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xhisokas-harleyx · 3 years ago

Note

Helloo! I don't know if i can just request something, if requests are close or something please just ignore it sorry qwq

What do you think Hisoka's reaction would be if he saw Reader in yk,,,, maid outfit or "cat" outfit idk what they called. Like ears+tails. Who knows why, maybe they just wanted have fun and dear someone never knocks 🙄 ilovethismfsomuchistg- Anyways, wishing you a good day or night! 💛

Thanks so much for your request, sorry it took so long. I hope you still find this!

(hope you don’t mind that I sort of ran with this one!)

Warnings: sensuality themes, absolute PAMPERING of your man Hisoka. I mean, serious spoiling kink. Body worship

Enjoy 😊

Hisoka x Reader: Kitten

word count: 2700

Well… you were a sight, that much was certain.

Your eyes danced over your form as you twirled in the bathroom mirror, appreciating your bare thighs in the short kitty dress you were wearing. Your black tail swayed along with your hips, your lace gloved hands placing the kitty-eared headband atop your crown. Your bust was showing through the skimpy black material, and the size of it barely allowed your rump to be covered with a thin ruffly layer of fabric. It was promiscuous and you weren’t sure it was your style… but if Hisoka picked it out for you, you were open to the idea.

Well, technically you’d stolen this item from him, but something told you he wasn’t going to mind.

As you’d been cleaning your and Hisoka’s shared apartment earlier that day, you had unassumingly stumbled upon one of Hisoka’s hidden treasures when you were dusting under the bed. There, beneath the box-spring, you’d discovered a white container which looked as if it hadn’t been touched. Normally you’d never go snooping around in Hisoka’s stuff (not that he had a lot of stuff to snoop in anyway), but because you hadn’t seen it before, curiosity had gotten the better of you.

When you opened the box to reveal the cat maid outfit, your jaw dropped, your mind baffled and scrambling for an explanation. However, it was obvious, right? It was for you, who else would it be for? It made sense- one of his favorite things to call you was kitten… you could hear his lusty voice coo it in your mind even now. But you had no idea he could take things so literally!

You’d been wanting to spoil Hisoka for a while now. He’d been coming back hurt and exhausted from his strenuous missions with Illumi, and although you could tell he wanted to spend time with you, he was always being whisked away to fight his next foe. Many times, he didn’t even get to sleep before the next mission called him. Your little discovery had given you an idea, and currently you were planning it carefully in your head. You figured you had at least a few hours before he-

“So, you found your birthday present.” Hisoka’s voice startled you, and you wheeled around, amazed at how silent he could be stalking up behind you like that. Your face turned bright red- whatever chance you had to back out before was gone now. You took in the tattered appearance of your boyfriend, complete with blood on his face.

“MY birthday present?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip sassily, and cocking your body to the side. Hisoka loved your normal fiery attitude, which could go toe to toe with his own sarcastic and sharp tongue. He knew you still had a soft side, that desire to be sweet to him, but with how far apart you’d been recently, he hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Hisoka chuckled as he captured you in the cage of his arms, his nose burying in the crook of your neck and breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“Fine, you got me… it’s really MY present.” Hisoka smirked against your neck, already parting his lips to nibble leisurely on your exposed skin. Even in his words and his voice, though they were passionate and fervent, you could sense his exhaustion. The cuts that littered his exposed arms worried you, and in a moment, you drew back, looking up into his golden gaze. Bags were beginning to form under his eyes, and although they held a hungry gleam, you could tell he was close to collapsing.

The sight of you in this outfit, however, had him teeming with excitement despite his need for rejuvenation.

“How many times have I told you not to rummage through my things, y/n? Tsk, Tsk.” Hisoka grinned widely, his own catty eyes monitoring your body hungrily. He dearly appreciated your bust peeking through the fabric, your perfectly shaped thighs accentuated by the half white laced stockings, and the collar around your neck with a small bell that showed how possessive he was of you. If you’d paid even the slightest bit of attention when putting it on, you’d have noticed your name engraved on the metal tag. Of course, it was his plan all along for you to find this little secret, and you could sense that he was trying to be his normal difficult self in denying that fact.

“How many times have a told you not to hide things from me?” You fired back, causing him to withdraw and place a spread hand over his chest.

“Ouch. It seems you’re really in character tonight, kitten.”

His use of the nickname made your blood boil, and your aura pique a little at his purposeful insult of your methods. You wondered what his undercut insult truly meant to call you, but you allowed it to slide. For as much as he could be insufferable, you still had a deep desire to please your lover.

“And…” He just had to continue, his words grating on your nerves just as he wanted. “��since you’re already dressed the part, why don’t you get to cleaning?”

You felt enraged at his comment, for a moment letting your anger get the better of you and distract you from your goal. “I-I’ve been slaving over this house all day, what is there left to clean?!” As soon as the words left your lips, however, you realized you ‘d played right into his trap.

Hisoka’s thin eyebrow kicked as if he was surprised that you don’t know... but as soon as you saw his expression, you got the idea.

“Me, of course,” He reiterated anyway, a sly grin painting his features.

Little did he know, you already had quite the plan in mind for him- and it was something not even he had anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~

After promptly shoving him from the bathroom, you began to set up. You’d requested that he give you ten minutes to set up for him, but knowing how impatient the bastard could be, you swiftly tried to get it done in five. Lit candles were scattered throughout the bathroom, the tub in the center of the room being filled with hot water, almost scalding, just how you knew he liked it. Evening light filtered through the sole window in the room, painting the water and floor tiles with an orange cast. You scattered some bath salts into the water, as well as some cotton candy scented bubble solution, which you knew he loved.

That’s when he came barging through the door, smirk on his face, without so much as asking for your permission. You half expected him to be naked, but he still wore his tattered clothes, and you figured he was just that tired. But as he took in the surroundings before him, his eyes widened, and he seemed surprised that you’d been able to do so much in such a small amount of time.

“…” He didn’t say anything, and you quickly assumed your role in his relaxation before he got the chance to question your motives.

“All for you, Hisoka, my darling.” You threw in a small bow, playing the part of a maid just as you’d practiced in your mind. “I hope that everything is to your liking, my king.”

That nickname made him realize how touch-starved he felt in that moment, but he swallowed the urge to foil your little game so quickly.

Seeming to realize he was visibly gawking, Hisoka closed his mouth and smirked, sauntering forward and reaching for the hem of his shirt to peel it off. Though he couldn’t bring himself to say so outwardly, he was very taken aback that, contrasting with your earlier fire, you’d gone to this much trouble on his behalf. Part of him wanted to patronize you and make you angry, but the other wanted to see when this attitude was taking him.

“Let me help you with that.” You floated forward, dropping your voice an octave to reflect the sensual atmosphere you were painting with your environment. Your hands moved expertly to the bottom of his skintight purple undershirt, where your nimble fingers ghosted just under the fabric, grazing the V-line of his pelvis as you began to slowly remove his shirt.

Hisoka allowed you to do so, but he seemed dazed by how angelic and feathery your touch could be. The skin of his chest burned with passion as you pulled his shirt above his head for him, fingertips grazing tepidly over each muscle as you discarded it to the side. The care you touched him with was something he was unaccustomed to- typically when you touched him, you made it clear exactly what you wanted from him. His gaze was intent on your face, and while you could feel him staring, you paid no mind to it and moved onto his pants.

You coyly shimmied the elastic waistband carefully over his hips, ensuring that the magician would be mesmerized by your slight of hand illusions and the ability to make his worries disappear. It was as if you were the only thing grounding him at this moment, as his breathing picked up.

"There...” You dropped to the ground submissively as you beckoned him to step out of his bloodstained trousers, and along with them you trashed his underwear to the side. You ignored his obvious excitement as you reached up again to touch his thighs.

Hisoka’s breath hitched in his throat as your gloved hands traced the detailed lines of his muscular legs, praising and appreciating every mark and every muscle, your eyes remaining in sharp contact with his all the while. You were numb with appreciation at this point, and you let it show in your every motion.

“Look at you… you are so perfect.” You purred up at him, pushing past the moan he accidentally let slip. “Your body is so gorgeous. Every muscle, every mark, every feature is something that should be admired.”

His mind was a wasteland, driven by his willingness to let you talk him up, edge him closer to snapping just with your words. He had a shameless kink to withhold his own pleasure until his very breaking point, and you were unknowingly expertly fulfilling that desire.

~Oh, don’t look at me like that, y/n… you know I just can’t contain it…~

Hisoka’s body truly was like a finely chiseled sculpture, and it made you so pleased to worship him as you felt he deserved. Even if he felt like he needed to cover his imperfections with Texture Surprise, you always had a way of letting him know you appreciated his scars and flaws. Positive affirmations hadn’t been a part of the magician’s life before you came along, but this was on an entirely new level, it was delicacy, fragility, like he couldn’t comprehend.

“Now, if you’ll just step to the tub.” Hisoka did as you asked, his hand moving into yours, and you helped your man step into the scalding water, watching as he sank down into the tub, coloring the water pink with residual blood.

“Well, Well.” Hisoka snickered as he fully relaxed in the tub, and it seemed he’d gotten his spunk back. “What’s gotten into you, y/n? What game are you playing with me, hmm, kitten? You’re not usually this... eager to please me.” His voice was like honey, his eyes closing as he began to soak. You kneeled, and took your position just behind him, sitting on the floor where you could easily access his body from outside the tub.

Your small, heated laugh sent chills up his spine, because you sent it right into his ear, as your now bare hands began to trace his chest. “And why shouldn’t I be? You are THE Hisoka Morrow. You are the most powerful man around… you deserve this.” You got some soap in your hands, beginning to wash the dirt and dried blood away from his body in circular motions. You did mean your words- while you two loved to play fight, you did have a deep, almost obsessive adoration for Hisoka, and knowing that you could serve him like this was a major turn on.

Hisoka shuddered when your compliments continued into his ear, your teeth grazing up his neck, and to his earlobe, where you nibbled lightly. His body was submitting to your touch, his tense nature flowing out of him as you placed him under your spell.

“You’re so good to me… I’m so lucky to have a guy like you.”

You were being so submissive and serving that Hisoka thought you might have been under some mind control or something. This was like a fantasy come true for the magician- of course he feels like he deserves this kind of treatment from you. He ate up your compliments, they made his ego (and something below the water) grow to painful size. What you were saying was all true, of course. He is the great Hisoka Morrow, and you belong to him. Why shouldn’t you worship him like a God?

But as it played out before him, your reverse psychology got the better of him- and Hisoka ended up being the one questioning his worthiness. He expected you to get mad and retort at him, but you were dedicated to showing him how you truly felt.

He had the tendency to be so brash- sometimes he came home and ravaged your body before even saying hello- that was how strong his hunger was for you. But tonight, you had the ability to read the situation, and knew this care, this pampering, was exactly what he needed to recover.

“Let’s get that face, hm?” You nearly moaned, scooping some makeup remover into your palm and beginning to massage the faded paint from his soft, pale cheeks. Your hands moved back toward his hair, fingertips spreading over his scalp as you massaged. But this seemed to be the final straw for Hisoka, because he startled you by grabbing your wrist with such force that you thought he might snap it. You yelped helplessly as his golden eyes flew open and looked into yours directly, as if he were feasting on your soul. You could feel the weight of his aura rising, your sensual touch becoming too much for him to handle.

You knew that look; you’d seen it countless times before. His honeyed irises reflected a deep lust, accentuated by the offset of his tongue on his bottom lip. Your normal reaction would have been to struggle against him- but you submitted to his will, letting Hisoka’s hand pull yours back to his chest… and then lower.

All was silent as you allowed him to force your wrist below the waterline- and you tried to hide your panic when you realized where the magician was leading your hand. His traced his own V-line with your splayed fingertips, as if teasing himself just along the edges of the pleasure he so desired.

“Hisoka- you’re not being any fun.” You stopped him finally, your orbs reflecting a sense of disappointment, when he let go of your hand reluctantly, but not your gaze. He knew you’d truthfully be more than happy to oblige him- he made sure to guide you toward his end goal.

“You’ve had your fun… and now, I want to have you. This was always the outcome, y/n.” He droned dangerously, relaxing into the tub for a moment longer before he sat up, bringing himself to a standing position once again.

His words broke your resolve into shards, and a small moan escaped your plump lips as your tongue grazed across them. He stood up, confidently putting his manhood at your eye level, droplets of water cascading down his glowing body that was bathed liberally in the setting sunlight.

“I believe it’s your turn to get cleaned, kitten… But let’s get dirty, first.” With that, he snickered evilly, and pulled you into the tub, eager to put your newfound submissiveness to the test.

~FIN~

I likeddd this one :3

Hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment!

#y/n x hisoka #hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka hxh #hisoka morow #hunter x hunter #hxh 2011 #hxh #reader insert

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starlightxsvt · 4 years ago

Text

Fated

Pairing: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre: mafia/gang au, exes to lovers, action, slight smut

Warnings: cursing, fighting and stuff

A/N: Happy Seungcheol Day everyone! This is for our birthday boy~ I tried to keep it short but it got outta hand so whoops, strap in for the ride. Also, I'll really appreciate it if you took a minute to let me know what you thought about this cuz this took me a looot of time to write and my eyes and hands hurt really bad. Anyway enjoy!

Never in a hundred years did you expect to meet Seungcheol in the club your cousin had invited you all to. She had just returned from abroad and her wedding was taking place the next week hence it was a long awaited get together. Of course she had arranged it in one of the finest clubs in the city, the one you always wanted to visit but your regular plain desk job couldn't really afford.

You first took notice of Seungcheol when you were on your way back from the restroom, him sitting in the back, more secluded area of the club with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes met yours and they went wide like saucers, a look of displease crossing his face, a rather exaggerated expression - you thought. Sure, you two were exes and went through a salty breakup but his expression was rude and brought back unwanted, sad memories. You contemplated on talking to him but he saved you from that. Standing up in a flash, he walked over to you and hissed, "What are you doing here?" His tone made your blood boil and your initial thoughts of being polite to him went down the drain, "Gee, Mr. Choi, I know I'm not someone your worthy but this is a public place and you don't own it!" You snapped at him. His eyes turned dark as he clenched his teeth and spoke, "For fucks sake, what the fuck are you doing here?" His eyes raked over your body covered in a snug deep wine colored dress.

"I'm here for shopping. Why the fuck would I be here Seungcheol?" You spat, clearly annoyed by his behaviour. Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh, hands combing through his hair as he muttered curses under his breath.

"Listen, you shouldn't be here, Y/n", he spoke trying to calm down and held your arms. "Woah there, Choi, get your hands off me. Who are you to tell me where I should or should not be?"

Seungcheol looked like he could punch someone as he clenched his jaw tight and gave you a look that made your knees weak, "I'm not fucking around, Y/n, you should not be here."

"What the hell Seungcheol? What is your problem? I'm here to attend my cousin's party. And for the record, we're not together anymore so stop interfering in my life."

Seungcheol opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by one of the suited men behind him who murmured something in his ear that only seemed to infuriate him. He turned towards you, "You- fuck, you should not be here. A deal is gonna go down here."

It took you a couple seconds to put two and two together and a sudden wave of agitation passed through you. You whispered, "You're kidding, right?"

Seungcheol was no ordinary man. He was tenacious and confident- too confident for someone who regularly killed people and ran his underworld business. You figured it out during the time you two were together and you didn't try to dig further for your own good.

"You have no idea what-" Seungcheol was interrupted when one of your cousins appeared out of the blue, "Hey Y/n! Where have you-" her voice trailed off when she saw you with Seungcheol and a smirk appeared on her face, "Oops, sorry, I'll leave you two to it." And as quickly as her came, she left, leaving a panicked you and an outraged Seungcheol. "Can you please explain what's going on?" You whispered to Seungcheol in hope of some enlightenment.

"They got Chan, okay? These mother fucking group of traffickers got Chan and asked for a ransom. They're now here for the money."

Oh no. Your heart sank at the mention of Chan's kidnapping, Seungcheol's younger brother. He was always a pleasure to spend time with when Seungcheol left for business for a long time. "That's bad," is all you could mumble as your mushed brain tried to decipher the situation. "Are you gonna give them the money?" Seungcheol scoffed, "Of course not. Those fuckers are long due for jail. Once I get Chan we're gonna blow out their brains."

You gulped. " It's too late to leave for us right?"

