

Vernon made a disgusted sound, and said, “Let’s go Elide.”

She stepped toward him, keeping her eyes on Lorcan’s. All she had to do was get close enough and make sure he was out of the way. And then this would finally be over. She could do it, she knew she could.

Something in Vernon’s expression changed as he watched her come toward him, then a cruel smile filled his features. She stopped in her tracks, knowing in her gut something was about to go very, very wrong.

She heard a soft click, then a loud noise exploded into the room. Lorcan didn’t make a sound as blood exploded from his left shoulder. Right above his heart.

It sprayed onto Elide, and her head went empty as she realized what had happened.

He hit his knees, then the floor. 

She turned to look at her uncle in horror, fighting the urge to throw up.

“Did you really think I’d leave someone like him alive? You foolish girl.” Vernon pointed the gun on her and smiled. “We’re leaving now.”

A breath gasped out of Lorcan, and Elide realized right then there was no way in hell she was leaving him here alone to die. 

She didn’t think twice before reaching to pull the gun out of her pants.

But before she could pull the trigger, Vernon tackled her to the ground, knocking her gun to the side.

The floor below her was slick and wet, and she realized it was Lorcan’s blood. He was dying, and she had to do something about it. 

Elide growled, enjoying the look of shock on her uncle’s features. Then she used the oldest move in the book and slammed her knee up and in between his legs. His grunted and loosened his grip on her. Her hands were free, but she still couldn’t reach her gun.

But she could reach his.

She leaned as far away from him as possible, knowing that if she died now Lorcan would kick her ass in hell. 

Then she grabbed her uncle’s hand, the one holding the gun to her, twisting it away from her as hard as she could. And squeezed the trigger.

The gun went off with a loud bang, blood going everywhere. 

Her eyes flew open as Vernon collapsed onto her, unmoving eyes seeming to stare into her soul. A strangled noise escaped her as his blood oozed down onto her, and she shoved him off of her, trying to focus. The bullet had gone straight up through his chin into his head.

He was dead.

And even though she’d prayed for that for years, she currently didn’t care less. 

She crawled over to Lorcan, hands coming to press on his shoulder. Blood soaked her hands immediately, and she felt tears slip down her cheeks.

She had to do something, had to call for help. Her phone was upstairs, but he usually had one, right? Frantically, she searched his pockets, crying in relief when she pulled it out and called 911.

The operator picked up and somehow understood her as she told her what had happened. 

Elide looked down at Lorcan, his usually tan skin pale with blood loss. “Don’t you dare die. It’s over now. He’s dead. It’s over. Please, just stay with me.”

“People are on the way. Help is coming.” She pulled his head in her lap. “Don’t leave me.”

She pressed her hands harder to his chest, refusing to let him go. 

He was the first person in her entire life who’d made her feel like a survivor, not a victim. 

He’d taken care of her, fought for her. 

She’d be damned if she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

So she sat there, hands desperately trying to keep him from bleeding out. After a few minutes, sirens sounded in the distant, getting closer by the second. She willed them to come faster, knowing he didn’t have long.

Elide leaned down and softly pressed her lips to his. Maybe she could goad him into staying alive. “You’re not dying, you stubborn bastard. Not before you admit you like therapy.”

His eyes were closed, face expressionless, but she could’ve sworn his lips twitched in amusement.

~one week later~

Elide was sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair, drifting off to sleep, when she heard someone mutter, “Therapy sucks.”

It was barely a whisper, and the voice was raspy and tired, but she shot awake, almost falling out of the chair. She completely ignored what he’d said because he was awake.

Lorcan’s eyes were on hers, and he seemed to be taking in every detail about her, too.

“You’re awake,” she said happily. Finally. He’d been asleep for six days--which the doctors said was from severe blood loss--and she didn’t think her ass could handle one more day in this awful chair.

“I’m in a hospital,” he growled, eyes narrowing on his surroundings. 

She nodded. “I see your powers of observation are still in tact.”

“You took me to a goddamn hospital?”

He sounded... annoyed. A scowl was on his lips, and even though it was directed at her, the familiar sight warmed her heart. If he was scowling, that meant he felt normal. 

“You were dying, Lorcan,” she rationalized calmly.

“I hate hospitals.”

She slipped her hand in his and he squeezed it. “Tough shit. I wasn’t letting you die because of me.”

His features hardened as he remembered why he was here in the first place. “What happened?”

“You were shot. Twice. The doctors said the second bullet nicked your heart and that you’re lucky to be alive.” She took a deep breath. “Vernon’s dead. I told the police everything, and they said it was self defense. Although I’m pretty sure the CIA wants to hire you, considering the number of bodies found around the cabin.”

His lips twitched.

Elide looked down at their joined hands, running a thumb over the small cuts on his skin. “Thank you, Lorcan. I know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t... if you weren’t there.”

His hand squeezed hers again.

“But then again, since you got a job offer out of it, maybe you should be thanking me,” she joked.

Lorcan smiled at that. Gods, she loved that smile. It made her feel stupidly happy, knowing she was one of the only people to see it. He studied her face for a moment, then murmured, “Come here.”  

She sat on the edge of the bed and braced herself as she leaned over to kiss him softly. His arms wrapped around her, and he seemed to not care about having two gunshot wounds as he pulled her into him.

Elide heard the heart monitor start beeping and broke the kiss before the nurses could come in and yell at them. She grinned, running a finger over his strong jaw. “Therapy does not suck.”

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you used that to blackmail me into staying alive. But yes, it does.”

“I have a feeling you’ll change your mind soon,” she told him confidently, sliding her thumb over his bottom lip. “Because after such a traumatic event like getting shot and almost dying, you’re going to need a lot of it.”

He caught her meaning and leaned up to kiss her again. “Better get started now, then.”

______________________________________________________________

You already knew the ending was about to be cheesy as hell lol. Thank you for reading! I’m going to work on some stuff in my box next, so feel free to send requests. And make sure to wish @maastrash a happy birthday :)

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[oldfashionedmoth]

Fred and George do QVC

Find me on AO3

It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”  

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah!  This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.  

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”  

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”  

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”  

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...  

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”

[neohours]

You couldn't help but smile widely as you walked down the streets of New York. You missed everything in here, it still was like in your childhood. Since you and your parents moved to Korea, you didn't come back here. Well, until now. So going back, at least for a few days, made you more than happy. You felt as if you were finally home.

As you looked back, wanting to see if the guys were still following you, you accidentally jostled someone. "I'm sorr-" You froze automatically when you recognized the person in front of you, forgetting even the boys. "Y/N?" The boy stared at you confused as his voice was uncertain. You knew he was one of your childhood friends, whom you had lost sight of when you went back to Korea. And you could clearly determine that he had recognized you as much as you did. "Hansol?" He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. He couldn't count the number of years since he last saw you before you moved. And he had to admit that you had rather very changed physically.

"Wow, it's been a long time, isn't it?" You nodded to confirm his words. You also had to admit he wasn't that bad. Even so, you couldn't say he was as good looking as Jaehyun. "Yes, really, you've really changed since then." He couldn't help but smile at your discreet compliment. "You too, you've become really beautiful." You felt the red rising to your cheeks, even your ears. This compliment had touched you and it was visible. As you smiled at him shyly and whispered a barely audible 'thank you', you heard him laughing softly.

"You're blushing, that's so cute." The redness of your face intensifying as you see him detailing you, still smiling. You quickly looked away and automatically, you met your boyfriend's gaze. The guys stopped a few feet away from you two and talked to each other, probably waiting for you to finish your conversation. Only your boyfriend had his eyes fixed on you and you could determine according to his facial expression that he was far from appreciating your exchange. Jaehyun was the type to be jealous and seeing you blush at the words of another boy, childhood friend or not, made him irritated.

"Well, I think I'm going to go then. If you don't mind it, do you want to exchange our numbers?" You turned your attention back to Vernon, who was looking at you, waiting for your answer. You hesitated a few seconds and knowing that you only stayed in town for less than a week, you accepted. It was, after all, a good friend of yours, and you knew that nothing was going to happen between you. As you gave him your phone number, you could still feel Jaehyun's heavy gaze on you two.

When you went back next to the boys, you nodded to them to continue allow them to following you, which they did. "Who was this guy?" Jungwoo had asked you with curiosity. You knew that everyone was looking at you, but you continued to walk in front of them. "Just a childhood friend."

"I didn't know that childhood friends were flirting with each other?" You heard them laughing and glanced at them, only Jaehyun didn't seem to find the whole thing funny. But you just shrugged. From then on, you arrived at Central Park and all of them dispersed. You just sit on your bench on your phone, letting them do whatever they want. Although they were, almost all, in their twenties, they still behaved like children and it made you laugh. Noticing that you had almost no battery, you went back on the bus to charge your cell, without forgetting to warn them.

Arrived there, you greeted the driver and headed to the back of the bus to grab one of the portable chargers. "What was that?" You almost dropped what you had in your hands when your boyfriend's cold voice rang in the car. "What are you talking about?" He stared at you for a long time, annoyed. "Don't act all innocent, you know what I'm talking about." You knew where he wanted to go on, but knowing that he was going to make you a fit of jealousy, you wanted to change the subject. "We're not going to fight in front of the driver, plus the guys are waiting for us." You wanted to pass, but he grabbed your wrist and put pressure on it, making you stop in your tracks. "I told him he could go take a break and they can wait for us. For now, stop changing the subject."

You then pushed back his hand that held your wrist and crossed your arms, letting him do some morality by rolling his eyes. You knew that between you and Vernon, even if he was flirting with you, there would be nothing between you two, so you really wondered why Jaehyun doesn't catch it. You repeated him the same thing to reassure him, but even with it, every time he saw you with another boy, he made you a fit of jealousy. You had to even confess that it was cute on one hand, although that in the other hand, you felt like he didn't trust you. "It's good you finished your fit of jealousy, but seriously, I don't understand why you make a fuss."

You cut him short in his sentence. You saw him frown as he looked down on you. It annoyed him as much as you to argue this way, but it was stronger than him. When he was jealous, he had to express it to you. "It's me who doesn't understand. You should know that I'm jealous because I love you!" He approached you even more, forcing you to step backward until you felt your back touching the counter of the small kitchen. "He asked for my girlfriend's phone number and even flirted with her. It's normal that I didn't like it!" As soon as he finished, he pulled you by the hips to stick you to him. You wanted to reply, but automatically shut your mouth, not wanting to deepen the fight. Without thinking too much, you kissed him immediately. In addition to not wanting to continue to argue, you had heard that the make up sex was the best, so why not try it. It took only a few seconds for him to respond to your kiss, with the same passion as you did. Unconsciously, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you up to make you sit on the counter behind you.

