#and there are burnmarks all over the kitchen

[weirdraccoon]

Another idea if you're interested 💕.

Praticamente il seguito di un'idea già realizzata.

MC e Sebastian hanno un appuntamento romantico (o un intoppo di lavoro come preferisci) e chiedono a Eleazar di fare da babysitter alla piccola Miriam per qualche ora e proprio in quel momento Miriam decide di sviluppare una magia accidentale (sparando fuoco dalla sua bocca ecc.)

ohmygodohmygodyeeees!!! (i haven't forgotten about the last one, just these days I'm not feeling up for anything but this one yeeees!!!"

I hope google translate didn't muck it up cause I don't know Italian xd

Practically the sequel to an idea already realized.

MC and Sebastian have a romantic date (or a business snag as you prefer) and ask Eleazar to babysit little Miriam for a few hours and just then Miriam decides to develop accidental magic (shooting fire from her mouth etc. )

will also add a silly drawing later. this gave me "jack jack attack" vibes

Fig waved goodbye from his doorstep, also grabbing little Miriam's hand to wave goodbye to her parents. The young couple had the privilege to be invited to a gala celebrating something or other at the Ministry, or like Sebastian liked to explain it "to suffer through a night of schmoozing and networking".

Well, if EmSea wanted to become Minister she had to schmooze and network as much as possible. And Ominis would be there to help them. Fig wasn't too worried about his girl's ambitions.

"How about we have some dinner and then we listen to music while we do our homework?"

Miriam was only five years old, way too young to go to Hogwarts, but with parents like hers, she had been introduced to magical and muggle culture and history from the moment she was born. Sebastian, mainly, loved to read to her and he taught her how to read in record time. EmSea, on her part, liked to stroll in muggle London, taking her daughter with her so she could understand muggles were as human as wizarkin. So far, it seemed like the little girl loved all the muggle items she saw in her walks, but also all the old traditions wizards practice.

And she was already showing signs of powerful magic.

Fig never saw any of this, but according to Sebastian and EmSea, little Miriam was proficient at the summoning charm. There was nowhere in their house where they could hide the cookies or candy. Miriam always found them or summoned them from their places to her little hands.

At least she hadn't shown any ancient magic yet. Fig didn't know for sure how EmSea grew up or how dangerous her accidental magic was, but he hoped little Miriam didn't face the same obstacles as her mom did.

Miriam wouldn't have to hide her magic, bury it so deep it only came out under duress at her almost fifteen years old... No. Fig, along with Sebastian, EmSea, and Ominis (who has been an excellent godfather so far) would make sure Miriam grew up loved and safe and developing her magic to her full potential.

So, thinking about the books he read about kids' healthy development, Fig played some classic music that was supposed to help with attention and mind awareness.

"I like that," Miriam babbled, dutifully coloring the book her father left her with. "It's... relaxing," she giggled, laying her head on top of the book.

Fig smirked, glad the child liked it. He sat on his sofa with the new year's lesson plan and focused on correcting it. His apprentice was good but still needed some corrections here and there, specifically when organizing the topics from general to specific.

He wasn't sure how much time went by, but suddenly he realized Miriam had been way too quiet for a little five-year-old. He peeked over his papers and froze when he saw her missing.

"Shoot," he jumped to his feet, trying not to panic. "Ok, ok, it's ok. The wards won't let her go out, she has to be here," he looked around. The flat wasn't too big: a kitchen, a dining space, the living space he was currently standing in, two bedrooms, and one bathroom. "Miriam?" He called. "Where are you, you little snidget?"

Nothing.

Then.

Giggles echoed around him, sending shivers down his spine and making him look around with anxiety.

"I knew EmSea was a demon but why did she have a demon baby?" He muttered, then walked to the hallway that led to EmSea's old room. "Miriam?"

Something popped behind him, making him flinch and turn with his wand in hand.

There was nothing there.

Another 'pop'. Then another. And another. Surrounding him.

"Oh my dear Merlin, Miriam, are you apparating!?" He cried. "That's. that's dangerous, dear! Just- Hey! Who wants a cookie?"

Pop!

Miriam apparated right into his arms. He grunted and caught her before she could fall.

"I like cookies, gran'pa," Miriam grinned innocently.

"Yeah, ok," Fig sighed, tightening his hold on her. "But no more apparating. And your mom said only one before going to bed."

Miriam frowned but kept quiet as Fig took her to the kitchen. Her wide brown eyes observed as he opened the cupboard over the sink and revealed the full jar of cookies. He grabbed only one.

"Here, let's go back to sitting, shall we?"

Miriam munched on her cookie, but her eyes were glued to the cupboard.

Suddenly, it caught on fire.

"Fuck!" Fig shouted, placing Miriam on the floor. "Shit. No- Don't- Don't repeat those words, ok darling?" Then he ran back to the kitchen, trying to stop the fire with a couple of spells.

When the fire died out, he turned to make sure Miriam wasn't injured.

He found her munching on more cookies, jar safely guarded between her legs.

"This is going be a long night, isn't it?"

Miriam giggled.

Then floated.

The music didn't sound so relaxing anymore.

[greennightspider]

FairyTale #2: CinderEric Part 2

Summary: A hotheaded Dauntless initiate has some steam to blow off. What better way than to blow it on one of the biggest nights of the Dauntless year, with one of the fiercest bigshots around? 

Part 1

**SMUT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

Eric x Elle

You nervously tapped your foot on the floor as you sat in the dark initiate changing room, only to be thwacked by Danny's towel.

"Chill Elle, you got out."

And he was right. You had made it back in time for curfew with none the wiser. No one seemed to think that the "phantomed challenger" might be an initiate, and your comrades didn’t give you more flack than normal. 

Although you had already heard more than enough rumors that morning to fill a book, it seemed that you had managed to pull off the most daring fight of your life AND still save your ass.

But you couldn't shake the look Eric gave you after he'd won. The Dauntless leader looked 10 times more incensed right there than at any other point in the match.

Which meant he probably knew.

Eric heard you and Danny during the fight. There was no way he didnt, with the way he soured when he should’ve have been basking in his victory. Someone with his amount of pride couldn’t stand it. The fact that an initiate had had him on the ropes.

So why hadn’t you been found out yet??? The question had run in your mind over and over as you undid the bindings on your forearms, listening to the mindless chatter and the sound of slamming metal around you.

You leaned your head back against the lockers, thinking about how just above your head in your own little nook was your bandanna and one. Odd. Shoe.

