#i am gripping you by the shoulders i cannot stress enough how charming it is

[lbhslefttiddie]

youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either. and is also still, sort of, a sex flower

from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way

[uniquevocashark]

Part 1 of something

Content warnings for:

Domestic abuse and cheating

Reader is married to Miranda and it sucks, alcina makes a terrible decision to seduce the reader.

I cannot stress enough that you should not read this if you are uncomfortable/averse to any warning or to dark fics in particular. This is not a happy story. Minors please do not interact

"You look better in the rubies." Miranda said, her hands on your neck.

You brought the emerald earring up, and turned your head slightly to see how it dangled. "These were a gift, I can't not wear them."

She huffed but you didn't say anything, keeping your face calm and picking up the ruby earrings. They were good ones, she was right about that, but you thought the emeralds were a nicer contrast to the blue gown she had insisted you wear. You looked at your tired face in the mirror and put the ruby earrings away.

The necklace was the one you always wore, because before you could even look at your collection Miranda was securing it around your throat. It was her family crest, which was also the logo for her company, wrought in silver and attached to a chain of gold.

You sighed through your nose and kept your voice falsely chipper, "My hands do work, Miranda."

"Don't be snappy."

"I am not being snappy," you replied calmly, adjusting the charm so it sat better on your neck, "I am remaining pleasant like you wanted."

She scowled and you let the silence hang. Despite her attitude, and yours really, she rained at your back, her hands where your neck met your shoulders. She fussed over your appearance, adjusting the chain, the way the earring sat, your hair. You stood at her insistence and she pulled on the dress until it sat exactly as she wanted it. Miranda was taller than you, so you didn't need to look her in the face when she did so.

Then you sat back down and idly fiddled with your lipstick.

"You don't need it." Miranda started, reaching over and plucking it from your hands. You grabbed her hand before she could leave.

"Is your current toy going to be here tonight?" Her hand stilled and you smiled flatly at her through the mirror.

She pulled herself free and stalked away.

You gripped the edge of the dresser tightly, your smile cracking into a frown that threatened to mist your eyes over. The door swung open. "Miranda."

You turned your head to look at her; her grip was white knuckled around the door handle and her body tense. She had crushed your lipstick in her hand and the colour dripped onto your shared floor. She looked at you, her gaze harsh but not at you. At least not entirely. "Yes, she will be."

You looked away and covered your mouth before a noise could escape you. "I don't want her in my bed."

She had seized the door when you could look up again, the wood creaking beneath her hand, "it is our bed."

"You've sullied it enough," you said and your voice wobbled, "I don't care that you don't love me but at least give me a little dignity, for fuck sake."

The door slammed and you jumped but Miranda was not gone when you looked up. She seized your waist in her clean hand and pushed you up onto your dresser; your jewellery bit into your ass and your dress embroidery twinkled in protest. Miranda kissed you roughly, all teeth until she got inside your mouth that yielded, desperate for any warmth, and then it was all tongue and tears that dribbled down your cheeks.

She pressed into you and you pulled away, gasping. Her hand squeezed your waist, "Don't you dare, ever say something like that to me again."

You panted, bewildered, and she pressed her body into yours. You couldn't help how your body twitched pleasurably at the contact, aching in all the ways you wished it wouldn't. You pressed your face into the mirror to get away but she chased you all the same. She always did.

You closed your eyes and braced yourself. "Alright."

Her hand clawed your hip and you knew you'd have bruises again that night, "I'm trying to make things bearable."

Your laugh was more a loud choke, "I'm locked up inside all day and you fuck every woman that graces your eyesight. Don't tell me that's supposed to be bearable."

Her hand moved to your neck and it went gentle, as it always did, "I am the only thing," she said, her face pressing into your neck, "The only thing keeping you off the street. No one will take you if you leave me, nor would anyone save me."

You could think of a person or two that would help her. "I know." You said instead.

Miranda breathed shakily and then she was crying too. You moved your hand, gently, and put it on her back. "I'm sorry," she said and you didn't believe it like the twenty other sorrys she'd given you that week alone, "This is just the way it is."

"I know, Miranda." You lied and held her gently while she composed herself.

...

Miranda dressed in black, as she always did. And you sat on her arm with a pleasant smile, sparkling from all directions, outfitted in the clear money of your wife's success. That was all you were really here for, at least until the strong alcohol was set free. Then you would retire, Miranda would keep her woman of the week with her, and then you would stay away until the early hours wondering what had gone so wrong in life that this is what you were left with.

But that was for later. For now you smiled and played your part and everyone pretended that you two were the happy couple you presented yourselves as. It didn't matter that Miranda had deflowered almost everyone in this room during your marriage; you never mentioned it and when they hinted you pretended you knew and it left the evening running smoothly.

For all her flaws, she always only danced with you at parties. It was her most hypocritical quality manifesting; she was free to do as she pleases, when she pleases, but you... weren't. She was allowed to get jealous, possessive even, and you were supposed to take it all with a smile when she nearly killed people over even daring to think about approaching you.

You've resigned yourself to a lonely night when Miranda disappears off after a dance, staying near the fireplace because it's freezing and the dress has a low décolleté.

"The model herself." Someone purrs and you turn to find an enormous woman behind you, her hand briefly touching your waist.

"I beg your pardon?"

She chuckled, "Forgive me. I was referring to the lovely oil painting above this fireplace."

You toyed with your hands, and brushed a finger against your blazing cheeks. Had you overheated without realising it? "Oh, yes. It was a gift from a very dear family friend."

She gestured at the painting with her glass, "The use of colour and type of brushstroke is really quite exquisite. It perfectly captures your likeness, though you are a bit sickly by the framing of the shading."

You blinked, a bit lost, "Yes, it was painted just before my wedding."

"You must be a good friend of Miranda's to warrant such a high honour."

Your mood dipped but you kept your smile on your face, "I see. I don't stand for mockery, Miss."

She blinked at you and cooked her head, "Alcina. Alcina Dimitrescu. How am I mocking you, Miss?"

"I'm Miranda's wife. This is our," you stressed the word with a light sigh, "house."

"Oh," her brows went up, "Forgive me, Madame. I've been abroad for years and last I heard Miranda was still a well known libertine."

"Thats still true," You murmured uncomfortably, when you heard a cork pop. "It seems the festivities have truly begun, Miss Dimitrescu."

Alcina smiled gently and leaned into you, her voice a pleasant whisper, "Indeed. Will you be staying?"

"No, I," you stopped and realised only now that you had both huddled closer in a corner, leaning against each other like conspirators. Your cheeks blazed again, and you put a hand on your cheek and looked away. "Um."

You only realised now that she was wearing a stark white dress, with black rose embroidery. It was unbelievably tight, and you could see every flex of her bicep as she brought her glass up for a swig. It felt so strange to acknowledge but from her laugh you realised you were staring.

"No?" She said mirthfully, and the veneer of confused noble was gone completely, "Are you not the Lady of the house?"

Alcina looked at your cheeks and you realised that the heat of them was not at all from the fire. "I don't drink." You answered weakly and found that she had drawn you in again.

"No? Miranda's orders I take it?"

You smarted at the word but didn't contradict her, "She prefers I don't, yes."

"She still sleeps around, doesn't she?"

Your throat closed and you whispered. "She does."

"What a fool," Alcina murmured, and her hand grazed yours, "To ignore such a beautiful devoted woman."

Miranda cleared her throat and you jumped and nearly hit the wall. Alcina grinned at the interruption, pulling away like a sleek squid through water.

"Miranda!" She greeted jovially, "Time has yet to touch you, I see."

"And you've aged gracefully as well, Alcina," She said tartly, "I see you've met my wife."

"Oh yes," she said, her arm coming around you and resting on your back, "Lovely woman. I'm surprised you snagged someone so sensible."

That seemed complimentary, according to the little flutter in your stomach. Miranda merely frowned and pulled you to her side. You were grateful, suddenly, for her familiar cold presence. Alcina's grin at the display made your cheeks blaze again, and your lower half, you realised, was aching.

"My wife should get to bed," Miranda was saying, her nails digging in, "She doesn't drink. An easily upset constitution."

"So I see," Alcina smirked at you, then lightly grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, "Goodnight, my Lady."

"Yes," you stuttered, "and to you as well."

And then you were being whisked through the crowd.

...

"I can't believe you," Miranda had hissed into your ear, her body pressing yours into the bed, "You caused a scene!"

You found that her touch was much more pleasant than you were used to, "I did?"

She scoffed and go off of you and you sat up like you were dazed.

"We only talked." You said lightly.

"In the corner, out of view."

"Don't be silly, it was well within view of the other guests."

"And I should just believe you?"

"You were there!"

She sighed through her nose and stalked away. You noticed lipstick prints on the back of her collar and your sudden ache eased completely. You touched your own neck unbidden and she glared when she caught you. "We'll talk later." She growled and left.

For the next hour you knitted, listless. You could hear the celebration from downstairs, loud as a cannon, and were sure that the steps approaching the room from the hallway was Miranda and her toy.

It was not.

"This room is private." You said when Alcina entered the room.

"Oh," she said, her cheeks splotchy pink, "I thought this was the guest room."

"You lie better when sober."

She laughed lowly, and you realised suddenly that she was, in fact, not drunk. The patches of pink her lipstick. "I'm not drunk, dear."

That voice, again, made your cheeks heat. "How did you get in here?"

"It seemed rather odd to me that Miranda would lock you away." The key jangled in her hand, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"It doesn't matter." You replied focusing on your messy knitting.

You heard her scoff, "You're not serious are you?"

You didn't answer.

"She's in the other room," Alcina started, leaning her enormous frame against the wall, one arm above her head, "She wasn't even dressed when she walked in with her giggling little pet."

"I don't need details."

"So you know."

"As everyone else does, yes. What do you want?"

"I should be asking you." She purred. You stabbed yourself in the finger accidentally.

You held your finger up and she took that as a sign, approaching your bed and kneeling in front of you. She pulled out a handkerchief and covered your finger delicately. Her hands were much bigger than yours, and warm too, and you could feel the rough calluses through the thin handkerchief.

You breathed out loudly and Alcina smiled. She was much closer than she had been earlier, and far bolder. Your hands rested on your lap and she leaned in closer. She was so big, you thought idly, her head up to your shoulder even while kneeling and her lips were cherry red.

You leaned in slowly, unsure. And Alcina Dimitrescu unclipped your necklace and kissed you.

[wh0reyp0tter]

Chapter Three: Not My Treasure

Y/N Y/L/N is chosen as one of the champions in the Triwizard Tournament with one of her best friends, Harry Potter. Along with the struggles of being one of the champions, she also has to navigate her feelings for her best friend, Hermione Granger. But, as far as Y/N knows, Hermione fancies Krum.

Includes: Angst, pining, swearing, wlw, bi!reader (mentions of flirting with men), smut, name-calling, Krum hating, fighting, physical violence, fighting, mentions of injuries, and flirting

_______________________________________________________________

In the morning I’m woken up by the sun shining in through the blinds. I blinky softly as I sit up and look around. Hermione’s bed is empty and neatly made. She never leaves without waking me up. I stand up and rub my head softly as I groan. I look on my bedside table to see a container of the familiar liquid. I drink it as my headache instantly goes away ‘Thank you, Hermione,’ I think to myself. I change into a baggy powder blue sweater and black leggings before I pull my socks and trainers on and go downstairs. 

“Look who’s finally joined us!” Ron announces as I sit beside him. Harry sits across the table next to Hermione. 

“Piss off,” I grunt as I drink a bit of my pumpkin juice. I grab a chocolate croissant and take a bite into it. 

“What crawled up your arse and died?” Harry asked. 

“Ask Hermione,” I laugh bitterly. 

“I did nothing wrong,” she protests. 

“You lectured me because I was trying to shag a fit girl!” I exclaim.

“Right Y/N, wanna say that a bit louder? I don’t think Myrtle heard you,” Ron says as he nudges my arm. 

“Tell her to stay out of my decisions,” I scoff. 

“I’m just looking out for you!” Hermone argues. 

“How is screaming at a girl I’m in the middle of hooking up with ‘looking out for me’?” I ask. 

“You don’t know her! Maybe she’s a bad person!” she replies. 

“Godric ‘Mione. Y/N was trying to shag her. Not marry her! No one bloody cares about the morality of the people they hook up with,” Ron laughs. 

“Who was it?” Harry asks. 

“Avery Hatch,” I smirk. Harry’s jaw drops and so does Ron’s. 

“Hermione, you did not fuck up Y/N’s chances to sleep with Avery Hatch,” Ron says in shock. 

“Yeah! Mates are supposed to help each other shag fit people! Not scare the fit people off!” Harry agrees. 

“Right?” I yell as I throw my hands up. Ron shakes his head as he takes a bite of his sausage. 

“Not cool, ‘Mione. Not cool,” Ron says. Hermione scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

“Avery isn’t even that fit,” she mumbles. 

“Are we talking about the same person? Long brown hair, big blue eyes, big tits, and a nice arse?” Ron asks. 

“I didn’t see much of her, Y/N was on top of her,” Hermione scoffs. Ron grins as he holds his fist up for a fist bump. I smirk as I return it. “You guys are repulsive.” 

“Don’t worry ‘Mione. I still think you’re the prettiest girl in the world,” I wink. Hermione rolls her eyes as she flips me off. “Woah woah woah! No need to be so vulgar there, princess.” 

“Piss off,” Hermione mumbles. I smile as I blow her a kiss. 

“You love me,” I grin. 

“Sadly,” she huffs. 

“So, does that mean you’re done being mad at me?” I ask. 

“As long as you’re done bringing random girls to our dorm,” Hermine replies. 

“So if I introduce them to you first, it’s okay?” I joke. Hermione shoots me a look as I hold my hands up. “I’m joking, I’m taking the piss,” I say. 

I sit in the library as my eyes scan over the piece of paper in front of me. ‘How can I listen to the message if it’s so loud,’ I think to myself. ‘What muffles sound? Walls, fabric, dirt, water. Water! How can I submerge myself and the egg. A sink isn’t going to work. And we don’t have tubs in the bathrooms. The Black Lake!’ I stand up and run to my dorm before I retrieve the golden egg and change into short shorts and a tank top. I look around before remembering everyone is at dinner. I quickly cast a protection spell on myself before I dive in with the egg in my grasp. I undo the top of the egg before the light shines from it brightly. 

“Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. And while you're searching, ponder this; we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look. And to recover what we took, but past an hour, the prospect's black. Too late, it's gone, it won't come back,” the eggs said quietly. I listen to it once more before I climb out and cast a drying spell. I run back to my dorm room as I shove the door open. I pull the chair out from my desk quickly as I take out parchment and a quill. I write what the egg says as I read over it. 

“Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground,” I read softly. “What the bloody hell does that mean? What can not sing above ground?” I say out loud. I pull out a book on Magical Creatures as I search for a creature that can’t live above ground. The only ones that we have access to at Hogwarts are Grindylows, Merpeople, and the giant squid. I jot those three species down as I read the next bit. “And while you're searching, ponder this; we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look.” ‘An hour? How am I supposed to stay under for an hour!’ I think. ‘What are they possibly taking that I’d miss that much?’ I make a note to look at spells and jinxes that allow me to breath underwater.

 “And to recover what we took, but past an hour, the prospect's black. Too late, it's gone, it won't come back,” I read to myself. ‘So, if I don’t find my thing, I’ll never get it back?’ My eyes widen as I make another note. “Bloody hell.” I hit my head off the desk in frustration before reading over the riddle again. “The only body of water big enough is the Black Lake. I could be faced with Merpeople, Grindylows, or the Giant Squid. The Giant Squid will be the least of my worries. Bloody Grindylows.” I roll my eyes.

 “Whatever is under there. I have an hour to retrieve it, or it's gone forever.” I groan as I toss my quill down before I lean my head in my hands. I hear my door get pushed open, I don’t bother to look up. 

“You alright?” Hermione’s voice asks. 

“M’fine ‘Mione,” I grunt. She walks over to me as she sets her hand on my shoulder. 

“What’s got you stressed?” She says as she rubs my back. 

“This bloody riddle! It says something special is going to get taken from me. What the bloody hell is going to be taken that’s so important I need to dive into the bloody Black Lake,” I say angrily as I look at the egg. Hermione sighs as she leans into me. 

“You’ll get it, you’re brilliant,” she smiles. I roll my eyes with a smile as I wrap my arm around her waist. 

“What would I do without you?” I hum. 

“Die, fail all your courses, be so incredibly lonely,” Hermione smiles. I tug her into my lap as she squeals. I bury my face into her neck as she giggles. “Y/N!” She whines. 

“You’re warm,” I say against her skin. I dug my fingers into her sides as she shrieks. 

“That tickles! Y/N! Stop,” she laughs loudly. 

“Hmmm, I don’t think I will,” I grin as I continue to tickle her. 

“Stop! Stop! Please,” she whines. 

“I’ll stop if you admit I’m the best person in your life, and the sexiest,” I add.

“I can’t lie!” She grins. 

“That’s it,” I say as I tickle her more. 

“No! No! I’m sorry!” She giggles loudly. Hermione squirms as she tries to get out of my grip. “Fine! Fine! Y/N is the best and sexiest person in my life!” She shrieks between giggles. I smile to myself as I stop tickling her and wrap my arms around her waist. 

“See, simple as that, babe,” I laugh. Hermione shakes her head and her arms wrap around my neck. 

“Have you figured out the task?” She hums as she looks at the paper in front of me. 

“I’ve solved some things. Now I just have to figure out how to breath under water for an hour,” I groan. My head falls to her shoulder as I feel her soft fingers run through my hair. 

“You could use the Bubble-Head charm, Gillyweed, or transfigure yourself into something that can breath underwater,” Hermione replies. 

“How long does Gillyweed last?” I ask. 

“I have no idea, you’d be better off asking Nev about that,” she hums. Hermione begins braiding my hair. I nod as I look at her. 

“What if I transfigure myself into a fish!” I exclaim. 

“And how do you plan on holding your wand?” Hermione asks. 

“Good question,” I say quietly. Hermione smiles at me as she rubs my head. 

“You’ll figure it out, Angel,” she says. 

“I feel like the Bubble-Head charm is the safest bet,” I say. 

“Then go with that,” she says softly. 

“You’re the best,” I smile. She offers me a small smile as she leans her head on my chest. 

“Just helping my best friend,” Hermione replies. ‘Best friend.’ Repeats in my head. I take a deep breath before I shake my head quickly as I give her a small smile.

“I’m so grateful for you,” I say quietly. 

“And I, you, sweetheart,” she replies. I yawn softly as I stretch my arms over 

my head.  “You should get some rest, Y/N/N. It’s late.” Hermione stands up as she stretches. 

“You’re right. Tomorrow is the next task,” I huff. “You can go change first, I have to clean this up.” I gesture to the array of mess on my desk. Hermione nods as she moves to grab her pajamas out of her dresser. I begin picking up the crumpled pieces of paper and tossing them into the pin. I put back all the blank parchment before setting my quill in the case. I pick up my wand and wave it over my cup as it fills with water. I lean against my desk as I take a sip of the liquid. Hermione walks out of the bathroom with a heap of clothes in her arms. I look her up and down as I see her wearing a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt. “Look at you!” Hermione blushes as she flips me off. 

“Go change you git,” she says as she tosses her clothes into the basket. 

“As you wish, princess,” I smile as I take a drink of my water before I set it on my desk. I grab a pair of shorts and a sports bra. I walk into the bathroom as I shrug off my robes and replace them with my pajamas. I walk out as I toss them into the basket with Hermione’s. I yawn as I blow out the candle sitting on my desk. 

“Night, Y/N/N,” Hermione says softly. 

“Goodnight, Angel,” I say. I climb into my bed before I close my eyes. ‘You’re only friends. That’s all you’ll ever be,’ I think to myself. I squeeze my eyes shut as I shake my head. I pull my blankets up to my chin as I fall asleep. 

I feel someone poke my cheek as I smack their hand away. “Fuck off! It’s Sunday,” I groan. 

“Get up,” a voice replies. 

“No,” I say with my eyes still closed. I hear a scoff as my blankets get pulled off me. I hear a screech as my blanket gets thrown at me. 

“Where are your fucking clothes?” The person exclaims. I open my eyes to see Fred and George standing above me. 

“Hm, it’s almost like I’m sleeping in my own dorm!”  I scoff as I stand up and scratch my head. 