Your desire for him increased and you could only want him as much as he wanted you at this very moment. Your hands were discovering each other and you were the first to engage an intimate contact, pressing your palm over his bulge, which you could feel already hard. "I never thought you would be so dirty, I love it." His lips deviated to your neck, to lick and bite your soft skin as you answered him by slight whisper of ease. His fingers ghosted under your short, inviting you to take it off. "Oh, babygirl, I'm going to fill you up and you'll carry my children so boys will know that you're already taken." You knew that you had no choice. He'll maybe give up on his want at the last moment, but for this right moment he wanted only one thing; to make you completely his.

[givemefic]

Chapter One: Sold

Title: Accepting Fate, Denying Destiny

Author: GiveMeFic

Fandoms: All for the Game/Harry Potter

Characters: All for the Game Crew, Harry Potter

Relationships: Canon AftG, Harry Potter/???

Rating: Explict, MA

Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Torture, Sexual Themes/Acts, Abuse of all kinds so be mindful (More to come I’m sure.)

Summary: Sold off at the tender age of five by his abusive uncle, and then again at ten, Harry Potter learned that life would always find a way to fuck you over.

~

“Because,” Kevin swallowed hard, “he starts this year.”

“Who?” Matt slung his arm over Dan’s shoulders. “Stop being so cryptic.”

He tapped his cheek, the number two stark against his skin. “Why do you think Jean is number four?”

Dan and Wymack both straightened. “Wait, so the third in your little cult court is going to play this year?”

“How can you be so sure?” Wymack asked.

“He’s the right age. And I heard that he came back to the Nest last year after I—“ He choked on his words. “After I left.”

CHAPTER ONE: SOLD

The boy shivered in the car, the warmth from the drive with his Uncle Vernon this morning had long since been replaced by the cold from the snow and freezing rain. He looked at the building his uncle had gone into. He hadn’t come back, and the boy winced when he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin.

“Don’t you dare get out or be seen, boy!” He’d almost recoiled from the hand that reached back, but he knew that the second hit was always harder if he did. Cheek blooming red and tender, the boy nodded and had been there, curled up in the floorboard ever since.

Only now he couldn’t stand it anymore. So he popped up, saw the lot empty of people, and he snatched his cousin’s spare coat from the back of the car. Dudley was three times his size, so the puffy coat was like a blanket. He stayed curled up and with practiced ease, the boy ignored his cramped stomach and fell into a light sleep.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he came awake, trying to hold still. The door opened and the boy cringed under the coat.

“What the—“ The coat was ripped away. He looked passed his uncle and the sky had darkened and the snow wasn’t falling anymore. “Get out here, boy!” A meaty hand took him by the arm and the boy found himself falling out of the car and onto the now dirty snow covered ground. “Well, here he is.”

Lifted and barely able to stand on his own feet, the boy held back a cry as his shoulder was wrenched higher. One of his too big shoes fell off.

“He doesn’t look like much, tiny thing.”

He opened his eyes and saw a few people standing before his Uncle Vernon. Two men were outside a very nice looking town car. It was left running and the back door was open.

“Don’t let his size fool you, he works hard and listens well enough. Don’t you?” He shook the boy again and he couldn’t stop a whimper at the pain, nor his now bare foot was slipping in the snow. “You said,” Vernon cleared his throat and continued on in the same kind of polite voice he’d heard his uncle use when talking to his boss on the phone at home. “You said this would be enough to clear my debts.”

“Yes,” drawled the man in a heavy wool peacoat. “That’s if we find him suitable. Let him go.”

He fell to his feet and couldn’t stop himself from sliding to his knees. The overly large shorts, almost long enough to be pants on the boy, soaked through. He looked up at the strangers.

“Those eyes,” the other murmured. He took a cigarette out and lit it. “How old are you?”

He looked to Vernon and trembled.

His uncle answered, “He’s five.”

“Where did you find him? You claimed his parents are dead?”

“Yes,” Vernon spat. “My worthless sister-in-law and her husband got themselves killed when he was one. He was dropped on us and we’ve put up with him since.”

The man in the coat squatted down and leaned in to look closely at his face. “Any records?”

“None.”

“Medical?”

Vernon scoffed. “I wouldn’t waste money on him at a doctor.”

The coat man’s mouth thinned and the boy tensed, waiting for a rage filled hit or shove. Only he stood up and with practiced ease, lifted the boy from the ground and settled him on his hip. “Want to see, sister?”

From the open car door, a woman’s hand waved them over. It was dark in the car and the boy couldn’t see anything beyond the lit end of a cigarette. “He’s small, but seems willing to listen. Don’t you, young man?”

At first the boy didn’t know what to say, but the man holding him gave him a little bounce and raised an eyebrow. So he nodded and said, “Yes, Ma’am. My ears work good. Even though Uncle says they don’t.”

The other man burst into chuckles and the one holding him smiled. “Bit of an attitude too.”

Vernon was sputtering and took a step toward them with a shaking finger and a red face. “Listen to me to you loathsome brat—“

“That’s enough.” They cut Vernon off and stepped between him and the boy. “What’s his name?”

The boy frowned and said, “Freaks don’t get names.”

It was silent for a moment, then the woman spoke from the darkness. “Don’t they?”

“No, Ma’am.” He shook his head.

Vernon cleared his throat and with a croak he said, “It’s Harry. Harry Potter.”

The man holding him slid into the car while the other finished talking to Vernon and the b— Harry’s eyes widened when he saw the man backhand his uncle. He cringed into the lap of the woman he’d been passed to. He didn’t want to see what Vernon was going to do to the stranger. Only a moment later the door shut and when he peaked out, Harry saw both men sitting across from him and the smoking lady.

“Well, Harry,” she said, “welcome to the family.” He could now see in the dim lights of the street as they pulled away, that she was a very pretty lady. Her blonde hair was he same shade as Aunt Petunia’s, but longer and wavy. “I’m Mary Hatford. What do you think about coming to live with me now?”

“Mary?” The smoking man leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”

Her hand came up and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the hit. Only her fingers crept into his hair and gently detangled the mess. “I’m taking him with me back to Boston, Stuart.”

“What for?” Stuart tossed the butt of his now finished cigarette out the cracked window. “He’s small, we could use him as a runner. I bet you’re petty quick, eh, Harry?”

Harry nodded, dislodging Mary’s hand. “I run a lot faster than Dudley and his friends. And! I fit under the rose bushes! I don’t care about getting scratched, but Dudley always cries if the thorns bite him.” He reached down and rubbed at his bare foot. It had begun to tingle from the heat of the car.

Mary leaned forward and saw what he was doing. She pulled a coat from behind her and draped it over him, tucking his legs and feet into the warmth. “He’s coming with me. Abram could use a playmate.”

Harry frowned. “Who’s that?”

“My son,” Mary said. “He’s all alone in our big house.”

“He doesn’t have no friends too?”

“Doesn’t have any friends,” Stuart corrected. “And Mary, I don’t…” He lit another cigarette and sighed out a plum of smoke. Harry wiped at his eyes when they stung as the smoke filled the car. “Aren’t you worried about—“

“It’ll be fine,” Mary insisted. “Don’t you want to come live in a big house, Harry? My son is your age too.”

Harry blinked and asked, “Is your cupboard big enough for me?”

“Cupboard?”

He nodded. “For me to sleep. I’m not scare of spiders.”

Mary closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked down at him and said, “I think we can do better than a cupboard. How about your own room?”

“Mary,” the other man finally spoke up, “what will your dear husband say about this? He barely tolerates his own son.” He waved at Harry. “What do you expect will happen with him?”

Mary bit her lip and Harry pulled her coat up higher to his shoulders. “I’m doing what I can to protect him, William.” She stroked Harry’s hair again. “If that means sacrifices, then so be it.”

“Um,” Harry huddled down and asked, “where do you live? Is it far, far from Uncle Vernon?”

“So very far away,” Mary promised. “I’m leaving tonight to head back. I need to make sure Abram is alright.”

“Still can’t believe that arsehole made you leave him behind,” Stuart grumbled.

“Collateral.”

Mary glared at William for his comment. “I needed to come back, to get away and help settle things here with father… I’ve got some people watching him for me. It’s only been three days.”

“A lot can happen in three days.” William sighed. “But, maybe your new whipping boy will help ease your heart.”

“I will protect Abram above anything else,” Mary said, and Harry trembled at the anger in her voice. “And Harry here, he’s going to help me. Right, lovely?”

He hesitated, but said, “I’m too small to help pro-prot...”

Mary leaned over and tapped his nose. “You’re just the right size. But you’ll have to do some things that might be scary. Or even hurt. I promise to make sure you have lots of things to eat, and a soft place to sleep at night. But you have to make sure Abram is safe. Can you do that? It’s a big job.”

Harry looked at Stuart and William, but both of them were looking out the windows. So he nodded. He’d been hurt a lot before, but at least this time there would be a reason. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never say why they hurt him, they just screamed and threw things, or beat him.

He could make sure Abram was ok. Mary seemed nice, and he wanted to go far away from his family. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re going to be perfect, Harry. They’ll love you.”

[hokkaidossoul12]

WARNING: this contains bad language.