Initiates were usually given two pairs when they first joined Dauntless, but you had lost your spare in an unfortunate weapons training accident involving a shredder. Luckily Danny had given you a pair of his shoes to wear, but they were two sizes two big and were hard to move in.

Sighing as you slipped them off and rubbing your sore feet you watched as the last of your cohort trickled out towards dinner. Sick of getting blisters you decided to walk barefoot to the mess hall.

The cold concrete was soothing on your blistered soles as the slaps of your heels echoed in the nearly empty halls. You trudged along in your dark grey cargo pants and an even darker racerback singlet which complemented your cocoa-colored skin, grateful for the small gust of cool wind that hit your aching shoulders.

This was Elle’s first mistake.

Tucking stray wisps of hair back into your high bun you rubbed your exposed neck, grateful that you had tied it up after a particularly grueling training bout with Danny.

This was Elle’s second mistake.

The exhaustion made you careless as you managed to brazenly and loudly stalk right past an open door to a Dauntless Leader breakroom. A room that had been occupied by a certain champion who's head had turned at the odd slapping of feet, and who's eyes now followed you down the corridor.

This was Elle’s third mistake.

Time almost slowed as Eric saw you pass by. The small breakroom's kitchen was fitted right next to the door, which meant Eric had about 4 good seconds to get a good look at you.

Any normal person would think it was just a initiate walking by with training bruises. But not a fighter. Not Eric.

As the Dauntless leader turned his head sideways he saw what could be a burnmark from the mat that night on your shoulderblade. He saw the redness on your tanned forearms from where he had grappled with you. 

And then he saw the blisters on your bare feet. Probably. From wearing. The wrong. Shoes.

Bingo.

"Shoes not comfortable, initiate?"

Elle jumped when she heard the voice behind her, but was too late to run.

You felt a rough tug that pulled you stumbling into the room with only one other person and only one way out. The lion's den. You gulped audibly as you came face to face once again with your challenger.

"Just a normal Dauntless training day sir Eric leader sir." You answered, trying not to instinctively grip your arms, in an effort to hide the redness from your grappling the night before.

Just stay calm Elle, you got this.

"That’s a pity." Eric shrugged moving closer and leaning his shoulder against the wall while crossing his arms. Although he sounded casual enough his gaze was nothing but predatory as he looked down at your feet then back to your eyes.

"Thought you might be MISSING ONE."

Awfuckfuckfuck.

You instantly tried to make a break for it but he towered over you as he blocked your only hope of escape and locked it behind him. 

You regretted getting so close as he stalked towards you, while you matched his steps in reverse like some twisted dance.

"You lost on purpose."

"You won the match sir." You squeaked.

"That wasn’t a win. You threw the fight." You stumbled as you backed into a chair and Eric slammed his hand on the table in front of it. "I don’t like fucking pity."

"It wasn’t a pity win I swear I just didn’t wanna get thrown out sir Eric sir." You blabbered.

"Cut the sir crap."

"Okay Mr Eric!” Your pitch getting higher and higher with each syllable.

The King of the Brawl said nothing as his eyes slowly traveled down your neck, your torso, your legs and then back up to your eyes, unflinching as he walked around to your side of the table.

"Well then, why don’t we settle the score right here right now?"

You blinked thrice, wondering why his first act wasn’t to throw you off the chasm or out of Dauntless altogether. But you realized that if his pride was even half as big as the rest of him, what mattered to him was the redemption. The win.

"You win, you get to keep your place as an initiate. You lose... well..." Eric shrugged, knowing he didn’t have to continue since you knew damn well.

"Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.” You bravely snarked.

“You don’t.” Eric said darkly.

“So what kinda match we talking. I can do wrestling, uh... uh knife throwing um- I can do judo- um- sir?"

Eric had managed to get between your legs and press you up against the small table. You had tried to keep your breath even as his muscled frame trapped you, rambling as you did whenever you were nervous. Or frazzled. Or both.

"Can’t you tell?" The Dauntless leader all but growled in your ear.

"The match has already started snookums.”

You then felt something hard rub against your trouser thigh and your eyes rolled back. Hoooooh fuck.

You’d always been one act first think later, and as you felt his package grow between your legs you instinctively threw your hands around his neck and started to grind against him, earning you a greedy smirk before capturing his lips with your own.

The kiss was hungry. Urgent. Filled with need on either side as you both battled for dominance. For sating. For submission as you were just as bad as each other, melding into each other.

Your back slammed against the wall and you didn’t even flinch as you quickly undid your cargo pants as Eric held you up. As soon as they were undone Eric quickly shoved them down, still keeping an iron grip on your plush thighs. 

You felt him bite down your neck as you fought to undo his own, finally freeing his dick from its confines and you felt him bite harder as you stroked him, feeling his girth hot and heavy in your hands. 

“So this is what a Dauntless Leader’s dick is like?” You tried to sound sassy but your mouth was already watering at the thought of having Eric’s cock inside you.

“Nah, this is all me.” Eric remarked as he lined you up and started to push inside you.

“Much better than that wimpy initiate dick don’t you think?” The King growled as he watched your mouth agape in pleasure as you tried to hold the back of his head in support.

“Initiate dick aint shit.” You yelped.

Eric laughed darkly as he started to fuck you against the wall. His loud grunts and your moans were the only thing that filled the silence. He held you up with ease as he held your thighs in his hands, your own switching aimlessly from his neck to his forearms as you bounced on his cock. He watched as he pulled in and out of your warmth, mesmerized by how well you could take him.

“Initiate pussy however...”

He growled as you pulled his short hair so he had too look up to meet your eyes. “I think you mean ‘Champion’ Pussy.” 

Eric briefly remembered why he was doing this, but all motivation was lost when your pussy walls started tightening then releasing around his dick. “Shit” he seethed as he hunched over your shoulder.

“That’s it Eric, feel that?” You panted, grinning as you felt your Dauntless leader grow inside you, rolling your hips. “That’s all me.”

He cursed and threw his head back as he started thrusting into you at a mad pace, seeking his own release. You deftly held on as you managed to still match his thrusts, locking your legs around his hips. You then brought his head to your own and bit his hear, causing him to jerk as he hissed at the pain mixed with pleasure. 

You felt your own walls tightening around his thick member as your eyes rolled back, and unable to hold himself back any longer Eric roared as he came into you, the creaming of your walls enough to bring you to your own high. You screamed as you rode him through his final thrusts, making sure your pussy was filled to the brim with his cum. 