“You have three hours before they need you down at the dock! Get up, put clothes on so we can eat!” Fred says as he shoves me towards the bathroom. I roll  my eyes before I grab jeans and a t-shirt. I go into the bathroom as I throw it on and walk out. I pull on my shoes before I follow the twins out to the Great Hall. 

“Morning,” I grumble as I plop myself beside Fred. 

“Morning,” Hermione hums, not looking up from her book. I grab a chocolate chip scone as I take a bite. 

“Ready for the task, young Harold?” I ask looking at him. Harry looks up at me as he swallows his food. 

“As ready as I can be,” he huffs. I nod in agreement as I feel a tap on the shoulder. I turn to see Avery standing behind me. “Hello there, gorgeous.” I smirk. 

“Hi Y/N,” Avery blushes. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure,” I say as I turn around, facing her, and lean on the table. 

“I just wanted to wish you luck today,” she says softly. “I’ll be rooting for you.” 

“Thank you, doll. I’ll see you after the task, yeah?” I ask. Avery’s face heats up as she nods. I give her a grin as she scurries off to her spot further down the table. I turn back to look at my friends. The boys are staring at me in awe as Hermione glares down at her book. 

“No bloody way,” Ron says in amazement. 

“Take notes boys,” I laugh as I look between them. 

“Avery Hatch just said she was rooting for you!” George exclaims. 

“How’d you get so lucky?” Harry asks. 

“Just talked to her the other night and she obviously liked what she heard,” I smirk. I hear Hermione scoff before she speaks. 

“You lot definitely were not talking,” she says. The twins look at me with wide eyes as they each high five me. 

“Merlin, Y/N is getting laid more than we are,” Fred scoffs. I shook him a wink before I finished off my scone. 

“I’m going to the library,” Hermione says as she stands abruptly. 

“H, what-” I begin. I’m cut off by her walking out. I go to stand before Ron and Harry stop me. 

“You finish eating, Ron and I will go. We have to find something for the task anyway,” Harry says. I nod softly as I sit back down. The boys disappear as I continue eating. After a few moments Professor McGonagall appears in front of us. 

“Good morning professor,” I say softly.

“Good morning, Miss. Y/L/N,” she smiles. “Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley. Dumbledore would like to speak to you.” I go to get up before McGonagall stops me. “Just the twins, Miss. Rosswood.” I nod as the twins follow her out of the Great Hall. I make my way out as I make my way back to my dorm. 

“Y/N! Wait!” A voice calls after me. I stop and turn to see Cedric jogging towards me. 

“Hey Ced,” I smile. 

“Hey! Are you ready for today?” He asks as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. I lean into his side before answering. 

“As ready as I can be,” I chuckle dryly. “How about you?”

“I think we’ll do great,” he grins at me. 

“I can always count on you for some light at the end of the tunnel can’t I?” I laugh. 

“Of course,” Cedric grins at me. I roll my eyes as I nudge him with my hip. 

“How long until the tournament?�� I hum. Cedric looks down at his imaginary watch before looking back at me. 

“Bout an hour I’d say,” he replies. I groan as we walk to the portrait in front of my Common Room. 

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I smile. He nods before making his way to his Common Room. “Hello,” I smile. “Have you seen Hermione?” I ask the Fat Lady.

“No, sorry dear! The last time I saw her was this morning when her, Ron, and Harry left for breakfast,” she replies. 

“It’s alright, thank you,” I smile. I tell her the password before I walk inside. I make my way to my dorm and see a pile of clothes on my bed. It’s a red and black tank top with Hogwarts’ crest on the left side. It says Y/L/N across the upper back in gold. It’s accompanied by a pair of tight black shorts. I pick the pile up and change, after I walk back out I notice a black holster like thing on my bed. I pick it up and quickly realize it’s for my wand. I wrap it around my calf as I push my wand into it. I pull a sweatshirt over my body before slipping a pair of shoes on. As I’m walking down the stairs I hear a loud booming through the castle. 

“Every champion, student, and staff member! Please make your way to the dock of the Black Lake,” Dumbledore calls. I curse under my breath as I quickly make my way out the doors and walk down the path to the Black Lake. 

“Oi! Y/L/N,” I hear a deep voice call. I turn to see Theodore Nott walking behind me. I roll my eyes as I make eye contact with him. “You’ve got a nice arse! I’d hit it once or twice. Too bad you’re a dirty little half-blood.” Theodore sends me a smirk before he looks me up and down. 

“Awe it’s alright Teddy! Judging from what I’ve heard the girls say, I’m not missing much,” I pout. I hold my pinky up before looking at it, I wiggle it at Theo as I send him a smirk. He sends me a glare before he huffs and pushes past me. I laugh to myself before I continue to the dock. I see a hoard of people standing at and on the dock. 

“Y/N! Over here!” Dean calls. He waves me over to where he’s standing with Harry, Seamus, Neville, George, and Avery. I make my way over there as everyone greets me. 

“Hey Y/N,” Avery blushes. 

“Hey sweets,” I smile. She goes to talk before Dumbledore tells us to get ready to go on. I see Avery shiver slightly as I turn to her and peel my sweatshirt off. “Here wear this, it’s my quidditch one, so as long as you don’t lose it we’re good.” There’s a chorus of ‘oooo’s as I flip the boys off. She thanks me before tugging it over her head. I kick my shoes off as I stand between Harry and Cedric. 

“Good luck you two,” Cedric smiles at us. 

“You too,” Harry and I say in unison. Harry and I look at each other as we nod. Once the buzzer sounds we all dive in. I quickly pull my wand out before casting the Bubble-Head charm. I tuck my wand back into the holder before I begin swimming again. After a few minutes of swimming I get to a clearing. As I get closer I see long pieces of vine holding things down. I see five bodies floating above the vines. The first person I make out is Hermione. I swim towards her quickly as I draw my wand. Suddenly a horde of Merpeople appear in front of me. They shake their heads as they hiss at me. ‘If Hermione wasn’t my treasure who was?’ I think to myself. I look to my side to see Fred floating next to Ron. I swim towards him quickly as I pull my wand out. 

‘Diffindo.’ I think. The vine severes as I watch Fred float slowly. I look over to see Harry do the same to Ron as Cedric swims to the surface with Cho. Suddenly Viktor appears with the head of a shark before disappearing with Hermione. ‘Mental note to make fun of him later.’ Harry moves to Fleur's little sister he tries but fails to cut the vine as Merpeople begin to tug him down by his foot. I push Ron up towards Fred as they float to the top. I cast the spell once more and cut the vine wrapped around the little girl's leg. I shove her at the two unconscious boys before swimming towards Harry. 

“Y/N! Go!” Harry screams as he gestures towards the surface. I shake my head as I watch him struggle to grab his wand. I pull mine out as I cast Stupefy at the Merpeople. They freeze and begin floating away from Harry as I reach a hand out and grab the brown-haired boy. I swim to the surface quickly as the Bubble-Head charm wears off. I hold my breath for a little longer before my head breaks through the surface of the water. I tug Harry up with me as he takes a deep breath. We both climb out as Avery and Hermione both beeline towards us. 

“You worried me you absolute twat!” Hermione shrieks as she slaps mine and Harry’s arms. Avery wraps a towel around my shoulders as we walk to the middle of the dock. Ron and Fred are sat surrounded by our friends as they hold a towel and a blanket around themselves. 

“You did bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaims as he tugs Harry and I into a hug. I smile as we both hug him back. Suddenly there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Fleur standing in front of me hugging her little sister. 

“Which of you saved Gabrielle?” She asks softly. 

“Harry,” I say. 

“Absolutely not. I tried, but Y/N saved her and then me,” Harry smiles. Fleur leans in and kisses my cheek softly. 

“Thank you so much, she wasn’t yours to save. But, you still did it!” She exclaims. 

“Well, she deserves to be saved. She’s adorable,” I smile as Gabrielle gives me a shy smile. 

“And you!” Fleur says suddenly as she looks at Ron and Fred. She moves to them quickly as she gives them each a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for helping her to the surface!” Ron nods in shock as Fred smiles.

“Anytime,” Fred replies smoothly. Fleur gives us each a hug before walking away. 

“M’never washing my face again,” Ron mutters as he cups his cheek. 

“Awe come on Ron, who are you kidding! You’ve never washed your face,” I tease as I bump my shoulder against his. He flips me off with a sarcastic smile as everyone laughs. I look at Avery as a blush coats her cheeks. She walks to me slowly before she stands in front of me. 

“I was really worried,” she says softly. “When I saw Fleur come up, then Cho with Ced, and Hermione with Viktor, then Ron with Fred and Gabrielle. I was so scared you weren’t coming up.” Avery’s eyes are trained at her feet. I bring my pointer finger to hook under her chin before I push her face to look at mine. 

“Hey,” I say softly. Her blue eyes meet my green. “I’ll be okay, Dove.” Avery’s eyes soften as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Ave, I’m soaking wet.” 

“Don’t care, I’m just happy you’re okay,” she says against my skin. I wrap my arms around her as I hold her against me. 

“I’ll always be okay,” I say softly. Avery hugs me tight before she lets me go. 

“Pinky promise me you’ll be okay,” Avery says as she holds her pinky out. I smile to myself before I wrap my pinky around hers and kiss her hand softly. 

“Pinky promise, Darling,” I reply. 

“Can I have your attention!” Dumbledore calls. Everyone turns to look at him before he continues. “The placings for this round are as follows. In last place we have Fleur Delacour, since she was unable to get her treasure. In fourth place we have Viktor Krum. In third place we have, Harry Potter, who has been awarded points for helping save a life. In second place we have Y/N Y/L/N, who not only saved her treasure, but aided in the saving of Mr. Weasley, Miss. Delacour, and Harry Potter. And in first place we have Cedric Diggory!” There’s an eruption of cheers as I smile at Cedric. 

“Good job Ced!” I exclaim. He tugs me into him as he replies. 

“Same to you Miss. Savior,” he grins. 

“Oh Merlin, that nickname isn’t sticking,” I laugh.

[13atoms]

Many Happy Returns (Count Orlo x Reader)

Request:  if your still taking requests could you do one for Orlos birthday where unsurprisingly no one else celebrates it? [Fluff, 1.3k]

*

Orlo rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he spotted you striding down the corridors towards him, a mischievous beam filling your own features.

You hitched your skirts slightly to run faster, and Orlo glanced around for anyone who might judge him for being a fool before pretending to run from you, his own shoes clattering on the hardwood floor. Important papers were clutched in his hands, stress clear in the tenseness of his shoulders, but for just a moment he laughed as you whined after him:

“Stop running!”

He turned to you with a toothy smile, his head tilted down as guards and other advisors leaving the meeting glanced his way.

“Sorry,” he laughed, as you panted a little from the chase.

You finally caught up to him, rolling your eyes as he held out an arm for you to take. The two of you were just friends, although you were hoping to flirt your way into something more, but you always found yourself charmed by the gentlemanly way he treated you.

“Are you busy?” you asked him jovially, giving a smile to a passing older lady who looked down her nose at you.

“Always.”

“Are you busy now?”

Orlo sighed lightly, and you squeezed his bicep in sympathy, his body tense as you walked side by side.

“I have half an hour, at the most. Is there something you need me for?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his pessimism, you guided him to turn from the corridor, giving him a bodily push in the right direction as he attempted to walk on towards his office.

“Not everyone is seeking to thanklessly exploit you, Orlo. Just most people.”

He gave a laugh so dry it turned to a cough, lifting his hand to his mouth and his papers along with it. You peered at them gently, spotting the scrawl of his handwriting alongside the neater letters distinctive of a printing press.

That was interesting.

“I do need your time,” you admitted, once he was recovered from his coughing fit, “though I rather hope you’ll enjoy yourself.”

He raised his eyebrows. Perhaps he thought you might be asking him to calculate your accounts. Or order your books.

“Any favour for you, and I am sure I’ll enjoy myself.”

You felt the eruption of butterflies in your stomach, a sudden silkiness to his voice as he flirted. His attempt at charm was working, you had to concede, as you tried fruitlessly to invent a suitably clever response.

Instead, you simply shot him a smile, enjoying how it made his own features light up in a mirror of your muted excitement. He was taking surer steps towards your rooms now, the two of you disentangling to scale the staircase, only for him to pull you back to his side once you had reached the correct floor of the enormous palace.

“Your apartment?” he confirmed, as the door approached.

You nodded, rushing ahead of him to stand between him and the handle. He gave you a curious look, a smile approaching the corners of his mouth as he waited for you to speak.

After a pause, just to make him wait, you flung both doors open.

“Surprise!” you cheered, savouring the look of sincere shock on Orlo’s handsome face.

He removed his glasses, blinking as he took in the changes you had made to your parlour.

There were a half-dozen matching vases of flowers decorating the space, a glorious array of colour from the local spring wildflowers. On side tables sat plates piled high with macaroons, serving trays of beautifully prepared food across your dining table, the six chairs surrounding it decorated with garlands.

In the centre of the table sat a cake. It was small, though made of the finest ingredients you could persuade the kitchen to source, your money snuck to the serving boys to make it truly the best birthday cake money could buy.

As had been your intention, Orlo was stunned. You grinned, clutching your hands together in glee as he stepped slowly inside, his gaze roaming the space over and over again.

It was nothing on the birthday celebrations thrown for more popular court members on a weekly basis, and yet he seemed to be regarding the space as though it was the most elaborate thing he’d ever seen.

You noticed voices in the corridor outside and closed the doors behind the Count, not wanting to be disturbed.

He was still staring, silent, the papers in his hand creased by his absentminded grip on them.

“Happy Birthday, Orlo,” you told him softly, appearing by his elbow.

He set his glasses and papers down blindly on an armchair, before drawing you into a bone-crushing hug. He was soft, warm, a comforting smell washing over you as he buried his face against you.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “I truly thought no one had remembered.”

Your heart broke, as you realised the reason for his astonishment. You had intended to have other guests, but as you considered each member of the court in turn, you could think of no one who would have been welcome at a celebration for the Count. Or would have wanted to show up.

“Of course I remembered,” you choked out, “how could I not?”

He shook his head against you, and you felt the tremble of his chin, the tightening of his hands against your back. You couldn’t bear to pull away, unable to face the trickle of a tear down his cheek.

“You mean the world to me,” you reminded him, “I wish I could have done more.”

Orlo shook his head again, more aggressively this time, a strong denial that you had anything to apologise for.

“Thank you.”

“You are so, incredibly, welcome.”

“I know I am not always easy, to be friends with,” he began, gulping against you.

You stifled a laugh, knowing he would not understand why you were so amused by his inability to see his own virtues.

“It is the easiest thing in the world to be friends with you,” you promised.

“I have innumerable flaws, and my reputation –”

“You are perfect,” you told him firmly, bracing your hands on the soft line of his waist to push him away, meeting his watery eyes with your own sincere stare.

As he opened his mouth to speak, his chin trembled, another tear leaving his reddened eyes.

“No one deserves to be celebrated more than you,” you insisted.

With a trembling attempt at a smile, he simply took you in, his hands on your waist. His gaze dropped to your lips, and he bit his own lip subconsciously. You caught yourself wondering what might happen, should you take one step closer to him, pull his face to yours. He would taste like the salt of tears at first, you imagined, and his full lips against yours the culmination of months of delicious flirting and pining. All those hours spent together, all those other times you wondered if he was working up the courage to kiss you… the tension finally culminating as you pulled his face to yours.

Yet he was crying, and happy enough already. So you remined in place, your shoes digging lightly into the carpet, waiting to see what Orlo would do.

As quickly as it had arrived on your lips, his attention was once again caught by the decoration and food behind you. A more certain smile graced his features, his fingers lacing together, as his eyes returned to yours. He made no attempt to conceal the affection and excitement in his gaze, and you caught yourself responding with the same sincere fondness.

You could not find it within yourself to be disappointed that he had not kissed you.

The time would come, you were sure of it.

“Thank you,” he repeated, “I cannot think of a more perfect way to spend my birthday.”

With a smile you took his arm, and lead him to the table, delighting in the knowledge this would be the first of many birthdays spent with him.

[potatosoldier]

Are you still there? / Part 2 /

“Dick, you dog!”, the man says with a grin so mischievous that it makes a bystander nervous. I start ticking my brain on people Dick has mentioned to me. This has to be Nix, no one else. I bite my lip nervously and stick out my hand “Sonja E. Winters”

He tilts his head smirk till intact: “Is that a way to greet an officer?” Richard beside me huffs as I quickly go to salute. “Quit teasing her Lew, and me”, he says dryly. Nixon only lets out a chuckle and now offers his hand. 

“Lewis Nixon, your chivalrous knight, but please in private, call me Lew”, once I bring my hand to his, he pulls my knuckles to his lips while never breaking eye contact. He does know that I’m his best friends wife, right?

I grin gently at the mans shameless attitude, he seemed like an amusing case. “I believe I have already found my prince charming, Lt.Nixon”, I chuckle. I can almost hear Richard rolling his eyes at this conversation. 

“That you have, it’s good to finally see the miracle that is the only vice of Richard Winters, in real life” he smirks as he walks over to his bunk. Now I can see Richard rolling his eyes. I only grin at him and straighten his tie, this might be one of the very few chances of showing him affection and I’ll take it. 

“well you do have enough vices for the both of us”, Richard snarks, but without any true malice. Nixon  only winks and looks at us, still smirking. “You see lovely Sonja, this is what it looks like when you hit a nerve. And you are his every nerve”, he continues teasing. I have to giggle at the expression my husband his throwing at his friend. A blush is rising to my cheeks with speed as I listen to his words. It feels good to know that I still am loved. Well of course I know, but well..lets say with the last couple years, one needs reassurance. 

I start unpacking my gear onto the free bunk while Richard sits on his. “When are you getting introduced to the men?”Lewis asks me when I take my books and neatly place them on my stand.

“Colonel said that I’ll be meeting the men tonight”, I start folding my red cross dress prettily and sigh. “They really can’t just give me pants?”I groan as I think of wandering around in the dress. Lewis raises an eyebrow at this and then shares a look with Richard. 

“I mean we could try to pull a few strings to get you better gear, better for your safety too, not you know, getting krauts try to sink under that skirt”, Lewis offers. I smile at him kindly in thanks. My husbands jaw sets at the mention of Germans. He needs his time getting used to me at harms way. 

“Lew, would you do that now, we still have much to discuss”, he says at his friend over his shoulder. I look at my husband again. I know that expression well and right now at this time it’s the last thing I need. I can stand him shouting at me, or well could if he ever raised his voice, but I cannot stand that expression and the cold silence he that follows. 

Lewis furrows his brows. “alright, I will. Nice meeting you, Holy Mary” he says standing up and shoving a lucky strike between his lips. I smile and utter softy; “You too, Lew”

Once he is out of the door Richard puts his head in his hands. I rise slowly and take a seat next to him, but right when I touch him he recoils a little. I inhale sharply. He looks at me, studying my face, the expression never leaving his. 

“You do understand what Nix just said. You could be assaulted by Germans, and you will be right if they capture you”, he says quietly. I gulp and nod: “I am aware, and I am willing to do this, even knowing that. You and I both know that that is a risk every nurse has to take. And we do have some combat training” I explain tenderly.

I can see the stress in his eyes as he looks his hands. Slowly I sink down to the floor and kneel between his legs holding his hands. Warm chocolate meets cold sapphire as we stare at each other. “It still haunts me”, he whispers. I pull his forehead down to mine and stroke his neck soothingly. 

“I know, darling, me too”, I whisper. He looks at me again and then takes my face into his big hands. I move my hands to hold his wrists in a gentle grip. “Richard, I want to do my part, and that requires a sacrifice, as it does to you too, but please lets not sacrifice us”

Ever so slowly he brings my lips to his, for the first time in two years. The kiss is more than a kiss. It’s..it feels like an eternity of love is once again flooded into my soul. Even if my rigid husband gets embarrassed with my poetic ways. 

Once we break apart we nuzzle our noses together. “Richard, if this makes you lose focus I will not participate”, I whisper. The men needed a good officer and I knew my husband would be that for them. I was a nurse, I would have to find a different way to help if needed. Dick does not rule my decisions, but no way in this life am I going to let him worry himself out of focus and to death.

Richard just shakes his head ever so gently not taking his forehead off of mine. “I know how much this means to you, to get back the peace and start building our own little world”, he sighs. “I can do my duty without letting personal matters be a distraction”

He then gives a soft smile and presses a few butterfly soft kisses onto my lips. Our kisses: simple, pure and sweet. I smile into them and let out a soft giggle when he presses the last kiss on the tip of my nose.