This is basically Dorothy’s first encounter with Fowler. So what happened was that after a very, very shy Dorothy met Faceless, Showdown, Lorelei, Penny, Banker and Doc Carver was when she started to gain a bit more confidence around the Valley, but that confidence of hers was short-lived as Fowler had seen her in town. And because Dorothy hadn’t gained many friends she was left wondering around the Valley on her own to get used to the town by herself. It was only then that Dorothy saw Fowler following her which made her feel nervous so she tries to find somewhere she could hide only for Dorothy to have walked into a dead end and Fowler corner her. She shook a little bit and tried to avoid eye contact with the wolf hunter only for her to hear the click of a gun before her gaze was finally brought to Fowler who held a shotgun in his hand. “since when did they let wolves into the Valley? I thought that you’d be off with your pack...” the wolf hunter said through his teeth. But, Dorothy felt a bit offended, she wasn’t exactly a wolf but...she wouldn’t call herself a dog either. ”w-well...I’m not e-exactly a w-w-wolf..., I-I’m more o-of a-” but before she could finish her sentence the older male interrupted, “I don’t care! you look one of them so you are one of them...” Dorothy decided then and there to keep her words to herself, not wanting to spark any sort of argument with the elder puppet. She saw him, looking her up and down before scoffing, “your pretty small for a female, and a lot less...feral” Dorothy’s ears began to droop and her tail curl between her legs. Dorothy had no idea what the wolf hunter was planning to do to her as her gem turned to light purple color. The wolf hunter stared down at the small dog-wolf and could see the fear in her eyes, she didn’t seem like the type of “wolf” to attack someone without reason like anything other wolf he had came across. As the wolf hunter continue to stare down at her, Dorothy felt a feeling if discomfort as that stare reminded her of something from her past life...and she didn’t like it, she felt her heart race from the fear lurking within her. She began scooting to the side little by little, trying to make sure that the older male didn’t catch on to what she was doing. As Dorothy slowly maneuvered her way around the wolf hunter, her eyes darted out the side. She scanned the area, trying to find the quickest way to get out of the area. “isn’t that such a shame, your out here on your own, and it looks like your don’t have any defenses either” Dorothy’s breath hitched as she felt the wolf hunter move dangerously close to her. Then, without a warning, the wolf hunter went to grab her... only for the dog-wolf to dash out the side and make a run for it. “HEY!” the wolf hunter shouted as he gave chased. *”I-I need to get out of here! I don’t want him catching me!”* Dorothy thought before suddenly hearing the wolf hunter’s shotgun go off, the bullet merely missing her. A few more bullets were fired at her as the older male chased her down, “GET BACK HERE!” the wolf hunter yelled, his voice echoed from behind Dorothy as she had began a outrun the older male. Dorothy’s fear slowly faded as she had finally spotted a exit in the form of a hole in a wall, *”yes! yes! YES!”* the dog-wolf began to pick up more speed. But, also she was even close enough to reach the door, a bullet had been fired right in front of her feet from above on her left side, spooking her and causing to fall flat onto her face. The wolf hunter stopped for a minute, looking to where the bullet was fired and spots a male not much younger than him, he gives him a wicked smile. “thanks, Vernon” the wolf hunter shouted up at the other male while the slightly younger male gives him the thumbs up. Then, as Dorothy began to pick herself up another bullet from above was fired at her again, causing to drop back down, the wolf hunter laughed at her reaction. Quickly, the wolf hunter make his way over to the small dog-wolf who was attempting to get back up before grabbing a hold of her arm tightly. Dorothy yelped as she felt the wolf hunter grab a hold of her before she was pulled towards him, the muzzle of the gun he held pressing against Dorothy’s throat. “you...you really think I didn’t have backup? I know all you disgusting wolves...trying to outrun me because you think I’m old and weary!” the grip on Dorothy’s arm tighten to the point where she could feel a shooting pain going up and down her arm and shoulder. Dorothy felt her wood crack as her arm was being crushed under the pressure of the older male’s hand, then one of the wolf hunter’s torn boot came down onto her tail and pressed the heel of his boot down. The dog-wolf cried out as pain rushed from her tail all the way to her back and spine, the wolf hunter laughed. “aww...it hurts, does it?” the older male chuckled, suddenly his foot came back up only to come back down onto Dorothy’s tail twice as hard, Dorothy cried out once more as pain rushed from her tail to her back and spine, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. The wolf hunter noticed this, narrowing his eyes and give her a wicked smile as he grounded his foot against her tail, tears dripped down the dog-wolf’s face as she was in too much pain to struggle and too afraid to protest. Dorothy then held and felt the gun click, “well, now that your arm and tail are probably busted ...guess it’s time to put you out of your misery.” The older puppet had his finger on the trigger, the poor dog-wolf knew she was done as she accepted her fate then and there. She didn’t try to fight, she didn’t try to yell anyone. The wolf hunter’s expression dropped, he was expecting a big reaction out of her only for the dog-wolf to just...shut her eyes and lifted her neck. “c’mon...your letting me blow a hole through your neck? oh well...” the older male shrugged. Then, the wolf hunter chuckled one last time before pulling the trigger and...nothing happened. “wha...what the?” he tried to pull the trigger once more, still nothing. Again, again and again he tried to pull the trigger, but no matter how many times he did the wolf hunter couldn’t get the gun to fire. But...then he realized something, he remembered that the gun could only hold a certain amount of shells. Dorothy heard the older male growl, “OH F#CKING HELL! I’M OUT OF AMMO!” the wolf hunter knew that the only way he could reload his gun was to reach for his bullet holders. But, the only way he could possibly reach for them was to let Dorothy’s arm go which was a big risk of letting her escape...but he also realized that he had his foot on her tail so she couldn’t go anywhere anyway. That was...at least he thought. Letting go of the dog-wolf’s arm he went to reach for a few of his shotgun shells, it was only when Dorothy saw that he had his focus on grabbing his ammo that she knew he was distracted. Then, with one single blow, Dorothy suddenly knocked the gun from his hand and headbutted the wolf hunter right in the face, sending him backward. It was then that the small female had gotten her tail loose that she managed to properly pick herself back up that time despite the injury on her arm. Though he did try to kill her...she felt bad for possibly injuring the wolf hunter as she turned back to him, “I-I’m sorry if I h-hurt you...I-” she was cut off by the older male who growled, picking himself back up as he clenched his fist, he was over trying to shoot her now. The small female backed away, sensing that what she did didn’t hurt him...but it did anger him a lot. Dorothy then turned and reached for the door only for another bullet to be fired at her from above by the same male from before, causing her to jump back from the door. Then suddenly she was grabbed once again by the wolf hunter only to be thrown to the wall out of reach from the door, Dorothy shook as her back was already in enough agony as it was. It was then when Dorothy had looked back up at the older male that he was practically towering over the small female as fear began show in her eyes again. “you should have NEVER came here, wolf!” Dorothy had shown him a smile of fear as she shook, “well...you see...before...I was- uh...trying to take my leave” the dog-wolf letting out a nervous laugh, but it seemed that the wolf hunter didn’t care. All the older male wanted to do now was to put the small “wolf” through hell, “now...I’m gonna make sure that you’re dead once I’ve finished with you!” suddenly the wolf hunter punched Dorothy in the cheek, knocking her to the ground against the wall.  The small dog-wolf then felt the wolf hunter’s foot slammed into her stomach as he put all his weight down onto her, causing her to cough up blood while blood began to run down her nose. Dorothy gasped as the same arm that the wolf hunter had crushed before before harshly pulling it upward. She yelled in pain as the same part of her arm where the older male had gripped, this time the pain she had felt last time was much more agonizing the second time. Tears formed in Dorothy’s eye once more as the pain began to overwhelm her body. As Dorothy’s arm was being pulled more and more, the more Dorothy felt her arm being pulled out of her socket before finally being pulled out of place with a loud crack. The small female let out a high-pitch scream as she felt her entire arm was in complete agony before going limp and numb. Dorothy’s face contorted into something that could only be known as true terror as shock began to flow through her body. with shock throughout her body, the older male presses his foot into her stomach so hard that it cause the small dog-wolf to slowly give into the agony around her body as she slowly began to lose touch with the world around her. This gave the wolf hunter the opportunity to lean down and grab Dorothy by her neck as he tried to straggle the life out of the small dog-wolf in the state that she was in. “don’t worry...I’ll make sure to mount your head on a wall so I’ll have it to remember your death by” the older male snarled, seeing the small female’s eyes roll back into her head. He choked the small dog-wolf to where she had become unconscious as her fluffy cheek laid against the the older male’s large hand. Smiling down at Dorothy, the wolf hunter let go off the small dog’s neck to try finding a blade if he had one on him. But, once the wolf hunter did so he suddenly heard three very familiar sounding bells. It was after a few seconds that the area around him went to a grey color before finally seeing the Faceless Bandit appear right in front of him before attempting to swipe at him with his scythe, causing the older male puppet to stumble back. Once the Faceless man had done so, he spotted a very unconscious Dorothy to which he immediately went over to her. Then, before the wolf hunter could even realize what had happened both Faceless and Dorothy had disappear out of the area... “WHAT?! GRRRRR!” the wolf hunter felt is blood boil, that Faceless Bandit took the small dog-wolf within the moment he would use her head to mount on his wall. But...what the older hadn’t realized was that this wouldn’t be the first time that he would see the small female dog-wolf cross paths with him...

[starstruckstrawberrypainter]

The protective steak

CHAPTER 1

Pairings: platonic Seventeen/vernon, seventeen friendship, seventeen family/Vernon/Sofia

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, mild angst, AU

Warning: mild violence

Note: Seventeen is a mafia that does illegal things to help good people from bad people.

~~~

[Third person Pov]

~~~

It was a normal day. As normal as it could be for them being in the mafia. They had a normal mission of infiltrating a group of drug smugglers who were causing too much trouble on the streets of Seoul.

The plan was simple; Vernon, The8, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Scoups were to be the ones entering the premises in groups of three. Scoups, Jun and Hoshi had to mingle with the group of smugglers that wasn't that big in number, the smugglers had a meeting that Seventeen was aware of which is why they decided to act out the mission that day and time.

It wasnt difficult for three to blend in with their dirt covered face and filthy look that they seemed to pull of quite well. They just had to listen in on the meeting and figure out if there was particularly someone who brought their goods or if they did something else as well. The oy problem was that, they couldn't wear the stereo earbuds to communicate with other members but that was fine, it wasn't a big deal

While the other three had snuck off deeper into the area in search of the place where they stocked the drugs.

Quite simple if you ask them. They were also quite familiar with such simple missions. It wasnt anything special but just a normal job.

Woozi was guiding the members through their in ears while Jeonghan and Mingyu were waiting outside as their get away drivers.

"Wonwoo position?"

"We're outside the office which doesn't have that hard security."

"Yeah hyung is trying to muddle through it." Vernon supplied the answer which seemed to satisfy the rest of them.

"By the usual meeting time, you people have about 36 more minutes to get outside."

"That will be fine. Oh we're in." Wonwoo said in a deep voice that might not have any emotions in it but they could clearly hear the underlying victory in his tone.

The three walked in the office and slowly closed the door behind them.

It wasn't anything sophisticated rather consisted of a small table with 2 chairs on opposite sides facing each other. The room consisted of minimum furniture with a cabinet and a book shelf.

"Hopefully we will find the door behind the shelf." Hao said as the three pushed the shelf aside to locate a door.

"This feels very simple for a group doing a large damage." Vernon hummed and his reason seemed quite logical. It just felt like someone wasn't right but they didnt have time to dwell on their feelings as Wonwoo once again hacked through the password panel beside the door.

"Careful guys." Woozi warned in a small voice.

They just hummed in their ear piece to state their agreement.

"We're in." Hao stated in the matter of fact which was soon sounded by gasps from them.

"Guys?! What's wrong?" DK asked, his nervousness spilling in his voice

"Holy fucking shit hyung what in the world is this?!" A harsh whisper was sounded by Vernon. Their reactions only increased their curiosity.

"There aren't just drugs in here Woozi, there are people, there are dead people here." Wonwoo said which made the others a bit serious.

"Are we still supposed to plant the bombs here?" Hao asked, feeling complicated about the situation.

"They are dead anyways." Woozi spoke, the sound very cold but they knew better, they knew that the said person cared but he was cold in his decisions.

"But hyung.." Vernon whispered.

"Let's get on with it guys." Wonwoo stated in a sense of finality which made the two younger shut up and place the bombs around.

"20 minutes now."

They worked faster and set about 10 small bombs around the place and in the drug packets. That should do.

"GUYS?!" A frantic voice called out in a harsh whisper.

"The meeting is over, they are dispersing, you three need to get out of there." Scoups whisper shouted which raised panic among others.

"Yeah we are almost done." Wonwoo's calm voice traveled which did nothing to help their nerves whatsoever.

The three fastened themselves and were ready to leave through the door when someone held Vernon's hand. He was shocked at the contact and looked at the person whose hand it belonged to.

"Please." She whispered. She looked dead but wasn't, she was barely alive.