In a dazed silence you panted as Eric did the same, resting his head on your shoulder as he slowly pulled out of you, still managing to hold you up against the wall with ease.

“...So did I win?”

But before you could get an answer you yelped as Eric roughly yanked your pants back up. And before you had a chance to think he had already thrown you over his shoulder and started carrying you down the hall.

You were still very much dazed from your high, but not dazed enough to ignore where this might be going. You started kicking and thrashing, looking for any way to wrench yourself free and away from impending doom.

“Idiot I’m not throwing you from the fucking chasm so stop wriggling.”

“Where the fuck are you taking me then??”

“My place.”

You tentatively complied and stopped squirming. You noticed that the way to Eric’s apartment wasn’t the normal way towards Dauntless leadership, and actually led you through corridors you had never seen before.

Shuffling so you could watch Eric as he unlocked his door you remembered he was King of the Brawl.

"So um, what did ya use your wish for?"

Eric let a smirk grace the corner of his lips as he carried you inside and threw you so that your back hit a mattress, and when you spread your arms you realized it was a very large mattress. You looked up at Eric with wide eyes as he removed his vest and shirt so he stood at the foot of the bed with a bare chest and hungry eyes.

"I asked for a room with a double bed."

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Taglist: @therealcalicali @themusingofagothicsoul @tomarisela @mbaku-babygirl @laketaj24 @myboyfriendgiriboy @every-jai @draconicuchiha @selina122 @chocolatemetalprincess @tamed--chaos (lemme know if you wanna be added)

[treasure-my-aurora]

Total Eclipse of the Heart

♥ Jungkook/Taehyung

♣ Summary:  Taehyung decide to pay a visit to his best friend in the middle of the day. Too bad that they both just can't say no to the temptation, despite the fact that every touch of the other is a burnmark of a love that might run deeper than they think.

♠ Rated: T

♦ Words: 3220

This is the final part of the Stuck on your Heart series. Read part one here.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