"Get ready darling, change your gear on, Sobel will come get us at 1900. And beware, they are an honest bunch of troopers"

-------

I don’t remember the last time I felt this nervous. Here I was standing next to Colonel Sink and Captain Sobel. In one of the five movie theaters in Camp Mackall. Some of the soldiers whistled, some muttered angrily and well some just looked bored. I’d prefer them all to be the last one. No, Sonja, get your confidence, these men are going to get along with you, you are kind. Well, I could be kinder, but for now breathe. 

“As you all know, these times are damn rough. Everyone needs a boost in their mood and morale. That is why the United States army has chosen the Easy Company, for the program of sinking Army Nurses into the company. The main objective for that is keeping your health up and freeing more men to hold a gun instead of a syrette”, Sink spoke with clear short sentences. The whole theater started to get some mumbles, and I could see my husband very uncomfortably just staring ahead as he sat with his platoon. 

Sink glanced at me and Sobel, who was almost snarling from the look on his face. “This is Nurse Sonja Winters, and she will be assigned to the E-company to work as a medic would. From this day on she will be a part of your field exercises and will be treated with the respect she deserves. If this program fails, it will be a shame to all of you”, his tone got more and more sharp towards the end of the speech. It was clear that he didn’t want to get the shame of having unruly men under his command. 

“Enjoy your rest of the night off, for now I want you to start getting used to this, Captain Sobel will take this from now” 

Sobel steps up like a peacock preening. Alright that was just rude, Sonja, remember your manners. “We begin tomorrow at 0600, we will be focusing on battle logistics. Dismissed”, and with that he took off. Leaving me standing there all alone in front of the men. Luckily the officers come to my rescue and order the men to go to a hall of sorts. 

The hall is full of long tables, it looks like a chow hall. I walk next to Lewis as he promised to escort me. How kind of him. He smirks “So, holy Mary, how does it feel to have couple dozen pairs of eyes on your peach?”, I look at him in horror. 

“Please do sleep one eye open if you want to keep your peach uncracked”, I snap. But then widen my eyes. “Sorry”, I whisper. But in the end he snorts so happily that I can’t help but laugh also. 

He then sighs grinning. “Okay, forgive me, my comment was not very chivalrous, no more swine-like behavior”, he says raising his hands up and making a mock bow. I shake my head. This man really is something else, witty and good with words no arguing with that. 

----------

“Oi, Ms. come here!” The shout came from a comely looking fella, light hair light eyes and a twinkle in his gaze. I smile and glance at Richard and see him smiling lightly too. I walk over to the man.Next to him there is a red-headed fella and another man with big brown eyes and a lucky strike between his lips. 

“Yes private-?” I ask softly. He looks at me up and down still grinning. “Muck. Warren Muck, but call me Skip”, he offers his hand which I take giving it a firm squeeze. A handshake can tell so much of a person. “Call me Sonja”

“Me and the lads were wondering, would such a lady like yourself join us for the night and have lovely conversations”, he offers making grand gestures with his hands. I chuckle at his antics. “Yes, but as a proper married lady, I will retire to my own bed”, I say firmly but still smiling. 

The one with the cigarette clutches at his heart mockingly: “You break my heart, how lowly does thee think of me-e”, he says streching out the e, making me giggle. I offer my hand at him: “Who is thee?”

“George Luz, your humble servant. Oh and forgive me I’m supposed to be over there with the 1st platoon, but I think I prefer you”, I smile and shake my head. All these charmers. These really were a bunch. Sudden shyness taking over me, I felt very out of place. they were trying to get to know me, but still I just...well I feel very comfortable with just myself. 

“And that is Don Malarkey, Alex Penkala, Joe Toye, Bill Guarnere- he looks mean but he bites before he kills” George mock whispers at me, as he first loudly points at everyone. Bill really does look like he could bite George’s head of at the moment. or mine, he doesn’t look too happy about my presence. 

In the end they offer me a seat and I take one between Joe Toye and George, opposite of Skip. I look at Joe and offer him my hand too, he takes it and nods. He seemed like the quiet type, not that I mind, I do in the end prefer the quiet type. 

“Where are you from?”, I ask smiling. “Hughestown, Pennsylvania”, he rasps. I grin a little and lean a little closer to him in the hall to hear him over the noise.  His voice is so raspy, but he seems like the type of a man you don’t have to make repeat himself.“I’m from Lancaster, well originally not, but been living there for the last seven years” , I tell him. 

He nods then furrows his brows. “The fuck is wrong with your accent?”, he asks bluntly. 

My eyes widen a little, before I snort. “I’m half Finnish”, I answer. I appreciate him being blunt, honesty is something this world needs more of. I think he appreciates my reaction to his bluntness, since he then smiles. “So, are you a farm gal?”

And that is how I spend the rest of the night, talking to the blunt Joe Toye. 

All the love to @iilovemusic12us​ who has been my aid at this creative process!

[misterbrianmay]

Roger Taylor x Ben Hardy x Reader - Meeting the Parents

Warnings: swearing, domestic fights, angst, mentions of sex 

A/N: 1.9k words | this is my take on the Roger/Ben/Reader relationship, which I absolutely love. even though it get’s quite angsty I promise it’s all going to be alright in the end. enjoy!

You were nervous as hell. Your hands were sweating, your heart was beating at the speed of light and your throat felt dry. You were sitting in the backseat of Roger’s Alfa Romeo, giving him directions while Ben held his hand over the gear shift. Both of your boyfriends could sense your discomfort easily, but they weren’t sure what they could say to make it better. They were incredibly nervous as well, after all. Which was no wonder considering they were about to meet your parents for the first time. 

You had told them a little bit about them before, and from what they had gathered they weren’t exactly the most…open-minded people. “Conservative“, “old-fashioned“ and “stuffy“ had been some of the words that had been used. Neither of those sounded too appealing when it came to meeting the parents of the girl they were in a polyamorous relationship with…

But over the last two months more and more details about your relationship had been leaked to press, some more accurate than others. Last weekend one paparazzo had managed to get a pretty good shot of the three of you cuddling up together in the back of a restaurant, just enjoying the moment and unaware of the intruder destroying the intimacy. You had known then that you had to come clean to your parents, despite how traditional their values may were, they still played a role in your life and you wanted your lovers to meet them.  

When Roger pulled up on the driveway you had to swallow down a lump in your throat. This was it, this was the moment. 

“Are you alright back there, Y/N?“, Ben inquired. 

“Yeah, you look like you’re about to pass out“, Roger added. 

“I’m fine, boys. Really. It’s just…“, you had to stop mid-sentence to take a deep breath.

Why couldn’t they be like Ben’s parents? You had met them only a few months into your relationship and they had been extremely kind-hearted and welcoming. Surely yours would be just disappointed. God, you didn’t want to lose your boyfriends over this…

“Listen here, love“, Ben said while turning around in his seat to properly face you, “everything is going to be alright.“

“You don’t know that“, you whined, “you don’t know them like I do. There’s a huge possibility they will try to downright insult you or scare you away and I-“

“Hey now“, Roger interjected, “nothing in the whole wide world could scare us away from you. And no matter what your parents might say or do, tonight we’ll go home together, Ben will run us a bath and I will make love to the both until you can’t walk straight anymore - how’s that sound?“

“Hey“, Ben frowned, “why do I have to run the bath?“

“Because Y/N and I will want to relax, obviously“, Roger grinned, “but don’t worry, you’ll be allowed in.“

You involuntarily had to giggle at the silly man in front of you. No matter how stressed out you were or how bad your mood was, they always managed to make you laugh. Which was just one of the reasons why you loved them. 

“Okay boys“, you sighed, “I’m convinced. Now let’s get out of the car before I change my mind again.“

They left the car quicker than you had ever seen them do before. The three of you approached the door with anticipation and nerves following like a wavering cloud, and you all held hands when you stepped up to ring the bell.

The door swung open slowly, almost carefully, to give way for your mother standing in the doorway. 

“Y/N“, she stated.

“Mum“, you breathed out, now even more nervous. 

Her face was hard and she looked between you and the boys without a hint of emotion.

“Come inside“, she said equally monotone and stepped back to let you in. 

Roger and Ben let you take the lead and introduced themselves to your mother, which she acknowledged but didn’t seem to excited about. She then told you to go to the dining room, where your father was already sitting. 

“Dad“, you almost whispered, “it’s good to see you again.“

“Indeed“, he snarled, “it’s a pleasure.“ 

“Mr Y/L/N“, Ben started while holding out his hand, “my name is Ben, this is Roger. We are happy to finally get to meet you.“ 

He was putting on his most charming, gentlemanly behavior. Roger copied his movements and your dad stood up from his chair, shaking both of their hands rather reluctantly. 

“Yes…I’ve read a lot about you“, he replied shortly. 

As if one cue your mother entered the room, carrying a tray with a steaming pot of tea and what looked like different kinds of pastries. 

“Let’s discuss all that after tea, I didn’t prepare all this for nothing. Go on and sit down“, she ordered. 

You happily complied, the tension hung in the air like a thick blanket. Once you all sat down and helped yourself to some tea and cake you weren’t able to get anything down, knowing that this was just the calm before the storm. The sight of your boys helped you relax a little, especially because they usually drank coffee rather than tea and it was hilarious to see them try to make a good impression. Your father had just taken his first bite when he dropped his fork on the table. The sudden noise made you jump slightly and you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t do this“, he stated bluntly, “I simply cannot sit here, sipping tea and eating cake while those two perverts sit on my chairs in my living room and expect me to find that kind of…this…whatever to is - to find it normal.“ 

The more he spoke the more his voice rose and by the end of his rant his face had turned red from anger. 

“Dad!“, you croaked, taken aback by his outburst, “stop it!“

“Mr Y/L/N“, Ben began carefully, hating to see you so distressed, “we are here to get to know you and your wife, you just have to give us a chance to do so. All we ask is that you don’t judge our relationship before we’ve properly explained it to you.“

“Relationship?! That’s no relationship, this is sodomy! My daughter was a perfectly normal girl before you two came around and lulled her into this…this disgusting thing you’re practicing.“

By now the first tears had started to pool in your eyes and Roger had stood up from his chair. He looked furious and the only thing that stopped him from hurling something out of the window right then was your shaking hand clutching his. 

“Sodomy?“, he fumed, “Don’t you dare belittle our relationship like that! Just because you don’t get it doesn’t mean it’s wrong, old man. Welcome to the twenty-fucking-first century where people can love whoever the fuck they want-“

“What Roger wants to say“, Ben interrupted his lover’s tirade, “is that while you might not understand how this all works, we do. And it’s not just a phase, and we didn’t make this up, and - most importantly - we didn’t force your daughter into anything. I love her, Roger loves her and she loves us. Yes, it’s unconventional, but for us it’s the only way. Because ever since we’ve come to terms with our feelings - and believe me that was harder than you probably think - this is the only way for us. We are happy like this! Don’t you want your daughter to be happy?“

By now you were all standing, except for your mother who stared at her plate in a trance-like state, and your father’s gaze was fixed on Ben. 

“Happy? Don’t speak for my daughter like that, you have known her for what, a year? We“, he gestured wildly between your mother and him, “raised her! We provided for her, we installed values and morals in her-“, you couldn’t help but scoff at that, “we care for her. What she’s doing with you is just a rebellious phase, a teenaged act out of spite come late.“

“Dad, please look at me, dad“, you rasped, trying to gain as much composure as you could. You had known before that they wouldn’t react well to the three of you being together, but this? This was worse than you’d imagined, “yes, you did raise me. And yes, you showered me with your ideals of values and morals but dad, those were your ideas of how I have to live my life. Not mine. I love Roger and Ben with all my heart. And I know you don’t believe me, but I have never loved someone so much before. This is not acting out, this is not me trying to spite you. This is me having met the two most amazing people on this planet and being lucky enough to have them love me too. And they do make me happy! Every morning I wake up next to them I am so, so happy. Happy that I get to spend my life with them. So if you really, really can’t wrap your head around this then I’m sorry, but…“, you tried to sound fierce despite your voice being thick with tears, “then I guess I have nothing more to say to you.“

His face remained stoic when he looked you right into the eyes. 

“Then I guess you and your pimps better leave my house now“, he spat. 

Roger was about to lunge towards your father - and you really didn’t care if he’d do so - when Ben pulled him back with a firm grip on his shoulders. You sent a last hopeful gaze to your mother, but it was to no avail. She just continued staring at the dinner table as if it was the most interesting thing she’d seen all year. 

You left the house in a hurry, and by the time Ben opened the door for you and sat down in the backseat as well the realization about what just happened fully kicked in. Roger was fuming and in no state to drive yet, so he turned around to look at his partners.

Neither of you really knew what to say, so you just sat in silence for a few minutes. 

“You two are the most important people in my life“, you finally whispered, “and I am sorry they treated you like this…that’s…that’s not“, you started to break out into tears and Ben immediately sprung into action, petting the back of your head and letting you cry into his chest. 

“Y/N, listen to me“, Roger said intensely, “you are the love of our lives. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us. You’re our girl. And I know what just happened was hard for you, but we’re here for, always.“

“And who knows“, Ben added, “maybe they’ll come around eventually. But until that happens, and even if it never happens, you can count on us. We’ll always be here and that’s all that matters. Now let’s get home and have that bath.“

You managed a small grin and nodded. They were right. You didn’t need the approval of people who didn’t even want to understand you. The only thing that mattered were the two idiots in the car with you, arguing about who was going to cut the strawberries and who was going to lit the candles once you got home. 

As long as you had these two everything else was going to be fine. 

[inked-foundry]

Here’s a fun scene for you guys (both who want Pollux’s smugness and Minerva’s badassery). 

The gloomy, gray skies of Atlas’s harbor was an expected welcome, but not one Pollux was looking forward to. He knew the country was an industrial gold mine, but it certainly wasn’t anything aesthetically pleasing.

The air this close to the port was nearly suffocating. A son of Asche spent an abundance of time amongst nature and the clean air, so it felt like an entire factory had nestled into Pollux’s lungs.

The atmosphere would be clearer when he made it to the palace, he promised himself. He began striding down the gangplank, eager to get out of port. Not even halfway down, he noted the small crowd of Atlian royal guards with their ivory jackets, decorated swords, and small pistols.

They looked like children beside his own entourage of demigods, primarily children of Hylos and Vena. It was almost adorable. Though it did remind him to keep track of his own appearance—no use in intimidating the locals.

Folding up his wings was a given, their draconian appearance not the most comforting aspect of his appearance. He ran a quick hand through his auburn hair on the way down. Bumping into one with the palm of his hands, he briefly considered doing away with his horns.

No, not unless they were intimidated. He was making it clear he was a demigod. The entourage may have been there to assist him with the ship and carry his things about, but he was sure enough he didn’t need the extra protection. So he’d keep the horns.

Other than adjusting his ascot and dusting off the leather patches of his jacket, he was looking formal enough. But glancing an eye over the crowd, none of the nobles were anywhere to be seen. Apollo was nowhere to be found.

Pollux sighed through his nose. He wanted to be mad that they were late, but perhaps correspondence was off. Maybe they’d expected him to come to the palace for a more formal meeting. It was better than this dingy port, he supposed.

He’d made it to solid land, the cobblestone of the harbor uneven beneath his feet. There was always the low hum of deckhands and gulls crying overhead, waves lapping against hulls and business being carried out. Although it was a bit messy, Atlas’s port always had some strange sort of charm to it.

Though that charm faded swiftly as he saw a figure moving through the crowd. They didn’t don the guards’ jacket, nor the finery of a noble. The figure dressed like a ship hand in suspenders, high trousers, and boots. Drawing nearer, he noted her cropped hair and the stormy tattoos trailing down her arms.

“Hey, bub,” she called from across the terminal. She was hewn from stone and strength, each step powerful and intentional. “Do me a favor and get this ship out of my gods-damned port.”

The guards murmured amongst themselves, reaching for weapons.

Pollux pressed a finger to his chest. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Like everyone in this damn city hasn’t heard about the arrival of the Empyric ambassador for the past two weeks.” She crossed her arms before her, digging her heels between the stones. “You’re in Arc territory, bub.”

A dull memory sparked the back of Pollux’s mind. He’d heard briefly about Atlas’s underground crime world, the unfortunate side effect of such successful business. And he’d arrived into crime-dominated territory.

Pollux offered a calm smile. “I think we have a bit of a confusion here. Minerva Arc, is it?” He stepped forward and offered a hand. But she didn’t shake it. She just stared him down until it rested at its side. “I cannot say I condone your work, but I promise that I have no intentions of being a disruption.”

He could feel his entourage grow tense, various traces of magic being pulled taut like strings, ready to attack if need be. Minerva looked tough, but Pollux wasn’t going to stress. She was all mortal. Perhaps she could swing a good punch or two, but she had likely never dealt with magic.

“Disruption my ass,” Minerva scoffed. She turned her nose up. “Either you get your ass out of here, or we’re going to have a problem, bub.”

Pollux tried to keep his calm smile. “I just arrived. Perhaps I can stop by your corner of town to discuss this after my business?” He couldn’t believe he was making deals with crime bosses. There was no intention to speak with her.

Which was a shame. She seemed interesting enough, a look in her eyes that informed him that she didn’t mean to leave the port until he left.

Minerva cracked out her neck. “You asked for it.”

Pollux was sure enough that this battalion of a woman would move slower with her form. Her speed caught him off guard. Minerva came barreling at him from a curve, fist raised (plausibly a glint of metal shining from her knuckles), and aiming true.

But he stood his ground. He took a single step back to dig his heels into the ground and gestured upwards. The stones at his feet rumbled slightly as a thick vine burst between the mortar, sentient and obedient. By the flash in Minerva`s eyes, she had never seen magic of this sort.

It was terrible to say, but Pollux felt the tiniest bit smug as he gestured ahead, the vine jolting forward. He felt it wrap about her wrist like he was holding her down himself. This fight was going to be quick and clean if it kept going like this.

He called up another vine to act as a chain to Minerva’s other arm. That was until he jumped back from a sharp pain in his forearm. Glancing up, he saw the issue; Minerva had torn her current bind clean in half. She was prying off the cuff.

“I’ve been around longer than you’d like to think, bub,” Minerva called. She let the remains of the vine flutter to the ground, readjusting her stance as if she’d never been compromised. “I know you damn demigods and your tricks.” A smirk played her lips. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

And he was going to have to find a weak spot if she kept this up. “I warn you, do not attack me again. You are inadvertently casting a threat at Empyrean itself by engaging me.”

“Good,” Minerva spat. “Tell those gods to stay the hell off my turf.”

She came running up again, the guards now in a frenzy, murmuring at one another to prep their rifles and get into positions to hold her down. But Pollux just held up a hand. He could handle this.

Minerva was just an ambitious mortal. He’d teach her a bit of humility.

A moment before she could barrel right into her chest, Pollux easily sidestepped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. A bull—no matter how tough—would keep running until it stopped. It was admittedly a tad surprising to hear something screech to a halt, though.

He allowed himself to turn, just to check. She’d come to a stop just short of the edge of the stones. “Are we done here? I truly wouldn’t want anyone to get injured any further today.”

“Then get your ass off my turf,” Minerva barked. She dug her heels into the ground. Perhaps she was going to stay put?

“It is not legally your property,” Pollux reminded lackadaisically. He pulled back his sleeve to glance at his watch. Apollo and Danae should have arrived by now if they intended on coming. “Now I think we’re done here? I hope we can leave and forget this account happened. I am on my way to the palace—”

Pollux had to give her this one. He wasn’t paying attention, only catching her a split second before she crouched and swept her leg underneath his feet. And like that, he went flying. He anticipated—hoped he would be—ending up collapsed on the cold, hard stones.

But he missed. He flew farther back, and a cold sense of panic filled him as he smelled the salt in the atmosphere and a dampness spread through his coattails. Then he was underwater.

The pressure on his chest wasn’t the worst part; the simple issue was that he couldn’t fight back. He couldn’t feel a piece of solid land nearby. There were the rocks in front of him, but there was no way he could see what he was manipulating. He couldn’t lose to a mortal.

A hand grasped him by the front of the shirt and he found himself on land again, dragged across the stones on his stomach. Of course, Minerva lurked over him. She was in a crouch, both of his wrists held in a grip that was a little too close to bone-shattering.

His entourage was already prepped, the children of Vena going for their weapons and a few sparks of fire burst forth from the palms of Hylos’s children. But Pollux forced himself to shake his head. He wasn’t going to show weakness, despite the fact he was incapacitated. He could try to simply think his commands to his magic, but gestures were far more effective. At the moment, all he could make his hands do were a few twitches of the fingers.