"Help" She whispered out with great difficulty.

Vernon was still. He didnt know what was happening. He was supposed to get out of there.

"Vernon what the hell are you doing, come fast!" A shout reached his ears which seemed to shake him out of his thoughts.

The other two looked back to notice the girl who held Vernon's hand. They were shocked to see someone alive.

Vernon turned around to face the girl completely, he knew he had to leave, the smugglers could come anytime soon but he was one of the good guys, he didnt leave people to die, he saved them.

Vernon bent down and took the girls hands in his own. She looked young, maybe a teenager at the most. She was seated on a wooden chair with her legs and hands tied to the arm rest, she had a loose scarf hanging around her neck which might have been used for covering her mouth.

"Are the others.." the incomplete question hung in the air but she understood, Are the others alive? He could check but there seed to be more than 10 people in there and they had no time.

"No no, only me.." She struggled to get the words out as tears flowed down her face.

Vernon knew that he had to get out, he swiftly cut the rope around her limbs with his dagger. He put one arm under her legs while the other supported her back.

" I'll get you dont worry." He whispered comforting words and started towards the door.

" We have to hurry up!" Wonwoo all but dragged Vernon out as Hao kept pushing him from back.

They heard noises in the corridor and quickly entered one of rooms to avoid any confrontation.

There were 15 minutes for the bomb to blow up.

"Where the hell are you people?!? You were supposed to be out by now!" He heard the angry voice of Jeonghan which voiced out his concern.

"We will be there hyung, we are fine, got held up but we are fine." Wonwoo stated calmly.

The voices seemed to decrease so they figured that people were away by now. They just had to reach another door which had an air vent which had a window through which they will leave.

"Let's go." Hao quickly ran to the door followed by the other two. The girl didnt weigh a lot which made it easier for Vernon to carry her.

The three entered the room and locked the door. They walked to the window which was considerably high.

"You go up first and then I'll pass her to you, and then you jump out, okay?" Wonwoo quickly explained while Vernon just nodded and passed the girl over to Wonwoo.

"Who is her?" Came a confused voice of Dino.

"What the fuck is taking you people so much time?!" Scoups sounded really angry.

"Are you three out?"

"Yeah we are in the car." Jun said to which the three relaxed a bit.

Vernon sat on the window ledge while Wonwoo passed to girl to him and he jumped down followed by the other two.

"10 minutes for blow up!" Woozi warned and they heard the complaints of many members for them to hurry up.

Just a short way and they will be in the car but then it happened.

The feeling of something came true when Vernon felt a gun pressed to the nape of his neck and were surrounded by 7 other men who held different sorts of weapons in their hands.

"Look who it is" He felt chills creep up as he slowly turned around to face a huge burly guy who held a sinister smile on his face. He looked hideous with his oily hair matted and his yellow teeth that gave an unpleasant look and he smelt worse then he looked.

"Guys?!"

"Vernoni!"

"What is happening Wonwoo yah!?"

"Hao?!"

"Shit?!"

He heard many voices in his year but the one that stood out was a whimper of fear from the girl in his arms.

He bought her closer to him. He felt the need to protect her.

"What do you want?" Wonwoo questioned with a voice that gave chills and Vernon saw hesitancy in his eyes.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that." The sickly sweet smile was even more hideous.

They had to fight, they had less time before the building blew up, atleast the part where they stood coz the room was nearby.

"And you also took my little prisoner." He now brought the gun to girl and softly stroked her cheek with it. Vernon grew with rage.

He quickly ducked and swiftly tripped the guy with his foot and kicked the gun out of his hands. This seemed to start the fight as Wonwoo and Hao quickly got fighting with the others who ran to them. The guy got up and removed two knives as he came at him and then there was another guy who came at him from behind. It was hard to fight off two people while holding someone in his arms but he made sure to not get her more hurt. Soon a knife was thrown at him or rather at the girl but he caught the knife in his arms which cause a huge gash on his palm as he threw the knife down. It hurt. He struggled to keep his whispers in.

The burly guy knocked into him which mad him fall down and he placed the girl on the ground and got up. He has to end this fast. He quickly took out his dagger and aimed it at the other guy and it was a clean pierce right through his heart and dead. The other guy looked at him in fear while handol ran towards him but the shot echoed through the space which made Vernon halt slowly as he looked down at his abdomen while he slowly bought his plam up to press to the wound. This wont stop him.

He took a stick that was lying near him and in a blink of the eye the stick flew through the air and slammed onto the guy which knocked the gun of his hand.

Vernon picked the gun and aimed at the guy before him. He never shot anyone he wasn't asked to or if it wasn't self defense. This case involved neither but he hurt the girl in his arms. That protective steak in him rised for some reason. That steak grew at hearing the whimper sof the girl upon seeing the guy. And that alone was the reason why Vernon wanted to hurt him, he wanted to shoot him and carve out that face of his. He wanted to hit him continuously and badh his face on stone.

He settled for kicking the guy in the head and shooting at a place where he knew even if he survive would hurt him like hell.

He shot the guy on his right foot toes which erupted from him a scream so loud and next he shot him on the palm of his right hand then left then he aimed the gun at his knee cap and shot out. It was cold, too cold and mean of him. He never behaved this way which is why Wonwoo and Hao stood facing him with gaping mouths but they didnt comment on it thankfully.

He turned around to look at the girl sitting down who looked at him with wide eyes full of fear as tears flowed down her face. Oh shit.

Vernon slowly walked towards her so she doesn't get scared and bent down while his palm was pressed tightly on his wound. He looked at girl and answered sincerely,"I'm sorry but he wasn't a good guy, I promise we wont hurt you." At those words the tears seemed to slow down but small sobs still came from her.

Wonwoo came forward to carry the girl as he noticed that vernon has a wound. Wonwoo carried the girl while Hao supported Vernon and the hurriedly walked further for the next 5 minutes with greatvstruggke and they sneaked out of the premises through an abandoned door and walked out, no one suspected them since many people were seen carrying others. How many wer killed here? a question floated in their minds.

They rushed towards the car which was parked on the sidewalk a little further away to really concerned looking members and quickly climbed in the car. They noticed the girl in Wonwoo's arms but made no comment on it. They can talk about that later.

As soon as the car started moving the side of the building erupted in a huge bang as debris showered down but they were at a safe distance from the building. A few seconds later they heard another bang and then another.