If the nights were bad- with Jeon Jungkook climbing into his bed when the night were darkest just before dawn, much like an incubus, completed with the glint in his eyes and a smug smirk on his lips, while the older only gave him a small knowing glance whether he got awaken from sleep or working silently at the desk on the other side of his room- the days were even worse. Or, well, worse in the sense of Taehyung’s constant turmoil of the feelings he’s had for years now. Worse in the sense of Jungkook not being able to control his wandering fingertips over his thighs underneath a blanket whenever they were next to each other to have some “family time” and actually sat down and watched a movie, all of them. Worse in the sense of Jungkook not being able to stop himself from sneaking up behind him and place a sinful, quiet kiss just underneath his ear while he sits and paints by his desk, or while he’s just standing in the kitchen, looking out through the glass door on the other side of the room with a cup of tea in his hands, just watching the trees sway from the wind on the other side of the terrace, or when he’s deep in thought after having finished another book that described a philosopher and his way of thinking, one that he’d accidentally stumbled over, and wanted to know more about, in his search of having things to do during the never ending days locked inside their apartment. He sighed, tore his eyes away from the news site he currently scrolled through on his phone and looked over at his constant assailant with a small, pondering pout. He had joined Jungkook in his room, much more for his calm and familiar presence than the actual want of his body next to him, and the younger had barely glanced over at him before Taehyung flopped himself over the freshly laundered bed sheets. Jungkook was currently slaying monster after monster in a game that, at least from the lack of pixels and proper, modern game mechanics, looked almost as old as Jungkook himself; one that Taehyung never bothered to remember the name off and now- when he was constantly bored out of his mind from just going back and forth between his bed, his desk, the fridge and, when he feels guilty about eating one too many cookies, to the small workout area next to their washers at the back with weights, a treadmill and a yoga mat- lowkey wishes that he was more invested with video games in general. “Hyung?” a voice woke him up from his daydreaming and Jungkook must’ve either turned his head and noticed him staring without Taehyung realising or his friend simply knew him well enough to feel the eyes that had been staring at him for a good minute or two. Taehyung cursed under his breath, locked his phone before laying down on the bed properly and tried to suppress the urgent need to bury his face in the pillow when he could smell the faint fragrance of the younger’s cologne and shampoo. Jungkook’s gaze never wavered from the game and an impatience started to simmer through the older’s bloodstream when he noticed that the “hyung” never got a follow up question. “Mm?” he hummed back and placed his arms underneath the pillow before stretching out his body, back arching up slightly from the bed and a grimace instantly broke out on his face when his muscles protested and a small ache in his head blinded his vision for a couple of seconds. “Did you come here only to tease me, or what?” A very stereotypical ‘GAME OVER’ covered the screen while the gamer himself currently sat turned to him, arms folded across his chest, the hood of his sweatshirt still covering the unruly bed hair on his head and legs stretched out far underneath him. Taehyung paused, froze, almost like he’d been busted with revelling in the younger’s company a bit too much, with the smell of him surrounding his senses and covering him in a warm, secure blanket that he’d been draping over himself for years now. “What? I can’t enjoy just hanging out with you without an ulterior motive anymore?” he asked, maybe a bit too harshly than intended, because Jungkook frowned, like he was taken aback by the words before he shrugged, unfolded his hands and started to fiddle with the zipper on his hoodie instead. “Sorry, I just… I guess I’m not used to us hanging out so much anymore. I- I shouldn’t have-” He wet his lips and looked nothing like the Jungkook that Taehyung was used to seeing anymore. He looked… nervous and almost ashamed. Not in the cute “aegyo acting” kind of way that he still showed off to the cameras sometimes, but just truthfully like he was unsure of himself. “No- I uh” Taehyung started but didn’t know what he actually wanted to say. Because Jungkook was right. They didn’t hang out like they usually did. None of them hung out like they usually did. They were grown-ups now. Jin was going to be 28 in a few months for goodness sake. They all had their separate hobbies, separate preferences on how to spend their free time and though they still lived under the same roof, days could go by without them actually being there at the same time, because they worked under different schedules, with endorsements contracts or other projects on the side. They really only saw each other once at the end of the week, when they took one evening off to come together over a meal and talked about the days that had gone by. Things were different now though, when the world is the way it is, and all tours had been cancelled and they’d been forced to spend more time with each other than normally. Not that they minded, it just felt… strange… to be placed in the same tight space again- just like they lived before they could afford the apartment that they currently lived in. “Sorry” Taehyung gave him a small smile that felt more like a grimace, “I can leave. I didn’t mean to bother you” He started to sit up in an attempt to escape the awkward tension that suddenly swelled up between them like a geyser of hot water, but the younger closed the distance between them with three quick steps. There was no body contact yet, no obstruction of the clear path that Taehyung had to walk to get out of Jungkook’s space but he still stayed and leaned back against his hands to catch himself from falling back against the bed, with one leg off over the edge. “Stay” Jungkook said and even though he tried to make it sound like a command, one that shouldn’t be broken, there was still a hint of desperation, of yearning and helplessness in his voice, “You need to stay” “I need to stay?” Taehyung repeated with a small smile tugging on his lips and tried and failed to keep in the yelp that broke from his lips when the weak expression on the younger's face changed in an instant. One eyebrow rose and something dark shadowed his face while he placed one leg on the bed. He moved slowly, like a predator that just seized his prey, circling the other into submission but Taehyung was, unlike a prey would be, over his head with excitement. Jungkook placed his other leg on the bed as well, hands moving slowly across the black fabric of his sweatpants clad thigh in a possessive action to keep him in place. But the older only smiled, delighted with the way that Jungkook’s dark eyes seemed to burrow deep into his own while he gently separated his legs for the younger to slot between. This tireless dance of him being much more submissive than he actually needed and allow Jungkook to devour him with hands that quickly moved from his legs to his lower stomach as soon as his hips pressed down on the older’s inner thighs, was so addictingly sweet, so mind numbingly obsessing that he couldn’t help but let out a small groan of approval. The younger wasn’t more dominant than himself, wasn’t more needy in his desire, or craved more of the egoistical want to demand more of the other. He was never too harsh, never mean in his greedy behaviour and both of them knew that this was simply the way they both preferred. Taehyung didn’t mind settling back onto the bed while he watched fireworks flare up in the younger’s eyes when he laid himself on display for him. Didn’t mind the way that Jungkook let out a muffled growl when he wet his lips before leaning up and claiming his lips in his longing for them to join in pleasure. Didn’t mind the way that Jungkook pressed him back hard against the mattress in his need for more, or the way that the younger sneaked his tongue between his lips with a wet hum, fingers wrapping around left wrist to keep him in place while they both knew that he didn’t need to hold him locked as hard as he did- because Taehyung was right where he wanted to be. The older let his right hand wander, up the white tee his friend wore underneath the hoodie, fingertips gracing the abs on his stomach, the hardness of his chest. He knew every button to press, knew how he should touch the other and make him lose it completely. But somehow, in the middle of Jungkook’s lips trailing down from the corner of his lips to his jaw, gently nibbling where his pulse was beating heavily underneath, a feeling of dread overcame him like a bucket of ice cold water had just been splashed on his head. “Too much?” Jungkook asked in a hushed whisper when he felt the older freeze and Taehyung reminded himself to breathe. Are they really doing this again? Just playing around with each other. He’d told himself after the last time that things were getting out of control. That the feeling’s he’s had for years now was getting to his head too much. That the sex should just stop, because he knew the instant they were done, he or the younger immediately needed to leave. There was never a post-sex cuddle, never a hug or a kiss afterwards. Never an “I love you” or an “I’ll stay” or simply a “Fuck it, this is how I feel, and I’ve felt it for so long that it’s suffocating me” “No, I’m fine” he mumbled and tried to pull himself out of the feeling. Tried to enjoy the feeling of Jungkook's fingertips gracing over his chest, his nipples, the dip of his collarbones. But only a few seconds passed until the younger let out a frustrated sigh, “What is it?” he asked and leaned back, body looming over his older friend while Taehyung met his eyes with a frown, “We should stop” he said before he could stop himself. “Stop what?” Jungkook repeated and leaned back ever more, like his body was retreating when he realized that the spell that usually fell over them disappeared. “Stop this, stop doing what we’re doing, stop the mindless-” he sighed, empty and shallow, almost in disbelief of what he was saying, “stupid fucking thing we’re doing” Jungkook swallowed and raised his hands from Taehyung’s body like he’d burned himself. “Why- why this? Just out of nowhere? We’ve been doing this for five years and now all of a sudden you just- what? Don’t want me anymore?” “No-” Jungkook’s eyes shifted and he started to pull himself away from the older while Taehyung scrambled up in a sitting position instead, feeling way too exposed while still laying down, “I mean yes- Of course I still want you. It’s just. The others know. They’ve known for a long time now and there isn’t a reason why we shouldn’t be ok and- but… I still feel. I dunno. I feel-” he fought his own brain from doing an accidental word-vomit, tried to find the words that would make sense. Tried to explain that he couldn’t be with the younger because it tore him apart every time, they finished the little game they were currently playing, and everything just went back to normal. That it hurt like he’d been shot every time Jungkook touched him in a way that normal friends just don’t do, despite the skinship and the fact that they were as close as two people could possibly be without them being a couple. That the feeling of his kisses when no one else was around felt like he could’ve just as easily plunged a knife into his gut and twisted so hard that Taehyung couldn’t breathe. The man in front of him, who’s eyes had glinted like a star filled night just moments ago, looked at him with hurt and confusion now and he feared that this was it. Seven years of friendship, five of them while sharing the same bed, same things, same best friend and each other’s bodies. “So what? This is the end now, is it?” Jungkook asked, still with a voice that couldn’t mask his shock. One that wavered slightly with pain and Taehyung wanted to look away, wanted to ignore the feeling of needles prickling his skin. “I… I think so” the older mumbled and wet his lips while Jungkook just shook his head, a smile tugging on his lips like he half expected Taehyung to just turn around and say ‘Surprise, got you good, didn’t I?’ “That’s bullshit” he blurted out and crossed his arms across his chest again, “I’m not gonna allow you to throw away one of the best things in my life” Taehyung must’ve given him a look because he quickly averted his eyes and a stubborn flush coloured his ears while he stood his ground and almost physically squared up, ”You’re like the best thing that has happened to me. Us... We are the best thing. The moments we share. Do you really think that I just used you for my own needs all this time?” The older got taken aback by the confrontation. Did he? Had there ever been a moment during these past five years where he only thought that he was a tool for the younger to use? To bend and break and put together with his hands every time? Well, he did. Every time, but he never felt used. Never felt dirty with what they were doing. “Wha- what do you mean?” he asked and Jungkook rolled his eyes before combing his hand through his hair in one frustrated movement, “I refuse to let you go. I don’t know if this sudden revelation of yours is because… because you’ve met someone else that you want to spend more time with-” he sighed and shrugged excessively, “Maybe someone you want to be serious with or- whatever. I just…” he sighed and averted his gaze again, “I don’t want you to go” Thoughts were flying in Taehyung’s head like humming bees. On one hand, he prided himself- the sex must be good enough that even ‘I-can-get-whoever-I-want’ Jungkook wanted to stay- but he also felt bothered, confused. “Why me?” he managed to ask. A question that he’d asked before. One that he couldn’t help but wanting an answer on yet again. Jungkook chuckled this time and when he met Taehyung’s eyes again, the older could feel the same pain stabbing at his chest. “Really? Again? It’s always been you. Even after those models I hooked up with last year, that actor who begged me to stay…” Taehyung rolled his eyes. Typical Jungkook to praise him with how many people he’d turned down to be with him instead. “So that’s why you want me then, huh?” he asked and couldn’t help but feel agitated, “Because you know that I’m always here, waiting for you. That you know that no one else touches me like you do, that you are the only one who’s ever made me feel. That you are the one I’ve ever truly l-” he grew silent, eyes locked on the wrinkled sheets underneath him while he quickly clamped his mouth shut. That was close. Way too close. There was a pause. A long one before the younger spoke up again, “Guess we never need anyone else then. That’s how I feel about you as well” he said bluntly and shrugged while Taehyung’s breath hitched. “Feel?” he asked and Jungkook gave him a small smile while he extended his hand and took a hold of his older friend’s. “I love you too” he said, like the words were as easy flowing as water. Taehyung choked up and clenched the younger’s hand in his. He was warmth itself. Comforting, everlastingly amazing and fuck, if Taehyung wasn’t the luckiest man alive, “That’s what you wanted to say, right? That I’m the one you’ve ever truly loved?” Jungkook asked, a hint of worry in his voice while he watched his friend intently. “Yes. I- I love you” it felt like a stone had lifted from his shoulders and the older looked up to meet his friend’s eyes, “I’ve loved you for so long it’s unbelievable” A small gasp escaped the other’s lips while he threw his arms around him and he hoped that he’d never get used to Jungkook’s kisses when they pressed hard against his own. That the younger kept surprising him and made him feel lightheaded like a middle-schooler that just got smooched by the cutest kid in class. The bed felt comforting against his back now and the weight of the younger pressed him down in a way that felt different but so much better than before. There wasn’t anything holding them back now, nothing that could disturb the swirl of falling down, down, down. Lower and lower until they couldn’t breathe. Jungkook’s hands travelled over his body, hooking onto his shirt and lifted it up to reveal a soft thin stomach with toned muscles from dancing instead of working out. The younger’s sweatshirt was discarded and soon enough his fingertips traced the sliver of light skin at his hips. He was just about to help discard the white tee as well when a loud cough made them both froze. Jimin stood in the doorpost with a grin on his face, “Knew that you both had it you” and was met by identical frowns before Jungkook took one of his spare pillows and threw it in the general direction of the door. A fake cackling could be heard while their friend closed the door behind him, and Taehyung had to stifle a chuckle behind his hand while Jungkook sighed. “Where were we?” he asked and combed some curly hair from the oldest forehead. “You said that you loved me… oh, and I’m pretty sure you were planning to fuck me senseless” he smirked and was met by a small amused snort, “Is that so?” Jungkook asked, mischief in his voice, a wildfire in his eyes and like so many times before, the game was on.