"Yes," Seungcheol replied, his lips forming a thin line. He looked past you, probably towards the entry of the bar and quickly shoved you away, "Go to your friends and stay put. When the firing starts hide behind the counter. Only try leave if there's no firing. Otherwise stay put, you hear me?" You nodded your head robotically, mind racing a mile a minute as you walked back to your cousins, trying to appear calm. Every nerve on your body was alert and goosebumps rose on your skin as you watched a man in a flashy white suit walk up to Seungcheol and his guards, followed by a disheveled looking Chan. You felt bad for him, seeing his normally lit face etched with exhaustion. You ignored the comments your cousins made about you and Seungcheol, waiting for things to start. You carefully looked over to the entrance of the bar and sure enough two tall men stood over there. You really had no way out.

And as expected, all of a sudden, loud gunfires echoed through the room followed by people screaming as you and your cousins quickly took shelter behind the bar counter.

"Oh my god what the fuck is happening?"

"Y/n what the hell is your ex doing?"

"You never told us he's a gangster or shit."

You ignored your cousins rather untimely interrogations thinking of a way out. The bar was a mess, broken glass pieces everywhere, the people who came to enjoy all crouched down covering their heads. You heard continuous gunfires, people groaning and bodies slumping on the floor which only made your cousins voice their panic more.

"Shit we're gonna die."

"My wedding is next week, fuck."

Your eyes peered over to the entrance which was now not occupied by any threating looking men as they were busy fighting. You all could've gotten out if it weren't for the continuous firings.

You and your cousins held your breath for a few moments until a particularly loud firing was heard followed by the sound of breaking glass. You spied from behind the counter to see Seungcheol dropping down on the floor with a groan and Chan's scream of his brother's name.

Shit. Seungcheol was shot.

Chan seemed furious, no more exhaustion on his face as he lunged for the man in the flashy white suit and hitting him square in the jaw.

"Guys, now's the chance, get out of here. Go, go."

"What the fuck Y/n? Don't tell me you're gonna stay here."

"We're not leaving you to die in the middle of a crossfire."

"No, guys, I'll be fine. Seungcheol's shot."

"What? I thought you guys weren't a thing anymore-"

"Please, get your asses outta here if you don't wanna die."

Despite their will you pushed your cousins towards the exit with a promise of calling them as soon as you could, while they called you names to point out your less than smart decision and of course your never leaving feelings for Seungcheol. As soon as they were out the door, you rushed over to Seungcheol who sat against the wall, jaw clenched as he held onto his shoulder.

"Y/n what the fuck? Get out of here- why the fuck- ugh, dammit."

"You're shot Seungcheol, maybe stop talking" You applied pressure to his bloody shoulder while Chan who sat atop of the man in the flashy white suit and twisted both his hands back and gave you an incredulous look, "Y/n? Wha- uhm, I thought- you two broke up...?"

"Uh...it's a.... coincidence, I guess. I think we need to get your brother to a doctor, you know" You murmured.

"Yea right," Chan agreed and handed his hostage over to Seungcheol's guard not before punching him in the lower stomach. "I'd kill you but that'd be a mercy. You deserve to suffer, you son of a bitch."

He helped Seungcheol to stand up with you as you both gently took him out of the club and into his limousine, all the while Seungcheol saying that he was alright.

The car ride to his place was quick but silent, except Chan who sat beside the driver once spoke to let you know that it was good to see you. Seungcheol rested his head on your shoulder as he let out uneven breathes and you applied pressure to his wound.

"I guess you... really... can't escape...fate, huh?" He whispered and you frowned at him. "What do you mean?" You asked him but he only replied with a chuckle, his body getting heavier against yours. Your heart ached for the man. You were never over him, you knew that deep down. Hell, your cat even knew that.

Seeing Seungcheol's large mansion again brought back sad memories but you couldn't really focus on them. His servants rushed Seungcheol into the small infirmary of the house where a doctor was waiting.

You stayed outside, anxiously tapping your foot against the marbled floor while quickly typing a message to your cousin letting her know you were okay before putting your phone on mute.

The family doctor appeared with good news, saying his wound wasn't that bad and only a few stitches had it covered. While Seungcheol was transferred to his bedroom, Chan called you to the large dining hall to offer you a glass of water.

"Are you gonna stay the night? Should I set up a room for you?"

"Uh, um, no maybe I'll stay by Seungcheol's side," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Sure," was all he said as a smirk took over his lips. We're you really that obvious?

It was past 12 when you decided to peek into Seungcheol's room, after you stole a pair of night suit from his closet which was uncomfortably large for you. You sat by his bed, taking in the way he looked while sleeping. His injured shoulder was casted in a sling and his hand rested over his naked chest. Small scratches were painted over his chiseled face and you lightly stroked them. You relished the bittersweet memories you had with him in this room, from all the romantic nights to the fights. Before you knew, you were asleep.

You woke up to Seungcheol's hand softly stroking your cheek. Your eyes met his and warmth spread on your cheeks. You looked at the clock. It was almost four.

"How do you feel?" You croaked, sitting up from the stool by his bed.

"I'm good." Seungcheol was a strong man. You knew his body had gone through a lot and judging by how he looked, you took his word for it.

"You stayed," he whispered. His face was illuminated by the moonlight coming from the open balcony doors, the face of an angel. You only nodded, transfixed by his beauty, hoping he couldn't see your embarrassed face. "What did you mean by that? The thing you said in the car," you spoke and Seungcheol carefully sat up. He sighed and leaned against the headboard before meeting your eyes. He looked...pained. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I never broke up with you because you weren't enough. You were more than anything I ever wanted. I broke up with you because...I was...scared." He swallowed. "Things were not really going according to my plan back then and...this mother fucking gang was threating to harm you. I... couldn't let that happen, Y/n, so...I broke up with you."

You stare at him, incredulous. "You...you have some serious issues, Choi Seungcheol." You whispered. Seungcheol chuckled softly, " You- you mean the world to me. I was so scared something would happen to you if you stayed with me. I know I made an awful decision and I said awful things to you-"

"No shit, Seungcheol, your words weren't exactly the most helpful for my already insecure self." You spat.

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry." He sighed, his head dropping down, "What happened yesterday only proved that I really can't escape fate."

"So you are saying we are fated to be together?"

"Aren't we? I mean, look at us."

You laughed softly before saying, "I'm still mad at you, you know." Seungcheol smiled at you as he took your hand and planted a soft kiss, "You can take out all your anger on me if that means you're gonna give me another chance."

"I'll...have to think about it," was your reply even though you knew your answer. "That's great. That's more than I deserve." Seungcheol mumbled. "Can I hold you?" He softly asked. You scooted closer to him, careful to avoid his injured shoulder as he passed his other hand around your waist. His faces inches away from you, he spoke, "You are the most beautiful thing that happened to me, Y/n and I'm sorry I let you down like that. I promise you, if you give me another chance I'll make it all up to you. I'll make you the happiest woman alive. Come back to me, baby."

You gulped feeling emotional as you replied, "Okay but you need to get well first you know." Seungcheol's eyes bored into yours, his chocolate orbs getting more intense by the seconds before he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and short before he pulled back to assess your reaction. When you didn't resist, he pulled you in for a messy, hot kiss that left tingles all over your body. Before you knew it, you were in his lap, tugging at his hair as he nipped across your neck and shoulders. There was no way this wasn't gonna end up with you underneath him if you didn't stop him. "Seungcheol...stop it. You're hurt."

"I could have half of my body ripped open and still not resist you baby, you are divine."

"Uhm, that's concerning but okay. Why don't we get some sleep now?" You pulled back from him and a pout took over his face.

"You are seriously not thinking about having sex right now, are you?"

"Why not? It has been so long and I miss you."

"I get it horny boy but no. How about we cuddle now and when you are fully healed you can keep me in your bed all day."

A devilish smirk took over his face that made you squirm, "Is that a promise sweetheart?"

You nodded shyly before gently lying on his uninjured arm and wrapping a hand around his torso. Damn, it felt good.

Seungcheol kissed the top of your head as you snuggled closer. He whispered, "Promise me you'll stay."

"I will," you smiled.

"Unless my cousins find my location and drag me out of here tomorrow."

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fbfh · 4 years ago

Text

light up the dark [V] - leo x reader

genre: romance + action + enemies to lovers kinda

word count: 2.4k

au: none

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: yes teehee

warnings: spoilers for HOO but like what’s new, at least one fuck, mentions of breakfast foods and burger king, one “cranberry fucknut”, brief visit to a historical memorial site, I think that’s it????

summary: you have a very weird dream that leads you to realize you’re actually on some kind of quest! very fun! you, Leo, and Jason follow a lead, find out Chiron’s sending you guys some backup, and realize you’re going to need a very large airbnb

listen to: making mirrors - gotye aka the best dream sequence music

also we’re the rats. it’s not relevant just living in my brain.

a/n: honest to god it tookme so long to write this i forget what happens in the first half rip

also requests r open uwu

Your dream is unnerving, and not just because you had spent years in a dreamless sleep and forgot what dreaming was like. Okay, partially because of that, but also because of the atmosphere.

You’re standing in a dark room. It’s pitch black, but you can make out the shape of the room, which is unusual to say the least. It’s long and rectangular, and the ceiling has cylindrical indents, almost as if giant logs were supposed to fit there. The indents go across the short side, with another in front of it, like a rope bridge across a river. Giant curved metallic discs like flat mushrooms are embedded in the ground at regular intervals.

You get the feeling something’s missing. You stare up at the ceiling trying to get more information, when something hot and glowing presses against the roof. It shines through, casting everything in a strange pink light. You can’t see it, but you know what it is. A translucent sundial that gave off a glowing orange cast.

Sunstone.

You look back down not wanting to hurt your eyes, and they fall on someone else in the room. He hadn’t been there a second ago. He’s blonde, and looking up at the ceiling, seemingly unbothered by the blinding light.

“He has it,” he says, wistfully, almost regretfully.

"Who?" You question.

"I can't pronounce his name, no one can."

"How can we get it back if we can't find him?" He smiles, liking how you know what he needs you to do before he even tells you.

"I can't tell you his name, but he's very old… some may even say archaic…" He looks at you with intention, searching for a spark of understanding. He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, and continues, “and not far from here. Which is good, since I need you to get it back for me.”

“How do we find it?” He tosses you a small, clear container filled with what looks like yellow slime. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s a drop of sunshine,” he explains, “don’t touch it or you’ll burn up. It’ll glow when you get closer to what you’re looking for.” You tuck it in your jacket pocket.

“Can-”

Before you can get out the rest of the sentence, you feel like you’re being pulled out of deep water. Your eyes shoot open, and you take in a quick breath through your nose. You open and close your eyes a few times, and push yourself into a sitting position. There’s a weight on your stomach and you trace the hand back to Jason, who had gently nudged you awake moments ago. His mouth is open and there’s a stale smile, like he was about to tell you to rise and shine. Your stare is unwavering, and he retracts his hand.

“Uh… breakfast is ready,” he says, turning back and heading over to the couch.

“Kay,” you mutter, still groggy and disoriented. Maybe sleep just isn’t for you. Jason hesitates about half way across the room, noticing the lack of cat-like vengefulness in your tone of voice.

“...You okay?” he asks softly.

“Fine, just a weird dream,” you roll your shoulders, back sore and stiff, to try and loosen the two stubborn knots just below your shoulder blades. His eyebrows furrow at your words and you continue, “I’m starting to think I should add a little chloroform to my sleepy time tea.”

“What happened?” he asks, sounding way more serious than you’d expected.

“I dunno, I-” he cut you off, calling for Leo. Jason encourages you to tell them what you’d dreamed about as in depth as possible once Leo comes in from the sitting area, so you don’t have time to gauge how he seems after last night. You feel a little silly trying to describe a surreal dream to them, especially since they seem to be paying such rapt attention. After recalling as many details as you could, they sat in silence for a minute. They share a look, then sigh in unison. Jason pushes up his glasses and squeezes the bride of his nose as Leo lets out a soft ‘fuck’.

“I’ll go iris message Chiron, Leo, do you want to get some food and offerings to burn?” Jason says. Leo agrees, and Jason’s already in the sitting area, misting water in the air with a squirt bottle. Leo puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Why don’t you get dressed, I already made some coffee,” he says, the spike of hesitance that shot through his stomach at his instigated physical contact dissolving when you nod sleepily. An unusually warm feeling clouds through you, less distant and detached than normal. You realize while digging through your bag that for whatever reason, you didn’t hate the feeling of Leo’s hand on your shoulder. You grab your clothes from your bag, and feel a weight in your jacket. You reach into the pocket, and pull out the “slime” from your dream. It glows briefly, fading as you walk towards the bathroom. Huh, you think, at least now we know what to look for. You’re grateful for the example as you get dressed and freshen up, wondering what the hell happens next.

Burning the food doesn’t take long. Leo throws the extra breakfast they’d ordered onto the metal table on the patio, except for a piece of toast he held in his hands. He summons fire until the toast is engulfed in flames, and drops it with the rest. He fans the smoke and asks for guidance, protection, typical pre quest stuff. After a minute or two, he pours out a pitcher of water to extinguish the flames, and heads back into the sitting area with Jason. On his way, he watches you through the open bathroom door for a second as you put on your makeup. You sure are different from girls he’d liked in the past. A strong twinge of pain from the previous night makes him flinch. He shoves it away, and takes a seat, greeting Chiron through iris message. Jason had just finished filling him in on the dream and the sundial, and he looks worried.

“I was afraid this might be the case. I'd gotten word that something like this might have happened, but I hoped it was just hearsay… I'm sorry boys, but you're most definitely on a mission from the gods. The story behind that sundial is long and complicated; in summary, if Apollo does not have his sundial by june, summer cannot happen."

"Wh- like, time will stop?" Leo says.

"Will it just skip to autumn?" Jason adds.

"What about Persephone?"

"Can Demeter do anything?"

Chiron holds up his hands to quiet them.

"I wish I could say, but no one really knows what will happen, only that we do not wish to find out."

"So, what do we do?" Jason asks.

"Who can I send?" Chiron says to himself, "Dear gods, this is… unfortunate."

"Chiron," Jason says again, getting his attention.

"Right, I'm sorry my boy, this whole situation is… preoccupying." Jason agrees, and asks what they should do next.

"Get as much information as you can from what Apollo has told you. I'll gather some people to send over at once, they'll be on their way shortly. This is most distressing…" he trails off, lost in thought again, and the iris message cuts out. Jason's stomach is in knots.

After freshening up, you get dressed, having chosen your clothes deliberately before. If shit’s about to hit the fan, which it looks like it is, you’re going to need a strong balance of comfortable and kick ass. Plus, it’s still the cold part of spring, and New England weather is no joke.

You assess yourself in the mirror, satisfied with your choice; half black half gray cargo pants with chain belts, a long sleeved fishnet top with a black crop top over it, and one of your favorite pairs of platform boots. You topped it off with a layered choker studded with black jewels and delicate chains, asymmetrical earrings - one attached to an ear cuff, the other dangling - and a ring that looks like a snake wrapped around your finger. Last but not least, a dark olive green bomber jacket with ‘god save the queen’ written on the back in paint.

Your mind wanders as you lean closer to the mirror, laser focused on perfecting your eyeliner. The memory of Leo’s hand on your shoulder creeps back up, and your brow furrows at the panicked flush to your cheeks, wondering why you didn’t push him off.

‘Some cranberry fucknut broke his heart last night, I didn’t want him to feel worse’, you think deliberately, refusing room for any objections or alternative solutions your brain keeps offering up. You finish your makeup relatively quickly, pleased at how much better it looks when you don’t sleep in it for years. Your hair is… hanging in there, but you can’t drop everything and redye it now. At least you know what color you want next - a nice, coral tinted red. You’ll have to keep an eye out the next time you go shopping.

Finally, you’re ready. You put away your makeup and pajamas, and make your way over to the boys. You grab some coffee and pick at a muffin, the strategy session beginning.

Jason takes a sip of his own coffee, scowling at the slightly burnt taste.

“Where should we start looking? Do we have any decent leads?”

You sip your coffee, your face mirroring Jason’s moments before.

“The guy from my dream-”

“Apollo,” Jason interjects.

“Right,” you continue, “he said whoever has what we’re looking for has a really hard to pronounce name or something. Maybe we can start there.”