It was over. They finished it. They were fine and on the way home. Vernon looked down at the girl lying on the seat with her head placed on his lap,who looked asleep but he knew she fainted and right now he didnt have any equipment or food or water to give. They have to wait till they get back home. And he felt energy draining him as blood loss continued but he didnt tell anyone. He was very tired to do anything and they didn't question him because they thought he was just tired.

~~~

So that is the end of chapter 1!

It ended on a good note and the next chapter will continue with this story and hopefully will also be the final chapter of this story.

Byee~♡♡

[duskowithapen]

Day Ten: Bunnies

Fandom: Harry Potter, Addam’s Family, and Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Pairing: Familial Harry Potter and baby Killer Rabbits of Caerbannog

Warning: Blood, Gore, and Death

Read on Ao3

Read on Fanfiction

Say Hello To My Little Friends

Harry licked the blood off his lip and smiled sadly with red stained teeth. “Sorry babies, no meat for dinner tonight.”

The six tiny baby bunnies stared at him with pink eyes. One hopped closer and started to lick at the blood dripping down his arm. When he didn’t push it away, the others followed. Harry ran a finger down each of their little backs. They were all so soft, with sleek black fur that shone different colours when the light touched it – a little bit like oil on water. He had found them huddled under Aunt Petunia’s rose bushes a few days ago. They must have run away from their owner, but Harry didn’t think anyone was looking for them. There hadn’t been any missing bunny posters or anything.

When one of the bunnies – the Ringleader, Harry thought of him as, with more of a green tint to his fur than the others – started climbing up his shirt in search of more blood, Harry pulled him away. “No, you’ve had enough.” They had all had enough – Harry was starting to feel a little lightheaded.

The bunnies’ nest was made out of a stolen towel and a pair of too-big jeans. It was tucked into the smallest corner of the cupboard, where the stairs met the floor. For extra protection, Harry had put all the chemical bodies in front of it like a wall. Now that the bunnies were relatively fed, he started to sit them one by one in the nest.

“Goodnight Ringleader,” he said to the green tinted kit.

“Goodnight Stormy,” to the fluffiest kit with a silvery tint to its’ fur.

“Goodnight lil’ Fighter,” to the kit missing part of one ear – Harry was pretty sure it had gotten into a fight before he’d found them.

“Goodnight Demon,” to the red tinted kit with deeper pink eyes than the others.

“Goodnight Shadow,” to the biggest kit. It was always following the others. More than once, Harry had to stop it from following him out of the cupboard.

“Goodnight Witchy,” to the darkest kit. It had an almost purple sheen to its fur, but it was also the quietest and most sneaky. Harry would be doing his chores, and suddenly find Witchy in his pocket, or climbing out of his shoes, or even in his hair. (If Harry was being completely honest, out of all the kits, Witchy was his favourite)

He didn’t want to get too attached to the kits – they couldn’t live in his cupboard forever – but he couldn’t help it. They were the closest thing he’d ever had to pets, or friends, in the seven years of his life.

Once they had all settled down in their nest, Harry started to wrap his wounds. Uncle Vernon had lost a drill deal of some kind today and blamed it on Harry and his freakishness. He hadn’t pulled out his belt, but he did accidently break a plate and then shoved Harry down on top of it, so there were pieces of glass ground into his back. He didn’t wince when he pulled them out. Even though Uncle Vernon couldn’t see him, he refused to react. To show that it hurt.

That night, curled up on his cot, Harry dreamed about the day when he would get Uncle Vernon back for every hit, every cut, every stripe of pain from his belt. In his sleep, Harry smiled.

As it turned out, that day came sooner than he thought.

It was a week later. Harry had just finished cooking breakfast for the Dursleys, painfully aware of the three raw sausages in his pocket. Like him, the bunnies preferred their meat rare, and they were getting hungry. Their last proper meal had been a couple of bacon rashers the day before last. As the Dursley’s ate, Harry started on the dishes. If he got them done fast enough, he’d have a few minutes of peace in his cupboard with the kits before chores.

Unfortunately, Dudley had not long since learned how to count. And he was very much aware of the fact that the sausage package held twelve sausages, not nine. “Where are my sausages!?” He cried out with both chubby hands banging at the table. “I want more sausages!”

Aunt Petunia immediately surged out of her chair to comfort him. “What’s wrong with your sausages, baby? Tell mummy what’s wrong.”

“There-there-there’s only nine sausages! There’s meant to be twelve!” Dudley screamed out at the top of his lungs.

Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon turned to look at the sausage plate. Indeed, there were only nine.

“BOY!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!”

Harry turned around at the sink, hand closing around the last dirty knife. “I don’t know, Uncle Vernon.”

The man’s face went red, and then purple. “Where are all the sausages?!”

Burning a hole in my pocket, Harry thought hysterically. He never should have tried to take the sausages – too many, too early, too much. He was just considering the merits of handing them over, maybe it would lessen his punishment, when a large hand connected with the side of his head.

WHAM

Harry stumbled away from the sink, hand still clutching that knife, only to be sent to the floor by another blow. Uncle Vernon stood over him. He looked so much bigger from down here, completely blocking the light from the window, casting his face into shadow.

“How dare you steal from us! We took you in after your worthless parents went and got themselves killed, and this is how you repay us? Stealing food from your own family?! You greedy, ungrateful brat!”

With every insult, Uncle Vernon took another swing at Harry, kicking him along the ground until his was a huddled ball against the wall. Harry struggled to breathe. His ribs were creaking. His wrist was on fire. In his other hand, fingers curled around metal.

“I should send you to an orphanage, see how you like that. Do you know what they do to thieving little brats like you? They –”

Whatever they were going to do to him Harry didn’t know. He was too busy twisting his hand, sending the knife blade deeper into the meat of Uncle Vernon’s leg. The larger man had his mouth open in a silent scream, stumbling away from the attack. Blood ran thickly down his leg as Harry pulled the knife out.

Aunt Petunia hadn’t noticed. “Vernon, what –”

He turned.

She screamed.

“VERNON!”

Harry stood up, unnoticed. His ribs didn’t seem to hurt as much. Reaching out, he grabbed another knife from the knife block. This one was getting slippery.

Aunt Petunia turned to him with a horrified look on her face. “What are you doing?!”

Harry grinned, showing off every bloodied tooth. “I’m getting even Aunty.” He had finally had enough.

She stumbled back a step. Her mouth opened, then closed. Eyes flicked to where the phone was sitting on the hook. Harry’s grin grew wider. “Go ahead Aunty. The neighbours are going to love seeing all the policemen here. I can show everyone my cupboard. Or the belt.”

Apparently, the threat of having all the freakishness Aunt Petunia tried so hard to hide revealed to the neighbourhood wasn’t enough to stop her from stumbling towards the phone.

The screams of her child was.

Harry stepped to the side to see Dudley, still sitting at the table, a half-eaten egg in one hand, writhing in pain as four tiny black blurs darted across his body. One of them – Harry thought it was Ringleader – stopped on his neck and bit down. Blood sprayed across the room. Some of it got into Aunt Petunia’s wide open mouth.

Then there was another scream – Uncle Vernon thrashed as another two bunnies crawled up his body. Demon started to bite at his throat, stopping the screams. Witchy darted under his shirt, where a small lump reached his armpit. Red grew in a wide stain.

Aunt Petunia slowly turned to face him. It was like all the blood had been drained from her body. “What – what – what –”

There was a grin. A flash of sunlight off silver. Blood sprayed the kitchen splashback.

Later, Harry was watched by six attentive bunnies as he carefully carved up the Dursleys. “It’s not really that much different from the chicken Aunt Petunia had me doing last year,” he explained, “Or the goose at Christmas. It’s just harder cause Uncle Vernon’s so fat.”

Aunt Petunia had already been put into the garbage bin Harry had emptied earlier. “I don’t know how I’m going to get rid of them,” Harry grunted as he finally cut through Uncle Vernon’s rib cage. “Maybe I’ll just leave them here.”

“Perhaps I can help you with that, little one,” A smoky voice drawled. Harry shot up, throwing one of the smaller knives towards the woman standing in the doorway. A touch of freakishness helped it fly true.

She caught it. “Very nice shot, little one.” She didn’t seem to mind the stickiness of the handle, or the blood that dripped down onto her fine dress. It was black anyway, so it’s not like blood showed.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Harry was sure he’d locked the front door after emptying the garbage bin.

“A locked door doesn’t keep out an Addams for very long.” Blood red lips stretched out into a razor thin smile. “And I am Morticia. I have come for my family’s rabbits.”

Said bunnies were climbing Harry’s legs. Witchy hid in his hair, with Shadow following right behind. Ringleader stood on one shoulder. Demon, lil’ Fighter and Stormy cuddled into his arm, which he’d automatically curled around them.

“Oh. They belong to you?” Harry wasn’t sure how to feel. It was good that their owner had come to find them, but he’d miss them. They were his friends.

“Not to me personally. The Caerbennog rabbits have been familiars of the Addams for centuries. Their mother is quite attached to mine, and when her kits went missing, I came to find them.” Morticia seemed to only take one step but managed to cross the entire kitchen. Harry looked up at her.

“You have done marvellous work on these, little one,” she remarked, kneeling down beside the partially dismembered Uncle Vernon.

“I’m not little one,” Harry said quietly, “My name’s Harry.”

“Harry… Thank you for taking care of the kits. They seem to have grown up very nicely in you care.”

They were a bit bigger, Harry noticed. When he first found them, he could fit three of them in one hand. Now, they were each the size of his hand, with much thicker fur. “I just took care of them, Miss Morticia.” Harry shifted back a step and whimpered. His ribs were starting to hurt again – or rather, he was noticing his ribs again. He kicked at Uncle Vernon’s leg with a scowl.

Morticia raised a thin eyebrow. “Are you alright Harry?”

He went to nod, to lie, because she was an adult and no adult has ever been good to him, but lil’ Fighter kicked out at his ribs, making him hiss.

Something in Morticia’s face went dark and terrifying, as she brushed a hand across his face. He’d forgotten that Uncle Vernon had hit him.

“Little one, did they hurt you?”

Harry nodded.

“Do you want to come with me, Harry? The kits have become quite attached to you – you would be welcome in my home.”

“Can I – can I grab their nest first?” He whispered. His wrist was protesting the firm hold he had on the knife, so he let it drop.

“Of course you can. Collect all your belongings.”

Morticia followed him to the cupboard, where he had to put down the kits so he could crawl inside. When he emerged with the nest wrapped up in his only clan shirt and pants, she had returned to the kitchen. There were squelching noises, but when she stepped out, there was no blood. “Is that everything, little one?” He hands, when they clasped his, were ice cold and soft.

He glanced back. “Just one more thing…” It was hidden inside one of the stairs, but with his ribs, and his wrist, getting it out was going to hurt. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. The kits hopped out, Shadow, Demon and Witchy pulling a tattered sketchbook with them. Harry smiled, but couldn’t help the tears that started to fall down his cheek. That was his most prized possession – Harry had rescued it from the bin when Dudley threw it out, and it had since been used almost to capacity. Morticia picked it up carefully, Demon climbing her dress and hiding under the fall of her hair.

“You are very skilled,” Morticia murmured, slowly flicking through the pages. Harry held the nest bundle closer to his chest.

She looked up and smiled that razor thin smile. “Come, my husband will be delighted to meet you. Do you have any family?”

Harry glanced to the side. He couldn’t see their bodies anymore, and the blood was gone. “Just the Dursleys. My parents are dead.”

A cold arm wrapped around his shoulders. When Harry dared to lean in a little, it was like being cradled by a marble statue – cold, unyielding, sturdy, supportive. “Hmm. Harry… how does Harrier Addams sound?”

[ificouldau]

Section 1 - Chapter 6

40% of you chose to send Hoshi and Joshua to get help.

> 60% of you chose not to send anyone to get help.

It’s obvious. Splitting up is too dangerous.

“I feel like, as of right now, our best option is to stick together.” You raise your head slowly, anxious to see how the group will react to your decision. Coups sends you a firm nod before turning to the others. “Tie broken. We stay together.”

“We have to go with her...” Seungkwan mumbles. Dino grumbles a bit as well, kicking the floor in defeat. “There goes our only chance of getting help.”

You glance over at Seokmin as he sighs, staring in disappointment at the ground but keeping silent at the final decision. You’re staying together, and that’s that.

( -1 Reputation: Seungkwan, Dino, DK )

You all tense up as the stranger returns from her car, smiling warmly and waving her cell in the air, “I still can’t get any reception, but I’m ready to go when you are!”

The fourteen of you exchange nervous glances as she slows to a stop before the group, hands on her hips as she waits for someone to come along.