[j-esbian]

night terrors and sweet dreams - chp. 3

chp. 2

on ao3

His heart was racing.

Nino was hanging out with Adrien in his room, and they had decided to dust off his old Dance Dance Revolution machine. They were in hot competition with each other, but when they started the third round, Nino hit his groove.

His feet flew, tapping with a mind of their own and hitting each move perfectly. The game’s announcer cheered him on.

“Good! Nice! Great!”

Nino’s concentration didn’t falter, even as the song’s tempo picked up. He slid and jumped with ease, still matching the song’s pace.

It kept speeding up, until Nino could no longer decipher the words; just a tinny, frenetic ringing, but still his legs moved, flailing wildly. It was as if they, too, were plugged into the game, simply going and going and going.

He tried to stop.

“Excellent! Wow! Perfect!” the announcer exclaimed.

He couldn’t stand still. His legs were out of his control, now, and they felt more like a blur of motion than anything else. Nino lunged forward and gripped tightly onto the rail, trying to slow himself down, but it was no use.

“Great job! Wow!”

“Adrien!” he called out, turning to his friend for assistance. But he wasn’t there anymore, and Nino was dancing alone.

It didn’t even feel like it could be called dancing anymore. The screen kept telling him he was hitting all the steps, but he just felt something whirling around beneath him, like a leg tornado.

He wished he could lose his balance and fall over and stop this, instead of feeling like a spinning top, being jostled around on the whims of… whatever was controlling his bottom half.

Then, suddenly, he careened over the game’s safety rail, and realized it was actually the guardrail of a viewing platform. He fell off the balcony and landed squarely in a chair.

Mme. Mendeleiev leaned across the desk, towering over him and twisting the dial to the Bunsen burner in front of him. The flame rose higher, licking and catching at the brim of his hat, but when he tried to cry out in alarm, no sound came from his mouth.

As he looked at his teacher in horror, she returned his gaze with her usual flat stare. The fire simmered along the edge of his cap. He jolted up and tried to scramble away.

At first, it didn’t spread, and it wasn’t hot, but he feared it all the same, and when he reached up to pat the fire out, it stuck to his fingers like syrup. He tried to yell, but Mme. Mendeleiev reached over and wrapped her fingers around his wrist and his voice failed him once again.

“ What are you doing? ” he tried to say. Her pointed fingernails pierced into his arm, and the more he tried to speak, the larger the flames grew, crawling up his arms and down his ears. It didn’t burn; wherever the fire touched, he felt the same sharp pain from his teacher’s grip.

Nino couldn’t keep from crying out, and the pain continued to spread. Flames spilled through his open mouth and down his throat, and he felt like he was swallowing needles.

Then Mme. Mendeleiev staggered back, as if hit, and through the haze of smoke and pain, Nino saw two figures rush in from the hallway. Her grip loosened, and he broke away, his vision clearing.