After some back and forth, and consulting of travel guides, you find a memorial for some historical figure with a name that definitely would have gotten him bullied.

“Wasn’t that guy a demigod?” Leo asks, and Jason confirms. You’re already checking the maps scattered around for a route.

“It looks like it’s pretty much just further west from where we are, we can probably get there pretty easily,” you remark. Jason and Leo look at you, then each other. No one has any better ideas, and at least it’s some kind of lead.

Four and a half hours later, you sat in the car in stumped silence. It took almost three hours to get up to the memorial site, an hour to look around and realize there is absolutely nothing there that can help you at all, ten minutes to debate what to do next, and twenty minutes to get burger king, since no one had eaten since breakfast.

“Well, that sucked.”

Leo and Jason give you a look, knowing you’re right.

“Yeah, it did.” Jason agrees matter of factly, earning a small chuckle from you and Leo.

“So what do we do now?” Leo asks.

“Well, no one’s around, we could probably iris message Chiron-” before he could finish his sentence, a shimmery image of a tan girl with choppy dark hair appears in front of him.

Jason and the girl - Piper, apparently - greet each other enthusiastically, then Leo follows suit. It looks like she’s in a cab, holding something at arm's length. You make it out to be a phone, probably to trick her cab driver into thinking she’s on a facetime call or something. Two other people lean over, one blonde and smiling, the other dark haired and irritable, and more greetings are exchanged. You lean slightly to the side so you’ll be out of site and hopefully won’t have to make any introductions. Leo seems to catch onto this, and when Piper’s eyes land on the edge of your shoulder.

“So did Chiron send anyone else?” he asks before she can say anything.

“Yeah,” she replies, “Frank and Hazel are coming from camp Jupiter; Frank’s flying, and Hazel’s getting a ride from Arion,” Leo and Jason nod in understanding, picking up instantly on her deliberate word choice. Christ, you’re going to have to get a bigger place than that hotel room.

“Uh… Percy and Annabeth just started spring break, so they’ll be coming soon. Hazel should get there first, for…” she glances at the cab driver, “obvious reasons, and me, Nico, and Will are on our way now, we should be there in a few hours.”

Your skin is already feeling prickly from the idea of being around that many people. They talk for a few more minutes, and Jason says he’ll tell them the specific address as soon as possible before ending the call.

Thankfully, you all had repacked the car with your bags from the hotel room before you left, just in case you needed anything, so there’s no need to make the two and a half hour trip back to the hotel. You sigh and turn to the boys.

“Why don’t we go get some groceries and stuff, and I can get us an air bnb.”

They agree, pleasantly surprised and grateful for the normalcy of something like grocery shopping, and you ask how many people there are going to be.

“Uh, should be te-”

“Eleven.” Leo says firmly. Jason looks like he’s going to say something, but he bites back whatever it is. Leo’s hands normally dance around like swirling snow, light and natural with subtle patterns if you can figure them out. But right now, his normal subconscious movements seem to be heavier, more intentional. His relaxed expression is set in stone, a silent plea to move on, act like everything’s normal, and you know he’s covering up the depth of the wound that girl left on his heart. A twinge of concern flares in your gut, and you blink, looking away.

“Okay,” you say, pulling out a pen and notepad from your bag to write out a grocery list, “Let’s go. What do we need?”

Jason pulls out of the parking lot, and begins to head to the nearest box store. Your eyes dart over to Leo involuntarily a few times, and by the time you’re almost there, he seems to be almost back to himself. Subconsciously relieved, your mind starts to wander back to the list, skimming it one more time to make sure you don’t forget anything.

Maybe you can pick up some hair dye while you’re here.

#Leo Valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #Heroes of Olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #LV light up the dark #enjoy babes teehee

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 5 years ago

Text

Stone Cold

anonymous asked:

(similar to frozen) Geralt x Reader where he has been mean to her lately because he's had a bad week. Reader was born with ice powers. He lashes out at them during a small argument turned into a fight. He tells her to leave. She runs to the moutains, builds a ice palce (her hair turns white from fully using her ice powers). A few hours later during the night, he tracks her scent to the mountains. He's worried at first but when he finds them, they tell them about their ice powers. He apologizes?

A/N: Sorry for the wait, I wasn’t sure how I wanted to write this and I hope the direction I chose is to your enjoyment!

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: angst, description of smut

He had never known someone so cold. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for him or others, you did, so much so that it often felt forced, heavy with an attempt to seek recompense for something he was unaware of. It was just how you were. He had never felt someone with such cold skin. Even with the first handshake he had wanted to recoil, icy flesh a shock against his warm hand. You had laughed and apologized, explaining that your hands had that affect on everyone. He soon learned that’s just how they were.

It wasn’t just your hands either.

The first time you had laid together he had found it impossible to warm your skin. He had slid your dress from your shoulders, slow and tantalizing, lips leaving a trail across cold skin. His hands had found the apex of your thighs, and he was surprised to find that even at your center you were cold.

‘Are you cold?’ he had whispered, and you had shaken your head, eyes filled with a fire that didn’t match the rest of your body. You had moaned and screamed like the rest, nails raking down his back with each thrust. It had gone for hours, the ferocity of two cats in heat, but when you arched your back for the final time and he pulled himself from your body, dropping to your chest with a lover’s exhaustion you were still as cold as when you had begun. He didn’t mention it then, or anytime after that. He simply continued to hold you close, fighting to hide the shivers that yearned to run up his spine every time you snuggled against him.

You were so loving and tender, hands always gentle when they held him, but the tinge of winter was always present. It was hard to be warm when you were made of ice. He tried so hard, but it seemed that every time he dared to get close, a sliver of ice would lodge itself within his heart and something cold and deep within him would begin to creep up his throat. He would find himself shivering every time you brushed against him. And the cold seemed to linger, etching itself in his veins until he was shivering when she wasn’t even around. He’d even found himself shivering beneath layers of wool while wrapped in the warmth of a pub. He would feel the colds tendrils wrapping around his ribs, crawling into his tones like snakes constricting before a meal. He would pull away, go hunting and try to warm himself, but it never seemed to work. And then he would return, and something would happen, small and irrelevant most days, but not when he was cold and restless. And then, before he knew it he was yelling and you were crying.

That was the only emotion you ever seemed to show him. Sadness and frustration while he howled in anger, trying to melt whatever had wedged itself inside him. She would scream back, tears running down her face. Even feet apart there he could feel the chill.

They were always fighting, screaming until their throats raw. And it would only get colder, sometimes it even seemed that snow around them would fall faster and faster, whipping through your hair, catching against his cloak, pushing you further and further apart until the clearing was between you and the sound of your screams could barely be heard over the sound of the wind. It was so foggy, a dark echo across a tempest, he could barely hear you let alone understand you, but the final words he uttered in the argument were loud and clear.

“Just leave.”

The snow and the wind stopped for those two words, as if someone had held out their hand with a malicious grin and demanded that only ultimatums make it through the snowstorm. You stared at him, icy eyes filling with tears once more. You nodded slowly and took off into the woods, leaving a frustrated Geralt behind you. He slammed his fist into the nearest tree, and for the first time in months, screamed at something other than you.

Startled black birds sprung through the trees in grand contrast and he leaned against their home, taking a deep breath. Part of him screamed to run after you, to pull you into his arms no matter how frigid, but another part whispered how much warmer he could be if he simply let you disappear.

It was easy the first few days, he traveled into town and ordered a drink, reveling in the way that the liquor burned like an inferno as it settled in his gut. When he wrapped himself in blankets, he finally felt their warmth. And the women who accompanied him to the sheets were just as warm, hot and heavy as they rolled around in the darkness. The tips of his fingers were no longer numb, and his toes finally felt comfortable in his boots. He relished in the heat for days, basking in a warmth he had been pulled from, but soon the novelty disappeared, and he was left with a gaping hole far worse than the cold. It rested in his chest, ugly and black, aching for the thing he had forced away. He ignored it at first, telling himself it would go away with time, and he would be free to enjoy life as he once had, but it didn’t. Soon the warmth felt artificial, nothing in comparison to the smiles you sent him from your horse or the way you stared at him when his scars were on display. So, he began to listen, hunting for any news of strangely cold girl settling in a town.

When the town where he resided had nothing, he set out in the direction you had run, smelling for the familiar essence of pine and holly. It took two weeks before anything caught his attention. At first he was sure that his mind was playing tricks on him, taunting him as he grew delirious with loneliness. Then it grew stronger and stronger until he was sure that only the real thing could create something so beautiful.

He urged Roach forward, the clearing of the forest nearing. He prayed you were there, your cold hands and all, but as he stepped from the trees he was not greeted with a campsite or a town, but a palace so magnificent it seemed it had been carved from diamonds. It was not until he drew closer that he realized it was ice. He touched it with tentative fingers and admired the craftsmanship. Each line was precise, carved with the utmost skill. As the sun crept over the trees it lit into a magnificent white fire, glittering with energy. Spring was growing nearer and with the heat of sun, he wondered how the integrity of the structure did not falter. He wondered who had built such a thing, and then with searing hope, he wondered if you were inside, taken in by this magnificent architect.

He climbed the stairs, gripping the handrails as if his life depended on it, and finally with an unshakeable resolve knocked against the icy door. It creeped open and he slipped inside, tugging his cloak around his shoulders.

The beauty was not limited to the outside, and the structure only grew more wonderous as he drew closer to its center.

“Geralt?” came the familiar voice from above and his eyes snapped to yours. Although, he wasn’t really sure if it was you. Your eyes were the same and the sound of your gasp had not changed, but so much had. Your hair was white, like his, and your eyes were hard, a jarring change from the warmth they had once greeted him with.

“Y/N?” he asked, returning the question and you nodded, descending the staircase with a grace he had never witness from you before. “Is it really you? After all this time?”

“You make it sound like it has been years,” you laughed sadly. You reached the bottom of the staircase, but approached him no further, pulling away when he tried to advance.

“It might as well have been a thousand years.”

“Always so dramatic, from what I’ve heard you have been splendid.”

“I could never be anything but miserable without you.”

“I’m sure,” you whispered, eyes narrowing but not delving any further into his transgressions.

“Y/N-,”

“Why have you come, Geralt?”

“To apologize and return to your side.” You raised an eyebrow, suspicion lacing itself with the cold.

“I thought I was too cold for you. And now that you know, are you not sure?”

“Now that I know what?”

“What I am capable of,” you said, ushering to the walls that surrounded you. He followed your hand, admiring the construction once more before placing the pieces together inside his mind.

“You built this?”

“Built is such a crude word, Geralt. I created this. I drew life from the earth and poured every ounce of sadness, every ounce of anger into it in return until I was able to fashion the very thing that haunted me into something beautiful. You told me I was too cold, and it destroyed me. You took my identity and spat it in my face, but I did not allow that to stop me. And now you wish to join me once more when I have become one with myself?”

“I am so sorry,” he pleaded with you, but you only scoffed. As you spoke, the hope he had conjured was withering away like a flower beneath the first snowfall.

“I’m not. Had you not cast me aside I would not have found what I am capable of, but I also know that I do not need you, just as you clearly do not need me.”

“I do need you!”

“I’m sure your whores will suffice; they are a much warmer pocket to stuff yourself in.”

“They mean nothing.”

“And yet you used them to fill my absence.”

“I love you, I cannot live without you.”

“It’s funny you choose those words. That’s how I felt when you sent me away, aching to have me banished from your sight, but now I speak from experience, you will learn.”

“Y/N, please-,”

“Leave.”

“Not without you.”

“If you do not leave on your own, I will not hesitate to force you from my sight.”

“Then you will have to force me,” he declared and then the wind started, the same force as the day you had fought, but now it was pulling him towards the door, ice cutting at his skin as you watched with emotionless eyes while he was pulled from your home and tossed into the snow. He brushed himself off and caught you watching him from the window. He waited for you to speak, to call out to him, but you said nothing, letting the coldness of your gaze speak for itself.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave, praying that you would join him once more, but the days drew into weeks and still your fortress remained unmoved. It wasn’t until after the night when you had sent six feet of snow that he left, glancing over his shoulder as he left.

Once upon a time he had been sure you were made of ice, but now he knew he was wrong. Back then you had been a blazing fire of love. Your heart had kept him from catching frostbite when you wrapped your frozen hands around him. It was not until now that you had become what he believed you to be. And it was all his fault that you had become the terrifying heart of ice.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia smut #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher smut #the witcher fluff #the witcher angst #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia fanfiction

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oh-sweet-mama · 4 years ago

Text

Lonely(III)

T.W swearing? talk of alcohol

Remus ^^^

Y/n

12:15 am

"Don't Hurt me please!"

Pitch black enveloped my eyes, no light, late. A fluffy paw batted gently at my nose.

"Aw sorry, Thea, fell asleep." I grumbled, rolling over my handed rummaged around the bedside stand, looking for my wand. "Lumos."

A bright ball of light ignited from my wand, casting around my dorm, expecting to find my dormmates fast asleep in their bed. However to my surprise I was met with their empty, still-made beds.

holding my wand between my teeth, I dug my matches out of my rucksack, then lighting the candles around the room.

Luci was snoozing peacefully on my left pillow, while Thea was pacing the edge of my bed.

"I'm so sorry my lovies, I'll get a better schedule I promise, this isn't fair to you."

Commencing my usual feeding routine, I also gathered my shower supplies whilst the cats were eating. The deep ache in my bones plagued my body. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was enough to cause me to want to curl up and die.

I left the cats to enjoy their midnight meal, and headed towards the showers. Creeping along the Gryffindor corridors, I knew I couldn't be caught, out of bed this late on a school night. Though I had become an expert in the past two weeks.

Opening the great door, I steeped into a still bathroom. Well, my lucky day. I turned a shower on and set my shower tote on the floor.

--------

Friday - 9:15 am

"James I really just don't want to party tonight ok?" I huffed, I wanted to go and have fun, but I knew Remus would be there, and he's been avoiding me at all costs.

"Why because Remmy will be there?" James had a tendency to be touchy, his arm slung over my shoulder.

"Where's Lily?" I needed to change the subject before I bit someone's head off.

"With Snivellus, probably," James lead us to our first period, "Come on just like 45 minutes, you've been so down recently, we've noticed."

"Who's 'We', you?" I chuckled at my friend.

"Uh no- well not just me, your friends, Remus-"

"Oh yea! Like Remus fucking cares!" I said a bit to loud. Luckily the Professor was out, but due to the fact that James Potter walks me to class, most of the seats were full. "What are you all looking at?"

People turned back around, I shook my head, Goddamn kids. I took my seat next to Dawn, she gave me her sympathetic look. Shaking my head I pressed my forehead against her shoulder, trying not to cry.

Remus' P.O.V

"Oh yea! Like Remus fucking cares!"

Jolting around to my name, I realized who was the source was. Y/n. She used to walk to class with me in the morning, but James has assumed the role.

Most of the class turned their head to them at the door way. James had his arm slung over Y/n's ��shoulder, a usual display of affection he reserves for Lily, but it seems that Y/n might have filled in that position.

Heat flushed my face and into my ears, Oh, so I don't pay attention to her for a couple of days and she goes and gets another boyfriend?"

My eyes started to get glossy, and my vision blurred. Sirius noticed my change in demeanor, rubbing the knuckles soothingly.

"What are you all looking at?" Y/n said, a bit to her voice, the class turned back around.

"You ok Rem?" Sirius asked just below a whisper.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I looked over to her, seeing that she'd taken her seat, and caught her shaking her head and leaning onto Dawn's shoulder.

Y/n used to do that to me.

"Don't worry about her Rem, ok, she's out of line," Sirius rubbed my shoulder.

"'Out of line', are you fucking kidding me Sirius?" James took his seat behind us, and his voice was just above a whisper, including the same bite as Y/n. "Remus have you not noticed the way you've been fucking treated Y/n? You two are such a shit show right now."

James gave that wry laugh, when someone was so frustrated, all they could do was laugh. "What the fuck." James laughed.

Sirius' hand was still on my shoulder, I grabbed his wrist gently and set it on the desk.

Finding my transfiguration book and retrieving my quill. Hearing a chair scrape I followed James' figure walk over to Y/n and just gave her a hug. Her face was red and eyes glossy. He leaned down and whispered into her ear.

She gave him a small nod of no, then a sickening display of affection, a hand behind her head pulling Y/n closer to his heart. Then a kiss on the top of her head, a seal on the deal.