Coups speaks up before anyone else can. “Actually… I- We… We thought about it, and… we can’t split up. Thank you so much for all your help... We really do appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?” The woman asks with a pout, “I don’t want to leave you all alone out here.” Coups nods his head again, marking his final answer.

The stranger only smiles warmly in return, tucking her cell back into her pocket and nodding towards you all. “It’s smart... to stick together. You’re all such strong kids. I suppose I’ll get going now, unless you change your mind?” Coups looks carefully at each member before turning to you. Unsure if he’s silently asking for your opinion, you faintly shake your head. His eyes harden, determined, before turning back to the stranger.

“Thank you for your help.” He says, “Be safe on the road.”

“You too... okay? I’ll do whatever I can to get help. Good luck, everyone.”

With that, she turns back to her car, waving her hand in salutations as she leaves. Her eyes linger on you for a moment before opening the car door, and you all gaze back with unsteady eyes. Snow and dust soon kick up behind the wheels, forming a cloud as the stranger speeds off just as quickly as she’d arrived. 

One chance, gone.

As usual, Coups immediately checks in on everybody around him. “Is everyone okay?”

“My leg still hurts.” Jeonghan says. You turn to see him seated on a nearby rock, clutching his injured leg. As the boys move to comfort him, you suddenly remember the medicine from earlier. You reach into your pocket to grab a small pill bottle, the one that Mingyu found in the station just a while ago.

You begin to pull the bottle out of your pocket, but stop. Maybe you’re better off saving this for later.

‘’How badly are you hurt?” Coups sympathizes, “We really should move before it gets dark again.”

Jeonghan stares at his leg, assessing the damage. “I mean… I can walk. Just not all at once.”

The answer seems to satisfy Coups. “That’s alright, we can stop as much as you need. As long as we get going right now.”

“But… where are we going?” Vernon asks as Mingyu helps Jeonghan stand.

“I say we follow the road. It’s gotta lead to somewhere eventually.” Coups decides, turning to pat your shoulder, “Hey, are you okay with that? I know it’s not that planned out, but-”

You cut him off with a smile and a brisk nod, “Let’s go.”

The walk down the road is quiet. Small talk here and there, breaks every few miles, peeking over at the silent road with hopes a police car may pass by. The journey melts into a steady pattern. Walk a few miles... Stop. Walk a few miles... Stop.

At some point, you feel your motivation waning. The snow, the road, the sky. Everything looks the same. Hours have passed, and the sun’s moved further across the sky. You start to wonder if maybe this road doesn’t lead to anything at all. Your legs feel damn heavy.

You can hardly continue any train of thought before Seungkwan yells. “Guys, look!”

You raise your head to see a new dirt path in the mess of trees, winding away from the road and delving further into the forest. After eagerly following it for a while, the vague blur of buildings reaches your sights, a town of tile roofs and stone walls, bustling with the figures of other people.

Coups motions for you all to hurry, so you do. In a few moments, all fourteen of you find yourself stumbling into what seems to be an old village, run by elderly strangers who stare with pure confusion in their steady eyes. They wear heavy clothing and peek from seemingly traditional buildings, mumbling amongst themselves as you all stand between their homes and the empty path.

You turn your head to see a few older women making their way closer, hands behind their backs in a calm manner as you all catch your breath. As they approach, you take note of the neat buns in their dark hair and thick, conservative clothing beneath their deadpan faces. You’re scared all of a sudden. The other boys share nervous glances, and it’s clear they feel the same way, too.

“We… Please… help us-” Coups says apprehensively, pressing his palms together again. “We’re… we’re being chased…”

The women scan the group, clearly untrusting. You don’t blame them. The one at the center, with her hair tied up into rolls, leans into the other women, whispering. They eye the boys back and forth for a moment as Coups frantically explains everything, from waking up in ropes to finding the path along the roadside. At some point, a few of the boys fall to their knees in desperate bows, and as the center woman meets your eyes, you feel Joshua’s hand tap your back. “Just bow,” He whispers, and you crouch onto your knees out of not only respect, but some sense of fear. The woman doesn’t take her eyes off of you the entire time, so you’re surprised to stand back up and see her holding a gentle hand out for you to take.

“You can stay here for now,” She says. You almost tear up as she closes her fingers around yours, guiding you and the others into the village without a second to spare.

Some time passes, and you struggle with processing it all. All fourteen of you walk alongside the village elders with curious eyes as they explain each and every building, each and every face you see. You all ease to a halt in front of a few wide stone homes, glancing around at one another and waiting to be directed again. The woman who first stood at the center turns to you all with a warm smile, a completely different feeling from when she was staring you down just before.

“We have a few empty side houses here,” she offers, “You can split up as you li-” “Do you have one we can all stay in together?” Hoshi interrupts frantically. Jeonghan hits his arm as a warning to keep quiet, but the woman only laughs. “If you all fit in one, please feel free.”

“Thank you. God… Thank you so much for your hospitality. If we can help in any way at all, just let us know. We can cook, clean, anything to repay you… Please!” Coups laughs, clearly overwhelmed, but in a good way nonetheless.

The kind woman laughs again. “Make yourselves at home.”

The boys cheer amongst one another, patting backs and holding their heads in amazement at the sudden situation. After another collective bow, most of them are quick to skip into the nearest stone building, a few of the elders laughing as if they hadn’t seen a kid play in years. Some of the boys stay back to talk to the village people, and a few are whisked away to be bandaged up and healed. You even spot Vernon and Chan sprinting towards a towering tree, pulling at each other’s shirts as they race for what seems to be an old swing beneath its branches.

You laugh, the last one standing beside the older woman, as she turns to you with a kind grin. “And you… You can stay with me tonight. Right next door to that little house the boys went into.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I can’t thank you enough-”

“It’s no bother at all, dear. Go look around the village. You probably miss it.”

Before you can question the woman’s phrasing, she pats your head gently, then turns and walks off. Left alone, you don’t have much else to do but look around as she’d suggested. Walking deeper down the quaint buildings, you spot the boys here and there. Those who were injured sit in front of a small shack, an older man tending to their wounds. You can see Coups, helping another man to chop down firewood.

“Nice cut, son! Aim towards the center a bit more this time.” The man’s compliments towards Cheol force an involuntary smile out of you.

A little ways away, you can see Mingyu and Seungkwan sitting with a little old woman in front of a small fire. As you approach out of curiosity, it seems that she’s teaching them to cook something.

“While that soaks, we need to peel the chestnuts,” She explains as you slow to a stop right in front of the fire. You watch the boys reach for chestnuts upon a small wooden table before a sudden voice reaches your ears, nearly causing you to jump out of your own skin.

“I have a chestnut.” Someone says from behind you. Turning around, you see Junhui mere inches behind where you stand, a couple of chestnuts laying flat in his open palm.

For the next hour or so, the four of you sit about the table as the woman explains the art of her craft. You’re thankful to spend some peaceful time with a few of the boys for once, rather than watching as they flee through the night in horror. Seungkwan smiles your way as you grab an unpeeled chestnut from the table, but the woman stands up and stops you before you can continue.

“Dear,” she says, “I’m gonna go grab a strainer. Teach them while I’m gone.”

You blink in utter confusion. You aren’t even sure what it is that you’re making. Mingyu laughs and pats your shoulder, nodding towards the chestnuts in your hand. “Well,” He giggles, “Teach us!” You can’t help but laugh too as Seungkwan and Junhui join in, pushing lightly at your arms and pleading jokingly for you to continue the lesson.

Night falls faster than you can expect it to, and for once, you can catch your breath and rest. You head back towards the stone houses after a long, relieving day, thanking the universe for such a grand blessing in the darkest time.

“Over here, dear.” You hear the familiar older woman call from one of the buildings. The one from earlier, kind enough to share her home with you, to give you shelter. You hurry to join her in the tight, candle lit room, closing the door behind you as she dusts off a newly placed mat on the floor. Next to it, she’s set a small candle lantern, and you feel a wave of emotion as you lay down and watch its soft flame flicker. Wrapped up in the heavy blanket, your eyes feel much heavier. Comforted by safety, you gently drift into a much needed slumber.

A few hours pass, just like at the cable car station. You are at peace, for a while.

At some point, a high pitched shriek forces your eyes open as you clutch your blanket in terror. Before even thinking, you jump to your feet, throwing open the door and hurrying towards the boys’ house in the pitch black night. You don’t even notice whether the older woman is still asleep or not on the way out, but there’s no time to think. You knock a few times on the boys’ door. All in one swift motion, you feel a hand grab your wrist, yanking you into the room before the door shuts closed again, as if you’d never even entered. The air is dark, the thirteen boys’ terrified faces illuminated by nothing but a faint candle in the center of the room.

“You heard it, too?” Seungkwan asks, being the one who dragged you in. Blankets litter the ground, everyone seated upon them in a circle with any sense of hope lost completely.

“Yeah, what was it?” You ask, dread flooding your body as you take a seat on the floor. No one makes a sound for a moment, then another scream pierces the air. A distant deep voice cries for help, with sheer desperation, before falling dead silent. You clasp a hand over your mouth in horror.

Minghao stares at the closed door with glossy eyes. “They found us again.”

“That’s besides the point.” Coups whispers hurriedly, “We brought them here. We brought murderers into a village full of people.”

Seungkwan winces, closing his eyes in pain at the thought. “We gotta go. Now.”

“We were finally safe,” Joshua states with a shaky voice, “I don’t want anybody to get hurt, but we have supplies here. Food. Medicine. If we leave, we’re really dead this time.”

“What if,” Wonwoo begins. This is the first time you’ve properly heard him talk. “We make it look like we left? If we hide around the village, we have enough time to get supplies. If we don’t get caught, they’ll assume we’re gone.”

“That’s too dangerous.” Minghao states, “We shouldn’t risk the lives of this village.”

Vernon shakes his head. “Wonwoo has a good point… We can’t survive any longer out there.”

“We need to leave now.”

“We’ll die without supplies.”

“Innocent people will be killed if we stay here.”

The group quiets down as their stares land on you.

“Huh?” You ask, thirteen pairs of eyes glued to your own once again.

Hoshi clears his throat. “I mean… You’ve brought us this far.”

“Why do you keep doing this…?” You murmur, praying to push the responsibility away.

“Soonyoung’s right. I trust you.” Jihoon says, staring at you with a strong look of determination in his eyes. You snap your gaze over to him in horror, unsure of how to respond to his sudden words. The memory of the woman’s scream rings in your ears, playing over and over again without rest. Leaving now is a death trap, but hiding puts innocent people at risk. There’s no time… The life of everyone is in your hands.

- Leave the village.

or

- Hide and gather supplies.

( Vote now on instagram.com/ificould_au. You have 24 hours. )

[sighingsiren-tales]

The Beta

ARTIST: Woozi from SEVENTEEN

GENRE: Smut

LENGTH-3k

A/N: So, hehehe, this one was quite fun to write. Sorry it took so long to post, my laptop was broken but we are back in business! Im finishing up some more requests right now. Enjoy my loves~

~Kae

GIF IS NOT MINE.

Woozi was always one to communicate with you; There was never a day that went by that he didn't check in with you at least once.So when he didn't say anything to you for nearly 10 days, you were beginning to worry. Why wasn't he texting you back? You needed answers

“Where is he?” You demanded, stepping into the living room like a woman on a mission as you were met with 12 confused and panicked faces.

“You shouldn’t be here” Seungcheol spoke tenderly, stepping forward just as his face began to lose its color and give way to his panicked expression.

“What do you mean I can’t be here?” You questioned, the hurt obvious on your features and in your tone of voice.

How could Seungcheol say something like that to you? He knew that you loved Jihoon with every fiber of your being, just as he did and he said that to you? Your anger boiled beneath the surface steadily as this resonated with you. 

“Seriously, he’s going to be able to smell you within the next few seconds” Vernon spoke hurriedly, his voice displaying obvious panic. 

You scrunched your nose in confusion. 

“Since when was that ever an issue?” You questioned defensively. 

Just what the hell was going on around here? Why was it such an inconvenience that you wanted to see your boyfriend? 

 “Love, you need to leave, now ” Joshua spoke, his soothing voice the only calming aspect in this situation even though he was saying the same thing as the others.