As fruitless as this fight was, though, one thing was established: Pollux was reliant on his magic. And this woman’s fighting spoke entirely in muscle.

“Perhaps we can discuss this in a civilized manner,” Pollux suggested, struggling to sputter up the little air left in his lungs. He tried to swallow air in the most dignified way he could.

Minerva pursed his lips. “Or I could smash your head against the stones.”

“I’d rather you not,” Pollux insisted, throat dry and scratchy.

“Okay.” Minerva smirked. “Then let’s talk.”

[kookadoodle]

Jin & The Juice

PLOT: You interview a handsome man that sets your cheeks aflame - and your taste buds.

PAIRING: Seokjin x reader GENRE: fluff, Jobinterview!AU WARNINGS: swearing is caring WORDCOUNT: 3.4k A/N: inspired by the sandwich shop Joe & The Juice x

--------------------------------

It was not really a surprise when your employee quit as he had mentioned it some time prior. He had told you that he was hoping to get a fellowship at a paper he admired, and of course, he got it. Bastard, you think to yourself. You like the guy, and yes, he does deserve it, but shit. Now, you are supposed to find someone new, and you just really hate interviewing people. You hate having to prepare for it and ask questions and even hire them, since hiring someone new means having to train them, and also it means paperwork - a load of paperwork. The sign has been in the window for a few days, just sitting there and shouting your newfound problems to the world. It is not like it is unusual for businesses to be looking for new people, but you just hate that it has to be your business. All you ever wanted was to own your own little cozy sandwich shop, where things are nice and stable. You got the two first parts down, but stability is somehow quite difficult to obtain, which seems ironic to you. You, yourself, is stable enough, but employees come and go, since working at a sandwich shop is not really anyone’s dream, it turns out. Just yours. 

You run the cloth over the counter and take in the mellow vibe of the tunes. The good thing about owning a shop is that you get to choose what music is played, and luckily, your customers seem to enjoy your taste more often than not. The dimmed lighting of the shop also plays a part in it, since the atmosphere builds up around the music in such a soothing way that you cannot help but fall for its charming expression. It fits together, and it makes you very proud of how far you have come. “I’m back,” Lana says, your most trusted and reliable employee, as she returns from her break. Her smile is kind and customer-friendly, and she does not have any place to be other than here, meaning she clocks in a lot of hours and helps you out. “Good,” you say back as you check the time. It is 12 AM and you have an interview with a potential employee in ten minutes. It means you have a little time to set the things up before he gets here. You let Lana take your place at the main part of the counter as you step aside to the other end. You rarely use that end of the counter unless it is a particularly busy day, where two registers are needed at once. Today is not one of those days, which you knew when you set the time and date for the interview. You pull out your little notebook with the notes you had written down earlier. It has all the questions you are supposed to ask, and the things you have to tell him about considering the job. It is not the most difficult position he is being interviewed for, but it still has a few kinks to it that he should know if he were to get it. Suddenly, the bell by the door rings, and you look up to find the most handsome man enter your shop. He is tall and fit, and his hair is an ashy-blonde color that goes well with the dress shirt and slim black jeans he is rocking. It makes you gulp. Glancing around for a moment, you notice that you are not the only eyes set on his features. They all fail to be subtle, but the man does not seem to notice. He seems occupied with something else as he takes a look around. His gaze then falls on you, and his lips curl upwards in a gentle smile as he steps over. You then realize who he might be, and it suddenly makes you very nervous. “Hello, my name is Kim Seokjin. I am here for an interview,” he states politely, ending the sentence with a questioning finish, which suggest he is looking for guidance. His eyes are kind and inviting. “Yeah, hi. I’m Y/N, the owner,” you say and extend a professional hand. He shakes your grip accordingly and smiles a bit more at the answer he has received. “I’m sorry if I am early, I can wait…” he then says, gesturing to one of the nearby tables, but you shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m ready for you,” you smile, and you point to one of the chairs by the counter for him to take. He sits down before you with a straightened back and relaxed shoulders. It is not until now that you notice how wide they are, accentuating his shape. It makes him look strong, and you write a mental note on that. “I brought my resumé,” he says, and reaches into his bag to pull it out. He places it neatly on the counter in front of you, turning it your way for you to read. “Sounds great,” you say and lean in slightly to study it closer. His eyes are on you, and you have to fight the urge of checking where exactly his gaze has landed. You look the paper over instead and notice that he has had a few similar jobs to this one, which means he is experienced and probably knows what this kind of job entails. “You have worked at a sandwich shop before,” you state, gesturing to one of the bullets on his paper. He nods at that. “Yes, I have. It went very well, but I had to move away due to personal reasons, so I couldn’t stay,” he explains, and you listen to his every word. You do not know what to expect these personal reasons to be, but from the other points of his resumé, he seems to be quite reliable, and you like the thought of that. “How did you find the job to be? Was is stressful?” you ask, making conversation but still getting the answers you need. “It was at times, but I handle stress really well, so I wouldn’t put it as a negative part of the position,” he then says chuckling humbly, and it makes you smile at the way he chooses to answer. It seems quite clever, and you have not heard that one before. You can already tell that he is good with words, which can come in handy, when working with customers the way that you do. 

The interview continues, and you ask him questions that he answers very professionally and honestly, it seems. However, there is a problem, yet it is not with him. It is with you. You keep finding yourself wanting to stare at his plumb lips, and how they move when he talks. You keep your eyes on his, but it is extremely tempting to let them drop just a few inches down his face and study the curve of his smile. Even though, he is kind and radiates warmth, you can tell already that he is dangerous. It would be unprofessional to hire him because of his looks, but it would almost be discriminative not to give him a chance to prove himself despite it, so it has you wondering. What would be the right thing to do? The thing is that he really does seem qualified for the job, but you fear that you might be biased as a woman - hell, as a person with eyes. No one can deny how God-like his features are shaped, and he would probably form a mad blush if he could read your thoughts, which is the best part. He seems confident, but humble enough to not let it get to his head. You figure what needs to be done. “If you don’t mind, I would actually like you to do something for me,” you say, peeking his interest further. “I would like you to switch place with me and create something for me to taste, preferably something drinkable,” you explain as it comes out as a suggestion. He thinks about it for a second, and you notice how his brows subtract in a slight frown as he ponders. “Okay, sure,” he then says and gets up from his seat. You switch place with him, allowing him behind the counter. It is a probably against a few regulations, but it is the only way to truly test his skills in the area. “Do you want something in particular?” he asks as he pulls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing the veins on his arms. He washes his hands as he waits for your reply. You pull your eyes away and look back at his face, hoping he did not capture your stare. “I want you to surprise me with something new,” you say, causing him to smirk. It is as if he feels teased, and you find it a bit amusing. “Okay,” he says, and takes a step back to look around at what he has to work with. The machines are familiar to him, and the ingredients are labeled and ready for his use. He steals a glance at you for a moment, studying your features as if to figure out what you might like. “Hmm,” he lets out in almost a sigh. After a few seconds, he starts. He opens the blender and pours in a bit of milk to start, before turning over and scooping up some blueberry ice cream from the freezer and placing it into the blender as well. He then adds some sweetener and a banana for thickness, cutting it up quickly to demonstrate his experience. He seems calm and collected as his creativity runs wild in his head, thinking of ways to surprise you. You cannot wait to see what he is going to do. He turns around and grabs a pink leafed and green-tipped dragon fruit from behind him, which you anticipate to be the surprise element of his drink. He starts cutting it open and slides the fruit off the cutting board down into the blender. After adding some ice cubes as well, he starts the blender and mixes his chosen ingredients together. They shape into an icy creamy liquid, colored a rich purple from the blueberries. He takes a glass from the shelf behind him and sets it down, plopping a handful of blueberries into the bottom of it. He then pours the mix into it, filling it almost to the brim. “Where did I see…” he mumbles to himself, glancing around for something. “Ah, there it is,” he says, finding the whipped cream. He gives it a shake before pressing the lid and creating a top for his drink with the white foam. You think it is the last of it, but then he returns to the cutting board, which is out of your sight, hiding behind one of the machines. You hear the sound of the knife sliding across the wood and through something, but you are not entirely sure of what. He places down the knife and fiddles with his mystic creation as you try to read his expression. Again, he is calm and does not seem at all bothered by the test you are making him go through. Actually, he seems to be in his right element. He places the drink down before you and slides a blue straw through the cream and into the liquid. He then takes his creation and you almost stretch your neck to see what he has made. With a soft smile finally erupting on his lips he places down an elegant flower on top of the whipped cream of the drink made from the beautiful pink and green-tipped peel of the dragon fruit. You must admit that he manages to surprise you. Not with his handsome looks or wide shoulders, but with his clear skill. The drink looks simple and pretty, making you look forward to its taste. “There you go,” he says softly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. He takes a step backwards and places his hands behind his back, signaling for you to take a sip. You slide the glass closer to yourself, studying the color of it and the flower he has made as garnish. He definitely has an eye for the visual parts. You then lean in and take a sip from the straw. The drink flows up and covers your tongue with its vibrant flavors that makes you want to come back for more. Holy shit, you think to yourself. You had imagined for it to be quite bland, since dragon fruit is an almost tasteless fruit, but somehow, he has managed to bring out the flavor accentuated by the fresh blueberries that brings you back home. Sweet, but not too sweet. He looks at you intently, waiting for your words to spill. “This is really good,” you say honestly, and it makes him sigh with a bit relief. You thought that he was untouched by the situation, but apparently, he has been holding in his breath a little, waiting for his creation to be judged. You do not blame him, though. “Thank you,” he smiles. “I’m glad you like it,” he says, and his voice is slightly softened as he watches you. He takes you in and almost seems to be drowning in your features, which makes you do your best to fight back the blush that wants to emerge. You sigh, and it feels a bit shaky. “Have you made this before?” you ask, taking another sip and causing his smile to widen. “No, but I decided to take the risk. You said you wanted something new,” he says, and you nod in agreement. “Good call,” you say, and you both share a grin. You get up from your seat, and he takes it as a hint for you to switch back. He makes his way out from behind the counter and back to his original position. His eyes never leave your face, and you wonder what goes on in that head of his. “I think you did really well with this curveball I threw you. It's all I had for today, so I guess what’s next is that I review our talk and get back to you,” you state casually, but still in a professional tone. He nods understandingly at that, still watching you closely. “Okay, well, thank you for your time,” he says after a moment and shakes your hand once more. The touch almost makes your breath hitch for some reason. “And thank you,” you say back kindly, earning one last smile from him before he makes his way out of the shop. You let out a sigh as your mind registers everything that just occurred. You replay the scene in your head unintentionally, and you cannot help but feel affected by him. It is actually a bit painful, because now you have one issue to face - should you hire him or not?

------------------------------

You hold the phone in your hand as his resumé is displayed before you, lying on the desk. It has been a few days since the interview, and you feel as if you should get around to it. It is not fair to put it off, considering he probably needs the job. You did not ask, but it is rare that people apply for a job without actually needing it, so it would make sense if he does. The decision has been driving you mad as you still feel unsure about it. Every time you think about calling him up and hiring him, you feel a bit dirty and unprofessional, even if you actually think he deserves the position. He is clearly talented, and knows his way around the machines, but you cannot get over the fact that he has been occupying your mind since he left the shop. Normally, you would leave those kind of things at work, but he is different than the other applicants. He is nice and attractive, and it really creates a whole load of problems for you. However, you have decided to not let it affect you. He should not be punished for your impure thoughts of him, and you are professional enough to not let it get in the way of your job. Right? you think to yourself, but quickly push the doubt away. “Just call him,” you say to yourself, giving the last push for you to pick up the phone and dial his number. The phone rings, and you wait. It beeps, and it beeps, and you close your eyes in anticipation. You are not the one who is supposed to be nervous, yet here you are, sweating like a pig and it is only a phone call. Suddenly, he picks up. “Hello?” he says, and you clear your throat. “Kim Seokjin?” you ask politely. “Yes, this is him,” he says back. “It is Y/N from the sandwich shop,” you state, gathering yourself as you realize how ridiculous you are being. “Oh, yes. Thank you for calling,” he says, and you sense the warmth in his tone. “I’m calling to let you know that the position is yours if you still want it,” you say, causing him to chuckle at the other end. You like the sound of that. “That’s great news. I still very much want the job,” he answers, and the relief is presence in his voice. A smile spreads on your lips without you knowing. It just feels good to hear him excited this way. The talk continues as you agree on when he should start. He has a few questions that you answer, and the conversation almost feels as a simple talk between friends. He even makes a few bold jokes that has you fighting back a laugh but failing, and it has him joining in. Slowly, the topic comes to an end. “Y/N, can I ask you something else?” he then says more softly, capturing your attention completely. “Yes,” you say, thankfully not stuttering the simple word. You hear him sigh on his end, and you wonder what it might be caused by. “I don’t want to be unprofessional, but I have to be a bit blunt with you. I have thought about you a lot since our interview, and I want to know if you will allow me to ask you out on a date,” he says, sounding determined but also nervous about overstepping. His words have your mind going blank. “Y/N?” he asks gently as you do not reply at first. You clear your throat, slipping back into reality. “You want to ask me out?” you ask for clarification as if you did not hear him clearly, even though, you did. You really did. “Yes,” he answers back. “I really want to, if you’re okay with that,” he adds. You can hear that he is trying his best to be respectful as he probably knows how risky it is to ask. You should be firm and keep a definite line between employer and employee, but you cannot lie to yourself. You feel flattered, and you just really want to say yes. So, you do. “Okay,” you say back. It causes him to shuffle his phone for a bit, and you guess the answer took him by surprise. It causes you to laugh. “Okay?” he asks back, the surprise evident in his tone as he repeats your reply. “You can ask me out,” you say, earning a chuckle from him through the phone. You find yourself blushing madly, and you feel lucky that he cannot see you right now. “Good,” he then says, and you can practically hear the smile lacing his words. It might cause trouble in the future, but right now, all you can think about is the butterflies roaming in your stomach at the sweet sound of his voice. “See you at work then, Y/N,” he says as the final statement, and you smile. “See you at work,” you say back before you end the call.

[reylo-solo]

Fanfic prompt: Reylo's first kiss during a force-skype ;-)))

Thanks for the prompt! I had fun :)

Ever the Gentleman is Kylo Ren –

She wasn’t expecting to see him again so soon. She tried telling herself that she didn’t even want to see him, but she knew she was lying.

          No, she hadn’t been trying to see him, but there he was anyway. Sitting up on the clifftop, shoulders hunched as he leaned studiously forward over a pad of paper. She couldn’t tell if he was reading or not at first but as she got closer she saw his right arm twitch every now and again and she realized he was writing. Strange, she thought. No one writes anymore.

          But Kylo Ren was of the strange sort. What else had she expected, really? From their confrontations thus far she had built a moderately-sized mental file on him, where she stored all the little bits and pieces of information she could gather about him, never sharing them with anybody. She didn’t think she should tell anyone. Most of what she knew concerned his feelings and inner-most thoughts, after all. Everything seemed far too intimate to share outside of their own bond. No one else would understand.

          She stood frozen for a while, losing track of time just watching him; studying him. His broad, hardened shoulders called to her attention and she followed the soft C-shape of his spine with her eyes. She could see the tension he held in those shoulders; she had long ago learned the telltale signs of stress on the human body. He held himself so tightly enclosed; so afraid of opening up to anyone. Rey supposed she could understand that. At any sign of weakness his position as Supreme Leader would be called into question by the vultures (or at least one in particular) who believed they could do a better job. But at the end of the day it was still absolutely maddening to her, to see him keep Ben Solo, the man he was meant to be, hidden under lock and key. He just needed a little push was all. That’s what she kept telling herself. She just needed to find something, or someone, who could do it.

          But Kylo Ren was an impenetrable wall of cool hostility. Or at least, she thought he had been, until their bond began and he was no longer able to hide much of anything from her. Slowly, cautiously, he had shown her a glimpse of the layer beneath the first, and from that moment on she had wanted more and more until each and every layer had been stripped away and he lay bare before her, completely vulnerable for her. This desire puzzled her, of course, for it felt so intrinsically wrought in the depths of her soul and yet when she put it into words it sounded oddly…compassionate, in a certain way she wasn’t accustomed to.

           She must have made a noise of somesort, for his head snapped up and he sat up rigidly in his chair. His tousledraven hair swirled around his long, scarred face as he turned, and when hiseyes saw her for the first time they softened ever so slightly. He was a hardman; cold and sharp as battle-forged steel. But every time she was around alittle bit of that hardness melted away; a tiny sliver of gentleness, a chinkin the blade’s edge, meant only for her.

           “How long have you been standingthere?” he asked sharply. One hand covered his notes on the paper.

           “Not long,” Rey answered, craningher neck to try and inspect what little she could see of his fine blackmarkings. “What’s that?”

           “It’s nothing.” He said itdismissively before tucking the papers away out of her reach.

           He then turned and appraised herwith one raised eyebrow, as he often did in an attempt to annoy her out oftalking with him. He knew she hated when he did that eyebrow thing. She knew heactually wanted her to stay, no matter what he said or did.

           “Why are you here?”

           “Why are we ever forced togetherlike this?” Rey shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

           “Come now, I’m sure you could findan answer if you searched hard enough,” Kylo said dryly.

           “Hm, alright,” Rey yielded. “Isuppose I came for the usual reason: to try and show you the light, even thoughyou like to act as though you’re blind to such things.”

           “Maybe I am.”

           “And maybe you’re full of fodder.”

           His lips twitched as he restrained asmile. His fine-boned face had relaxed into an expression of wary courtesy. Ever the gentleman is Kylo Ren.

           “I concede; I’m not blind. Not inthe slightest.”

           “Then why do you continuously resistme?” Rey demanded. “You resist your own mother. Why are you fighting so damnhard for something that’s only going to kill you slowly?”

           “Or quickly, if I play my cardsright.” Kylo retorted with dark humour that was not received well, needless tosay.

           He cleared his throat. “You shouldn’tbe so quick to dismiss your charming capabilities. At this challenge you haveproved a more than formidable opponent.”

           One gloved finger ghosted across thescar that ran across his orbital bone, cut diagonally over his profile, anddisappeared under the high collar of his uniform. Rey swallowed. She too oftenthought of their battle in the snowy forest on Starkiller, late at night whenno one else could see her blush at the forceful memory or hear her mutter toherself. Something about Kylo, about their bond, made her feel…different.Alive. Fearless. And a thousand other things, too. That night had been thefirst time she had realized this, along with all its dangerous potential.

           She furrowed her brow, squinting herhazel eyes at him in confusion. He was slowly stepping closer to her, his handsnow clasped behind his back, casual as can be.

           “What are you saying, Ben?” sheasked warily.

           “I’m saying that contrary to yourinterpretation of things, you are incredibly difficult for me to resist,” heexplained, adding in a tempting whisper, “even now.”

           Rey could feel the beads of coolsweat forming along the nape of her neck. She shivered gently as goosebumpsraised the skin on her arms. He was perilously close and it made her breathcatch in her throat. She had to crane her neck a bit to look into his wide,dark eyes; so like his mother’s that it always gave Rey pause when she saw themup close. He had the crooked nose and scoundrel smile of a Solo though, and shecould see the ghost of the latter beginning to shine through on his full,alluring lips.

           “I know why you’re here, Rey,” Hewent on, his voice huskier than ever. “Not because you were thinking about me,or because you were hoping to win me over this time. You’re here because I was thinking of you.”

           There had been multiple times whereRey had sensed this to be the case upon initiation of their connection.Instances where, for one reason or another, she just knew it hadn’t been her who had opened the channel. And yet hewould never outright admit it, and if she suggested the idea he would vehementlydeny it, and try to argue that he was really far too busy to be talking to heranyway. But she had never been one to enjoy that avoidance bullshit, so she hadbecome persistent. And still, he refused to admit to anything. Until now,apparently.

           She thought if her heart beat anyharder in her chest she wouldn’t be able to hear him talk over her own pulse inher ears. Her cheeks burned with a heat that was completely unlike anything shehad experienced in the Jakku dessert.

           She was shocked to see Kylo’s cheekswere even flushed with colour. He was…nervous,but confident at the same time. Almost overly-confident, actually; recklesslyso. But she could feel the harried rhythm of his nerves like a faint vibrationin the air around her. She would have smiled triumphantly if she hadn’t beenfrozen solid with shock. He was nervous, only because he had no idea what theoutcome would be with her. She was, despite their intimate bond, stillsomething of an enigma to him. It frightened him and excited him all at thesame time.