Thankfully the class went by fast, I grabbed my belongings quickly wanting to get out of the restraining classroom. swinging my rucksack on I wait for Sirius to stuff all of his paper in to the single folder he kept.

"K' Rem I'm ready." Sirius grabbed my wrist gently, pulling me to our next class.

As we went through the door of our next class we dispersed to our seats. I sat next to James in this class, he wasn't here yet, never is. Sitting anxiously I waited for one of my best friends to show to their class.

Right before the bell to the next class commenced, James plopped in his seat with a huff. his face was read, and his usual curly hair a frizzed mess.

"James-"

"Really Remus? I thought you fucking loved her," James' glare was immanent on the side of my face. "Fuckin' hell Remus, get your shit together, if you don't love her, break up with her for merlin's sake."

James dug through his rucksack and pulled his charms book out, followed by parchment, and a quill.

"James," He turned to look at me in the eyes, piercing, icy, blues, bored into mine, "I do love her-"

"Then tell her that shit, Remus." James' voice was shaky, he loved Y/n like a sister.

I glanced back meeting Sirius' eyes. Fuck.

Y/n

- The Great Hall - 6:15 -

"So I was thinking, Fire whisky, tonight?" I looked up from my dinner, as I suggest what we drink. Though my friends only gave me a very puzzled look, "Um, am I uninvited to the Friday hang out?"

"Oh no, of course not, you practically evented the weekly party!" Dawn smiled brightly at me.

"Yea, I seriously need at least a bottle to myself, I had 4 exams this week." Wendy sighed, "Yes, please bring Fire whisky!"

"Haha, you guys miss me that much or something?" I joked around

"Uh yea, it's seriously not the same without you." Wendy sighed sadly.

"Well, I'm back, not planning on going anywhere." I held my hands up.

1148 words

Get ready,

bouta' knock your,

Damn socks off,

Until Next time,

#sirius black #remus lupin

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pulaasul · 4 years ago

Text

Phantom Protectors

While on the run alongside many muggle-borns and half-bloods, Ryuji, Ren, and Futaba discussed what they can do to contribute to the war. They might just take a page out of Akechi's book.

A/N: It's Ryuji's birthday, I want to write a story wherein he's BAMF. So yeah.

[FFN] [AO3]

---------

"Remember when Morgana said that if we say Noseless's name, we'd get tracked?" Ryuji questioned his companions.

"What are you planning, Ryuji?" Futaba groaned. "I thought we were supposed to be patrolling the surroundings."

"What's on your mind, Ryuji?" Ren questioned his best friend.

"What if we help diminish Noseless's forces?" Ryuji asked.

"In case you forgot, none of us are capable of fighting hordes and hordes of people," Futaba pointed out.

"We fought hordes and hordes of Shadows." Ryuji argued.

"That was different." Futaba insisted. "We had recovery items on hand, this time, we don't."

"No, Ryuji has a point," Ren nodded. "Reducing Noseless's forces would help everyone involved in this war."

"But we can't fight an army of them."

"Who said anything about fighting them head-on?" Ren smirked. "I think it's time we stop holding back."

"They could die." Futaba exclaimed.

"Akechi's right," Ryuji offered. "This is war, it's kill or be killed.'"

"We're fighting a losing battle if we keep fighting on the defensive," Ren stated. "Especially since we're the only ones protecting a large group of runaways from Noseless's forces."

"I guess, you two do have points," Futaba relented. "What's the plan?"

"Disillusionment charm and the ultimate spells."

---------

Ryuji, hidden behind a Disillusionment charm, was walking around the forest, far away from the safe house that he, Ren, and Futaba had established for the muggle-borns and half-bloods that ran away from Voldemort's regime.

"Voldemort has no nose!" Ryuji yelled at the top of his lungs.

And right at that moment, a multitude of Death Eaters surrounded Ryuji's invisible form. He immediately apparated right outside the circle that formed around him.

Thank god for Makoto and for drilling into everyone the basics of apparition, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts can apparate without splinching themselves.

"Homenum Revelio"

One of the Death Eaters cast, and just like that, Ryuji was revealed to the group.

"Wild Thunder."

But before anyone could even cast a spell to capture Ryuji, or even kill, the Hufflepuff had cast his spell, and lightning struck every Death Eater in his line of sight.

Not even their hastily made shield charms were able to defend them from the strongest lightning spell Ryuji knew.

Ryuji looked at his victims and saw that there were still a number of survivors, all paralyzed from being shocked, but they survived nonetheless.

"Agneyastra."

Ryuji pointed his wand at the paralyzed Death Eaters as a number of flaming stones appeared in the sky and started falling on the survivors.

"That was for Cedric."

"Did you have to use Agneyastra too?" Futaba questioned.

"Well some of them were able to survive Wild Thunder," Ryuji shrugged. "If I had just left them, they would have another chance to attack."

Suddenly a beam of light struck the ground, a few miles away from where Ryuji and Futaba were.

"I think Ren's a bit eager." Ryuji pointed out.

"Seriously? Morning Star?" Futaba exclaimed.

"Aqua Eructo."

Futaba cast as pressurized water was expelled out of her wand and she began to douse out the flames that was a result of Ryuji's lightning spell. It would be no good to start a forest fire while they were still in it.

"Homenum Revelio."

Futaba pointed her wand to the sky, and a number of black dots appeared.

"More are incoming."

"Well, I have some decent control over this spell," Ryuji smirked. "Might as well use it."

"God's Hand."

A gigantic golden fist materialized in front of Ryuji. He pointed his wand at the Death Eater that has just landed, sending him flying back to the sky, unconscious. The Hufflepuff waved his wand and the golden hand mimicked every single movement Ryuji made with his wand, successfully defending himself from more of Voldemort's forces.

Eventually more and more of the Death Eaters were able to dodge the golden hand coming right at them.

Ryuji was about to fire off another lightning spell when Futaba exclaimed.

"What?!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Crap, some of these people are under the Imperious Curse." Futaba yelled.

"Let's burn their sleeves and see if they're marked or not," Ryuji suggested. "If I remember correctly, Akechi managed to inform us that the people under the imperious curse aren't marked with the Dark Mark."

"I'll go ahead and use a small maragi spell to burn their sleeves off." Futaba nodded.

"Maragi."

Futaba pointed her wand towards a familiar ginger person as small embers of fire suddenly consumed the sleeves of their assailants, including the ginger.

"Only Weasley's clear." Futaba declared.

'Petrificus Totalus."

Futaba knocked the Weasley in question and moved him towards where she and Ryuji were standing.

"Go ahead."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Ryuji smirked as he pointed his wand to the sky.

"Wild Thunder."

Lightning struck the other assailants, shocking all of them, some of them to death.

The few survivors were done in by two golden fists that both Ryuji and Futaba conjured.

"That's all of them, how do you think Ren's doing?"

Suddenly, a giant black snake just erupted from the ground, miles away from them.

"Black Viper. Didn't think Ren would use that one, considering our current enemy," Futaba admitted. "I do wonder why we haven't used the hama and mudo spells."

"I guess, they're just inaccurate, the number of times Ren missed with those spells was something," Ryuji shrugged. "It does look like that it's painless."

"Welp, let's meet up with Ren and return to the safe house." Futaba declared.

"Just a moment," Ryuji grinned as he got something from inside his pocket and placed it on the ground.

"Engorgio"

Ryuji enlarged the small object he got into a normal-sized car battery and placed it near a burnt tree. He enlarged pair of wires and connected it to the battery and placed it on the wet ground.

"I see what you did there."

"Living with the Diggorys, you'll learn something every day, especially if you hang out with Cedric most of the time." Ryuji shrugged. "Granger likes to claim that wizards don't have a shred of common sense, most of the time she's right, but once you explain some muggle stuff to the Diggorys, Cedric takes to it like a sponge on water."

"Oh? Ryuji with the metaphors?" Futaba raised an eyebrow.

"Like I said, I lived with the Diggorys, Cedric had some interesting ways for me to like being in school before arriving at Hogwarts."

"Wait, Cedric went to a muggle school?"

"Nope, he was homeschooled like your typical pureblood kid."

"But…"

"He learned from my books," Ryuji offered. "He then explains it to me, in a way that I could understand."

"So, he basically dumbs it down for you?" Futaba snickered.

"Ha ha, laugh it up." Ryuji rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face.

"If Cedric has been dumbing everything down for you, how'd you learn the Protean charm?"

"Cedric has like the patience of a saint, while he may have dumbed it down from the start, he was still patient enough to relay to me the typical explanation of a topic." Ryuji smiled as he remembered his older brother figure. "I think he would have made a very good Minister for Magic."

"Hard disagree there," Futaba immediately shot the idea down. "Power corrupts, I prefer that he stays a humble Hufflepuff, willing to help someone in need."

"We turned out fine, didn't we?"

Futaba merely raised an eyebrow at the claim.

"Fine, you win.' Ryuji sighed. "I just want it to be on record that both Morgana and I messed up on that one."

"I'm not denying that."

"Yet, I'm the only one who's blamed for the whole event."

"He's a cat, you're the vulgar kid, was there a question?"

"Geez, fine." Ryuji sagged. "Let's return to the safe houses and relieve Colin and the others from patrol."

"You really have taken to being the Creeveys' big brother despite you being the same age as Colin." Futaba snickered as she followed the Hufflepuff.

"I was reincarnated, it's not that far off."

"True enough."

#persona 5 #harry potter #ryuji sakamoto #ren amamiya #futaba sakura #story #phpr #phantom protectors

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team-free-will-oneshots · 6 years ago

Text

Friends

Title: Friends

Request/Prompt: Alright so I’ve had this idea on my mind for a while and would love to see it in writing but if you don’t want to then don’t worry about it. Sam and Dean are on a hunt with Cas when they all get captured. The boys ask Cas what to do and he’s like “Hold on a second. Let me pray.” And they’re wondering why he’s doing that. So he starts praying to some person named (Y/N) And lo and behold, an angel appears and saved them. When they’re safe, the boys are like “Who the crap is this?”And she’s like “I’m (Y/N).” Then Cas says “She’s my twin.” And they’re shocked but eventually get over it and she sticks around and is like Cas when he first came down and is very blunt and literal. She warms up slowly and a while later they’re all chilling and they mention something about her being such a great friend and she’s like “We’re friends?” And they say some fluffy stuff and yea. (Sorry it’s so long and please feel free to change whatever you need to!) Thanks! - @not-zari-tak

Pairing: Platonic TFW x female angel!reader

Warnings: I mean I guess violence a little ?? (angel smiting, nothing graphic)

Word Count: 1,922

note; here you go! I hope I did your idea justice, it was super fun to write! :)

_____

This was certainly not a part of the plan.

They were outnumbered - Sam and Dean were bound with rope in the corner, whilst Castiel was trapped in a burning ring of holy fire. Its flames leapt towards the roof of the abandoned warehouse, sending showers of sparks through the air that eventually found their home scattered across the gravel strewn ground. Three demons looked on glee - finally, they had achieved the unachievable.

“The infamous Winchesters,” one sneered, eyes flitting to black as he sauntered forwards with a taunting smirk. “At last, your time has run out.”

“We’ll be rewarded for your demise,” another chimed in, her blonde hair matted with blood as she wielded a curved, threatening blade. “The forces of Heaven and Hell combined couldn’t stop you or your… feathered friend-” she cast Castiel a disgusted glance - “but us? We’ll go down in history, conquerors of the unconquerable.”

“Who knows,” the third added with a sly glance, “we might even preside over your torture. What, you don’t think you’ll make it upstairs, do you? After everything you’ve done?”

Sam and Dean shared a solemn glance, each of them searching the other’s eyes in hopes that someone had a plan. They were disappointed, and as the demons turned away in discussion, Dean looked to Castiel.

“Cas. Please tell me you have an idea, cos I don’t see a way out of this,” he said urgently, keeping his tone low.

Cas considered his words gravely, mind running through all potential possibilities and crossing them, one by one, off the list of options. He was left with one recourse, a desperate one at that. He hadn’t spoken to her in years… could he get through to her? Would she even care? So much had changed since they’d last spoken…

But it was their only option.

“There’s… one possibility,” Castiel replied cautiously. “But I don’t know…”

“Cas, we’re kinda outta options here, buddy,” Sam interjected lightly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of panic at their predicament. Cas set his jaw, staring ahead as he nodded.

“I understand. Just a moment,” he excused, turning away from the brothers and closing his eyes. “Y/N…” he murmured, “if you can hear me, I know it’s been a while, but… I need a favour.”

“Who’s he talking to?” Dean hissed in confusion to Sam, who shrugged. The sudden fluttering of wings echoed through the space, and all three men span around in search of the noise’s source.

“Castiel. You called?”

---

You hadn’t spoken to your brother in what felt like years - his rebellion had turned Heaven on its head, a chaos only perpetuated by the Fall, and you spent most of your time struggling to find order in the mayhem. You’d look down on him whenever you had a spare moment, but he’d never reached out to you, and so you had kept yourself busy and distant, under the impression that Cas had all but forgotten you in favour of his new… acquaintances.

But when you heard his voice echo around your mind in a desperate plea, you found yourself itching to respond to his call. He must truly be in trouble to call on you, and despite your years of separation, you couldn’t find it within yourself to let your brother find pain when you could prevent it, or at least try to.

And so, you answered, immediately appearing in the warehouse you had tracked your twin to. It was warm and clogged with smoke from holy fire, the metal walls trapping the heat like an industrial oven. You saw the three demons a few metres ahead, their souls twisted and disfigured beneath their human meatsuits. Your lip curled in disgust, but before you could take care of them, you turned to your brother who was trapped within the flames.

“Castiel. You called?”

He turned to you immediately, a small smile crossing his face as he saw you for the first time in far too long, though the passing of time was but a blink of an eye to beings such as yourselves.

“Y/N,” he greeted, nodding in acknowledgment. The two men tied up in the corner jumped at your sudden appearance, turning to you with eyes widened in curiosity and betraying a touch of fear.

“You must be the Winchester brothers,” you said with a nod. “You’ve stirred quite a fuss of late.”

At last, the demons appeared to register your presence, spinning around with mouths etched into snarls.

“What are you doing here, angel?” one spat. “Run along home before you join your friend in the flames!”

A demure smile crossed your lips as you stalked forward leisurely, eyeing them with a predatory curiosity, not unlike a cat observing its prey. You tilted your head in amusement. “You think you can trap me so easily?” you scoffed. “Wow, I knew demons weren’t the brightest, but it seems this might be even easier than I first thought.”

You felt your eyes burning with your grace, and the demons winced at the light, stumbling away. “Now, now, there’s no need to fear,” you told them mockingly, moving forwards until they were trapped against a wall. You gently rested a hand on one’s forehead, and with an anguished scream, it fell as you smited it. The other two were quick to follow, and once the threat was vanquished, you waved your hand breezily and extinguished the flames trapping Castiel to his small patch of floor. He was quick to assist the Winchesters in attaining their freedom, and the two brothers turned to you warily.

“And who the hell are you?” Dean demanded, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you charming? I knew humans weren’t as polite as they once were, but I certainly expected at least a thank you,” you said icily. Castiel bowed his head in respect.

“Thank you, Y/N. Sam, Dean, this is my sister. I suppose she could be considered my twin.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Angels can have twins?”

“We were created simultaneously, and we’ve been informed on numerous occasions that our true forms hold a certain likeness to one another,” you informed him. “No matter - your human terms are irrelevant to me. Castiel is my brother, and now that he is safe, I should be leaving,” you said bluntly.

“Wait!” Castiel objected, and you looked at him questioningly. “Stay. You can come to the bunker with us. We can... catch up.”

You frowned. “Catch what?”

Cas opened his mouth to answer, but Dean cut him off. “Hey! You can’t just spring this on us and expect us to roll with it,” he exclaimed defensively. “We’ve known you for… how long now? And you never once mentioned a twin - that seems like the kind of thing that should come up! How do we know we can trust her? You said yourself it’s ‘been a while’, you weren’t even sure she’d come! Why didn’t you mention this?”

You shot Dean a cold stare, whilst Cas looked on patiently. “To be honest, I thought she was dead,” he said softly, staring at you sadly. “After the fall…” He trailed off, eyes gazing mistily into the distance.