Why were they keeping him from you? Did they not know that you knew what he was and that you didn’t care? You wanted to love all of Jihoon, not just the parts that were convenient to the laws of this natural world. You had fallen in love with his sarcastic, playful exterior almost as much as you had fallen for his soft, reserved side. You loved all of Jihoon and they had no right to demand that you withhold it.

“He told me” you countered, your voice showcasing your strong and unwavering conviction although you weren't so sure if this declaration could cause possible issues. 

“Told you what?” Wonwoo’s deep drawl came from his place on the armchair just as he placed his book on his lap.

“He told me what he is. I know that he’s a werewolf and I don’t care” You declared strongly, watching as Seungcheol’s face switched from concern to utter surprise.

“He told you what exactly?” He asked, obviously taken aback even a bit angry.

“Jihoon’s not usually that impulsive” Jun spoke up, looking around the room at the others in search for a proper reaction.

“So you know that he’s a werewolf and you stayed?” Minghao asked, eyebrow raised well behind the frames of his glasses.

You nodded.

“I love him for who he is. What he is doesn't matter to me”. 

“You sure you know what this means? And you're ready to accept all of the side effects?” Jeonghan asked, obviously skeptical to say the least. 

Before you could even nod your confirmation, you were interrupted.

“She’s here” You heard a deep voice reminiscent of the man you loved.

“Shit” You heard Seokmin whisper with slight terror in his voice.

“Don’t touch her” Seungcheol warned hurriedly, causing the boys to spread out and away from you almost immediately.

“Huh?” You vocalized rather stupidly; Why couldn’t they touch you? You weren’t wearing any silver nor was kinship between you and the boys ever an issue before so just what the hell was causing such changes?

At that very moment, Jihoon walked in, his eyes connecting with your own the moment he stepped into the large living space. His gaze, however, was different than what you were useful. The passion contained in those eyes were almost enough to knock the wind out of you; You had never seen him look at you, much less nothing else, like this before. You could’ve cut the tension in the room with a blade as he leaned against the nearest wall, his slightly wet tresses pushed away from his face with nothing but gray sweatpants on his body. The devious look in his eyes made it near impossible for you to take your own away from his shirtless form, memorizing the grooves and ridges of his toned chest and stomach with your eyes. A smile crossed his lips the moment your eyes raised to meet his own again and, in the moment you saw that smile, you didn’t bother to heed the weird and cryptic warnings from the boys and ran up to him, throwing your arms around his neck. His body seemed much hotter than usual but you barely paid that small detail any mind as he let a single arm curl around your waist and pull you to him possesively. Let his head fall to the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply, something he didn’t normally do in such a blatant manor.

“You haven't spoken to me in almost 10 days. I thought that something happened to you” you whispered against the skin of his neck.

You heard him let out a slight dark growl as your lips brushed the damp skin of his neck.

“You smell so good baby” he complimented, although his dark voice and sexual undertones overpowered the innocence of the compliment.

“Jihoon-”he barely allowed a full pronunciation of his name before his head snapped up to meet Seungcheol’s form.

“Get out” Jihoon spoke smoothly, although his tone left absolutely no room for argument.

“You’re not thinking straight hyung. Remember what you made us promise you” Chan spoke up, taking a step towards the two of you.

That simply action caused Jihoon to clutch onto your waist tighter, keeping you as close to him as possible as he let a growl escape his throat.

“Baby?” You questioned him before you pulled back just in time to see his eyes flash a dangerous yet visually seductive color of melted copper.

What in the world was going on with him?

“I’m thinking perfectly fine. Now all of you get out. You can come back tomorrow but right now, I want to be alone with her” Jihoon spoke in an authoritative tone that you have never heard from him before.

“Jihoon” you let his name trail off your lips as you slowly pulled away from his embrace, a bit confused and slightly scared.

You made it about an inch away from him before he pulled you back to him.

“You can not just say my name like that and then pull away from me” he rasped in your ear possessively.

Whatever had gotten into Jihoon was a strange mix between terrifying yet arousing and you were constantly teetering the line between the two. 

“We tried to keep you out of this” Mingyu sighed, his comment directed towards you.

Jihoon’s eyes flashed to Mingyu’s dangerously causing Wonwoo to flock to his side immediately, stretching his arm out in front of Mingyu’s mid section as a means to protect him. Why would he ever need to protect Mingyu from Jihoon? Did he truly believe that Jihoon would hurt him?

“Why are you still here? If I have to say it again, I am going to lose my patience. Get. Out” Those words caused the immediate movement of feet, the boys filing out quietly. 

“Are we seriously leaving right now?” Seungkwan asked incredously. 

‘You want to get between a man and his mate, especially right now, be my guest” Joshua countered.

What in god’s name was so special about right now? You were tired of having so many question and so little answers. Seungcheol, being one of the last to depart, seeing as he was the head of the pack turned back towards us before he reached the doorway.

“Jihoon, mind yourself” he warned before giving me one lasting look of concern and turning towards the door.

The moment the door clicked behind him, indicating that it had locked, Jihoon was on your body in an instant; Grabbing handfuls of your ass as he pulled you to rock against his erection. It was unexpected but the effect was instantaneous; Your body was immediately going into sexual overdrive, your temperature raising by the second and you could feel the light drips of your arousal spill out and onto your panties. The reaction was so fast it was embarrassing.

“Look at how beautifully your body reacts to me” he groaned, lifting you with relative ease and instructing you to lock your legs around his waist.

You couldn’t explain the switch in thought process but then sudden feeling of Jihoon’s body melding with yours caused it to be the only thing on your mind. You felt your fingers tangling themselves within the damp strands of his dark hair before pulling him to meet your lips. This kiss was different from your normal sweet pecks; It was filled with an intense passion that was contained within every nerve of his tongue. He leaned down slightly, tapping your thighs once to signal you to jump. You did so immediately, letting him carry you to where he wanted. You were so focused on the soft and skilled feel of his tongue and lips that you hadn’t noticed that your back was now against the plush dark red cotton sheets of his bed. Jihoon sat back on his heels to admire you, his fingertips dancing down the front of your button up before he grabbed at the shirt and tore it, the buttons spilling out onto both the bed and floor. You couldn’t even vocalize how arousing it was to watch him lose himself like this, although you had absolutely no idea why. He took him mere moments before he dove back in between your legs, rutting against your sex sensually as he kissed the skin of your neck feverishly. He was much harsher this time, kissing, sucking and biting as he pleased. You could practically feel the hickies begin to bloom on your neck and chest as he continued his ministrations down your body. 

“Look at these pretty marks on your body” His voice was strained, as if he was holding himself back. 

You opened your eyes to meet his gaze, although his own was preoccupied with the sight of your body laid out just for him. He tugged at your jeans once with a gruff “off” leaving his lips. As you scrambled to do as he commanded, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m starting to think maybe they were right about keeping you away from me”.

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, letting your jeans fall to the floor as you stared down he man in front of you.

“Why?’.

“You know that werewolves go through their period of heat like every other animal, right?” He asked, his eyes flashing that dangerous golden color once more as his gaze trailed the contours of your body.

“H-heat?” You stuttered to which Jihoon leaned down, letting his erection rock against your clothes clit once more before speaking.

“It lasts about 2 and half weeks and I made the boys promise to keep you away from me because I was positive that I’d feel the same way that I do right now” He spoke, ending his sentiment with a heated kiss to your collarbone, his long fingers dipping past the barrier of your panties.

“A-and how’s that?” You stuttered, referring to his own feelings whole pushing your head back against the sheets as you gripped at his shoulders.

He pulled away from your collar bone, slithering up to your neck before he spoke slowly into your ear:

“That I’m not stopping until you're pregnant”.

Wait, huh? Looking up at Jihoon and into the melted pools of copper desire that he had for eyes, you had the most electrifying yet terrifying realization: He was dead serious. Holy shit. Were you ready to be a mother?

“Tell me what you want me to do to you” he demanded in a husky voice as he placed his lips dangerously close to your inner thighs.

You could barely get a word out before his fingers were trailing up the sides of your legs and stopping at the waistband of your panties. His eyes went to yours and he let them drag down your legs. 

“Jihoon, stop fucking with me” You whined pitifully. 

His gaze flashed to yours, eyes hard as steel.

“You can get away with talking to me like that any other time but not now. Now, I’d fuck you senseless so I advise you watch your tone” His voice was comprised of harsh and sexy tones, causing you to heed his warning with a quickness. 

They barely got to your knees before the scent of your arousal hit him hard. His eyes burned brighter, the deep copper color giving way to a vibrant orange. He dragged your closer, hooking his arms under your thighs and burying his face between the apex of your thighs. A loud, high pitched moan left your lips as you pushed your head back against the cool sheets. Jihoon groaned at the taste of you, letting out a shaky moan as he pushed his tongue past the damp opening. He tongued at you like a starved man, his tongue curling so sinfully as his soft, plush lips pressed against your clit. You couldn’t contain your moans, your body reacting on its on in such intense ways that the pleasure was near overwhelming. You were becoming louder and louder, throwing caution to the wind as you gripped the strands of his hair and directed him towards your swollen clit. He let out an inhuman growl, one of the sexiest things you had ever heard, before he dove in again, pushing his face deeper against your folds as he licked away to his hearts content. You could barely speak a word as the man between your legs gave you pleasure unbeknownst to you beforehand.

“Jihoon” You stuttered pathetically, causing the man to raise his head, his gaze meeting yours fiercely.

His eyes were now a dark and dangerous color of red; It screamed for you to run, that the man above toy was dangerous but you couldn’t bare to think of anything else as he crawled over you slowly. With his gaze on yours, his hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you threw caution to the wind, begging for him to come closer. Smirking, he obliged, letting his body weight come down onto yours pleasureably, kissing your lips in such a sensual manner that it nearly took your breath away. You let your fingertips trace alongside the side of his body, their pace slow as you reached your destination: the waistband of his sweatpants. The moment his skin touched yours, he pulled away from the kiss and hissed.

“Baby, please. Think about this carefully” he warned, his voice strained as he was physically holding back his desire.

Just the sight of that alone was enough for your heart to sweep at how much love and respect this man had for you. Despite his heat, he still held back to make sure this was what you wanted. You gave him his answer in the form of your fingers slipping into both his sweatpants and briefs. You traced the bare skin of his hip before pulling him closer, your lips brushing up against his as your gaze lifted from his mouth to his eyes.

“Off” was your simple command.

He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow whilst pushing his sweatpants and briefs down his hips.

“Giving me orders huh?” He questioned cheekily, although his wolf was feeling challenged at my command.

“Why are you still talking?” You asked in an exasperated fashion just as Jihoon kicked his bottoms to the floor.

He raised an eyebrow before moving to your side with a quickness that you never seen from him before. His had tangled themselves in your tresses as he watched you with a hardened gaze. 

“I thought I told you to stop talking to me like that” He spoke, his voice hardened and angry. 

“Jihoon” You whimpered quietly.

That set him off almost immediately; He pulled you over to where he was standing by the edge of the bed, directed your mouth directly to his erection. The position he had you in made it perfect for him to see the arch of your back as. you took him into your mouth. He hissed, letting his fingers thread through your tresses as he guided you. 

“Fuck, look at that ass” He landed a solid crack to your right cheek before letting out a strained “keep going”. 

You moved each time you took more of him in your throat, your arch more prominent that ever when you deep throated him. You could feel the wetness from between your thighs seep out onto the sheets and Jihoon caught it immediately, a devilish smirk gracing his features. 

“You’re this wet from sucking my dick?” He asked, obviously amused. 