           “Ben…” Her voice was barely awhisper; her throat was bone-dry. “What were you writing?”

           His eyes searched hers intently. Hisstare was so intense, she may have had to look away, had it not been for thesoftness she found in the outer corners of those eyes. Just a little shadow, alittle moisture, in a place that was normally so hard or manic. The lines inhis skin there were smooth; almost youthful. It was a strange thing to notice,but it gave her comfort.

           “A personal log,” he repliedbriefly. He was so close to her she could feel his warm breath tickle her face.

           “About what?”

           He gave her a funny, pleading look,as if to say “You really have to ask me that?”

           “You, of course,” he said somewhatplaintively. “And whatever it is that binds us. How it mystifies me. How I…Ican’t seem to keep you out of my head for even a second anymore. It frustratesthe hell out of me!”

           That ferocity suddenly returned tohis voice and he gripped her upper arms, careful not to squeeze too tight allthe same. She gasped at the contact, entirely swept up in the current of hisemotions.

           “Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to be at the forefront of a war, leading your troops into battle,only to be distracted by the mere thoughtof a scavenger girl appearing to you?” He shook her as he talked, just lightly,as a parent may do to a child they intend to make a desperate impression on inregards to one thing or another.

           “Do you know how many times I havefaltered, because your face suddenly swam across my mind and it utterlydisarmed me? Do you know how weak that — how weak you make me? Even just a second, distracted by you, could be enoughto get me killed. And yet…I continue to do nothing to put a stop to it. Icannot bring myself to end this; to risk never being distracted by you again.”

           She could feel his chest againsthers and his grip tightened on her just a little, enough to hold her immobileand flush against him. But she knew that if she wished to run, he would let hergo. It was good to know, she supposed. Comforting, even. But she didn’t wish torun, not this time.

           “Do you know what that’s like?” heasked in a strained whisper.

           Rey’s eyes fell to his lips. Neverbefore had she seen them so close. Never before had she felt much of a desireto kiss anybody on the mouth, until now. They drew her in like a magnet and shewas weak against their pull. She wanted to kiss that beautiful, stupid mouth.As she realized this, she felt the winds of fate shift just so, and it wasenough to prompt her next words, which came out clear and strong:

           “Yes. I do.”

           Kissing him was like lazing in thewarm morning sun on Jakku. It was like being washed clean by the refreshingrains of Ahch-To. It was like cruising through endless space and bottomlessstars, seeing beauty in all of it, even the darkness. But then there was the thrillof it; oh, the thrill! A sudden, lurching jump into hyperspace had nothing onthis.

           Their kiss was soft, like theprecious, almost tentative first kiss of youth. They held each other in theirarms as though they were each other’s shields, keeping one another safe fromany and all forms of danger. And for the first time in their lives that theycould remember, both Rey and Ben felt truly, peacefully safe.

           Shortly after they parted Bendisappeared, leaving Rey to stand alone on the grassy cliff, her left armpositioned upwards, fingers outstretched, tracing a scar that was no longerthere.

[yoosungiib]

I’d like to request MC going through a bad emotional breakdown (can be caused by a really bad fight with the RFA or whatever you want) that causes a lapse in her memory. Like, she’s so out of it during her meltdown that she doesn’t realize where or who she’s with and the RFA are really worried and trying to bring her back to reality. I’d also like the minor trio included. If it’s too much you don’t have to do it!

Of course I can, darling. Ah~, do I love me some angst and some fluff! ;D I’ll say this quickly, I’ve had incidents where I’ve had breakdowns or panic attacks and I’ve had memory lapses, so I kinda based these off of my own experiences, and how others like my parents and friends will help me.

If there is anything you think I did wrong, or not accurately to yours, if that is what you are implying, please tell me and I will do my best to fix it. Thank you! :)

Seven and Saeran’s were my favorites by the way~ ;) it’s no surprise that Saeran’s was my favorite~ but I just thought I’d share :D