“I would have come if you’d only called!” you spat. “You’re my brother, Castiel. Would it have hurt for you to check in on me? I certainly checked in on you!”

“You’ve watched over me?” Cas asked in surprise, and you huffed in annoyance.

“Of course I have. You’re my brother,” you replied gruffly. “I deduced you’d stopped caring after replacing me with your new friends - the least you could have done was call on me after making the mess you left me behind to clean up!”

Cas bowed his head, eyes wounded. “I’m truly sorry, Y/N. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

You huffed again. “Don’t be so foolish. You were forgiven the moment you contacted me,” you muttered. Your tone softened as you recalled his words. “Do you truly want me to stay?”

Dean and Sam were glancing between the two of you in bewilderment, hesitant to interrupt you and your brother’s argument.

“I do,” Cas said solemnly. “If Dean will allow it.” He glanced pointedly at the man, who cleared his throat and shrugged.

“I guess… since you saved us… only because Cas trusts you!” he eventually relented, shooting you a warning glance. Sam smiled at you warmly. At least one of the two had some semblance of etiquette.

“Then stay I shall,” you announce, “though I shan’t stay long. Heaven is still in shambles, and someone needs to tend to it.”

With this lingering in your mind, the four of you squeezed into the Impala and headed to the bunker.

---

Living with humans was… interesting, particularly since Sam and Dean seemed to both refute all knowledge you had of humans, whilst simultaneously displaying the most humanity you had ever encountered.

They lived the opposite of an ordinary lifestyle - not many humans lived in a secret underground bunker and hunted monsters for a living, or so you assumed - and yet, their incessant bickering, their exemplification of empathy, even their board game nights and their laughter all contributed to a sense of homeliness and familiarity that you had never felt before, not even in Heaven itself. You were starting to see why Castiel enjoyed their company.

It took them some time to warm up to you, and you to them, but eventually you found yourself helping them not out of obligation, but of desire. You wanted to see them happy, fulfilled, and after some time, you realised that they, too, seemed to care about you, a sensation that was altogether unfamiliar.

“Hey, Y/N, beer?” Dean offered as he headed to the kitchen. He, you, Cas and Sam were having a “movie marathon”, and though you didn’t quite grasp the ‘marathon’ aspect considering it mostly involved reclining lazily on various pieces of furniture, you found yourself enjoying the experience.

“No, thank you,” you said politely, turning back to the enthralling conversation you were having with Sam regarding your knowledge of ancient literature that seemed to endlessly fascinate him.

“You mean some texts survived the burning of Alexandria?” he asked eagerly, and you nodded.

“Of course - I saved some of my favourites, it would be in poor taste to let them perish,” you informed him. “I could lend you them, if you’d like.”

Sam’s eyes shone with awe. “Wow. You’re a great friend, Y/N.”

You stiffened at his fond words. “We’re… friends?” you asked meekly, and Sam nodded vigorously.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, and Dean affirmed this as he re-entered the room.

“Duh, you’ve saved our lives enough times that we’d be pretty stupid to call you anything but a friend now,” he noted. “Besides, you’re actually fun to hang out with. Unlike some people,” he said, casting a withering stare at Sam, who narrowed his eyes at his brother.

“Ha ha, very funny. Seriously though, Y/N - didn’t you realise we considered you a friend?”

You felt yourself blush, and Sam smiled at your antics affectionately. “Well, I- I wasn’t sure. Friendship is a… new concept for me. I like it, though,” you added hastily.

“Well, good, cos you’re not getting rid of us anytime soon,” Dean said.

“I’ll cheers to that,” Sam agreed, clinking his can with Dean’s. You turned to Castiel, who had been a silent observer. You gave him a smile.

“I can see why you rebelled, now. This? This is worth it.”

#team free will #tfw #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #team free will x reader #tfw x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #team free will imagine #tfw imagine #reader insert #angel!reader #supernatural one shot #spn oneshot #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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eighthmnth-blog · 5 years ago

Text

-------------- and he shall be levon ( and he shall be a good man ) and he shall be levon ( in tradition with the family plan )

and i oop

none of this is going to make sense. im really really tired. ive been in a hot car all day sldjskld baking. crispy. now im going to sleep before work,,, but wrow hi im r, im way too excited to be here. this intro is ?? too long but after all these years ive never learned how to stfu. i COULD have done this sooner but i also turned my brain off last night and watched baby driver for the first time and wow 10/10 would recommend sdksjdlkas i dont have discord because im living in the stone age but im available via tumblr ims if anyone wants to plot --- ill prop make a proper connection page 2mmrow,, just fuck him up. honestly. ruin him. take out the trash.

basics

[ luke hemmings. twenty-three. cismale. he/him. | muse 4b. ] levon by elton john just came on the radio and it made me think of august ferland. they’ve been in sundance for their whole life and they’re currently an administrative assistant. if you’re looking for them, try by the sheriff’s office, locals say they’re there a lot. [ r. she/them. 20. est. ]

SUBPLOT if someone asked who sundance’s bad seed is, most people would say muse 4a. always getting in trouble for one reason or another, muse 4a has just never been one to follow rules. maybe that’s why muse 4b, the sheriffs child, is so drawn to them. muse 4a and muse 4b have been hooking up pretty casually, but muse 4b’s soft nature is causing them to fall for sundance’s baddest seed while muse 4a is only interested in hooking up. will muse 4a break muse 4b's heart? what would the sheriff say if they found out?

nonsensical ramblings

the world is black and white as a child. a young august planted in front of one static plagued television, soaking up the world of cops and robbers. a mop of blond hair and a missing front tooth, beaming proudly “ MY FATHER’S THE SHERIFF “ , a hero in the boy’s mind. black & white. good versus bad.

then comes middle school, high school, and everything thereafter. it’s living under a microscope. small-town living & dealing out the law don’t tend to equate to a private life. sometimes august knows people’s business before they do —- other times the positions are reversed. it wasn’t the easiest of days, far from the romanticized lifestyle often portrayed on screen. the chill of cold shoulders never fades over the years. children told to steer clear of the ferland boy lest they find themselves under sundance’s watchful eye. the SHERIFF’S SON, an undesired spotlight. as the years come and go, he wonders how he once wore that title with pride.

they made an angel of him. almost golden. of course, the teenage years are a rocky patch for anyone. the spark of rebellion, even he wasn’t immune. eighteen and sneaking out with his father’s pistol, shooting cans and bottles --- until he puts one single bullet through a neighbor’s window. that summer spent wasting away under a scorching sun, completing mundane tasks to earn enough to pay for the replacements. it’s out of character for him, but they write it off as a minor scare --- a teenager. no one was hurt, so all’s well that ends well. right ?

he tires of daily life. the yearning for something more never dies, it just lays dormant. only rarely given a breath of life. he grows exhausted of the endless pestering and gossip tucked in church pews. of the polite smiles and polished image. ‘ when will you settle down ? find a nice girl ? are you going to take over the station ? look at how much you’ve grown. ‘twenty-three years too long in sundance.

he knew the names before he saw them in ink at the station. his father’s endless rants, the population that put grey in his hair. miscreants, that august was explicitly told never to associate with. words that fell on deaf ears and then he goes the extra mile. he can’t help but feel a hint of shame, but never enough for him to put a stop to the sneaking. the town’s bad seed --- the sheriff’s greatest adversary and the cause of most, if not all, of his migraines. then there was august, like a moth to an open flame. it must have been some ultimate form of karma when he realizes something’s changed. the rules of the game aren’t so simple anymore, there’s more at stake. just like that, he’s damned them all. the heart wants what it wants, and now he’s cast as the fool. play with fire, get burned.

1% more brainpower used here ( background broken down simply )

his aesthetic is that feeling you get when all your extended family ask about your dating life at the family barbecue. vague ??? maybe so, but it triggers something in me.

he’s dumb, and a tad naive lbh, but this is august.. the sheriff’s son if that hasn’t become,,, really obvious. in the brief readings i did beforehand, it seems like small-town sheriffs can sometimes have a bit of a spotlight on themselves and their family so i kind of envisioned him as being borderline lonely in his youth due to the fact people don’t want to find themselves under the microscope by being friends with the sheriff/’s family. i think the whole sheriff thing has been a big,,, oof in his life. there are probably places he can’t go because his dad arrested the cook in the back or things along those lines.

he’s bored. he has a wifi connection. if his family didn’t think he wasn’t going to get glimpses of the outside world and want to get the fuck out of dodge then idk my dude.

he works as an administrative assistant at the station,, so he’s mainly handling the paperwork and stuff, but id imagine he's a bit of a jack of all trades in the field. takes calls, but also probably gets sent out for the really shitty jobs like the old lady who calls ten times a day for nothing, or that she’s getting calls from scammers :))) but he ain’t going out arresting anyone or doing anything serious. just the “my cat’s in a tree” bs and getting coffee.

in the public eye, he’s probably a real golden child. volunteering, going to church, helping out wherever he can. does he have a genuine interest in any of that ? absolutely not. but it reflects well on his family and on himself. he has a reputation to upkeep. he only went up to high school education-wise, and in a town that probably isn’t too fast crime wise, he has enough free time to be active in the community.

i dont know what suffers more his brain or his heart

n sync vc: bi bi bi

before my dumbass forgets, he does have a good relationship with his parents,,, when he’s not being a fucking moron. follow your heart?? not good advice for him. his mom is currently abroad. aug probably gets his desire to run from her, she’s currently teaching english abroad. he’s v proud of her tyvm. his dad?? yeah. i mean obvs aug isnt very honest about EVERYTHING. he’s gotten good at telling white lies, but he still loves his dad. he’s also an only child so all eyes on him rIP.

i have a shitty pinterest board for him HERE there's barely anything there but yknow

he’s currently being sized for his clown shoes

thats all folks

#sundanceintro #im LATE #i spent all day driving my little brother to overnight camp in ?? the middle of nowhere #this is so messy

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sweetheartjeongguk · 6 years ago

Text

twitchy witchy girl

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: kiki’s delivery service au, fluff, minor angst

rating: pg

warning(s): oc is mean to jimin but makes up for it in the end, slight public humiliation

word count: 3.3k+

summary: maybe human boys aren’t so bad after all.

a/n: here’s a late birthday gift to the loml park jimin

masterlist | studio ghibli masterlist

“He’s here to see you again.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Honey, stop slamming your head against the counter. You’re going to give yourself a concussion.”

“Sounds like a fun way to go.”

“He’s been waiting outside for quite some time.” The older woman hums, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other resting on top of your shoulder.

When you first arrived in the new beachside town, you had high hopes of being incredibly popular and staying in a fabulous mansion where you practically drown in luxury. Instead, you’re stuck living in a one-room apartment with your cat familiar, Mochi, and working for Lee Eunji and her husband as their very first delivery witch.

While most of the townspeople saw witches as nothing but troublemakers, Eunji saw a new opportunity.

“Tell him I’m dead.” You rub at your forehead once the throbbing became too much.

“He said he’d buy a Ouija board.”

“Tell him I moved away.”

“He can literally see you.” Eunji scoffs, waving a hand towards the front of the store.

With a disgruntled huff, you lift your head to follow Eunji’s line of sight.

Park Jimin stands with his hands tucked in his front pockets and an exasperated look on his face. He paces in front of the doorway, muttering something to himself while glancing into the store from the corner of his eye. When he notices your staring, he skids to a stop.

To this day, you have no clue why he’s interested in you. Sure, you’re a witch who can do all types of magic and fly on a broomstick which is enough to entertain the grumpiest of fiends. But one thing’s for sure – you and Park Jimin are two different people heading down two different paths. He’s the stereotypical rich boy who’s loved and admired by all simply for breathing air. Meanwhile, you’re the scary girl who can’t hold a decent conversation with another person without them sputtering something about magic and witchcraft.

“See?” Eunji chuckles at your obvious discomfort. “Can’t back out of this one, bud. Just go see what he wants.”

“Do you think you can bail me out of jail after I charm him into a cockroach and squish him with my foot?” You lean your cheek against the crook of your elbow in thought.

“How about…” Eunji brushes back the strands of hair that fall across your face. “…you not resort to murder and just talk to him like a normal human being?”

“You’re just saying that because you think he’s pretty. He’s cast a spell on you too.” You roll your eyes as Eunji motions for Jimin to come inside.

“You’re the only witch here, sweetheart.” Eunji winks before going to check on the freshly baked loaves of bread resting in the kitchen.

Jimin glows brighter than usual, his swept-back blond hair hidden underneath a red beret that makes him look like a stereotypical French boy. You snort to yourself when you take in the rest of his outfit – black-and-white striped shirt tucked into slim-fitting slacks with sleek black dress shoes.

Talk about Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes.

“Why, hello there, Mr. Park! What can we do for you today?” Eunji peeps her head through the kitchen doorway.

“Hi, Mrs. Lee.” Jimin replies smoothly, hands crossed behind his back in an innocent manner. “I was wondering if I could grab Y/N for a second.”

You could barely hold back your disgust when you notice Eunji melting under Jimin’s sweet façade. He has virtually everyone in town wrapped around his stupid chubby pinky finger, and you refuse to let yourself fall for one of his tricks.

“Y/N’s not here right now.” You grit your teeth. “Please leave a message after the fuc—"

“Y/N! Be nice.”

You push off of the stool you were sitting in behind the counter with a grunt. Your muscles are still sore from your delivery yesterday. Thankfully, there aren’t any major deliveries that afternoon so you’re free to stuff your face with as many as chocolate pastries as your heart desires.

Jimin draws in a small breath as you approach, mentally preparing his little speech he wrote on his way to the bakery that afternoon. He starts to open his mouth but only lets out a pathetic squeak as you roughly brush past him on your way to the pastry tray on the other side of the room.

“Y/N!” Eunji scolds before turning to Jimin with an apologetic pout. “I’m so sorry about her, she’s still trying to get used to everything.”

“Oh no, I understand!” Jimin chuckles awkwardly, a hand reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Anyways…Y/N, there’s s-something I wanted to ask you.”

You hum absentmindedly as you stuff a large creampuff into your mouth. You wonder if you could cast a spell to speed up his spiel so that you’ll still have time to catch the new episode of your favorite television show that’s scheduled to air in a half hour.

“My aviation club at school is hosting a party this Saturday.” Jimin announces, his voice wavering from subtle nerves. “I was wondering if you would like to come.”

You silently scold your heart for thumping a little harder than usual. Attending a party with Jimin as his…date. The word should have sent a disgusted shiver down your spine, but all you get is a flood of butterflies in your stomach.

For some reason, the thought of Jimin in a tuxedo didn’t seem so bad.

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” Eunji claps her hands excitedly. “It’ll be a great chance for you to make some friends, Y/N!”

“Oh yeah, definitely!” Jimin blurts out. “The rest of the guys are just dying to meet a witch. They’re really curious to learn more about how your broom works!”

Just like that, the mood dies. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t just die. It comes barreling towards the earth in a frenzy of fire and heat, striking the ground with tremendous force and destroying everything in its path.

He didn’t want you to go with him – he just wants to show you off like some circus act to his friends.

In that moment, you’re reminded of why you didn’t trust him. He might have Eunji and everyone else fooled, but you know better. Park Jimin’s just like everyone else, and you curse yourself for nearly falling into his trap.

Eunji watches inquisitively as you make your way towards the boy holding the invitation in both hands. There’s a tight grin that stretches across your face in a Cheshire Cat-like manner. The sight is quite unsettling to Eunji, but Jimin still beams at you as if he’s found the answers to his prayers.

“An invitation just for me?” You grab the invitation, ignoring the pleasant sensation of his soft skin brushing against yours.

“Yup! I saved one just for you.” Jimin nods excitedly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes! We’re really interested in learn—”

Rrrrip.

Jimin’s smile breaks as you tear the card in half. You barely hear Eunji gasping in the background as you shred the invitation into several jagged pieces. With a snap of your fingers, the slivers of paper burst into flames and float pathetically to the linoleum floor in a burnt crisp.

In an instant, your crazed smile transforms into a disgusted scowl. “Thanks for the invite, but I’d prefer company with people who don’t use me as their personal flying monkey.”

“Y/N!” Eunji hisses sharply.

You ignore her. “I know you think that you’re being cute and funny, but honestly, you’re just annoying and pathetic.”

Jimin stands frozen in the middle of the bakery, his bleary eyes fixated on the burnt strips scattered across the floor. Eunji rushes over from the kitchen to collect the mess with a broom and dustpan, glancing up when she notices your figure escape through the backdoor towards your living quarters.