Adrien and Chat Noir stood in the doorway, framed dramatically by the hallway behind them, which was flooded with light. Adrien drew his fencing foil, and Chat Noir his baton, and the two of them rushed to Nino’s side. With a few swift strikes from their weapons that Nino barely caught, Mme. Mendeleiev was sent flying through the door, into the blinding white light beyond.

Adrien removed Nino’s cap, extinguishing it with his bare hands. Chat smoothed Nino’s hair back from his forehead, blowing out the rest of the flames as easily as a birthday candle.

“Are you okay?” Chat asked, bringing his hands back around to cradle his cheeks.

Nino’s throat still ached, and just he nodded, leaning into Chat’s hands and closing his eyes. Adrien placed his hat gently back on his head, and stayed there for a lingering moment, wrapping his arms loosely around Nino’s shoulders and leaning his head against the side of Nino’s.

Nino felt lips brush his forehead, but when he opened his eyes, both boys stood where they had been and were staring at him in gentle concern. Then, Chat looped his arm around Nino’s waist, and Adrien grabbed his other hand and led them through the back door of the chemistry classroom.

They entered into the locker room, which was cool and dim and deserted, and sat down. Chat straddled the bench, and Nino leaned against him. Adrien sat facing them, and took Nino’s hands, rubbing gently at the burnmarks. He kissed Nino’s palms, and the burns rubbed off as easily as smoke stains.

Chat rubbed Nino’s sides and rested his head on his shoulder. His hair tickled Nino’s ear, but he endured it, feeling the rumbling purr bubbling in Chat’s chest and resting comfortably against it. He vaguely heard someone knocking on a distant door; quietly, at first, but then it grew louder and more insistent.

His mother slammed open his bedroom door. “Nino! You’re still asleep?”

He groaned and stretched, levering himself up onto his elbows. “What time is it?” he rasped.

“Far past the time you should have gotten up,” she clucked. “Come on, up, up, up!” She flicked the lights on and off a few times, before disappearing back out the door.

Nino watched Hanna slip out the open door, and spat out a few stray cat hairs that had managed to work their way into his mouth. Sweat coated his back and he threw the covers off, staggering upright. He rifled around for the first clean clothes he could find and pulled them on, before fumbling for his phone to check the time. It was dead.

“Shit,” he said, just as his father walked past, straightening his tie.

“Language!”

Nino rolled his eyes and got his hat from the back of his door. “Sorry,” he muttered. He grabbed his bookbag and hurried off down the hallway.

He snagged a breakfast bar from the kitchen as he passed through, and headed for his shoes by the door.

“Nino!” his mother called. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

He squinted at her, then patted his face. “Right. Glasses.”

He doubled back to get them, and saw his phone charger still plugged in. It snaked along the wall and disappeared behind his bed. He briefly considered reaching back to try to get it, but his mother called again, more insistently, and he thought better of it; it would only make him late. He could just borrow from someone at school.

His heart was racing.

Adrien was playing basketball, one-on-one against Kim. His eyes were glued to the ground, even as his opponent loomed above him, and Adrien danced away, bobbing and weaving and dribbling.

Kim was there at every turn, easily keeping up with Adrien’s footwork. He snatched the ball away. Adrien tried to look up and snarl at him, but found himself physically unable to focus on his face.

His gaze skirted around it, unable to train his eyes any higher than the logo on Kim’s sweatshirt, which seemed to grow until his took over his entire vision, blinding him momentarily. And then he blinked, and Kim was on the other side of the court, dunking the ball victoriously.

He tried to call foul, but Kim’s voice rose over his own, taunting him. “Aw, what’s wrong, pretty boy? It’s not fair? Why don’t you run and tell your dad? I’m sure he can fix everything for you.”

Adrien tried to protest that no, it wasn’t like that, but there are rules to the game, and you can’t just cheat , but suddenly Chloé was there, too, backing him up and threatening to call her own father, no matter how much he tried to tell her I appreciate it, Chlo, but you’re really not helping, I can handle this on my own, it’s not that big of a deal, just leave it--

Amidst the squabbling, Adrien noticed a gruesome cackling, growing from a murmur until it roared in his ears. Though he’d never heard the man’s voice, he recognized it immediately.

Hawk Moth.

Kim and Chloé continued to bicker, heedless of the danger. Adrien wondered if they could even hear it, or if the laughter was all in his head. Then he saw it coming for him: a pitch black butterfly, dark and mottled like an oilslick, headed straight for him. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that by ignoring it, it might pass him by.

Something collided with him, and he staggered back, his eyes snapping open in alarm. Ladybug had barrelled into him, pushing him out of the akuma’s way, and he watched in horror as it disappeared between her shoulder blades.

She screamed, but it cut off abruptly; a purple cloud descended over her face, just for a brief moment, and her eyes flashed bright orange.

She grinned wickedly at him. “Hello, Adrien.”

He tried to back up, to get away and run off and find a place to transform, but his feet were frozen to the ground, and when he looked down at his hands, the ring wasn’t there. Panicked, he looked towards Ladybug, wondering if she had managed to slip it off of him, but her hands were empty.

She tapped his nose a few times to bring his attention back up to her face. “Now, I know you and Chat Noir are close,” she said brightly. “Can you tell me where I might find him?”

She looked completely normal, still, except for her eyes. He found himself hypnotized, unable to look away from her irises, which shifted in color from bright greens and yellows and oranges like poison.

“A-dri-en,” she sang. “I asked you a question.”

His hands shook, and he clasped them together behind his back, but before he could say anything, his feet lifted off the ground, and someone held him in a strong grip, and he was lifted away.

His feet touched back down, and they were on a rooftop somewhere. Though it had been early afternoon in the courtyard at school, it was twilight now, and as he crouched behind a chimney with his savior, he had to squint through the dim light to make out who it was.

Adrien heard the familiar click of his baton collapsing, and a pair of warm brown eyes looked him over in concern. The other boy spoke to him, but it sounded garbled, like they were underwater.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

Adrien nodded. Chat Noir didn’t seem convinced, and put his hand against Adrien’s forehead, like he was checking for a fever. Suddenly, Adrien realized who he was.

“Nino?”

Chat smirked. “Here to save your ass again,” he remarked. He poked his head around the side of the chimney and turned back to Adrien. “Coast’s clear.”

Adrien's hands were around his waist before he could say anything more. He pushed him back against the wall, and kissed him hard. Chat's mouth curled underneath his lips, and then it slid away.

Adrien felt the gentle pricking of claws through his shirt as Chat held him closer and pressed his open mouth against his neck. Adrien leaned forward, pressing his knee against the wall between Chat's legs. He reached up and ran his hand through Chat's short, dark hair, and ran his fingers across the nape of his neck.