RFA + Minor Trio reacting to MC having a bad emotional breakdown that causes a short memory lapse due to an argument

~~~

★ Yoosung ★

It was an accident, but Yoosung didn’t think so; you guys had been arguing over the amount of time Yoosung was spending playing video games for a couple weeks now. You tried to lay off him after he confessed he felt like you were trying to control him, but you couldn’t help that it bothered you how much more time he seemed to like spending playing video games then actually spending time with you.

So of course when you accidently spilt your tea on his computer when you tripped on one of his LOLOL guides mind you, he immediately presumed you did it on purpose because you didn’t want him playing anymore, and boy was he furious.

“Yoosung, I promise it was an accident!” You exclaim, already getting yourself worked up as tears brimmed in your eyes, and you found yourself becoming light headed and stressed. He looked so angry, and angry Yoosung can either be funny or terrifying, and as of now, it was terrifying.

“So what are you then, careless? Or just stupid? Do you think I’m really so gullible as to believe this is just a coincidence after all the badgering you’ve been doing on how much I play?”

“Yoosung, please-”

“No! What’s wrong with me playing every once in awhile? You say that I don’t leave enough time for you when I’m providing for you, making sure food is on the table, dammit, you don’t even have a job! And so what I just want to take a break and play one match? God, it’s like I can’t do anything with my free will anymore!”

“Please, Yoosung, stop,” you cried.

“Save it,” he snapped, turning around from you, grabbing a paper towel and angrily beginning to clean up the mess on his desk. “I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

“Y-Yoosung, please, I can’t… I swear, I didn’t…”

Your knees suddenly buckled, and you fell against the hard bedroom floor, meekly reaching your arms out to stop yourself. It was like a damn had been broken as your tears fell from your eyes, gliding down your face like streams. You were panting heavily, and you rolled onto your side, pulling your knees up to your chest, rocking a little as you sobbed and clutched at your head.

Yoosung stopped his cleaning and instantly felt guilty when he saw you on the ground having your breakdown. He tossed the rag across the room and slid across the floor to you. He didn’t know if he should touch you, so his hands first hovered over your body as he said, “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m so sorry!”

You clearly were not comprehending anything he was saying, so he slowly lifted your upper body from the ground and pulled you against his chest, cupping your head and holding it against his shoulder. “Where am I, who are you, I don’t understand, p-please.” Yoosung was concerned and really confused; he’s seen you have panic attacks before, or a few breakdowns, but never anything like this. You just seem so much more distraught and disoriented. I mean, you’re here saying you don’t know where you are or who you’re with, so of course he’s incredibly confused and a little lost at what to do.

He gulps, continuing to pet your hair and rock you a little. “It’s me, baby, it’s Yoosung,” he starts, voice cracking a little as he feels himself starting to cry, heartbroken at your state. “We’re in our bedroom, in our apartment.”

Slowly he pulls you up, helping you onto your feet. He takes you out of the bedroom and walks you around the house, careful of your wobbly legs, and very aware of the fact you are still hyperventilating a bit. He keeps an arm wrapped around you, and guides you, pointing things out. He stops when he finds Lisa at her food bowl, staring up at the rather distraught couple. He chuckles lightly and picks the small kitten up, placing her into your hands and wrapping your fingers around it’s tiny body. “This is our kitty, Lisa! She’s beautiful isn’t she? Do you remember Lisa? Are you remembering where you are now?”

You slowly nod, snuggling the kitten against your chest, nestling your cheek against the top of it’s head. Yoosung sighs, smiling as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. “I’m so sorry, MC. I was so mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t take your anxiety into account when I was yelling, a-and I know you would have never spilt your tea on purpose. I’m so sorry.”

You nod, smiling softly and accepting his apology quietly. Yoosung is very doting and affectionate for the rest of the day. He orders takeout, leaves the mess for later, and just spends the day looking after you.

He feels really terrible about what happened– he honestly doesn’t know what to do at first to help you other than just a lot of cuddling and kissing, and saying quite a lot that he is just so sorry. He never wants to see you experience something like that again.

♪ Zen ♪

The fight happened to be over money. It was no secret to anyone in the RFA that money was tight for you guys, even with Zen’s flourishing career. You had a small job that paid small, and theatre actors don’t normally get paid. And if they do get paid, it’s not a lot. Even when in movies, he doesn’t get paid enough.

You could tell Zen was really frustrated about the money situation. For one, he wished he had enough money in the world so he could buy you more stuff, take you places and treat you to things, but some nights, you guys could barely afford dinner.

Zen is usually really good about keeping his emotions in check, not letting his anger or frustration get to him, but when he finds out that you, Seven and Yoosung went out for dinner for a catch up, and you paid for the meal, he was furious for two reasons; One, he’s jealous, and two, you couldn’t afford to pay for three meals!

“What were you thinking!?” he barked, the booming in his voice startling you, causing you to flinch. “You know we cannot afford to take people out to dinner.”

“It was the least I could due-”

“Least you could do? You didn’t need to do anything?! You didn’t owe them anything! Why did you even have to go out with them anyways? All you have done now is waste our money!” You take a deep breath, feeling your chest clench up and breathing become harder.

You reach out to Zen, hoping to calm him down some bit with simple affection, but just as your fingers brush against his he yanks his hand away, mumbling under his breath he can’t deal with this before going into the bedroom and slamming the door.

You feel your heart sink as you sit outside the door, your back against the hardwood and your knees pulled to your chest. You tried to talk to him through the door but he ignored you, and at one point you were pretty sure you smelt smoke so you had a feeling he was smoking in there, which any day would bother you to no wits end, yet at this moment all you wanted was him to talk to you again.

The attack hit you quickly. Suddenly, you were unable to breath, and your hands were tingling, numb, and you could feel sweat pooling at your hairline and dripping down your forehead. “Please, please, I…,” you couldn’t form any proper words as your memory seemed to be fading, and you couldn’t hold onto it.

The door behind you opened, and you felt warm arms wrapping around you from behind, however, you couldn’t quite grasp who it could be. For some reason, you couldn’t remember where you were, who you were with, what was happening, and it was making you panic even more. But the warm embrace was comforting, and you gripped the arms that were clutching onto you.

“Breathe, princess. Take a deep breath, ok? Ready, breath in… breath out. Just like that, you’re doing great,” he praises.

“I don’t know what’s happening, where am I?” you ask, your voice quivering.

Zen moves you so your facing him on his lap, peppering kisses on your face and rubbing your back. “You’re at home, and you’re safe. You’re in your prince charming’s arms, and I will always keep you safe,” he says, still kissing you.

After a couple more minutes or so, your memories come back and you feel your panic attack subsiding. You relax against his chest, breathing in his scent from his shirt. “I’m sorry, Zen,” you whisper. Zen smiles gently, apologizing too for yelling. The rest of the day, he completely showers you with affection; tons of cuddles, fun in bed~, and letting you chose the games and movies you guys watch that night.  

❀ Jaehee ❀

That atmosphere of your shared apartment is nothing close to tranquility as the two of you stressed out over the tardiness for the arrival of new plates and mugs. Jaehee was practically pulling her hair out, and you chewed at your lip, waiting by the door for the new china to arrive. It wasn’t that you guys were particularly low on plates, but with the cafe getting more popular, and lots of plates being broken in the past, new ones were in need.

Finally, the plates and mugs arrive, and you take the box from the postman and rush up the stairs to the apartment. Unfortunately, you miscalculated a step and tripped, dropping the package in the process, causing the box to fall down the flight of stairs, and the plates and mugs inside to shatter.

Jaehee hearing the sound of broken glass drops everything and runs to the stairs. You looked up from your position sprawled on the stairs, and you watch as her face contorts to concern, and then anger in a flash. She glares down at you and her face becomes a bright red. At the top of the stairwell, she shouts down at you, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Her voice echoes, bouncing off the walls, and you bow your head in shame as you slowly start to pick yourself up.

“Do you realize what you’ve done? How much money we spent on all that new china, and now it lays a shattered mess at the bottom of the stairs? How absent minded are you.”

You gulp, a single tear slipping from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Jaehee, I really am-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, MC. We can’t afford another batch of plates. What are we going to do, MC? You tell me,” she demands. You stay silent, besides a few more tears falling, and your anxiety getting worse. You try to form a response but you’re unable to. “Tell me, MC, tell me!” Jaehee shouts, and you jump, your body trembling.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I…” you don’t know. You don’t know anything, literally. You suddenly can’t remember where you are. You suddenly can’t remember what happened. You suddenly can’t remember who Jaehee is; your mind goes blank and you try to put all the pieces together and joggle you memory, shaking your head and banging the side of it, but nothing seems to come back to you.

And then the panting begins. Still on the stairs, you rock back and forth, looking around you frantically, and pulling your knees to your chests and clutching them tightly.

You shut your eyes, and listened to the sound of the stairs creaking, and you felt the sudden presence of a body besides you. Jaehee takes a deep breath, pulling herself into check before resting a hand on the top of your knee since you sit with your back against the wall and feet rested on the stairs. “Ok, MC,” she says gently, after a while carefully taking a hold of your hand, rubbing the top your hand in gentle circles with her thumb. “Let’s breathe together.”

“I don’t know where am I, where am I, I don’t-”

“MC,” she says gently interrupting you. “Calm down. We’re in our apartment complex, we are on the stairs, and through that door is our home, ok? Nod if you understand.” You slowly nod, feeling your senses coming back to you.

“Ok, can you tell me who I am?” You nod and tell her her name, barely above a whisper, and Jaehee smiles. “Good. Are you feeling better? Your breathing sounds much better, dear.” You nod once again. “That’s good again. Here, let’s get you inside and something to drink.”

Suddenly remembering the plates, you turn towards the box that lays on the ground, some plates flooding out of it, and you try to move to it mumbling you need to ‘fix things.’ But Jaehee gently grabs your arm, pulling you away and telling you she’ll deal with it in a bit, or she’ll call someone to help out with the mess.

She sits you on the couch and goes to make you a cup of tea. She comes back a few minutes later with a steaming cup, and carefully puts it in your hands. She sits besides you, watching you carefully as you stare aimlessly into the glass with a glum look. “Are you ok, MC?”

“Are you still mad at me?” you ask quietly, not meeting her gaze but continuing to look into the tea. Jaehee sighs, scooching closer to you and wrapping her arms around you.

“MC, I’m not happy, but I’m not mad either. It was an accident, and I was just frustrated and a little harsh with you. For that I apologize.” You nod, a small smile gracing your features. Jaehee grins, patting your head with her hand so it can then rest on her shoulder. “Now, I was gonna save this for a surprise, but I don’t see why not show it to you now, but… I got us a copy of Zen performing in Zekyll and Hyde!! What do you say we watch it?”

☂ Jumin ☂

guys, totally paired Yoosung and Zen together here, this is my ship!

Though Jumin may deny it, or pass it off as him just be protective, ona quote-on-quote ‘healthy level,’ Jumin is a jealous man. And he has a tendency to become jealous whenever he says a man look at you, or more importantly, whenever you have your movie nights with Zen and Yoosung.

For one, he’s already bothered that he is not allowed to come under Zen’s request. It is Zen’s house afterall. And two, though the two men, Zen and Yoosung, made their relationship official only a couple months ago, he still has his suspicions that Zen has some sort of feelings for you. Maybe even Yoosung for that matter!

But of course, he doesn’t stop you from going to these movies nights because as much as he wants to, he knows it would be controlling you, and that isn’t fair, and though he is your husband, it doesn’t give him a right to do that. However, he draws the line when you decide to stay the night with Zen and Yoosung after a movie ran late. When Driver Kim came home empty handed, without you, Jumin was furious and demanding his driver to take him to the residence of Zen and Yoosung.

He knocked on the door, his fists practically banging on the hardwood, and of course it was Zen who answered and immediately had his own scowl on his face, telling Jumin to go away since he disturbed all their sleeps. Hearing the commotion and the arguing between the two, you exited the spare room and rushed over, seeing Jumin in the doorway clearly very upset.

“Jumin? Darling? Why are you here-”

“I need to talk to you,” he cuts you off. Zen continued to quarrel with Jumin, but Yoosung, very tired and in his onesie, gently pulled Zen away telling Zen to let them talk. Guys, this is my SHIP!

“Are you ok, Jumin?”

“No, I am not ok,” he snaps, you and him now standing in the center of the room. You jump a little, crossing your arms in front of your chest and give him a concerned look. You debate on walking closer to him and maybe trying to give him a comforting touch, but you decide it’s probably better to give him some space for now. From the short distance you are away from him, you can see his is clearly angry and cleary has no control of his emotions at the moment. It’s a little frightening to be honest. He is not someone you generally want to make angry. “What the hell are you thinking staying the night with two men who are not your husband? It’s bad enough that I let you come here anyway at odd hours, but now you want to be sleeping here?”

“Jumin, I’m sorry, I really didn’t think it was a big deal. The movie just ran late and I didn’t want to make Driver Kim wait any longer.”

Jumin flairs his nostril, huffing before laughing exasperated. “MC, it’s his job to drive us around, it’s not your concern whether or not he’s out too late or not – I give him a pretty good paycheck for it.” You nod slowly, ready to say something but he cuts you off again, his voice become gradually louder too. “And that is besides the point! You should be at home with me, with your husband. I don’t trust these two for you to be alone with them. You have no idea what they would do.”

“Jumin, please, you know they would never do anything, we’re just friends. And can you please stop shouting, I know you’re upset but it’s really stressing me out,” you said, taking a step closer to him and reaching out your hand to take his. But for some reason, that seemed the be the last straw for him, and he hollered without even thinking, “You’re stressed out!? How the hell do you think I feel!?” You gasped, stepping backwards a couple steps. Immediately, Jumin felt guilty for yelling, and yelling so close to your face. His face softened when he saw the look of horror and fear on your face. He was about to apologize but you suddenly collapsed on the ground, your knees buckling and your hands reaching out to stop yourself from partially belly flopping on the ground.

Jumin recognized right away that you were entering a panic attack or a break down, and he sprinted towards you, falling to the ground besides you and yanking you onto his lap. He had his arm wrapped around you back, and he pushed the loose strands of hair away from your face, then cupping your cheek that was becoming soggy from tears. “MC? Can you hear me? You’re ok, shh,” he soothes.

You mutter a few things, at first incomprehensible, but then he can hear you clearly when you say, “Where am I?” a few times, over and over again.

“We’re at Zen and Yoosung’s home, darling. Remember? You came here for movie night?” You shake your head frantically, and Jumin shouts for Zen and Yoosung. The two men come out, and the moment they see you and Jumin on the ground, they are running to you guys.

“What happened? Should I call an ambulance-”

“What movie were you guys watching?” Zen stops, looking at Jumin with a dumbfounded look.

“What?”

“What fucking movie were you watching?!”

“The Bee Movie!” Yoosung shouts rushing back in with a glass of water, handing it Jumin who yanks it out of his hand and brings to your mouth, helping you to drink it since you are shaking so much. “We were watching The Bee Movie, it was my choice since I thought it would be-”

Jumin cuts Yoosung off, gently pressing the cool glass against your face, saying, “Remember? Is it coming back to you, love?” A small smile graces Jumins features. He feels his own tears brimming in his eyes, pain in his heart seeing you so disoriented and lost, and it hurts more knowing he caused this. “You remember who I am, right? Jumin, you’re husband. And Zen and Yoosung, they’re,” he nearly gags here, “your best friends.”

Slowly, you begin to calm down, your breathing coming back to a normal pace, and though you’re incredibly pale and flushed, you are more relaxed. You rest against Jumin, too tired to do or say anything. The four of you just sit there, Jumin rubbing your back and stroking your arms, peppering a few kisses to the top of your head. After awhile, you fall asleep against him, and Zen shows him to the guest bedroom, Jumin carrying you bridal style. He rests you under the covers, tucking it up to your chin, and he bends down to kiss your cheek. “I’ll come back for her in the morning. Please take care of him, and watch over her if possible,” Jumin says rather glumly, his head slightly bowed as he walks towards the door. His breath hitches however when he feel’s Zen’s hand on his shoulder.

“Stay with her, man. She’s gonna need her husband the most, alright?” Jumin nods, agreeing with Zen and giving a small thank you before walking back to the guest room. Before entering, he turns around slowly to face Zen who is cleaning up some of the mess from movie night, and says,

“I’m sorry about this.” Zen stops to look up at Jumin, his eyes widening slightly. “Really, I am.” Zen lets out a small laugh, coming over to pat Jumins shoulder and saying, “I know you are. Now go to your wife.” Jumin chuckles, closing the door and sliding under the covers besides you, still in his suit. He cuddles up to you, and he grins when you unknowingly in your sleep cuddle up to him. He wraps his arms around you and tucks your head beneath his chin. It takes him a while to fall asleep, since he wants to make sure you are ok and comfortable, and that nothing disturbs your sleep. During that time he stays awake, he thinks of all the ways he plans to spoil you.

☺ Seven/Saeyoung ☺

To say you were stressed and a little unhinged with how Seven was acting since he got to your apartment, which was once Rika’s, would be an understatement. No, you were beyond stressed at this point, finding yourself alone in your room having to pull your emotions into check as you would cry, thinking of the hurtful things he said to you.

Everything you did in an attempt to get closer to him, to help him, to comfort him always backfired in your face, since instead of accepting anything from you, he’d only yell and say something hurtful. Usually it would be a jab at your intelligence, or a reminder that he didn’t care for you or how you felt whatsoever. And after he dismissed you harshly, you managed to make it seem like you didn’t care, and his words did not affect you like they really did. But then you went to your room, locked the door, and hid under your covers, silently crying yourself to sleep.

You didn’t want him to push you away anymore. You understood why he was doing it; he was upset, broken, felt betrayed by his father figure, was scared – you understood! And you wanted to help him because you loved him. But he wouldn’t let you.

You had just finished making spaghetti for dinner. Seven was still in the corner, his back towards you as usual and his headphones covering his ears. You could hear what sounded like strange music blasting through the headphones, slightly muffled. You scooped some spaghetti into a bowl for yourself, and in a bowl for him, and you carried it over to him, placing it on the floor besides him. But in a second of the bowl touching the ground, his hand shot out and he shoved it across the room, some of the spaghetti falling from the sides.

You sighed, gently sitting on your knees a short distance away from him. You took the bowl and pushed it back to him, and this time he didn’t touch it, just glared at it and you from the corner of his eyes. “Seven, please eat. I know you haven’t eaten in at least a day.” After saying that, you realized there was no way he could have heard you with his headphones on. Taking a deep breath you reached over to take his headphones off but seeing you in the corner of his eyes, he is quick in turning towards you, grabbing a hold of your wrist and startling, taking his headphones off himself but only so he can yell at you.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he shouts, his voice booming throughout the apartment. Your breathing becomes heavier, but you remain calm, pulling your wrist out of his grasp and taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just you need to eat.”

Seven scoffs, slamming his computer shut and spinning his whole body around to face you properly. “Well you have upset me,” he says, a deep frown on his face. Your breath hitches at the dark tone in his voice, and you keep your gaze down, not wanting to look him in the eyes. “What I need is for you to leave me alone so I can work. So please, for the love of god, just go away.” He turns back to work, slowly opening the computer back up and moving to put his headphones back on, but when he sees that you haven’t moved a budge, he snaps, “Why are you still here?”

Trying your best not to cry, though tears were burning behind your eyes, you asked rather meekly and desperately, “Please stop doing this to me.” Your voice was so quiet that Seven almost didn’t hear you. “It really hurts me,” you say. Seven feels a pain in his heart, though he keeps a straight face as he stares at you. God, does it hurt him to be hurting you like this, but yet he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want you in danger, and the only way he knows how to stop you from being in danger is by pushing you away and making sure you know that he is too dangerous. But the both of you know deep down no matter what he says, you will not leave him. You love him so much. Still, he does not stop.

“I don’t care about your feelings,” he says curtly.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you say, but stopping yourself from saying anymore as you see Seven start to rise, you jumping to your feet too as you back away from him, slightly alarmed at the grave look on his face.

“Oh, yeah?” he snides, taking a few more steps to you, you walking away from him until you can’t go any further since your back is against the wall. “Do you want to know what I really care about, MC? What I care about is finding my brother who I’ve only just found out has been used and manipulated for these past years when I thought he was safe!” He shouted, causing you to jump and turn your face away, clenching your eyes shut. “I care about bringing him home, and curing him, and maybe I would have done that by now if it wasn’t that I have to worry about you, or you didn’t bother me so damn much.”

Seven shuts up instantly when your face crumpled and tears started to flow down your cheeks. It wasn’t just simple crying, but full on sobs into your hands, your whole entire body shaking and racking with sobs. “Shit,” he mutters, realizing he went way too far. He doesn’t know what to do for a minute, and he justs stares at you crying. He goes to reach for you but you suddenly push past him, tripping on your feet a bit as you run through the door of the apartment.

He is quick on your tail, shouting your name as you run into the empty elevator, falling to the ground against the elevator walls. He falls besides you, his arms wrapping around you and he slams his fist against the emergency button as the elevator starts to move down. He cradles your head against his chest, allowing you to sob uncontrollably into his shirt. I fucked up, I fucked up, he thinks to himself. He wants to panic and cry himself, but what is more important to him is calming you down. “MC? MC, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that, I promise you, I meant none of that.”

“Where am I? I don’t understand, where am I, what’s happening?” He’s confused for a moment, but then he figures you are having a memory lapse due to all your emotions running wild and probably a high blood pressure. Now he really is about to have a panic attack, but he takes a deep breath, rubbing your arms as he pulls you off his chest and rests you against the elevator wall. He moves to sit on his knees in front of you, and he takes a gentle hold of your hands, massaging the top of them with his thumb.

“We are in an elevator, MC. We are in your apartment complex. You live in the apartment that used to belong to Rika, the head of the RFA, but it’s now your home, do you remember, honey?” he asks. You don’t make any indication of knowing what he’s talking about, so he sighs and then asks, “You know who I am right? 707! Some people call me Seven, or even better, Defender of Justice. I make a lot of jokes in our RFA chat room that you seem to like. Here’s one now! What’s 6 inches long, 2 inches wide and drives me wild? That cash from Jumin Han!” wow, hilarious

You snort, your hand going to your mouth as you start to laugh, and Seven laughs along with you, slowly letting go of your hands then cupping your face, stroking your cheek gently. “I love that smile,” he whispers. He slowly sits next to you, his back against the wall, and he holds your hand, the both of you sitting together in silence for awhile. “I’m so sorry,” he says breaking the silence after ten minutes or so.

“It’s ok,” you say quietly. 

Seven shakes his head, squeezing your hand and looking towards you. “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said that because it’s not true. I care about you so much, MC.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he says with a smile, leaning down to press his lips against yours. The two of you smile into the kiss, and he pulls you onto this lap. The both of you stay in the elevator for awhile, not wanting to move or come out of eachothers embraces, but just enjoy finally getting to be in eachothers arms.

❆ V ❆

this isn’t a real argument because I don’t see you guys fighting unless it’s over Rika, and I don’t feel like talking about her right now, nuh uh

It was quite the grand ball that Jumin had invited you and V too, and unfortunately, it therefore made anxiety a greater matter for you as you found yourself overwhelmed by all the people and all the guests. But V and had been looking forward to this party since it meant he was going to have time with Jumin, and he had rarely been able to see Jumin after being in Paris and his busy work schedule. So you pretended to not be really freaking out on the inside, and acted as if you were fine and unbothered by anything.

But as the night continued, and you found it harder and harder to contain your anxiety, you couldn’t help but rush to find V, who stood admiring some flowers in a garden and taking a few pictures while Jumin went to get wine, and start to beg him to take you home.

At this point, you were not particularly in full on panic mode, so when you came to him telling him you wanted to leave, he refused, saying he did not want to leave since he had been looking forward to this, and he didn’t believe it was fair to Jumin. He was as gentle as ever, smiling softly and stroking your cheek, saying, “Just another hour, darling, alright? Then we can go home.”

But then your face became pale and your eyes widened, and V was suddenly frowning, and gripping your shoulders, sitting you down on the outside bench. “Darling? Are you alright?” he asks. Your entire body starts to shake, and V watches as you become more flushed and your breathing becomes heavier. V cups your cheek, and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. You are definitely in a full on panic attack at this point, and V is frantically pulling his jacket off and swinging it around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to try and keep you warm and soothe you. “It’s going to be alright, sweetheart, I’m going to get you through this, just focus on me and focus on your breathing.”

Jumin finally comes back, and when he sees what is going on he practically throws the glass of wine across the yard and rushes over to you guys, one hand on V’s shoulder, the other on your arm. “Does she need an ambulance? A doctor? Can I get her something?” he asks his friend, knowing that you are only going through a panic attack, but wanting to take proper permissions.

“Please find a doctor and get her some water. Her heart rate is getting way too high. Thank you, Jumin.” Jumin nods and rushes off to get his doctor and some water, and V goes right back to helping you. He kneels in front of you keeps his hands holding yours on your knees. “My love? Can you hear me?”

“Where am I? What’s going on? Who are you, I don’t remember what’s happening-”

“Shh, shh,” he gently shushes, stroking your cheek and pushing hair behind your ears. “It’s ok, this has happened before. You are suffering with a short memory lapse, darling. We are at a party. I am your husband, Jihyun. We are here for our friend Jumin, do you remember that?”

After thinking it over, you slowly nod, the memories coming back and you slump on the bench, your breathing slowing down too for that matter. Jumin arrives with the doctor and water, handing it to you, and since your hands still shake, V helps you to take small sips. He turns to Jumin and asks, “Is there any chance you can call a cab for us, please? I would like to take her home now.”

“Of course, I will have Driver Kim take you home. And if you don’t mind, I will stop by your residence tomorrow to check on MC and we can chat a little more.” V smiles, thanking his friend then lifting you up bridal style, cradling you against him. He carries you out to the car waiting for you both, gently fastening your seatbelt and resting your head on his shoulder. He smiles when you cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him in a hug. He hears you mumble something into his shirt, and he tilts your head back a bit asking you to please repeat.

“I’m sorry I ruined the party,” you say again, a single tear slipping from your eye but V is quick to wipe it away with his thumb.

“Don’t say that, my love. I’m sorry for not listening to you when you asked to leave. I should have taken better notice that you were uncomfortable. If I had, this wouldn’t have happened.”

V takes you home and makes you some dinner, since neither of you had eaten properly at the party. Afterwards, the two of you spend a peaceful night together on the couch, drinking tea and watching whatever is on the television until you both fall asleep on the couch.

☻ Saeran/Unknown ☻

A simple thing any normal couple would argue over suddenly turned into something personal, and something terrifying for Saeran who had to witness your breakdown. Thankfully, Saeran knew what to do based off of his own breakdowns, some of which caused short memory lapses too, so he knew how to aid and tend to you properly.

Even so, he found himself panicicing at your shaking and stuttering from, crying you didn’t know where you were. What made it worse for Saeran was he completely blamed himself for letting a silly thing turn into a big argument. However, what was more important to him then dwelling over his self-blame, was helping you and calming you down.

You noticed pretty soon into the relationship that Saeran had a tendency to leave his clothes around, not picking them up or carelessly tossing them somewhere without thinking. You could live with it at first, just bending down to pick them up and toss them in the laundry yourself, but then one day you slipped on a sock and hurt your back. Not seriously, but it was enough to make you upset and fed up with his tendencies.

Never did you think just a simple asking of him to try to pick up his clothes would make him so angry. His face turned red and small scowl was on his face. His brows stitched together in irritation, and he clenched his fists to his sides before snapping at you, “Don’t try to control me.”

You looked at him flabbergasted, tongue tied before saying softly, “That wasn’t what I was trying to do, baby-”

“Yeah, well it’s exactly what it sounds like you are doing. I’m tired of people trying to control what I do or don’t do. You said it yourself that I am free now, so let me be free.”

You sighed, trying to reach out to him and take his hand, but he startles you by yanking it out of your grip, turning away from you to head to the kitchen. You can feel yourself getting stressed out, and upset too for that matter at his attitude towards you. You didn’t think you were being irrational – you let the whole ‘clothes on the floor’ thing go for a long time. And you asked him nicely and respectively, so why was he acting like this? Taking a few deep breaths, you followed him into the kitchen, and watched him angrily pull out pans and start to make dinner. Even when angry, his top priority is your well being.

“Saeran, can we please talk about this?” He slams one of the pots on the counter, turning around to look at you, his eyes squinting, still cleary upset. “I’m sorry if I upset you, that wasn’t my intention. It’s just it’s becoming a safety hazard – I slipped a couple days ago on a sock. And sometimes I find clothes just in the randomness of places. Let this not turn into a big argument, but let us deal with this civilly. Why don’t we sit down and-”

“This wouldn’t have turned into an argument if you were not trying to control me,” he snaps, striding a little closer to you. “This isn’t about the damn clothes.”

“Saeran, you are making it not about the clothes. You are misunderstanding what I’m saying and taking it way out of proportion. I am not trying to control you! I just want you to learn to put your clothes away and not throw them on the floor!”

“You see!” He suddenly shouts, his voice booming and echoing throughout the house, bouncing off the walls and hitting louder against your ears. “You know who you sound like? Rita. You act as if I’m incapable or that I am helpless by trying to tell me what to do, and how to act. Did you lie to me when you said I was free? Did you? Did you lie like her?”

That seemed to be a breaking point for you. He thought you were like Rika? The Rika who hurt, brainwashed, tortured him, and he was comparing you to her. You wanted to say something, you literally had something on the tip of your tongue, but your whole body suddenly went numb. You couldn’t feel your tongue, let alone the rest of your body. Hot sweat starting pouring down from your forehead, and your face crumpled before tears pooled at the brim of your eyes then spilling down your cheeks and dripping to the floor. Your lip trembled, and you hiccuped. “MC?” Saeran asks taking a much gentler tone, carefully reaching to cup your cheek. You just hiccuped for a moment, not really comprehending he was touching you and trying to apologize, before your knees buckled and you fell to the ground, your shaking going to a whole other level.

Saeran caught you, sliding to the ground with you. To anyone, it may have looked like you were having a seizure, but Saeran could tell by your crying, and by how wide and terrified your eyes were, that this was a panic attack or breakdown. When you started crying, “W-where am I? Where am I? Who… I don’t know what’s happening,” Saeran immediately recognized this behavior as something he suffered with in early recovery. You were having a memory lapse due to your breakdown, he was certain of that. He really felt like trash at that moment, thinking back to what he said as he held onto you, realizing how irrational and cruel he sounded. More than anything, he felt like kicking himself but he knew that now was not the time to be thinking about that, and hating himself at the moment would not help the situation any more.

“MC, it’s me. Saeran, your boyfriend, see?” he said, pulling away the hair that sticked to your face, and cupping your cheeks in a way he could hold you closer to his own face so you could get a better look. “We’ve been together for a year now, remember?”

“Where am I? Where am I?” You panicked.

“We’re at home, this is our home. We are in the kitchen.” He scoops you up, rushing up the stairs with you still in his arms and into the bedroom. “This is our room,” he says, laying you gently on the bed, swinging you around so your back is against the fluffy pillows, and he can sit next to you.

He reaches across you, one hand resting gently on your arm, and pulls over a soft blanket. He takes your hands and helps you to grip the blanket. “This is your favorite blanket. It’s soft isn’t it? You like to wrap yourself up in – sometimes we cuddle in it together,” he says, taking the blanket from you to wrap it around your shoulders.

He takes a small vase from the nightstand and holds it in front of you. “This is a primrose. It’s our flower. We make sure to always have a new, fresh primrose in this vase. We bought this vase together. Can you tell me the colour of the vace?”

“Blue,” you stuttered.

“Yes, do you know why we got a blue vase? To symbolize the blue rose I used to always where, impossibility, and remember how far I’ve come.  It was your idea, and I was so happy when you suggested it. It made my heart flutter!”

He started showing you random things around to room, in hopes to joggle your memory a bit. He made sure to always have a hand on you, like your arm or shoulder, and to keep in your line and vision. Slowly but surely, you began to relax, and besides a few sniffling as you clutched the blanket close to you and had a tight grip on Saeran’s hand, your breakdown concluded and your ‘memories’ were back. You panted slowly, wiping at your face since tears still fell.

You looked up at Saeran, and he gave you a gentle smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. You sunk into him, resting your head on his chest and gripping onto his shirt. “I’m sorry, Saeran,” you say softly, a few tears dripping onto his shirt, dappening the spot above his heart. Saeran shook his head, stroking your head and tangling his fingers within your hair. He turned and gave your forehead a kiss before saying,

“Don’t apologize. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have been so irrational. I know you were not trying to control me, and you are nothing like Rika. I should have never said that. I’m so sorry. I love you, MC.” He bends down, tilting your head back a bit so he can press his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. The kiss goes on for a couple minutes, your lips moving together gracefully, softly, tenderly.  “My precious flower, my angel. I love you.”

You nodded, forgiving him, and snuggling into him more, a smile on your face. “I love you too, Saeran. I love you so, so much. Nothing will ever make me stop loving you.” You were too tired to say anything else, and you quickly fell asleep laying on Saeran. When you woke up a couple hours later, Saeran ran you a bath then made you dinner, and the two of you sat on the couch, talking everything out together between kisses and snuggles. You then both watched a movie, and the whole time Saeran was very doting and affectionate you guys also took a walk on the beach at one point. It was night time, and the two of your could look up at the stars and count constellations. It felt nice and you felt much better than earlier. Between the debate with the clothes and breakdown, everything was sorted, and you were very happy about that; you were very happy that you could now sit here with Saeran, cuddled up to him, feeling peaceful and loved.

✌ Vanderwood ✌

“MC!” You jumped nearly a foot in the air, never before having heard Vanderwood shout so loud or sound so angry. You rested a hand over your beating heart, taking a few deep breaths before going towards the sound of your vexed boyfriend.

In the kitchen, he stood in front of the open dishwasher, glaring at you as his brows stitched together in irritation, a scowl, and his face red. In all honesty, you were a little afraid, and confused as to why he was so angry until he pointed at the dishwasher and all the plates that were inside. You stepped closer and saw that one had a large crack down the middle. You opened the mouth to say something but he stopped you, his voice booming as he yells, “How many damn times have I told you that you can’t put the plates this way? I have showed you numerous times how to do the fucking dishwasher, and every time you still do it fucking wrong.”

Immediately you felt the tears burning in your eyes, but you tried to remain calm and appease the situation. However, it seemed he wasn’t having any of what you had to say. Every time you tried to apologize, he would spit something back at you shouting apologies were not enough. Every time you tried to defend yourself, it just made him yell more than your excuses were pathetic. Soon enough, you were on the brink of a full panic and emotional breakdown. This day, week had already been stressful as it was with work. You knew it had been stressful for Vanderwood too because he started a new job and it was a huge adjustment for him. Due to this, you kept your strains to yourself, but now with him yelling and you getting yourself worked up, you were unable to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him.

“You are either careless or stupid, MC, what is it?” He didn’t mean to be harsh or mean, he was just angry. His face immediately softens when he sees you start to shake, and now he is panicking. Tears are running down your face in fast streams; you are in full on sobs. Your head is bowed and your body is trembling as you wrap your arms around yourself. You start muttering things incoherently, and he’s trying to figure out what you’re saying as he still stands still besides the dishwasher. When he sees you’re about to collapse, he runs over to you, not caring that he bangs his leg against the open dishwasher, and grabs you before slowly lowering you to the ground. “Hey, hey, look I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, trying this best to soothe and calm you.

He holds you tight against him, your face buried in his purple shirt, and while he still holds onto you, he manages to get his coat off and sling it around you. He has both arms wrapped around you, one stroking your arm and the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. He kisses the top of your head, leaving his face there as he rocks you back and forth.

You start to mumble things again, and Vanderwood gently pulls you off of him, still situated on his lap, and cups your face. “Take deep breaths, MC, take deep breaths then talk.”

You don’t really listen to him and start rambling, “I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I am, who… who…”

“Ok, ok,” he says, more to calm himself down, but you too. He wipes at your tears and brushes the hair behind your ears. “We’re at home, MC. This is our home, that’s where you are.” He points at himself, and says, “I’m Vanderwood, your fiance. We’ve been together for a year now. Sometimes you call me Vandy, or Stark, because you know that makes me happy.”

“Vanderwood?” you ask meekly, blinking rapidly as you try to jog your memory. He smiles softly, holding your chin.

“Yes, and you’re MC. You’re the party coordinator for the RFA, a really fucked up organization that you’ve been trying to convince me to join for the last year.” You laugh and he laughs with you, wiping some slobber from your mouth. “See, you’re remembering now.” You nod your head, smiling slightly before your eyes suddenly go wide and you grip onto Vanderwoods sleeve, giving him another look of panic.

“The dishwasher-”

He quickly shushes you, placing a finger over your lip. He shakes his head and says softly, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I overreacted.” He lifts you up, cradling and carrying you bridal style to the living room. He sets you down on the couch and keeps his coat wrapped around you since you don’t want to let it go. Taking a few deep breaths, making sure he is calmed down, he goes into the kitchen and quickly closes the dishwasher back up, deciding he will do it later.

He spends the rest of the day keeping a close eye on you and making sure you’re ok. He checks your blood pressure, checks your heart rate. He makes you tea then orders dinner from your favorite take out restaurant. You guys have a peaceful night, staying in each others arms, feeding each other and talking. When you fall asleep with your head in his lap, he carries you to the bedroom and carefully puts you in your pajamas, tucks you into bed, then gets in besides you, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses his forehead and whispers he loves you, and that he’ll always look out for you.