“Jimin, I am so sorry about her.” Eunji sighs in exasperation. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

Jimin nods stiffly. “It’s n-no problem. I understand…”

Eunji opens her mouth at another attempt of a worthless apology, but Jimin’s already turning on his heel and heading out of the door, the tiniest sniffle betraying his quiet composure. Eunji watches in pity as Jimin disappears down the street with his shoulders slumped forward and his hands tucked into his front pockets once more.

He’s lucky that his route continues straight down the road. That way, Eunji doesn’t notice the tears dribbling down his cheeks reddened from embarrassment.

Ever since you burned his invitation in his face, Eunji hasn’t spoken to you. After you escaped the bakery and hid in your room to watch tv with Mochi, she barged in with the pile of ashes in her hands. She promptly tosses the charred papers on top of your nightstand, turning on her heel with a repulsed sneer.

“I’m disappointed in you. Honestly.”

Whether you like it or not, your chest twinges with guilt. Apart from being like a second mother to you, Eunji’s your best friend. When you faced the threat of living out on the streets with no food or money, she was the one who took you under her wing and offered you not only a job but a place to sleep and eat.

Now, it’s as if the sight of you makes her sick to her stomach. This time, you couldn’t even blame Park Jimin for it.

“If he just left me alone like I told him millions of times before, we wouldn’t be having this issue.”

“That may be,” Mochi purrs. “But you did embarrass him by burning his invitation in his face. The very same invitation he had kept specifically for you and only you.”

“So?” You grumble. “He only invited me because he wanted me to entertain his dumb friends.”

The gentle evening breeze soars in through your open window, chilling you to the bone. You slightly curse at yourself for not dressing in warmer pajamas, but your earnings for the month wouldn’t give you much. You’d borrow from Eunji, but 1) most of her wardrobe right now are maternity clothes and 2) she currently refuses to speak with you.

You let out a long whine, sounding exactly like your five-year-old self who cried when a wave toppled her over during a family vacation to the beach. “Do I have to?”

Mochi stares at you without a word.

“What if I fake my death?”

“Y/N…”

“Okay, fine…but if he doesn’t accept my apology, then can I fake my death?”

You feel silly.

Dressed in a white dress that molds tightly against your waist and puffs out at the skirt, you look and feel like a creampuff. After begging for her forgiveness for two hours straight, Eunji goes to work on preparing your party outfit. You pout about the centimeter-thick layer of foundation and powder, but Eunji shrugs off your complaints with an uncaring smirk. Perhaps it’s your punishment for not listening to her in the first place.

“It’s itchy.” You whine as the lace fabric continues to scratch against your skin.

Eunji holds in her laughter as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “If only you focused on your special magic training and not on hurting the feelings of people who like you, you could have learned how to cast an anti-itching spell.”

“Spells are hard…” You pout. “And he doesn’t like me, he just wants to pretend to get to know me so that he can tell people that he knows a witch. It’s exploitation at its finest.”

Eunji shakes her head in disbelief. “I’d think you witches would have some type of clairvoyance about you, but you’re completely dense.”

“I’m not a psychic.” You roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that no one in this town cares enough to educate themselves on witch culture.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a grumpy old troll, then maybe you could educate those people about witches.” Eunji pokes your nose with the end of a concealer brush as she finishes up the last touch-ups to your makeup.

“I shouldn’t have to.” You try to cross your arms, but you find it almost impossible considering how tight the chest of the dress was. “For once, I want someone to learn for themselves for once instead of using me for laughs and giggles.”

Eunji sighs in defeat. While the makeup and fancy dress did wonders to brighten your usual gloomy appearance, the frown marring your brow seems to remain there permanently.

“Honey…” Eunji says quietly. “I might not be a witch, but I know a thing or two about love. That boy definitely likes you for you, not because he wants to cross ‘Meet a witch’ off his bucket list.”

You continue to fiddle with the lace of the skirt, nearly ripping out a stray thread before laying your palms flat in your lap.

“I’ve never seen a boy so adamant about visiting a girl everyday even if he can just get one sentence in.” Eunji laughs softly. “Reminds me of my husband when we were first dating. He wouldn’t let me go for one second.”

You try to laugh, but you end up looking like you swallowed something inedible.

“I’m not saying that you need to date him or anything.” Eunji shakes her head. “I’m just saying that you should give Jimin a chance. You’d do good with some friends in this town, even if it’s just him.”

With that, Eunji holds out a clenched fist. You’re quick to grab whatever’s in her hands, but you instantly blanch when the substance fills your palms. While most of the invitation’s burnt to a crisp, one part of the paper remains semi-readable.

“Ms. Witch…”

A couple days ago, you’d be rolling your eyes and threatening to shove your broomstick where the sun won’t shine if Jimin had called you by that nickname. Now, all you could feel is a delightful warmth that spreads from your face down to your toes.

You’re screwed. You’re definitely screwed.

“You might want to head off now!” Eunji yells. You lift your head in surprise when you notice that she’s already escaped into the kitchen. “It looks like it’s going to rain! Better not be late!”

Desperately shoving the remnants of the invitation into your bra, you barely spare a coherent farewell as you dash into the street and kicking off the ground with your broomstick between your legs. As you head southwest towards the party, you force several deep breaths as you settle the anxiety that plagues your veins and kickstarts your heart into overdrive.

“This better work.” You whisper to yourself, ignoring the tiny droplets of water that begin to fall from the cluster of clouds above.

Your jaw drops at the vast size of the house. Classical music plays on repeat as the guests mingle around the dining room that looks as though it could fit an entire country and a half inside. You observe from the outside, completely unbothered as the rain soaks through your clothes and streaks your makeup. While you take a moment to admire the decorations strung across the walls and on the ceiling, your eyes wander in search of one individual in particular.

“Excuse me.” Someone coughs.

Behind you, a boy watches you with a dirty look, almost as if he wishes to say, “You obviously look like you don’t belong here”. While he isn’t far from the truth, you couldn’t help but mirror his unimpressed glare.

“I’m sorry, but this party is reserved for members only.” He retorts snootily. “I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Jokes on you, asshole, I have an invitation…” You answer quickly.

“Is that so?” He asks with a pretentious scoff. “Where is it?”

You choke on your words. You almost forgot that the evidence is literally shoved inside your cleavage. “U-Um…well the thing is…”

“Y/N?”

You, along with Mr. Stick-Stuck-High-Up-In-My-Ass, turn towards the new visitor. Your heart prickles with something foreign at the sight of Park Jimin in a suit and tie and a cute flower tucked inside his pocket.

“Hi…” You reply meekly, eyes fixated on the growing puddle on the edge of the sidewalk.

You completely miss the elated glint in Jimin’s eyes.

“She’s your guest, Park?” The boy asks warily, still viewing you as some kind of creature who escaped from the Black Lagoon.

You’ll be sure to add a little something extra to his hors d’oeuvres when you get the chance.

“Yeah, she’s my plus-one.” Jimin answers confidently. “I didn’t get to give her the invitation, but her name’s on the list if you want to check.”

The boy watches Jimin carefully before rolling his eyes. “I’ll be sure to check the list. Be sure that next time, everyone has an invite before they just show up unannounced and unwanted.”

Oh, how you wish you could use your magic for bad just once. Sure, you might face lifelong consequences that could inevitably affect your future…but would one time really make a difference?

“Sorry about him.” Jimin scratches the back of his neck. “Jihyun can be pretty uptight sometimes…”

“I can handle uptight just fine.” You shrug awkwardly. “T-Thanks though.”

Jimin clears his throat. “Yeah, of course! Anytime…”

There’s a brief moment of silence that you wish you could break without looking like a complete fool. Thankfully, Jimin takes the initiative from you.

“Y-You look really pretty.”

Thankfully, the foundation that Eunji caked onto your cheeks covers any sign of redness. Unfortunately, it did make you look like you took a dip into a giant frosting container.

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You force yourself to playfully nudge at his shoulder. “You clean up rather nicely.”

“T-Thanks, my mom picked it out.” Jimin immediately clamps his mouth shut. You smile at the obvious embarrassment that floods his features and purses his lips into a demure pout.

It’s cute. In fact, it’s the type of cute that makes you want to drop everything and bring him back home to introduce to your entire family.

If only Eunji were here, she’d be getting a kick out of your emotional turmoil.

“Uh, a-anyways,” Jimin stammers nervously. “Why did you come tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, making Jimin quickly backpedal on his words.

“N-Not that you’re not allowed to come! You’re totally allowed to come, it’s totally fine by me. I j-just thought you didn’t want to…you know, after you…burned the invitation to a crisp.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me…”

Jimin pales as you dig inside to collect the blackened scraps, your tongue poking through the side of your mouth in concentration. He quickly diverts his attention towards the large oak tree hanging overhead, trying hard not to think about how your breasts are half a foot away from his face.

“There we are!”

Hesitantly craning his neck towards you once more, Jimin meets your upturned hands that cradle the destroyed scraps of the invitation. He cocks an eyebrow at this – what’s he supposed to do with that?

Jimin swallows his retort when suddenly, the papers swirl around almost like in a mini tornado, fusing back together. With a poof, the paper transforms from a charcoal black to its original eggshell white, complete with the original detailing and “Dear Ms. Witch…” at the very top of the card. As a special treat, you add an extra touch that Jimin can’t help but crack a smile at.

There’s a crude stick figure drawing of the two of you sitting side-by-side with a tiny pink heart floating above your heads. It may have been a trick of the light, but Jimin could swear that your little stick figure presses a kiss to stick figure Jimin’s cheek.

“Ta-da…” You smile shyly as you slip the paper into Jimin’s hand. “It’s corny, I know, but…”

“W-What changed your mind?” Jimin asks bashfully as he presses the card to his chest.

You shrug teasingly. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were. Also, it helps that you’re a little cute.”

“And the truth?”

“Eunji threatened to steal my broomstick and sell it in next week’s yard sale if I didn’t show up.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

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savinscripts · 5 years ago

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❝ Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time. ❞

TW: Assault, Drug usage, Mutilation, Violence

“I just don’t understand how no one has been able to track any of them down,” Faye said to the wand tech behind the counter. She tapped a black-laquered nail against a list that she had laid on the desk: wands that had been claimed stolen or missing (twenty-five total) since a few months before the first murder. “Not even a trace?”

The tech, a kid that looked barely out of Hogwarts, with a large boil on his neck, shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am. We don’t have any record of these wands.” He swallowed, shuffling a few papers as he silently wished Faye would go away. The boil moved up and down.

Faye sighed, though it was more a growl than anything. “Well find some,” she snapped, leaving a quickly made copy of the list with him and turning around to storm out. “Amateurs,” she muttered, marching past Fane who leaned against the wall outside, looking entirely too smug for so early in the morning.

“I mean… does anyone around here know how to do their job besides me?” she complained as he fell in step beside her.

Fane lingered outside the office of the unfortunate wand tech to face Faye’s wrath today, arms folded and propped up against the doorframe. He didn’t even need to look inside to know young Timothy likely looked half-petrified of the woman in front of him, and the fact that Fane could make such a woman melt caused a smirk to play idly at his lips. His head tilted back as Faye growled and snapped at the poor boy, incompetent fool, was all Fane had to think on that particular matter.

As Faye marched out of the office casting him a withering look that only served to make his smugness grow into a borderline (and very inappropriate) grin. “I do,” he answered as he fell into step with her as the pair of them swept through the office, Faye’s co-workers parting like the red-sea when they saw the death glare that seemed to be fixed on her features. It was comical, Fane thought, that these people had worked with her for so long yet knew nothing of the true person she was.

A few years he’d been back and he knew her better than all of them put together, “so,” he started, moving to perch on the edge of Faye’s desk when they reached her office “what’s our plan of action love?”

Faye had worked at the Ministry long enough - and garnered enough of a reputation - that most of the other long-time employees knew enough to get out of the way when they saw her coming. And even without her black cloak billowing behind her, and standing a literal head shorter than Fane, she cut an impressive and intimidating figure, dressed all in black - fire-resistant dragon-hide pants and boots, and a fitted top of the same material - with her blonde hair pulled back in a series of braids that kept it out of her way. The two together looked doubly intimidating. And if Faye’s general expression and body language didn’t deter someone from their path, Fane’s did.

On Faye’s part, the face she put on at work was an absolute necessity. Because any weakness, any vulnerability on her part can and would be used against her. Which was the main reason why she insisted that she and Fane keep their relationship professional when they were here. He was her weakness. The fewer people that knew that, the better. Though she was under no illusion that people didn’t whisper and gossip. Or that they didn’t suspect that they were more than just work partners.

It was lonely, pretending not to need anyone. And it ostracized her a fair bit. But she was damn good at her job, so that made up for it. And she had Fane besides. He was more than enough.

“Well, of course you do,” she snapped. Not at him, but at the general idiocy of her morning. “You’re not an imbecile.”

They entered her office, and Faye locked the door behind them as Fane hopped up on her desk. She tossed the list of wands on the pile of paperwork already sitting there, and moved off to the file cabinet on the back wall. “Well, until the wand department literally pulls their head out of their ass… and unless you can resurrect Olivander - joking, by the way,” she said as a distracted afterthought. “...looks like we’re doing our own digging.” She shuffled through a few files before finding the one she needed.

Coming over, she handed it to him. “How much do you know about Joyeuse? Local underground crime ring that fronts as a nightclub. They’ve got their hands in a bit of everything. Drugs - namely their own brand of E - racketeering, murder for hire, prostitution. You name it, they’ve got a piece of it. Including…” She flipped the file open and pointed at one page in particular. “... stolen wands. Among other things. Though they always come out clean somehow. Books and all.”

She grinned up at him. “Wanna crash a party?”

Weakness was a very technical and specific consideration, and though Fane would have been both pleased and utterly terrified to learn that he was Faye’s weakness (note, just as she was his) he wouldn’t have ultimately known what to do about it. So, like all things Fane didn’t like (or want) to think about he set it aside in the ‘things we don’t talk about’ area where almost all uncomfortable things ended up being put to rest until they really had to be confronted. Though there was also the consideration of the fact Faye’s so-called ‘rules’ Fane viewed more as guidelines which he was always curious to see how far they would bend before Faye gave in. A part of him knew it was childish, but could it be helped when so much of his own childhood had been so tainted and corrupted by darkness that he now tried to reclaim some of that now?

In his rather childish attempts to rile her up, or to push against her rules and stipulations with questions of why? Which in turn led to some rather interesting encounters that her desk and the backroom could likely testify to.

Brightened, despite the waspish attitude she had adopted Fane continued to trot alongside her grinning like the cat who had got the cream not that he had to say anything more than what he already had. Instead, he perched on her desk and swung his legs idly as Faye rummaged about detailing what they were going to do next. “Ooh, off the books, sneaky sneaky sort of stuff?” he waggled his brows clearly excited by this particular prospect.

Though as the file was handed over he flicked it open skimming the text and idly flipping over the surveillance photos pinned inside. “I’ve heard their name thrown about here and there,” not to say that Fane specifically may or may not have had a few run ins himself with them in the past. Narcotics were-- well, a thing he dabbled in which meant needing to be aware of the potential suppliers and their respective competition. Not that he brought that up right now. “Probably have informants to tip them off.” Still, he looked up at her with a chesire cat grin blooming across his lips “so long as we get to dress up ‘n’ have some fun while we’re there.”

The bare bones truth was that there wasn’t anything to be done about it. Fane was the one thing that Faye would lose all her good sense over when it came to protecting him. When it came to stopping anyone that would ever harm him again. Not that he needed it on most days mind. If anything, he needed protecting from himself more than any outside threat. From the harm he could do and not even realize it until he’d drank too much, smoked too long, or cut too deep. It was a fact that would never change. But it was also a fact that Faye knew could be used against her if anyone knew just how close they were… or just how much they meant to each other. It was one of the reasons that kept them in Muggle London more than Wizarding London when they went out together. Not always, as they weren’t truly trying to hide anything, but it was more an unspoken agreement that it was simply safer. For now.

Which is also why she kept up the snappish attitude at work, even with him. Though it wasn’t hard, considering the irritation that crept over her the moment she entered the lift most days. And honestly, if Fane hadn’t been there to buffer her, it would have been a thousand times worse.