Chat pulled his head back and looked at Adrien, panting slightly, and Adrien surged forward, bringing their lips together again and again--

The shrill beeping of Adrien's alarm startled him to his senses. He was spread-eagle in bed, and his mouth was dry and dusty. Plagg stirred irritably, rolling over and groaning.

Adrien smacked his mouth a few times and silenced his alarm. He realized he was shaking, even as he went through his morning routine and gradually woke up.

He was still jittery as he settled into school, and it was a relief that Nino was nowhere to be found. He skidded into his seat mere seconds before the bell rang, giving them no time to talk.

But Mme. Bustier was having computer trouble, and while Myléne rushed to the front to help her, Nino leaned over and muttered, “Hey, dude, can I borrow your phone charger?”

“Hmm?” Adrien muttered. “Oh, yeah.” His hand shook slightly as he held it out to Nino.

“You okay?” Nino asked. He ducked underneath the desk to plug the cord in, and looked up at Adrien in wide-eyed concern.

Adrien swallowed hard. “Yeah, I just, uh, I think my blood sugar’s low or something? Probably?”

Nino dove into his bag, saying, “Well, you’re in luck. I overslept, so I’ve got a granola bar, if you want it.” He offered it to Adrien, who pushed it back at him.

“No, Nino, you need to eat. I’m fine.”

Nino shrugged and unwrapped it, taking a bite. “Suit yourself. Hey, do you have any water? I feel like I deepthroated a cactus.” Adrien stared at him in mild horror, but he just raised his eyebrows and took another bite.

Adrien shook his hands out and reached down for the bottle of water in his bag, and steadily held it out to his best friend.

It was just a dream, after all.

[wordfighter]

All I want for Christmas is you

Summary: Lalli hasn't heard from Emil for three years, but then the whole crew gets invited to Siv and Torbjörn's place to celebrate yule. Lalli's only wish is to meet Emil again. Type: Short story/fanfiction Words: 1770 Category: Stand Still Stay Silent Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Rating: Teen Characters: Lalli & Emil Warnings: Loneliness, burnmarks, christmas gifts

Read it here or at ff.net

Lalli couldn't sleep. As a night scout he was pretty much nocturnal, but that wasn't the only reason he was unable to fall asleep this night. Tomorrow was yule and for the first time in years he would meet the people he had travelled into the Silent World with. He, Onni and Tuuri had arrived the day before, found their hotel and pretty much gone to sleep right away. Lalli could almost hear the two sleeping in the other room.

Lalli rolled onto his back, looked at the ceiling. The paint was exfoliating in places and the room looked pretty worn, but they hadn't had much to choose from.Everyone in the whole world seemed to have decided to celebrate yule in Mora this year.

Eight years, Lalli thought, so much has changed since then.

Lalli still worked as a night scout, his life hadn't changed much. He had let his hair grow out, kept it in a pony tail. Onni told him he looked more and more like their grandmother for every day, Lalli wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

Onni on the other hand, he had taken a more offensive role in the military, he had found a wife, he had gotten two kids. Twins. Lalli wrinkled his nose when he thought of them. He didn't like them. Tuuri told him he had to get used to it. She was expecting as well. Lalli didn't know who the father was and Tuuri didn't care to tell him.

Reynir still showed up in his sanctuary from time to time, but had learned to stay out until he was invited. In return Lalli had started inviting him more and more often. Reynir had told him about the academy in Iceland, had worked in the Norwegian army for a year and then moved back to the farm.

Lalli didn't know what Sigrun and Mikkel had been up to, he hadn't heard anything from them. Emil on the other hand... They had kept in touch a little, Emil had sent him so many letters, Lalli had answered a few of them. He had gone back to the cleansers, had gotten promoted, gotten fired, gotten hired again and gotten promoted once more. Then, three years ago, the letters had stopped coming. Lalli had sent almost a hundred letters the first few months, trying to get in touch with him again, and after a while gotten a single answer.

Forget me.

Lalli couldn't forget. Emil had been the first person who tried to befriend him on his terms, he couldn't just let that go. But there was little he could do from Finland and in the end they had fallen out of touch. And then, one month ago, Tuuri had told him they were going to Sweden for yule, to meet up with the old crew.

”Will Emil be there?” ”I... uh... I don't know. I guess so, since Torbjörn and Siv is arranging it.”

Tuuri had showed him on a map where they were supposed to go the next day and he had memorized the map, just like he always did. He looked at the watch, kicked off his cover and sat up. Today was the first day since forever he'd get to see Emil.

He got dressed, Tuuri had picked out his clothes and he stared in disbelief at the antlers she wanted him to wear. He let out a sigh and put them on, before leaving the room. The receptionist wished him a merry yule and he muttered a thank you before heading out in the freezing air. It was snowing and he almost smiled, almost choked. Emil enjoyed snow, although he enjoyed building giant bonfires to melt it even more.

The walk was short and he quietly knocked on the door, not expecting anyone to open and was surprised when it did. Siv looked older, her hair graying, and she looked confused at him. After a couple of seconds her face lit up, Lalli noticed it being more relaxed than it had been eight years ago.

”Merry yule, Lalli. You're here early.”

”I can go again.”

”Where?”

Lalli shrugged and Siv smiled, stepped aside to let him in. He kicked off his shoes and she led him into the living room. She gestured towards the sofa, but he sank down in a corner instead, looked around the room. It was filled with decorations, some that seemed as old as time and some that seemed to have been made recently. Siv looked at him.

”The others won't be here for at least six hours, is that okay?”

Lalli nodded, blushed and looked at her.

”You don't mind?”

”I don't mind. I won't even ask why. Emil's not here though.”

”He's coming?”

Hope flared up in Lalli's chest and he was certain Siv could see it in his face.

”He said he'd try.”

The hope went out just as quick as it had flared up and Lalli nodded.

”Thanks.”

Siv sat down in the sofa, picked up a book and Lalli looked at her, listened to the sounds of the building. It was calmer than the last time he had been there, somehow older. At seven people started moving in the house. Three people ran into the living room and Lalli straightened up, looked at the oldest of the three.

He looked just like Emil had done the last time Lalli saw him. Almost shoulder lenght, golden hair, well cared for. A little pudgy, but not in a bad way, more in a way that suited him. The person turned towards him and Lalli sank back down. The eyes weren't right. Emil's eyes was softer, a lighter shade of blue.