~~~

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Inferius.  Part 2: St Mungos (2nd August 2017)

Padma:There was a steady thrum of pain behind Padma's forehead, as she waved an engorgio spell over the samples of blood. She couldn't believe what she had found, so had to triple check it before she passed any information on to Albus and Aldora's parents. Working as a healer was Padma's passion and a profession that she found fascinating, but right now she felt nothing but tension and stress. It had been a long few days to say the least and the fact that she was treating her close friends' and a pair of former Slytherin's children, the pressure was starting to get to her, let alone the exhaustion. She glanced up at the clock and bit her lip, knowing she was behind, but as she waved a final incantation over the samples, her eyes widened and she let out a short gasp. She snatched up her clipboard and ran out into the corridor, heading to the paediatric ward.

 Daphne: After just arriving in the paediatric ward of St Mungo, a large buttered cappuccino in her hand, Daphne was clueless as to which direction to head in. She had originally headed to the hospital to see Padma, however at the request of her younger sister, Daphne had been asked to stick around and pressure the healers and mediwitches for information about Aldora.

Spotting Padma further along the corridor, Daphne began to follow. "Padma..." She shouted after her, not waiting for an answer before trying to get her attention again. "Padma!"

 Padma: Padma skidded to a halt as she was about to fly round a corner to another corridor. "Daphne!" She beamed, and scurried quickly over to her. Their online conversations had been friendly, although the two witches hadn't actually conversed properly in person, Padma was happy to see her and the large steaming coffee in her hand. "You are far too kind" she said, gesturing to the coffee. "I don't think I've slept properly for the past three days...not that it matters" she stumbled "I just want the answers as much as anyone else"

 Daphne: "You're doing me a favour, so bringing you coffee is the least I can do." Daphne held the cup out to Padma, smiling at her. "Are you heading to the ward? I'm supposed to be helping Astoria find out what's going on?"

 Padma: She took the cup carefully from Daphne and took a sip straight away, not caring about the harsh scold of the coffee, but savouring the buttery taste. Her eyes widened as Daphne mentioned Astoria and she snapped back into action, waving her clipboard. "Yes. You can come with me if you like? I'll show you the way." She paused for a moment and said quietly "I think I know what it is... it's... it's so ridiculous and you might think I'm crazy but I swear the results are showing it as true..."

 Harry: Round the corner a tense Harry Potter stood pacing outside the room where his son lay inside, purple and raging with blistering welts. He felt guilty, like it was his fault almost for Albus getting ill, but mostly he felt entirely helpless, not knowing what to do. He had to get Ron to frogmarch Ginny out of the hospital to go home and get some rest. The worry hadn't done her any favours and she looked like the living dead. He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation as he continued to pace. 'I think I know what it is...' he heard a voice say. "Padma" he whispered, before darting down the corridor and turning the corner to see her standing there, coffee cup in hand and a worried expression on her face as she chatted to Daphne Greengrass. "What is it?" He exclaimed "Padma, tell me what's wrong!"

 Astoria: Astoria hurriedly cast a charm over herself as she half ran into the pediatric ward. In an attempt to rid herself of the smell of drink and smoke, it now lingered under the sent of fried mushrooms. Her head was too chaotic to give the spell the attention it needed as she cast. Her shoes tapped heavily on the polished floor, while she tried to remember the way to her daughters bed. As she turned the corner, her shoes squeaked as she came to a halt. A short distance away she spotted them and her heart sank. Frozen for a moment before taking a breath, she strode through the hallway, pushing her sister aside with her hand. “Well?”

 Daphne: A crowd of concerned parents had began to gather around them. Harry had heard Padma's voice and swiftly joined them to ask what was wrong with his son, and Daphne smelled her absent sister before she heard or saw her join them in the corridor. Excuse you." Daphne spat at Astoria, pushing herself back into the conversation. "Both you and your attitude stink. At least I was here to try and find out what's going on with Aldora." It made Daphne's blood boil that her younger sister thought it was so easy to push her aside. She might not have been a parent, but Astoria had asked her to be there, and she still cared for her niece.

 Astoria: Astoria turned sharply to her sister, glaring at her as she spoke through gritted teeth. "Do not test me right now, Daphne." She knew she owed a lot to her sister for this and for all the times she had left Aldora in her care but thanks was the furthest thing from her mind. Her attention moved quickly to Padma, "tell me you know what's wrong with her! She's been here for over a day now and if you were doing your job correctly, all of this children would be at home!"

 Harry: Harry watched as the confrontation unfolded in front of him. He wanted answers as much as Astoria did, but nobody spoke to his friend like that. "Hey, watch your mouth, would you?" He snapped at her "You don't see me or any of these other people shouting at Padma or the other staff, do you? Of course she's doing her job correctly, otherwise our children wouldn't be stable and we would all probably be attending funerals by now, so shut. Up." He paused and breathed for a moment, calming himself down before turning to Padma.. "So... what were you about to tell Daphne, before we were so rudely interrupted?"

 Padma: Padma's knuckles had gone white from where she'd been gripping her clipboard so hard. All eyes pointed in her direction and she gulped with anxiety before clearing her throat and holding the coffee cup out to Daphne. "Daph.. would you mind while I..?" And she thanked the eldest Greengrass as she kindly took the cup from her grasp. She took a deep breath in and raised her head, pulling her shoulders back to address the small crowd that had formed around her. "So..." she began "I'm so sorry that it's taken so long to give you answers. I can imagine how frustrated you've been feeling..." she glanced around the group, looking at everyone with huge apologetic eyes. "All of our first tests came back inconclusive and all of the charms we tried performing backfired with little working or making a huge amount of difference. But with the blood samples I have managed to make a breakthrough.. a very unusual one that you might not believe, but I am adamant is true. I know what it is..."

 Blaise: Blaise had spent the better part of his time fighting his way into his daughter's room, and once he had finally managed to successfully get there, he had spent all the time possible. Ever since his daughter was born, he found his life, and the way he used to view things, constantly changing. It was no longer all about him. It never would be again. When Aldora finally fell asleep once more, he got up to stretch his legs and get a cup of coffee. He was on his way back when he saw the congregation. He hesitated, wanting nothing more to go back to his daughter, but when he heard the last few words of Padma's, it sent him directly to the group. "What is it?" He asked her. The man was exhausted and stressed and was still upset enough with Astoria he wouldn't even look at her.

 Padma: Padma looked over to Blaise as he approached the group and nodded in acknowledgement before continuing... "What I found in the children's bloodstream is Peruvian Vipertooth venom, which causes dragon pox." Padma ensured that she spoke slowly and articulately so that everyone could hear. "Now, this would explain the change of skin colour and welts, however dragonpox usually turns the patient predominantly green, not purple." She took a moment to refer to her notes and clear her throat once more... "Not only was the venom in the bloodstream, but the appearance of the venom was different to what I've usually seen, like it had almost curdled? So I did a further breakdown of the cells using a few muggle techniques and found that the blood also tested positive for one thing, something I wasn't expecting to see... a muggle drug called heroin. I don't know how or where these children have managed to ingest this kind of thing, but I looked it up and there is a new psychedelic drug being sold on the Wizarding black market called 'Inferius'. It sends the user into a zombie like state and gives hallucinations. But this particular batch had bad viper venom in it, thus being particularly deadly and if injected into the vein would have caused immediate death."

 Astoria: Astoria listened intently to every word that came out of Padma's mouth, not noticing that Blaise had joined them. Her heart in her throat, and stomach threatening to empty itself, her voice cracked. "How did my child get that in her system?"

 Padma: Padma was taken aback by Astoria's unusually quiet tone. "I don't know. But what I do know is that the likelihood is that it was inhaled, hence why they are only severely sick. Dragon Pox as you know is quick to manifest in young children and the elderly, but because of the curdling it was sped up. As soon as I make an antidote for the sickness I will also have to make an injection for those who have been in direct contact with your child whilst they have been ill. As you know we have kept the children in quarantine bubble charms, but we cannot take any risks." She paused for a moment to let it sink in, giving a reassuring but timid smile before turning to Harry. "We need to find out how this happened."

 Harry: Harry nodded in agreement before turning to address the group. "I will have my team come in and take statements from you all individually from the time that your children first showed any symptoms and also about their whereabouts over the weekend. I think we can all agree that the past few days have been a living nightmare and that we can all thank Miss Patil and her team for all of their hard work during this crucial time."

He looked at Padma thankfully before addressing the crowd once more... "I'd also like to promise each and everyone of you here, that my team and I WILL find whoever is selling this awful drug and also whoever is supplying it." He took a long look at each member of the group, pausing momentarily on Astoria. "I'll make sure that justice is served to them"

 Daphne: Daphne was overwhelmed by the information they had just received, as this was not at all what she had expected. "It's all well and good us talking about taking statements, but no one has actually asked if either of these children will be okay and if they're going to make a full recovery." Although she was more than willing to recount every hour of the last few days to try and help, she knew there wouldn't be much in her statement to help. Her mind was going into overdrive. "And what about everyone that's not here right now that has been in contact with Albus and Aldora? There are going to be a lot more people that need that injection than just us, right? Is there going to be enough?"

 Blaise: "Are they going to be okay and make a full recovery?" Blaise asked, stepping closer to Padma. He was grateful; that was an understatement, for the care she had given not only Aldora, but Albus as well. He was just still too flustered and upset to think about voicing that yet. "And how the hell would they have gotten into contact with heroin?"

 Astoria: Her eyes widened as Astoria noticed Blaise was standing with them. But avoided eye contact with him, turning slowly to Harry before directing her question at Padma. "How long will it take you to make this antidote?"

 Blaise: Blaise glanced at Astoria, but made no move to go closer to her or even to really speak with her. He decided against his coffee, mainly because his hands were shaking so horribly he doubted he could manage to drink it when if he thought he could stomach it.

 Padma: Padma watched the parents, as they all moved closer to her. She wanted to take a step back at the overwhelming sensation that began to seep over her, yet kept her feet fully planted on the floor. "I have the ingredients to an antidote, I just need to go to the lab and mix it. It's basically a dragon pox antidote with a magical remedy that counteracts the muggle drug. Because this is a brand new case, I can't tell one hundred percent how it will work, but myself and my team are positive that it'll work, as the children's symptoms are very similar to dragon pox." Padma paused and took a deep breath before looking up at Daphne. "In terms of the injection, we will be administering it to the parents and guardians and any young children or elderly in the family to be safe. We will also send out a widespread message with the symptoms and to bring whoever may present these symptoms straight to St Mungo's where we can treat them swiftly and accordingly" Finally, she turned to Blaise "As for how they came into contact with the Inferius... I can't answer that as I don't know. However the fact that all of you brought your children in within the same 24 hours makes me wonder whether it was a location that you've all taken your children to, where they could have inhaled the fumes?"

 Daphne: Daphne had only had Aldora in her care couple times recently. The last time she had looked after her, she was already sick, and the time before that she had done all she could to entertain the girl. "How recently could this have happened? Because I know that before Aldora was ill, my husband and I had her overnight, and the following day we took her for lunch and to a play centre, but this was all last week."

 Harry: Harry's ear pricked at the mention of a play centre and he could see the other parents' thoughts buzzing in their heads to try and remember where they had taken their children over the weekend. Ginny had taken Albus to Happy Hippogriffs on Saturday, the day before he'd started to fall ill. "Which play centre did you go to?" He asked, stepping forward. "Ginny took Albus to one over the weekend"

 Daphne: Daphne had to think about the name of the play centre. It had been Cormac's idea to take her there and Aldora had practically bounced the entire way after they asked her if she wanted to go. "The place has a creature in its name. Like Griffin or Hippogriff or something."

 Harry:Harry's heart began to beat a little bit faster... "Was it Happy Hippogriffs by any chance?" he asked. He glanced around the group and he could see that a few parents' eyes were wider than before and some were furiously muttering to one another in recognition of the name.

 Daphne: "That's the one." Daphne said, nodding at what Harry had said. "It seemed like a nice place at the time."

 Astoria: Astoria turned sharply to face her sister, glaring at her. "You did this to her? You took her to that disgusting place full of other people's children!"

 Blaise: Blaise stepped forward, towards Astoria. "I've taken her there before," he frowned. "She can't live in a bubble, she has friends, it happens. Maybe she got sick from me taking her. It happens. Things happen. She's not to blame."

 Astoria: She didn't move to look at him, she just huffed and looked to Padma "Just do what you need to do. And Potter, figure this out quickly. Before I start calling for your job." She didn't wait for a response. Instead she turned around and began heading down the corridor to find her daughter.

 Padma: Padma watched as she left before turning to the rest of the crowd "I'm going to brew the antidote now. It shouldn't take more than an hour. If you have any questions at all please don't hesitate to contact one of my colleagues. I'm so sorry that you've all had to wait so long..." she nodded and smiled softly at everyone, lingering on Harry, Blaise and Daphne... "I'll catch up with you soon, thanks so much for the coffee" she said quietly to Daphne, before shuffling around the group and heading off quickly down the hall.

  Blaise: "Thank you," Blaise nodded. "Your efforts have been appreciated and have not gone unnoticed," he told Padma, before she departed. He sighed and rubbed his face once she left, before he nodded at both Harry and Daphne and then made his way down the hall after Astoria, towards their daughter.

 Harry:Harry responded warmly to Padma's nod and smile and watched her disappear, so grateful that she had a cure. He turned to the others.. "You all get back to your children. My team will be in within the next 24 hours to take statements from all of you and get a proper investigation launched. Rest assured I will find out what happened. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be getting back to my son." He smiled and turned on his heel, looking forward to the prospect of being able to hug his son once again.

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[everythingisbetterwithpirates]

Reality

It all began with a letter, hand delivered to Ryss by one of the Captains in the Shipping Company fleet. It read as follows:

“Miss Sparrow, I write with the intent purpose of asking you for a favor. I realize it is an odd request, but it is the only viable solution to my predicament. I told a friend I would set him up on a small date to celebrate his birthday since he is recently divorced. What he doesn't know is that we are all going to throw him a party on one of the Company ships. The girl who was set to be his date cancelled and I cannot find any other replacement. He is a lively man, but one that is, for the most part, a gentleman. Plus, I warned him of what would happen should he try to get too frisky.

Please meet a blond, blue eyed man named George at the center of Lion's Rest tonight at around seven in the evening. He will be the one in the red shirt and brown pants. Just look for the most charming smile in the world and you will find him. I promise to make it up to you however I possibly can. Gods, I'll do the impossible too. Since the party will take place at sea, I will need him to come down to the docks. There will be a small vessel at the very last dock. It is black with golden stripes.

At seven fifteen, you will tell him you have forgotten something at your place. I told him you were visiting and are currently sleeping in your ship. Keep talking to him and have him follow you into the room located inside, to the left. Once he is inside, lure him away from the door so that we may all surprise him."

                                                             M. Grimwald

The orders had been simple. To eliminate George by quiet and conventional means. Margharette stressed her plan with the goal of obtained smooth and productive results. However, this would serve a greater purpose. Though the last 'adventure' had been in the open world and with members of the Horde, Lakryss displayed levels of anxiety which were worrisome to Margharette. The former pirate had a soft spot for Ryss given her easygoing and amiable nature. Any who behaved like civilized people were treated as such and Sparrow was definitely in that category. However, as Marge lurked in the shadows in a corner beneath the stairs of this exclusive ship, she wondered on events to come...

{ Excerpt from Marge’s journal }

"Initially, I had planned to find an immoral wench whose priority was to get paid. It would mean a possible loose end, but given the success of previous expeditions, I felt confident in taking the risk. Those plans fell through and I had to improvise and in turn, take an even bigger jump. I chose Lakryss because she has the capability of being both charming 'and' intellectual. Someone who can easily hide in a crowd but still be found. Darling enough to hold a man's attention but not with obvious tactics. Someone who had no idea of what was going on.

As I stood in wait for Ryss and George, I felt a pang of guilt. This was a nice lady who had done no wrong. A true innocent in the eyes of the law and otherwise. I thought about pulling her out of the room the moment I put the barrel of my gun to George's head. That it would somehow lessen the blow -- but that was not the point of using 'her' for this. If I didn't break her in now, someone else would. Someone who might not give a damn about whether she lived or died in the process. With her tea shoppe flourishing and the city life continuing to be as hectic as always, I believe it was only a matter of time before Ryss found herself in a predicament of morals, values and survival. Might as well go through it with someone in her corner should the fight prove to be too brutal. I didn't pull her out -- not without an explanation."

The surprise party that had been waiting for the pair was quite different from what Marge had described in her letter. As soon as Lakryss convinced the man to step through the door and enter the small and cozy room, Margharette stepped in and revealed the true nature of this gathering. The small vessel required a minimal crew. The five other men who had been waiting in hiding for the signal to be given now untied the boat and set sail into the night. With her revolver aimed at the back of George's head, the party continued. Ryss had done a marvelous job at not cowering in the corner like a rat. She hadn't even screamed.

Margharette's smile lingered for a few moments after Lakryss took a seat, her expression soon replaced by serenity. The thought of screaming had been of great interest to George, but the man was too preoccupied with trying to not throw up all over himself. His charming facade was nowhere to be seen, only the fear in his eyes. He gagged a couple of times and even began to hyperventilate. "Let me begin by apologizing for luring you here under false pretenses, Lakryss. It wasn't an easy choice but I believe in my heart that it was the right one." Margharette softly spoke over her shoulder, keeping her gaze locked on George. Her free hand began to pat the man's sides and legs, looking for items that may be used to bring harm to others and discarding those of sentimental or trivial value.

The boat was quick to depart. Each small wave brought sway to the floor and Margharette eventually moved to sit behind the desk on the dark, leather chair. The curling arm rests hosted a wide variety of detail ranging from the floral to the abstract. A blade had been cast aside, along with a wallet and a small sack of coins. After pulling her chair, Margharette's left elbow came to rest on the wooden surface of the desk, revolver aiming at the side of George's head. "Are you here to kill me?" The man quietly asked, his gaze searching for Ryss' own. Silently, he pleaded for help, tightly gripping the arm rests of his own chair. Marge looked away from the woman to focus on George again, the corners of her lips curling upwards with a twisted grin.

"I am, George." Margharette reached under the desk, pulling a mug of coffee from a hidden nook and dipping the tip her finger to test it's warmth once the glove was pulled off by her teeth. "You've none other to blame but yourself." Marge quipped before licking her finger, pleased with the drink's temperature.

Meanwhile...

Ryss felt her stomach turning over...she had hoped, no she had prayed that she wouldn't again find herself in a situation like this. The first time had been lawful or so she kept telling herself. They 'd gone after an escaped criminal...he'd needed to be taken back in....but George...to Lakryss this man was innocent bystander. She didn't even know why Marge was doing any of this. Her lips parted to speak but nothing came out as she still refused to look up, her eyes on the wooden floor beneath her feet. Everything about her body language was an apology, she hadn't meant to play a hand in any of this...she had done this all to help, not to kill.

Without any help from Lakryss, George soon began to feel the ache of despair. His knuckles had grown white from the tense hold on the chair. Above them, the sound of something heavy and large being dragged along the deck could be heard. "I won't tell! I p-promise!" George spoke with more life in his tone. He was entering the bargaining stage of his fate. "I swear by my son's lives I won't tell a single soul!" he continued. Margharette shook her head and gripped the handle of her mug, finger grazing along the trigger. "No, Mister MacMiller. I am afraid that is no longer an option. You had the chance to do the right thing and inform the authorities, but instead chose to use your knowledge as leverage against the Company. A grievous offense against your alleged character."

After a long drink from her mug, Marge shivered and turned to look to Ryss, expression softening. "Miss Sparrow. As you are aware, the Company has many legitimate business transactions. It also deals with the illegitimate. As a maker and creator of herbal teas, you are well aware of the vices and aches people of all races suffer from on a daily basis. How the needs of the many can be satisfied by the demands of the few. Our darling boy George found a shipment of drugs that was misplaced and said he would alert the authorities if we did not give him three thousand gold." Her gaze shifted back to George who was visibly cringing. "You lost the highground the moment you decided to blackmail Mister Hudson,  darling." As if to drive her point further, Marge roughly jabbed the revolver against his head, causing it to tilt. "Then again, you wife left you because you beat her. I am not surprised you'd dip your toes into such insidious waters."