Though when it came to Things We Don’t Discuss, Faye had her own chest of topics that was slam full. Fane being her weakness was only one of them. Her scars and the pain they caused was also there, though not buried quite as deep since Fane was completely in the know as far as that went, even when Faye denied it herself. Roger was in there, the bastard. Her Gram’s death. The life she’d put aside - marriage, family, children… - when she thought Fane was dead, because she couldn’t imagine it with anyone but him. The way she’d sought out muggle men for sex - violent, rough, degrading sex - as a way of coping with the pain of losing him and the pain of being so lonely. All that and more was in there, locked tight until, like Fane’s own, there was no avoiding the mess that overflowed.

But anyway…

His chiding playfulness was tolerable most days. Routine and familiar. Comforting even. And yes, Faye had rules about work that Fane more or less (emphasis on the ‘less’) respected. Though if she were honest, the fact that he tried so hard to break them nearly every single day - though thankfully even Fane knew when absolute seriousness was required - turned Faye on. The way he could work her up with merely a few well-placed words. Or the way he pushed and pushed and pushed until he hit the limits of her tolerance. And she tried, she really truly tried, but god-fucking- damn him he knew exactly what buttons to press to have her sound-proofing her office. Again.

“Sneaky, sneaky,” Faye nodded, handing over the file. He looked like an overgrown kid, sitting there swinging his legs as he waited. It was endearing, cute even. Though Faye wouldn’t dare call him ‘cute.’ At least not right now. Maybe later, when she wanted to push his own buttons a bit. Right now, they actually had work to do.

It didn’t surprise her that Fane was at least semi-familiar with the crime ring. She knew what sorts of things he kept hidden in his flat. The opium he didn’t even bother to hide anymore, and truth be told, Faye had been tempted to join him once or twice. The other things he kept more out of sight, as he was less prone to using them, though she knew he had them. And he knew she knew. But like everything else about him, Faye accepted it. She might not like it, but she took the bad with the good with the ugly. Because she loved him. And that would never ever change.

“Probably,” she nodded again. The grin he turned on her stirred the part of her that was always ready for action. The dueler. The Keeper. The adrenaline seeker. She grinned back, taking the file and closing it. “Guess we should do some shoppin’ then, hm? On the Ministry’s dime.”

Fane knew there were certain bits and pieces of contraband that if Faye snooped around his place too long and too thoroughly she might find, though most of the serious things were very deliberately kept in specific stashes away from prying eyes. Not that he particularly considered Faye prying eyes considering she’d seen some of his worse hobbies and still not kicked him to the curb all because she cared. She cared so much that it baffled him on some days when he sat down to try and even think through why she even felt that way because a part of him, even now, doubted he was worthy of it. Even with her efforts to show him otherwise it was a long and slippery road back to the belief he might truly be worth a fraction of anything to her because what did he have to offer?

A failed magical prodigy with an inclination for dabbling in narcotics of all sorts and a penchant for letting his emotions cloud his judgement to the point of disastrous outcomes. What sort of prospect did he really have to offer? Just as in the field he was a potential liability because of his brash attitude and inability to conjure a patronus. Fane could perform extreme feats of astounding wandless magic, but the simplistic act of conjuring a patronus as a form of defence? He’d never been able to do it and as a boy he’d been convinced it was just another sign of the truth. That there was nothing good inside of him. That he was crazy and set to end up on a dark and demented path like all the rest of his family.

Just a matter of time.

He’d seen the way people had looked at him, suspicion brewing around every corner and their judgement had helped to develop the barbed acerbic tongue with which he sometimes lashed out. Faye could curb it occasionally but other days? Other days there was nothing for it but to endure and know that something had likely triggered a particular outburst and that once he’d calmed it would be better. Faye knew that for the most part most if not all of his outbursts were but a momentary rage that would burn hot and fast before simmering out into something quieter and potentially more destructive if left alone. But now wasn’t a time for that. Now, Fane was curious about what they were going to get up to later.

Despite everything Fane could still be incredibly red-blooded, and the fact they would be getting to go undercover tonight? Oh he couldn’t wait. His lips curled into a devilish grin, no need to say anything for her to know his mind was already diving straight into the gutter. “Only if you promise to let me pick you out something pretty hm?”

Faye knew that Fane doubted himself sometimes. Doubted his worth. Doubted that he deserved kindness, or affection, or even love. But funny enough, she knew he didn’t doubt her. Didn’t doubt them. Merely whether or not he should be receiving everything that Faye gave him. Or wanted to give him in the future. Faye doubted herself sometimes too. Though not to the extremes that Fane’s psyche - his past and the horrors he’d experienced - took him to. Though she never doubted him. Even in his darkest times, which had lessened over the last couple of years, she never doubted his love for her. Nor did she ever lose the absolute trust she had in him. He pissed her off. He infuriated her. He made her want to strangle him. (And she was sure she did the same to him). But she also wanted to spend her life with him. Nothing would ever change that.

She knew what people said about him. The whispers that floated around the Ministry. Around the city too. Death Eater. Traitor. Sadist. Murderer. Mentally unstable. All manner of things that no one had the courage to say to his face. Or Faye’s. And for the most part they were ignored. Faye didn’t believe them. Though she knew the history of Fane’s family as well as anyone else in their world. But history was full of lies and deceit. People saw what they wanted to see. And people always wanted a villian. Someone to blame for the bad things that were happening.

But like Hell would Faye let anything like that land on Fane. Let them dare try. It would be the absolute last thing they ever did that didn’t require eating through a straw.

There were good days and bad days, just like anything else. And while the majority of those in her own department - save the idiotic few, like Roger - had come to know Fane and were decent towards him (though whether that was out of fear or actual respect was something to be determined), outside the Auror office it was a different story. And on the bad days, Faye left work with a splitting headache. From trying to keep the peace. From trying to keep her partner from getting fired. And herself from getting written up. But there were days… few and far between… where Faye simply said fuck it and let him do as he wished. Because nothing she could do - short of hexing him out of his mind - was going to stop him. It was like letting steam out of a kettle. You had to, or the whole thing would explode in your face.

Though a low-burning fire was much less noticable than a blazing inferno. And it was those quiet, brooding days she had to watch even more closely sometimes than the days when he was in a fit of pique. Because there was no telling how they would go.

But right now he was happy, even if this was a work thing. And that made Faye grin just as wide, a mischevious look in her eyes. She pulled a MoM Gringott’s Platinum Card out of her pocket, holding it out to him with two fingers. “Pretty… and just a little bit slutty…”

The rumours, the whispers they would always be there it just-- was what it was. The whispers and murmurings behind his back had been ongoing since he was eleven years old and he’d been dropped in the middle of an unfamiliar group of people in a country and language he barely had a grasp of. Since then he’d never truly quite fitted in as he should have, but he did his best to try. Even if by the end of his first year year he’d been in tears over the thought of being insane when he could hear the voices in the walls. Something he’d never told anyone for fear of adding further fuel to the rumour mill of why he was at Hogwarts and not at Durmstrang. Some said he’d been kicked out, others said he wasn’t good enough and some said he’d been expelled. Making friends had been hard, and the bright-eyed child so interested in going to school had already begun to grow disillusioned with the concept instead already coming to terms with the idea of just going well ahead and trying to teach himself.

Which, fundamentally was what he’d gone and done (this further spurred on by the ineptitude of Lockhart's teaching) but at eleven he’d not been emotionally or mentally stable enough to truly deal with those things. Explaining why more often than not he’d sought out the counsel of his older sister through letters mostly due to the fact that she had ended up being educated at Beauxbatons (another of the oddities in the family though she was in her final year and set to graduate with top marks). Though there was the fact that none of the family talked about how she was better at healing than she was at the darker things that their family typically excelled in. Though having a healer wasn’t an atrociously horrendous thing to boot. Mostly though he’d been left to his own devices and coping mechanisms and been void of family beyond holidays until Erich’s unfortunate arrival at Hogwarts a few years later.

His siblings, despite the rumours and pressure of their parents weren’t bad people. They weren’t, but they also weren’t sure how to stand on their own beyond the controlling pressure of their mother and father’s thumbs meaning that Alexa, Ivan, Christina had all been drafted into the ranks. Had all fought for the honour of their family for the Dark Lord and if Fane hadn’t been so resiliently stubborn… He very easily could have gone the same way. But he hadn’t seen them in as long as he’d seen Faye… And where they were, Fane didn’t know nor did he wish to know considering if his mother had ended up in Azkaban… by his own doing no less… He didn’t particularly want to face his siblings or their respective judgement wherever they were they were better off staying there if they could help it.

As the card was proffered Fane plucked it nimbly from her fingers, “wonderful” he all but purred at the idea of getting to dress her. “ Oh baby, tonight’s going to be so much fun… Are you going to pick my outfit too?” Seems only fair, and considering how rare it was to let happen Fane was willing to extend some leeway to her on this. Why not? It might just be fun. With a nod he turned for the door. No time to waste after all.

Faye remembered Fane well from when they were children. How could she not? They were thick as thieves for the most part. Until they weren’t. He was awkward, shy, completely unsure of everything even though he was infinitely curious, and he talked different. But in an interesting way. Or so her eleven year old self had thought. Though even now, she loved the traces of his native accent that broke through at times. Warm and rough and thick. Get him talking to her like that and Faye melted.

But anyway… as kids Faye had immediately wondered about this odd transfer student, and knowing what it felt like to be a bit of an outsider (a half-blood Slytherin wasn’t all that common, after all, back then. Nowadays it was seen more often) she had plopped down next to him at breakfast, introduced herself, and proceeded to take his last sausage when he shook his head that he wasn’t going to eat it (after she asked, of course). The rest was history.

And while some things had changed - Fane himself, Faye, their mannerisms and the way they approached the world, among so many others - the whispers had never stopped. Faye had stopped listening a long time ago though. Practically the time they started. Because she knew Fane. Better than most anyone. It was all lies and fear mongering anyway. With the things that had been happening then. And especially with the things happening now. The murders. The Morsmordre. They did somewhat coincide with Fane’s return, but that meant nothing. If anything, Fane had tried to avoid all of it. He was only here as a liaison because Faye had asked him to be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have involved himself at all.

As for Fane’s family, Faye honestly didn’t know much about them. Other than the truths she’d learned about his brother and the circumstances surrounding his death. She knew he had more siblings, but not their names or what they did. She knew his mother had stood with the Dark Lord, and remembered the last time she’d ever seen him… dueling her in a cloud of smoke and rubble. After that… there hadn’t been much talk about their families, other than telling him her Gram had passed away. And Faye didn’t pry. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

Right now though, he was grinning down at her. And she loved to see him smile. “You trust me with your wardrobe?” she grinned back, slightly unbelieving. But when he didn’t protest, her grin broadened. “Well, alright then. I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s go…” She snagged him by the lapels and tugged him towards the door. They had a party to crash.

“You like pink, right?”

If they had been muggles no doubt they’d have been wired up with radios or used their mobiles to stay in contact, but by now Faye and Fane both were too used to the magical solution to mundane issues such as ranged communication. Fane wearing a new ring that glimmered on his finger, charmed to pick up his communications if needs be without being able to see where Faye was. As much fun as he could have tonight, they had a job to do even if Fane was already itching to enjoy himself as they approached the familiar entrance to Joyeuse. Fane had done as promised and let Faye pick out his outfit and admittedly she hadn’t done a half-bad job by his standards, even if it wasn’t something he’d so commonly opt for. Though it wasn’t as if he could complain considering the number she was in made him struggle to even think coherently about anything beyond pinning her up against something and having his way with her. Which was an almost hourly thought as it was.

Still, as much as there were things he wanted and more of the like inside (he’d been here a couple of times in the past), tonight wasn’t about having fun-- it was about trying to get a break in their case… Sigh. Taking a moment to smooth down his shirt before they got to work on their latest joint mission. “You ready?” he asked as they walked down the seemingly plain dead-end alleyway towards no apparent destination that is until they reached a door set into the wall with a chic neon light that lit the nearby alleyway. Once they were inside it would be a matter of finding the head woman and from there convince her to give up the stolen wands they may be in possession of here. Failing that, it would involve a direct breaking and entering situation into her office and several issues stood between them and that particular goal.

Hopefully, if they got this break it would mean the both of them may be let off a little. The pressure had been high for so long that it had all but consumed their lives and where once there had been a distinction between work and home now the both blended together inseparably. Not something Fane appreciated. Even with how much this case meant to Faye (to the both of them really but Fane liked to tell himself this was all because Faye cared so much about this damn case), it didn’t mean he had to like it. It had eaten into time that was once his, time that he’d been free to spend doing other things and frankly this line of work, though he didn’t like to admit it, had dragged a whole lot of dark and bleak memories into the light more often than not. As good as it felt to put bad people away there was no changing how blatantly hypocritical Fane felt doing so regardless of what Faye said or not on the matter.

Glancing to the poster that served as the entrance he gave a nod before raising a fist and rapping a short pattern out on the wall, there was a long pause not that Fane seemed fazed, maintaining an air of casual appearance about him. Eventually though, as he expected the bricks formerly making up a solid wall morphed into an ornate black door gilded with silver and a calligraphic J emblazoned in purple and silver. Meanwhile the sound of a set of locks and gears grinding echoed from behind the gradual appearance of the door and Fane raised a brow at Faye flashing her a little grin. Alright, who’s to say they couldn’t have a little fun whilst they were here? They had all night after all.

Faye didn’t dress like this often. Usually only when she was trying to distract herself with a muggle man. Even then, considering the places she would frequent, she’d never dress this fancy. Fane had picked out a dress that was exactly what she’d asked for: pretty, but a little slutty. Not something she would normally wear, but then again they were supposed to be semi-under cover. Though if Faye were honest, the promise of just a little bit of fun made her anxious to get inside. She knew this case was starting to consume their lives. And try as she might - and she honestly did try - it was bleeding over into their personal time. Case files on her kitchen table, notepads and pictures littering the desk in Fane’s library. Research and maps of London and dossiers of ex-Death Eaters still alive… it was overwhelming.

And Faye knew Fane was feeling the strain, just as she was. Which is part of why she indulged his whims whenever he asked for anything, no matter what it was lately. Food, alcohol, sex… even the the day trip or evening here and there… not that she ever turned him down, but lately she’d tried as best she could to show him how much she appreciated him. Because truth be told, she was so close to a break… and part of the reason she wanted it so badly - other than the obvious - was so they could rest. Just for a couple of weeks. She had felt more tired the last few days than she could ever really remember. Tired, clumsy, snappish… more annoyed than usual. She had even found herself dozing off at her desk once or twice, which never happened. So they needed this. For themselves. As well as the people it would save.

Faye waited patiently alongside Fane, her stiletto pumps giving her a couple more inches that she didn’t usually have. But she still only stood shoulder high to him. She’d never been here before, but she knew of the place. Very chic. Very glam. Very upscale. And very, very expensive. Especially when one knew how to find the club’s… extra amenities. Drugs, sex, gambling… Faye knew it was here. As did Fane, she was certain.

As the way opened up, she glanced at him and grinned back. The way closed behind them as they went inside and down the hallway lit with a deep purple glow. It turned several corners, the color of the lights changing as they passed, and Faye had a sneaking feeling they were being scanned by something. They would have to be cautious.

Though as they finally stepped out into the club itself - a large, chic interior in a theme of neon purples and the like colors, along with stone, marble, and glass - Faye’s eyebrows raised. “Alright, I’m impressed,” she said to Fane, glancing up at him again. He was grinning like a cat, his eyes bright and full of excitement. “Hey,” she said, giving him a bump. “Work first… play later, hm?” she told him. Because she knew that look. Very, very well.

Fane knew it wasn’t often or all too common for him to be able to get her out of her dragon-hide leather work attire (at least not in the sense of seeing her wearing other clothes), he could get her out of them just fine, but that was besides the point. Tonight, while technically a chance to move their case forwards was the first time in what felt like aeons since he’d gone out for a night on the town except this one involved staying remotely more sober (unfortunately). But he could only hope that a break in the case would mean that maybe, just maybe they might just be able to have a bit of a break or reprieve. Unlikely, but he could hope at least. Faye indulged his requests, though even the times to be able to request anything were growing slimmer with how many things they had to research and work on between them. To the point that if Fane was being honest he was feeling a bit deprived of just… life.