You didn't bother to answer, instead you hollowed out your cheeks as much as you could and watched his reaction which was a gorgeous sight of him throwing his head back, mouth agape. At that moment he pulled you up from your position, getting on the bed quickly. You leaned back watching with your bottom lip caught between your teeth as he sat back on his ankles. He let his tongue run over the skin of his bottom lip once before speaking.

“Open your legs for me” he commanded darkly, the sound of his voice alone causing your arousal to spill out onto the bed.

You kept your eyes on his, all shame melting away immediately as you opened your legs slowly. Jihoon let a slow smirk cross his lips.

“I love seeing you open your legs for me” he husked before leaning down, kissing the skin on your neck tenderly as he rubbed the tip of his cock back and forth your sex.

“O-oh god” You stuttered as he slipped in while sucking the juncture of your neck and your collar bone simultaneously.

Jihoon let his quiet groans and your loud whines fill the room as he pushed in as deep as he could go, his lips flush against yours. He let out a husky, loud whimper, bracing his hands on either side of your head whilst going deeper. The same pace in was the same pace out; He intended to wear you out and you knew that he would see his mission through to the end. How he was keeping his control, you had absolutely no idea. Letting his head drop to the crook of your neck, he shuddered and let out a slight, short lived chuckle before speaking.

“Fuck, my girl feels so good” He husked.

You relished in his possessive nature since it wasn’t something that he allowed to be seen very often. It turned you on to no end and you wanted to hear more and more of it.

“You like it when I call you mine don't you?” He asked in a rough tone. 

You nodded wildly but this wasn't enough for him as he thrust in so deep it almost hurt. 

“Say it” he commanded gruffly. 

“I love it” You managed weakly.

He went back to his merciless thrusts instantaneously.

“Jihoon” You whined, arching your back so that you were pushing up into his body; You needed to feel all of him. Maneuvering yourself swiftly, you placed your leg on his shoulder, before curling the other around his waist tightly. Snuggling your head into the crook of his neck, you gripped onto whatever skin of his that you could while you whispered a small, lust filled “please”.

“Please what?” He asked rather roughly, trying his best to keep his composure but quickly failing.

Placing a small kiss to his neck, you paused before speaking.

“I’m all yours Jihoon. Please make me cum”.

In that sexy low tone of voice that hinted at desperation, Jihoon was barely able to deny you. He went into overdrive, pulling out almost all the way only to slam back in countless times. You could feel him brushing your g-spot with ease and you cried out each and every time he dove back in.

“Say it again” he demanded, one hand steadily climbing up the plane of your stomach.

“It’s yours” you moaned, unashamed of who could possibly hear you.

“Again” he demanded, his fingers curling around your neck  as he snapped his hips.

“O-oh my god, it’s yours Jihoon, fuck, it’s all yours” you panted out, pushing your head back against the sheets as Jihoon’s pace picked up mercilessly, the sounds of skin meeting skin loud and quick.

“Fuck” He hissed, pulling out quickly, 

You had almost thought he was going back on his word That was until he spoke.

“Hands and knees”. 

You did as he did quickly, going on your hands and knees only to have him push down on your lower back, causing you to arch.

“Don't fucking play with me right now” He growled in reference to your arch and how deep you could really arch it. 

You arched as deep as you could, head against the sheets as gripped onto your hips. 

“That’s right, that ass is mine” He spoke proudly. 

He dove in with no warning and no consideration; He was as rough as you had ever had him. 

“Tell me who you belong to” He commanded in a strained tone of voice.

“You” you groaned, gripping onto the sheets as you rocked your ass back against him.

“Who’s making you feel like this?” He barked out.

“You, Jihoon, you” you Panted out, nearing your climax quickly.

“Mm, and only me right?���.

You nodded before crying out.

“Say it”.

You complied but only by the skin of your teeth; The statement was littered with curses and moans on your part.

Jihoon leaned down, letting his hips speak for himself as he drove into you again and again and again.

“I’m not pulling out” he groaned whilst biting down on the shell of your ear.

“Don’t” You whine. 

His thrusts continued as he groaned into your ear, nearing his end. The moment he let his index finger drag against your clit, you knew that you would come before him. He knew this as well and he only offered one simple, husky instruction: “Scream my name”. The second he pinched the small nub you were gone, screaming his name as loud as you possibly could, the endless waves of euphoria only prolonged when he let out a soft “fuck” and held onto your hips as he spilled his seed inside of you. You couldn’t think of anything else besides the man inside of you. You had long since collapsed onto the bed, although Jihoon was still above you After a few moments of silence, Jihoon kissed your cheek before speaking.

“I think we should start thinking of baby names as well as get you situated as the female beta of the pack”.

You were too tired to verbally answer you just nodded as Jihoon threaded his hand through your hair. 

[mingyoozi]

Vernon: Covetous

Summary: I didn’t actually intend for this to be fanfic I was just trying to do some prompt writing that focused on sense exposition and it turned into this hot mess 

The air was filled with the damp smell of dawn. The sun was rising in the horizon and there was a layer of fog lingering so low that it almost touched the ground. It was the middle of October, closer to winter than it was to summer, and the early morning silence was eerie. Your window was covered in a thick film of condensation, built up over a long night of not being able to sleep. It was cracked open, enough that your room wasn’t suffocatingly hot but you were still protected from the bite of the early morning atmosphere.

Your mind had been busy all night, plagued by deep brown irises flecked with gold and the smell of something masculine yet subtle. The silence was unwavering.

“Can’t sleep?”

You hadn’t even heard your door open or shut again. You froze, not wanting to give yourself up.

“Don’t just sit there and pretend,” He said. “These walls are thin. I’ve been listening to you toss and turn all night.”

He took a seat on the corner of your bed and placed a hand delicately at the nape of your neck. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Hansol had been your roommate for three years, but you’d been friends for longer. You’d seen him pine after girls, have his heart crushed, and then patched back up again. If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with him, you would’ve laughed in their face. However, at the stroke of dawn, it was an idea that was so real it haunted you.

“A lot,” You said.

“And nothing all at once?” He finished. He pushed at your legs. “Scooch.”

You made room for him and he nestled himself up against you, under your blankets. He’d showered before he went to bed, and the scent of his body wash still lingered. Or maybe it was yours. You’d shared the same space for so long that it had become hard to tell where he ended and you began.

“Hansol,” You started, turning to face him. Looking at him so close up was something that you seldom did, and the vision of his skin glistening in the warm early morning lighting made your breath catch in your throat. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we’d never met each other?”

He sighed to himself, but the corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “I think I’d just be sad. You make me a better person. And I wouldn’t have met Chae.” He says.

You gulped down the lump in your throat. “How’s Chaeyoung doing? I haven’t heard from her in a while.” You say. His smile grows wider.

“She’s great. I think she misses you.” He said, his voice brimming with affection. You could tell how much she meant to him.

You moved closer, resting your head on his chest. He let you, lacing a hand through your hair and pressing his fingers to your scalp. It had been one of the only ways to get you to fall asleep on sleepless nights for as long as you can remember. And it always had to be Hansol.

“I know you think that she abandoned you for me or the other way around, but I promise she still thinks you’re her knight in shining armour or whatever.” He said.

You snorted. “She’s my best friend. She’s my knight in shining armour, too.” You said. You could feel your bones starting to weigh down into your bed.

Hansol pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you started to feel yourself drifting into a sleep-like lull. “Thank you for letting me be her prince.” He said.

It’s the last thing you remember when you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an empty heart.

-

“I’m so glad I caught you.” Chaeyoung says. She settles down onto the couch next to you.

Hansol had texted you while you were out getting coffee, telling you that Chaeyoung came around and you now required a third beverage in your order.

Chaeyoung lifts a cup from the tray and brings it to her lips. As soon as she takes a sip, she wrinkles her nose. “Nope. That’s definitely yours.” She says, passing it over to you.

You giggle. “I’m sorry that my taste in coffee offends you.”

“I can see why you and Hansol get along.” She says, as if she’s known him for longer than she’s known you.

“Yes, Chae. Our mutual love for black americanos is what’s kept us friends since we were kids.” You say.

She doesn’t sense the sarcasm in your voice and she giggles instead. She grabs the right cup of coffee this time, a sweetened cappuccino that you would probably be drinking if you weren’t so sleep deprived. You sit in silence for a minute before she speaks again, but it’s a comfortable silence that you’ve grown used to with her. Sometimes, you’ll sit in the same room for hours without speaking, but her company alone has always been comforting.

“You’re okay, though? Your meds— Hansol told me you haven’t been sleeping well. Is there something on your mind?” She asks, gnawing at her lips.

You sigh. “When have I ever slept well? I’m fine, Chaeyoung.” You say.

She nods and you return to your silence until you hear the creak of the shower turning off. Hansol steps out of the bathroom in his towel, grabs his coffee and presses a kiss to Chaeyoung’s forehead, and then retreats to his own room.

“I’m gonna go…” She trails off. You nod your head in acknowledgement; you know what she means. “Text me, yeah? I know I haven’t been around much lately, but I’m always here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.”

You nod again, staring down at the lip of your coffee cup so she doesn’t see the way that your eyes glaze over with tears. You can feel it building in your throat, and you try so hard to choke it down even after she’s gone. But when Hansol’s door clicks shut, your resolve shatters.

-

The transition into winter brings the smell of spices and pine trees. You and Hansol set up your little Christmas tree on a slow weekend, just the two of you and two mugs of hot chocolate. Christmas music is playing in the background constantly, and the glow of the Christmas tree greets you when you walk into your apartment on the darker afternoons.

“Your gift has been ordered.” Hansol mumbles one morning with a piece of toast half hanging out of his mouth. He’s clearly still half asleep and his hair is a mess.

You giggle. “Were you awake when you ordered it?” You tease. He swallows his toast and grins at you.

“I cannot confirm nor deny.” He says.

You trudge over to him and glue yourself to his back in a lump. He holds a piece of toast over his shoulder for you to take a bite out of and you chomp on it lazily while he massages the arm that you’ve slung around his waist.

“Chaeyoung and I are going to the Christmas market later. You coming?” He asks. He’s inhaled his toast in a matter of minutes, and he tries to maneuver his way to the sink with his empty plate while still keeping you blanketed over his body.

You freeze, trying to pull yourself away from him but he keeps his iron grip on your arms. “I have exams to study for.” You say. It’s a lie, all your exams ended last week and Hansol knows.

He sighs. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on with you? I’m getting really tired of guessing and I’m running out of ideas.” He says.

“Hansol, I—“ You start, but he cuts you off. He sounds angry, and you can’t really blame him.

“Do you like Chaeyoung? I’m sorry that I asked her out, but it’s almost been a year and you said you were okay with it when we started dating.” He says.

You feel your face start to get hot. You pull away from him, bringing your arms up against your chest like he’s burnt you. “What? Hansol, what are you talking about?”

“You always freeze up when I talk about her and you never hang out with us anymore. If you like her just tell me and I’ll break it off.” He yells.

Your stomach drops and his words start to ring in your ears. “Does she really mean that little to you?” You say, your words dripped with disgust.

“Of course not,” He says. “I love her, but you’re more important to me than anyone else. When will you see that?”

Fat tears start to roll down your face, catching on your chin and dripping off onto your crossed arms. “I’m in love with you, Hansol. I’ve been in love with you for, like, two years and it’s tearing me apart inside. Why do you think my anxiety meds and the sleeping pills don’t do anything? You take up so much of my mind and I can’t do anything about it.” You sob. You wipe your face onto your sleeve, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck you, Y/N.” He says, his voice wavering, and that’s when you realize that he’s crying with you. “I can’t believe you never told me.”

You sniffle. “I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“No, I’m—“ He hesitates, “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.”

You nod, wiping away the last of your tears. Your face feels puffy and your chest hurts from sobbing so hard. “What now?” You ask.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, but I can’t just break up with Chaeyoung and move on in a day.” He says.

“So?” You ask. It makes you feel like a bitch, but you’ve gone this long wallowing in your own despair and you want answers.

“We wait it out.”