”I didn't think anyone would be here already. You're one of the Finns, right?”

Lalli nodded and the boy smiled.

”Lalli, right? Cousin Emil used to talk so much about you.”

Used to. Lalli looked away. Maybe Emil had forgotten him, done what Lalli could not.

”No opening the gifts yet”, Siv called from the kitchen and the the teenagers stopped, looked at each other and darted to the kitchen. Lalli stayed in the living room. At nine Siv came back out and put a bowl of porrige next to him, but he ignored it. She asked if he wanted something else, but he shook his head and she returned to her family. The Three Terrors, all a lot calmer now than they had been eight years ago, returned to the living room to play games while Siv and Torbjörn finished preparing for the party.

At eleven Tuuri and Onni arrived. Lalli listened as they talked with Siv and Torbjörn, listened as Onni and The Terrible Threesome teased each other, heard Onni telling the others that Reynir would be unable to come. Iceland had increased security again. Lalli didn't care, it wasn't Reynir he was hoping to meet. An hour later Sigrun and Mikkel arrived as well, both looking a lot older than Lalli thought they would.

Sigrun's red hair was starting to turn white, she had scars on her face and her legs from battles. Mikkel's face was wrinkly, tired, and he limped, supported himself with a cane as he walked. Both of them tried to talk to Lalli, but he couldn't focus on the the conversations, his eyes and ears constantly focusing on the door. The pile with presents grew beside him and Tuuri tried to get him to open them, but he couldn't.

”Are you in one of your moods again? I thought you had grown out of them.”

Lalli couldn't answer. She left his side again, he heard her talk to Mikkel about the baby that was due in a month. She looked happy talking about it, pulled her fingers through her hair, patted her stomach. Mikkel smiled during the conversation, but his eyes clouded over slightly. Lalli looked curiously at the older man, but didn't move, didn't say anything. At six Mikkel and Sigrun left again, both invited to another party with some of Mikkel's old colleagues. Tuuri and Onni stayed, ate together with the others and Lalli clenched his hands, looked at the floor.

He wasn't coming. Maybe he had heard that Lalli would be there, maybe that's why he stayed away.

”Hey.”

A bright red box came into Lalli's view and he looked up from the floor. He was thinner, his hair longer and half of his face was pink, wrinkles, damaged, and his eyes uncertain, soft. Lalli would recognise those eyes anywhere.

”Hey...”

He accepted the box, put it together with the other unopened gifts. Emil's hand was still stretched out towards him and Lalli noticed that it was as burned as his face. Lalli accepted the hand, saw Emil's face scrunch up as he pulled Lalli to his feet. Lalli felt the antlers slip off his head but didn't care since Emil's hand didn't let go of his, and he lifted his other hand, let it trace along Emil's damaged cheek.

”Your face...”

”I got caught in a fire.”

Emil looked away and Lalli pulled his fingers through Emil's hair. Emil smiled sadly.

”It hides my face easier like this.”

”I missed you. I couldn't forget you.”

Emil's hand grabbed Lalli's, pulled it down, squeezed it.

”I didn't want anyone to see me like this.”

”I don't care.”

Emil looked towards the ceiling, at the wall above Lalli.

”Mistletoe”, he whispered and Lalli smiled slightly.

”Yeah...”

Emil let go of Lalli's hands, took a step forward and Lalli instinctively took a step back but lifted his hands, rested them on Emil's back, pulled him closer. Emil's fingers buried into Lalli's hair and Lalli lifted one of his hands, buried it in Emil's golden locks, felt one of Emil's hands trace his back. Warm breath hit Lalli's lips, soft lips connected to his and Lalli's knees felt weak.

Too soon Emil pulled away, his face red. Lalli let go of him, looked at his feet, breathed heavily and then Emil pulled him closer again, leaned his forehead against Lalli's.

”I missed you.”

”I missed you too. Did you really think I could forget?”

”I hoped you would. Can you forgive my selfishness?”

Lalli grabbed his cheek, placed a quick kiss on his lips.

”There's nothing to forgive. Just don't do it again.”

”I won't.”

Emil sat down on the floor and Lalli sank down next to him, picked up the red box and leaned against Emil's shoulder.

”I didn't get anything for you...”

Emil placed a kiss on Lalli's head, wrapped an arm around you.

��Seeing you was the only gift I wanted.”

[caediteosa]

❝ The insolence, the arrogance the execrable table manners! ❞ caradoc lmao

            “The audacity, the discourteousness, the sheer gall!” She countered, hissing, onyx gaze shifting from her plate to his eyes with the quickness of a viper, as she dropped her spoon into the soup bowl with a loud clatter, causing hot liquid to splatter all over the table, him and her borrowed clothes. She didn’t care. 

           “You have quite the mouth on you----as if you have any right to judge. The two of you dragged me here virtually by the hair, refuse to properly heal my wounds.” She was forced to move with the fragility of a woman nearly four times her age, as they’d only bandaged her and hadn’t bothered with spell nor potion to speed up her recovery. Or ease her pain. “And then you comment when I struggle trying to eat whatever horrid dish to set in front of me, while I can hardly breathe through the ache?” And it wasn’t as if they had not added to the pain-----in their futile attempts to get her to talk. There was a burnmark just above her breasts from Aramis’ wand. She could feel it sting as she breathed.

           Of course she knew why this was the way they operated----it was the only part of it all that she understood. They wanted to keep her weak in case she would try escaping, otherwise. Would seize the opportunity both wouldn’t pay attention and run, like a thief in the night. But she could barely cross the room from the couch to the kitchen table in her state. Smart. And even if she were in a better condition, they had her wand, and even wandless magic could only get her so far. She was basically helpless, and it irked her.

           But they kept her here instead of handing her over to Aurors, or even the rest of the Order. Peculiar. It was the part she couldn’t quite understand. The part she wanted to figure out----perhaps only to see if it could be used against them.

           She was surprised enough they fed her at all, but perhaps they thought they could woo her into talking. Oh yes, play pretend to be the savior, the good-willed friend, this is all for the greater good, won’t you cooperate, won’t you help us? Didn’t they know that nothing would make her betray her cause? “Where’s the other----my dear mister Pryce, where is he? He is much better company than you are.” She tilted her head, almost as if to ask him if he would prove her wrong. “Is he off to conjure up an excuse as to why you both are absent? People must wonder...”

alice meme | selectively accepting | @ourpyrrhicvictory