For Lakryss, the words all swarmed around like a deafening roar...even if everyone was speaking in a normal tone, the mans sniveling attempts at saving his own life finally spoke Lakryss to speak, if only to keep herself from bursting at the seems. She finally lifted her gaze, eyes opening as she looked to Marge, not even seeing George in that moment as he was already dead. She knew that. No amount of pleading or bargaining would save him from what was coming. "Marge...Ms. Grimwald please....I don't want to see this...I don't want to know this..." Her own voice shook, her hands nearly tearing at the bed spread as she stood up and looked to the door. "I'd like to step outside."

Marge's gaze met Ryss' own, steady and locked in place as she listened and processed the information being given. It was the reaction she expected, but still stirred something in Marge's heart. "Not before you understand why you out of all people are here." was her soft spoken response before taking another long sip from her cup of coffee. A thoughtful and heavy silence settled over Marge, the woman turning to look away and studying the view through the windows. The lights from the city were beginning to disappear, meaning they had created enough distance. The moment of truth was fast approaching. "You were given a taste of violence recently. One that left you shaken."

Her gaze snapped back to Ryss in full force. "A natural reaction from a gentle person such as yourself, but one that could be detrimental to your health. This Company caters to many fields and there will always be competition. Some will try to reach victory through numbers and others such as this fellow.." Again her finger grazed along the trigger of her weapon. ".. Who will succumb to less desirable means of weakening or obstructing our business. Your honesty will -always- be appreciated, but so will your silence. You will see horrible things in this world, Lakryss." Marge leaned against the back of her chair, the cup held in the air in front of her and the left arm extending to adjust her aim and keep it true. "I will not dare kill anyone in front of you, Ryss. Not unless it's your neck I am trying to save, or that of someone who has a neck worth saving. And when you walk out of this door, you will be faced with two options. You can either return and tell someone, or you can return and take a long, relaxing bubble bath. Keep in mind.."

The cup was moved closer to her lips. "You were the last person seen with George. If you go tell someone he's dead, you'd be the first suspect. In fact, I believe there is written evidence of your plans to meet him? And of mine to throw him a surprise birthday party to which he never arrived." Margharette drank, the mug almost empty. "However, this is not a path I wish to take. What happened here tonight does not mean I will ask you to kill, but.. If I say duck, I need you to duck. If I tell you to look the other way, I need you to do that too. In time you will see that blood is only spilled when it is warranted, Miss Sparrow. Nothing more. Nothing less. Business will business."

It was then that Lakryss stepped out of the room, leaving George to face his fears in solitude. Margharette finished her cup of coffee, setting the mug on the desk once the door was closed. "You play the part of a sniveling weasel very well, George." she mused before standing and making her way around the desk. Through her motions, her gun was kept aimed at the man, leaving no room for escape. "W-What?" he mumbled, his beautiful blue eyes lifting and meeting Margharette's own. "You're not going to kill me?" George asked with a quivering lip, a faint shimmer of hope appearing in his expression. 

"Oh, that reminds me."

{ OOC NOTE: Created in part with posts from actual, in game rp. }

@lakryss-sparrow 

[ladydracarysao3]

In Love, Serenity  

Chapter Twenty Two: The Fear of Death is in Your Eyes It’s Hand is Upon Your Throat

Summary What do you mean Aurora is going to the Western Approach? That's a preposterous notion, there's not reason for her to go there - Aurora does not fight.

[Read Chapter 22 on AO3]  or  [Start from the Beginning]

-Aurora-

“Rory, dear! I have news!” Dorian soars around the circled walkway that curves around the library level in the rotunda’s tower.

Brimming with excitement, he seats himself across from the blonde mage at the wooden table where she is working. She only glances at him from her tome, continuing her reading as he sits. The curls of his mustache dance as he smiles at her. He follows it with an attempt at feigned seriousness, only to quickly give up and beam a toothy grin at her again. His grey-green eyes sparkle with the light glowing from dripping, low candles on the table that surround Aurora and her work.

He impatiently waits for her to fully divert her attention from the tome in her hands. Aurora’s frequent glances from the words in front of her - switching to him briefly, and then back down to the tome - does not seem to be the quality of focus he wishes to have. He strums and drums his fingers on the wooden surface of the table, shifting in his seat with agitation.

Aurora has been sitting at this table for hours. She rose before dawn to frantically read a tome on the history of the Grey Wardens. Fiercely attempting to finish a report of any and all information she can find that could potentially aid the Inquisitor in the Western Approach. They need to know if the wardens have ever been desperate enough to try blood rituals before, or possibly work with demons. However, the order is so tight lipped with its secrets, that she cannot find anything pertaining to magical rituals… in any capacity. She knows they preform rituals, she’s heard this from Alistair himself, but she is coming up completely empty. The frustration this fact mounts within her knows no bounds. She wonders how Thedas has allowed this order to operate virtually unchecked for centuries. Especially since as a circle mage, Aurora’s entire life was built on nothing but restrictions and suspicions. How is it okay for an entire order to be shrouded in so much mystery?

The mage across from her lets out a pained huff, begging for her attention. “Dorian, I’m a bit busy,” she says flatly. Dorian insisted on endearing himself to her. Aurora resists much less as the days pass. She even finds herself, at times, amused by his ostentatious demeanor. She smirks to herself as her eyes scan the words in the tome, listening to him whine and grunt with exasperation.

He finally abandons all hope for her unhindered attention, and begins to speak. His words singing in a higher tone than usual, as he bounces in his seat and grips the table, “Yes, well… you can bring it along, I suppose, but now you need to pack!” He halts his bouncing and grins proudly, beaming in self-satisfaction as he crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

Aurora looks up from her work, just long enough to sneer. Has he gone mad? Well, madder than normal? “Excuse me?” she says, staring at him through her lashes as she hunches over her work.

“You’re coming to the Western Approach, of course. We leave in the morning,” he purrs with nonchalance, haughtily inspecting his fingernails in the warm candlelight.

Aurora gasps incredulously, “What?” He certainly has her full attention now, bringing Aurora to an upright position in her chair. What he said can’t be right. “I am not going there. I am not a fighter!”

“Oh please, do drop the act, Aurora. You do know I can sense your power.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table, an impertinent stare and a mischievous grin directed at her. Aurora feels tendrils of his aura pulse through her, probing for her energy. Indignantly, she pushes him out of her with a thrust of her magic.

“It is rude to go snooping around inside another mage, Vint,” Aurora sneers.

“Oh back to that now, are we? And we made such progress.” He rolls his eyes with a sigh and leans back in his chair. “Fine, my dear. If you insist on being stubborn about this, go ahead. But the fact remains that the Inquisitor is expecting you, and has placed you under my charge. You are going, like it or not.” He wears a serious, smug expression that Aurora would like to slap right off his face.

She balls her fists and glares at the obnoxious, audacious ass sitting across from her. Dorian oozes pretention into the library, amused by Aurora’s flare-up. He rises dismissively from his seat. “You will need to go see a requisition officer right away about obtaining proper mage armor for battle… and an appropriate staff.” His eyes rake over her, so very proud of himself. Winking and twiddling his fingers at her, he turns to leave.

Damn it. Damn it all to the void.            

Aurora does what is expected of her, however unhappily. She works her way through the keep, securing herself with proper gear through the requisition officer, and packing a ruck sack of essentials. All the while, dread mounts in her belly as she fears what could happen in the field. She tries her best not to think of it. Perhaps she will be able to stay inside Griffon Wing Keep the entire time. Perhaps the trip there and back will be uneventful. Perhaps she will never have to use her power. Yes, Aurora should hope for that, and try her best not to think of the alternative.

Then there is the issue of Delrin.

A pit in her stomach forms as she approaches the Templar tower. She climbs the stairs of the tower toward the room she knows holds her Knight. Upon reaching Delrin’s office, she knocks on its closed door with a soft, shy rap of her knuckles. She waits patiently until she hears him call out for her to enter.

Bashfully, Aurora slowly creaks the door open and pokes her head inside. Delrin is sitting at his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. He holds some kind of report below his shrewd stare. A sternly lined brow creases his forehead, lips pursed in a straight line. His shoulders look heavy, his eyes, labored. He brings a hand to his temple and rubs it with his thumb, implying he must have a headache from all of the stress and endless work he has been doing lately.

He looks up from his paper work to find Aurora’s sheepish half smile and hopeful eyes peering at him from around the heavy, thick wood of his office door. He beams immediately upon seeing her, grinning ear-to-ear, eyes growing large with enthusiasm. “Aurora, what a pleasant surprise,” he rises from his chair and gestures for her to enter the room fully.

Softly, she steps into the room. “Am I intruding? You look busy…” She fidgets with her fingernails, bites at the inside of her lip, and darts her eyes shyly to the floor, “Should I return later?”

“Nonsense, I always have time for you. You are a welcomed diversion, in fact.” He briskly walks around his desk and takes her hand. Locking his beautiful, sparkling-green eyes with hers, he bows before her and presses a kiss to her knuckles. The pillowy softness of his lips shoots a spark of excitement from her hand to her gut, her heart bursts into a shower of confetti.

It has been a few days since the night in the tavern, when Aurora dared to dream for a future with Delrin. She is still nervous about his affections, but they discussed it and decided to take this budding relationship slowly. The chaste pace is helping Aurora ease into the newness of it all. Her anxiety has been gradually relaxing, and Delrin has been so very respectful of her reservations. While she can no longer deny the attraction she has towards the man, the magic between them, they still barely know each other. And so, they agreed to take their courtship slow - they have yet to even fully kiss.

As business with restoring the order grows deeper and more involved, Delrin finds himself more and more swamped with work. Often he can be found staying in his office late into the night, only to return early the next morning. He practices a diligence to his work that could only be matched by Commander Cullen’s.

When Delrin and Aurora are able to spend time together, it is mostly in stolen moments like this, allowing for the temperance of this newly budding relationship to remain pure. Likewise, his undisputable sweetness is too lovely for Aurora to want to rush. Instead, she wishes to revel in the innocence of their affinity for as long as she can. The only real relationship she’s ever been in was not only a decade long, but began under such darker, seedier circumstances. It is comforting to be treated so preciously by this man. Delrin inspires benevolence. He is a true gentleman. She cannot deny how much she enjoys the feeling of butterflies soaring inside her whenever he looks in her direction. Everything is so new. So charming. So pure.

“How are you today, my fair-haired beauty?” He rises from his bow and lightly squeezes her hand before releasing it. The wrinkles in his forehead that were earlier deep and tense, are now barely visible. The slightest of upturns graces his lips. His eyes sparkle like bright gemstones.

Aurora wants to reach out and touch his full lips, to coax them apart. Run her fingers adoringly down the side of his face, trace and map his features. She wants to soothe the crow’s feet developing by his eyes, stretching toward his temples. Repair the tired sag below the emerald rifts into his soul, where his exhaustion is visibly displayed.  She wants to kiss each spot, lightly, to ease his stress. But her heart rate quickens and she feels the onset of panic. She’s not ready to be so free. Even with him. But she is confident she will get there.

Gazing at his face, she wants to keep the memory of it with her always. She then remembers what brought her to his office in the first place. The realization causes her to fidget with her nails again. Drooping her head, she stares at the floor, frowning. “I… I have some news… It seems… I am being taken from Skyhold. I don’t know how long.”

Just as she was beginning to chase the dream of happiness, the Inquisition decides to rip her from its walls, only to throw her into the chaos of the outside world. This is not what Aurora signed up for.

With empathy, he hushes his tone and lightly clutches her shoulders, effectively raising Aurora’s eyes back to his. “Ah, I see. Has the Inquisitor requested your presence in Griffon Wing Keep?” With a subtle, silent nod from the mage, he brings her into an embrace. Wrapping her in his arms, he lets out a sigh into her hair before giving the top of her head a soft kiss.

“I’m not sure why I am being dragged along. I’m no fighter, Delrin.” She sighs into his breastplate, the humid heat of her breath causes the metal to fog. She smirks and draws a fast little heart in the mist with her fingertip, and just as quickly smears it away.

“I am sure the Herald has her reasons. I will pray to Andraste every night while you are gone.” He sighs into the top her head again. “At least I know you will be kept safe. The best fighters in Skyhold will be in your company.”

“I…” her words hitch as heat spreads across her cheeks and to her ears. Closing her eyes, Aurora takes a deep breath and clutches his armor, “I will miss you.”

He squeezes her gently, places another kiss on the top on her head. “As will I, Aurora.” A soft and low chuckle rumbles on the other side of his breastplate. “I will be here, impatiently awaiting your safe return.”

They stand there in a warm embrace, silent, for minutes. Aurora listens to his steady breathing, almost feeling as if she could drift asleep. Reluctantly, she pulls away. He needs to get back to work, as does she. Aurora still needs to ensure she has a horse secured for her travels.

With the shyness of a girl decades younger, Aurora says her goodbyes to her Knight, and tip-toes out of the room. She slinks out of the tower into the brisk night air. The entire day flew by in what felt like in instant. Hopefully, Horsemaster Dennet or a stable hand still works with the horses. Otherwise, Aurora will have to wake extra early in order to secure her horse before departure.

As she softly pads up to the stables, she tries not to think about what could happen on her journey. Instead, she focuses on day dreaming about the lovely man who has captured her heart. She smiles to herself as she sways and twirls toward the stables, as if a song carries her footsteps. Blissful, she pays no attention to the fact that she is being followed. Or that the lurker is malicious and waiting for the opportunity to catch her off guard, without a soul around to see them.

Approaching the back entrance of the stables, a gauntleted hand grabs her arm roughly. Another covers her mouth as she starts to scream in surprise. The lurker throws her against the walls of the battlements that lie directly behind the stables. Aurora’s head smacks into the stone making her dazed, and blurring her vision. Rubbing her head, she focuses her eyes on the form looming in front of her.

“I know what you’re doing, spellbind,” a man’s voice sneers. She knows that voice. That is the lout that assaulted her the day Delrin was made Knight-Commander.

“Excuse me?” Aurora glares at his dark, silhouetted figure. He managed to shove them into the shadows. The late evening hour is sparse of people, most are in bed, or in the tavern far across the castle grounds.

He looms closer to her, trapping Aurora against the wall. “You are bewitching our Kinght-Commander. I am on to you, you slag.” He is close enough that she smells the brewery he has apparently been bathing in this evening. Aurora turns her nose up and to the side, he smells disgusting.

“You think you’re somethin’ special, don’t you, whore?” He spits at their feet. If she had any doubts before about who this is, she certainly doesn’t now. He is just as revolting as ever.

In a low growl, Aurora warns the man, “Get. Away. From me.” She has no patience for this thug and his assumptions, but tries to still her temper. She cannot chance someone seeing her if she were to unleash upon him. She can’t deal with the consequences of hurting him, he just needs to leave.

He takes another step closer, the literal opposite of her command. He leans down to get in her face. The pungent aroma of his person makes her want to gag. He speaks slow and menacingly, “Or… what?”

Aurora can’t take this anymore. Maybe just a little push? Nothing too forceful, nothing too painful. Just enough to get him away…

She breathes deeply to steady her heart and calls upon the vitality in the fade to form a fist in the air. The invisible ball of energy forms easily. She focuses her strength so that she doesn’t push too hard, just enough to warn him again. She glares up at his stinking form and shouts, “Go away!” Aurora forces the fist violently into his gut, effectively flinging him a good ten meters back. He stumbles and falls to the muddy ground.

As he stands to his feet he growls and grunts. Reaching a hand out toward her, she suddenly feels pain coursing through her body.  Trembling, choked screams tear from her throat, and Aurora falls to her knees. She had hoped that with his level of intoxication, he would perhaps not be able to effectively use his Templar abilities.

She was wrong.

He shakes rage and glares, taking slow, methodical steps back to her. As he purges and suppresses her energy, the pain is undeniable. It feels as if the essence of her is being ripped down and out of her body. The energy tries to cling to her, gripping at her with claws, raking those claws throughout her insides. She has never gone through a purge so long and excruciating. She chokes on pained and hoarse screams as he slowly approaches.

Aurora may have to kill this man to save herself. If she does, she will have to leave Skyhold immediately. She will have to run. There is no way they will not kill her, or not make her tranquil if she kills this man. But the agony is almost too much to bear, and if she doesn’t kill this Templar, he s going kill her. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Aurora focuses on what power remains, calling upon it to save her. She will never see Delrin again. She was a fool to believe she could have a future in this world.

She concentrates through the pain, her will to survive stronger than this Templar could know. A sudden gust of wind surges back into her, her energy overpowering his purge and returning home. The surge dazes her slightly as she is made whole again. The burst sends her backwards, she teeters back from her knees and she knocks into the stone wall behind her.

Unexpectedly, Templar stops his purge and he yowls in pain. Aurora stiffens, greatly confused, as she has yet cast a spell - and if she had, he would be dead. Not yelling in pain as he drops to his knees.

A glint of stray light catches her eye. There is a dagger sticking out of his arm. The arm that had been stretched out to her while he was advancing, purging her body of energy. That arm is still outstretched, but with a long thin dagger pierced through the leather covering the man’s elbow. It was thrown so expertly, with such force, that it pierced completely through his arm, the point of it sticking out the other side. Aurora stares with sick satisfaction, fascinated as his blood flows out of his arm, drips across the dagger, and falls to the ground.

A woman jumps the wooden gate of the stables. As swift as lightening, she runs up to the Templar, placing another dagger at his neck. “The fuck you think you’re doing?” she growls at him. Aurora’s attacker only grunts and cries out in pain. He clutches his arm, keeping it straight, unable to bend it due to the position of the blade.

Another figure exits the stables, this time by opening the gate, rather than jumping it. Aurora squints at him, he looks familiar. She recognizes the tall, broad man with shoulder-length, auburn hair and matching beard, as the Champion of Kirkwall, Rhaegar Hawke. The Champion saunters up to the woman and Aurora’s attacker. His arms crossed, a pleased grin on his face… and… hay in his hair? He looks at the display with a crooked brow and matching crooked smile. He hums a low, amused laugh, circling the scene so that he and the woman are flanking the Templar.

The woman does not move, poised like a stone statue, pressing her dagger firmly against the Templar’s throat. Aurora cannot see her face, as the woman’s back is to her - only a partial profile visible as she glares down at the man. She looks wild. Her hair is coiled, chasind looking, and pulled back into some kind of knot. A few stray tendrils have fallen from the knot and swing at the side of her face - the only movement over her entire figure.

She is petite and slender, but surprisingly large muscles bulge from the tensed arm holding the dagger. Black bands are tattooed across her skin. A simple, light colored tunic hangs from her shoulders above her tight, black leather leggings. She has no boots - her feet, bare - toes gripping the earth. Why was she in the stables barefoot?

She peers over her shoulder at Aurora just enough for a glance and to say, “You alright?”

Expression wide-eyed, still in shock and unsure of what any of this means, Aurora stammers in response, “Yes… I… I think so…”

[elanorpam]

reblogging this again with the tags because i love them but they don't show up in the notes for some reason:

#listen im not saying that ive spent a cumulative half a year reading this fic and then trying to make an arts for it #and then getting frustrated and stopping because i couldn't figure out how to make sqq shimmery enough #but like. im not NOT saying that #this is the FOURTH time ive started something for this bitch it haunts my fucking dreams and yet the opalescent glittery sqq evades me #perhaps you o unlearned fool look at this and say hmm that's too many colour layers and glowy effects but oh how wrong you are #if it doesnt make you literally fall over yourself at how otherworldly and radiant he is then there is room for improvement yet #perhaps you look at this and you think Wow!!! this gives me literally NO ideas what this fic is about #well Let Me Tell You. i have no fucking idea how to summarize this fic #its not often the tags in a fic give me pause but i saw this and as i read the tags i was increasingly just like What #but i have no idea how to describe it. the tags arent NOT accurate but i was SO unprepared for what happened in like an extremely pos way #if i were tagging this i think i would give it the no archive warnings apply label if that matters to you #the author seemed they wanted to leaned towards over caution rather than risk missing anything re tags because This Is A Weird Fic #but oh my fucking god #i am gripping you by the shoulders i cannot stress enough how charming it is #brilliant characterization especially with airplane in the first scene #and also so much fucking funnier than i thought possible for the general setting summary tags and buildup #its just. ough. its good

youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either. and is also still, sort of, a sex flower

from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way