Spending fifteen years living on his own whim, beholden to no laws or regulations beyond those he set for himself (which were few and very, very far between) meant it was a struggle more often than not to toe the line that the Ministry set. Not to mention the restrictions this… job? Liaison position… Whatever it was set in terms of the hours he helped out, though that was all because of Faye as well. Frankly Fane was losing it a little and the more the energy was stored the more destructive and disruptive it became. Combine this with Faye’s own attitude and it generally made for some snappish moments between them.

Despite the price bracket of the establishment they were walking into Fane, having been here occasionally had certain methods of greasing the wheels so to speak. Not to mention the fact his card could do a fair bit of persuasion itself. Once the door appeared and they walked down the staircase into the corridor, Faye holding on to his arm as they wound round and deeper into the facility he moved smoothly a nonchalance presented about him as though nothing could faze him. “You should be-- this is one of the best clubs in the city,” he said above the pounding bassline.

The reverberation of bass grew heavier the nearer they got to the central floor and Fane could feel the music travelling through him no doubt magically infused to encourage attendees to dance and drink the night (and their money away). He wasn’t immune, and already he felt inclined to seek out the bar now they were in the central area. His eyes surveyed the crowds picking out the frankly gorgeous women (lacking just the right amount clothing), not to mention there being absolutely no shortage of attractive men too, both serving to be draw his eye equally. But Faye’s bump drew him back to the glum reality that they weren’t here to have fun, blinking he glanced aside at her looking rather more sour now but ultimately sighed in resignation. “Fine,” he drew the word out with a small roll of his eyes which were admittedly drawn to a few people passing items between them in the crowds. He had an eye for things like that. “But that better be promise…” he gave her a look that said he was not joking on this particular matter, “where do we start?”

Faye enjoyed dressing up. As much as the dragon-hide and leather suited her job and the persona she tried so hard to maintain at the Ministry and while on duty, that wasn’t who she really was. Not at her core. The moment she stepped inside her home, she was stripping out of it and leaving it all in a heap in the foyer. Usually after wearing it for a good twelve hours. Fane had tripped over it more than once, to his complete annoyance. Though if she was undressing at Fane’s, she tried to keep things tidy. Unless she was just completely exhausted. She didn’t want him cleaning up after her, and knew he didn’t like mess. But her own house was different. It was usually messy anyway, more so lately with all the overtime she’d been working. Though Scratch enjoyed them very much, finding the sweaty dragonhide exactly to his liking. He also made sure to glare at Fane with disdain if he just so happened to have his face ears-deep in Faye’s boot when Fane tripped over the pile of discarded clothes. As if Fane did it on purpose just to offend his feline sensibilities.

But tonight there wasn’t an inch of dragonhide to be found between them. Faye’s wand was strapped to her thigh beneath her dress as there was no other place to conceal it. Not that they needed to hide them, this being a Wizarding club, but Faye hardly wanted hers in plain sight unless she was going to use it. Parts of being an Auror would never leave her, it seemed. And while she knew some wandless magic, she still wanted it within reach should she actually need it. Fane had the luxury of being much more proficient at wandless, though it wasn’t a fact he publicized.

The club was packed to the gills. A sea of bodies moved on the dance floor, illuminated by the neon lights overhead and the dozens of floating orbs that moved and circled them, flashing to the beat of the music. Smoke flowed over the floor here and there, and a thin cloud hung in the air. She could smell the sulfur of magic, and the mix of a hundred different perfumes and colognes, the sweet smell of alcohol as they passed the bar. She also caught a whif of other things, glancing at Fane who she was sure had noticed as well. It was a literal sensory overload.

“Better be, for the prices,” she said, though there was a tinge of humor in her voice. She knew Fane could care less about money, and for the most part she’d stopped arguing with him about it. It was futile. He had it, and he was going to spend it as he saw fit. Of the problems they encountered on a daily basis, Fane’s financial situation was low on the list. Besides, tonight it could go a long way to flash a Platinum Card to the right person. Money talks, after all.

Faye’s eyes scanned the crowd as well, though unlike Fane, she was looking for familiar faces, not attractive ones. The case files had mugshots of most of the people that worked for the syndicate, and while Faye doubted they would be milling about the regular crowd, she had to look.

Fane’s petulant look didn’t escape her, but she trusted him to keep to the plan. Which honestly, they really hadn’t talked about much past Find the Boss. “I promise. Work… then fun, okay?” She looked past him to the crowded bar, watching with a trained eye as money exchanged hands for more than just alcohol. “Why don’t you start by working your charm on the bartender? See if he knows anything? I’ll make my way round the other side, see if I spot any familiar faces. I’ll come find you in twenty?”

And she moved off, snagging a tall flute of something bubbly - purely for looks, as she wasn’t drinking tonight - from a passing tray as she disappeared into the crowd.

Fane’s body naturally gravitated towards the bar, though Faye’s presence kept him from walking off for the moment and instead he swayed a little on the spot to the heavy bass. This wasn’t everyone’s scene but there was something he found particularly enjoyable about getting lost in the crowds and just being one of many in a room out to have a good time. He could also detect the familiar odour of some of the other activities he dabbled in on occasion; common by all standards in a place like this and his eyes naturally sought out the directions from which all these different sources of information and stimuli drifted from.

“You say that is if you’ve never been to a place like this,” he commented as he trailed after her (having to raise his voice so that she could hear him over the music). Money had been something he’d had to work to acquire and not all his dealings and pay offs had been entirely legal but of course, Fane was sure to keep all books and records clean. Plus when dabbling in the antiques and rare items acquisition trade it meant large sums were often transferred in single transactions across the world and if you knew what you were doing without paper trails. Not to mention a lifetime brewing and studying magic and potions respectively had lended him to being a dab hand in both departments when he wanted. Felix Felicis although tremendously hard to brew and incredibly dangerous if made incorrectly had been the source of major winnings in a few of his visits to some of the high-brow casinos around the world. Considering Fane’s attempts to stay off the radar utilising alias after alias it was hardly surprising he’d ultimately come to acquire a mass of wealth. He was smart and seized every opportunity presented even if he could occasionally be considered reckless and a tad unstable.

Temptation was in his nature but could similarly be his downfall.

Right now he was well aware he had to make a decision. To give in to the countless temptations or to have Faye’s back, and as much as he was inclined to give in to the prior the latter naturally overruled his wishful thinking. Still, Faye’s agreement softened some of the petulance displayed in his attitude. Still, as she directed him over to the bar his eyes travelled in that particular direction. “Make it fifteen hm?” better to be safe considering they weren’t on home territory right now. With that said Fane lightly touched her waist before letting her go and cutting his way smoothly through the crowds with a practised and relaxed ease until he arrived at the bar with a grin. Best to get the evening underway.

“Haven’t,” Faye said distractedly. “Unlike some, I don’t have a Platinum Card to get me in. And I can get drunk for free at home.” She didn’t mean it in a condescending way, simply as a statement of fact. Faye wasn’t destitute, but neither was she rich. An Auror’s salary wasn’t as great as some might think, though her promotion a few years back, along with her experience (and ‘War Hero’ status, whether she liked it or not) earned her a decent yearly boost. Her Gram had left her the house, which was paid for, and a small sum of money as a nest egg (for what, Faye no idea at the time, all things considered). So she was comfortable.

And Fane was… very comfortable. She knew in part how he had come about his fortune. He’d told her bits and pieces here and there over the last couple of years. But there were also things Faye didn’t want to know. Because what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt anyone. And times being what they were, she didn’t want to take that chance. So she let him be as far as money was concerned.

Faye raised her glass over her head to indicate that she heard him as she walked off. Fifteen minutes. That didn’t give her that much time, considering the size of the place. “Comms check,” she said as the crowd closed in around her. The music thumped in her chest, and Faye felt the magic pushing her to dance, to drink, to do anything but keep scanning the crowd for the faces of their marks. Here and there someone would try to pull her in, slinking an arm around her waist and sometimes even managing to spin her in a circle before she broke loose. She kept a grin on her face as she avoided most of them, and managed - mostly - not to spill her drink.

Halfway around and about seven minutes in, Faye had just avoided the sticky grasp of a young man with electric blue hair, watching with relief as someone else pulled him away and back into the crowd of bodies, when her internal photo gallery lit up. The man was tall, towering over most of the dancers, and he moved through the crowd with an air of purpose. Faye watched, gaze fixed on his dark hair and the distinctive tattoos on his massive forearms, as he stopped to talk to someone before moving on.

Before he could disappear, Faye pressed into the crowd, pushing through the dancers as she tried to keep the man’s head in sight through the fog and the flashing lights. Her hand fell to her thigh, feeling the familiar shape of her wand secured there. She hoped not to need it, but you could never be too careful.

“I’ve got one,” she said into the comm. “Looks like it’s her head of security, Boris. I’m following.”

Boris turned left through the perimeter of the crowd. Faye did too. She circled wide, keeping him in sight, and as she drew close enough to see that it was indeed the man she thought it was, she made it a point to run right into him.

“Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry,” she said, pretending to be quite drunk. “Some… asshole-” She slung her drink in a wide arch, spilling more of it over the side. “- pushed me. Into you.” Faye tapped him on his huge barrel chest with one finger, grinning up at him. Jesus he was huge. “And you… don’t look like… an asshat. Hole. Asshole.” She snickered at herself, swaying a bit.

Boris raised a large black eyebrow at the unexpected placement of a pretty woman in his path, calculated whether or not it was worth it to have a little fun - he had been working all night after all. Breaking up fights and confiscating drugs that weren’t house made - before expertly plucking the glass out of Faye’s hand and sending it floating aside. When in Rome. right?

“Let me fix that for you.” He replaced Faye’s mostly empty glass with a different one that was fizzy and blue, and smoked ever so faintly. “Here you go… good as new and twice as fun.” Sliding an arm around her shoulder, he continued walking, but much to Faye’s chagrin, didn’t try and enter the door she knew would most likely lead somewhere important. Instead, he steered her in another direction, towards another door. This one didn’t have guards.

“Sounds like you’ve had quite a night, love,” Boris said, placing his hand flat on the door. It shimmered and disappeared under his touch, and he steered Faye inside. “Let me fix that for you. You deserve it, after the time you’ve had.” The inital space was a rectangular room, sparse except for a curtained doorway on either side, and a figure in a mask that stood behind a small floating table in the center. Boris paid the figure no attention, choosing the hallway to the left. It was long and narrow, and glowed with a soft red light. A haze of smoke hung in the air, and along the way there other hallways that led off from the main. Most had doors at the end, others had what looked like sections that were curtained off every so often.

The sounds that drifted from these particular sections didn’t go amiss with Faye. She knew sex when she heard it. Well, looks like she’d found one of the clubs private areas.

“Go on… drink up. I promise your night’ll get much better after that.” Boris’s sweaty arm still hung around her shoulders. The tattoos she knew so well from his pictures in her casefile on blatant display. Like Hell Faye was taking the first sip of anything he’d given her. More than likely it was laced with something.

So she pretended like she didn’t hear him. “Ohh, this is… this is nice. Is this for VIPs? Am I your VIP tonight?” Faye asked, hating herself for having to play the ditz. But if it got them what they needed.

Boris grinned. “You sure are, love. You sure are.” That was when Faye felt a prick at the back of her arm. “Ow!” she said, and snatched away. But whatever it was had already started working. Faye’s vision swam. The glass fell from her hand, and while she didn’t pass out, she felt herself going slack. Only Boris’ arm still held her up.

“Ah ah… no fallin’ down now. I want you awake for this, pretty one. Been a long time since I had me a blonde...” Boris pulled her into one of the curtained off alcoves, settling her back on the large sofa that took up most of the space. The curtain closed, and he loomed over her. There was the sound of his belt coming undone.

Faye blinked at him, finding it so very hard to stay awake - what had he drugged her with? - even as she saw him pull his half-hard cock out of his trousers. He started tugging on it, standing over Faye and looking down at her with an expression that would have frightened her if she hadn’t seen it so many times before. She knew what he intended.

But she also knew that Fane had just heard every word.

“You gonna smile like that when I fuck you, love?” Boris said, getting more worked up now. He tugged harder and faster on his prick. Apparently, Faye’s expression was doing it for him.

“Not me… that’s ‘bout to get… fucked…” she managed to say. Thirty seconds was all she needed… twenty-nine… twenty-eight...

After they went their separate ways, Fane slid through the crowd and as Faye spoke the magic crackled in his ear and he heard her as clearly as if she was stood right here with him in that moment and not as though she was half-way across the crowded nightclub. “Got you loud ‘n’ clear love,” he answered as he approached the bar leaning up against it and flashing a coy smile at the young guy behind the bar. Enough to get his attention, and once he finished serving he was moving down the bar closer to where Fane stood curious interest alight in his eyes. Untainted from what Fane could tell, but appearances could be deceiving and plus it had been a long time since he’d been allowed such free reign. Why not enjoy himself in the process.

“What can I get for you?” his dusty-blond hair was tousled and his sapphire blue eyes reflected the pulsing neon lights enticingly, no doubt he saw plenty of action with looks like those. Not the easiest of targets, but since when did Fane like an easy target?

For a moment Fane took his time, deliberately letting his eyes trail the man’s features and down before raising once more. Fane’s grin grew just a fraction more impish his eyes scanning down the bar and back again. “Impress me handsome, let’s see how good your aviations are.”

He’d been enjoying the conversation, flirtation (and drink) when Fane’s warning crackled in his ear. Glancing subtly in the last direction he’d seen her, not that he did expect to see her Fane returned to the conversation he’d been having. He’d managed to get Tyler away from the busier aspects of the bar, a few well-placed comments and soft flirtations to stroke his ego just enough to bring about that familiar glow that radiated from people who were starting to feel appreciated. To feel as if they were special, and Fane’s voice and words dripped molten-honey. Just the right amount of teasing and lure to leave whoever was on the receiving end intrigued about what else he might have in store.

“And then-- This guy, he tells me he’ll be five minutes and he never comes back, talk about a bad start to the night” Fane chuffed with a shake of his head. Though it was at this moment that Faye’s conversation began to filter through and he had to focus on what he was saying and paying attention. “And you know what, I think I deserve better.”

Tyler, who had been listening and nodding sympathetically took a sip of his drink liquid confidence making him more inclined to reach out just enough so his fingers brushed Fane’s as he refilled his glass. “Well, how about I clock off early and we think about changing your luck?”

“Hm?” Fane had momentarily been distracted by the continued conversation going on in his ear, not that he felt jealous but a protective urge overcame him to make sure Faye was alright. “Oh-- I wouldn’t want to rush, where’s the fun in cutting to the chase?” but it was exactly at this moment that Faye’s cry echoed out and all consideration for the charade he’d been playing up faded away to the pinpoint focus of whatever was happening to Faye right now. Fane blinked, as though reconsidering “you know what? Maybe you’re right” he knocked back the drink leaned over the counter to hook a finger into Tyler’s black suspenders and pull him forwards with a slight thud enough to plant a teasing kiss to his lips. “Now--” he breathed before leaning back and fishing out his card “why don’t you show me where we can go to have a good night together hm?”

The barista was clearly surprised but not regretting the change in the pace of the night, immediately set about clocking off his till before breezing around. A small head nod was enough to get Fane to follow him letting Tyler grip his lapel and tug him along and for the sake of his cover slid closer an arm slipping around his waist. They passed a couple of corridors until they arrived at a large rectangular room, in one direction a red hazy corridor and the other lit purple. Internally Fane cringed, but paying attention to his other senses drew him to steer them left. It was just as they were passing one alcove a familiar voice echoed through the curtain and Fane knew what he’d have to do, a kiss and quick stupefy later had him lowering Tyler to the floor. “Sorry mate-- no hard feelings yeah?”

With that said along with a silencing charm on the area Fane used Boris’ current distraction to his advantage, he tugged back the curtain and casting a quick set of charms in quick succession to immobilise, bind and gag that by now was almost second-nature he’d used it that many times. For-- more than just these particular activities, as Faye knew well enough by now. He tsked under his breath the calm disposition he presented masking the wildfire of rage that was simmering through his veins right there and then. “So much for being caught with your trousers down,” Fane muttered more to himself before he slid into the alcove frowning as he rested a knee on the couch gently pushing Faye’s hair back and holding her face. “You’re alright-- I’m here,” he murmured before patting down his pockets one-handedly for a small vial which once he found it, he tipped straight into her mouth and tipped her head back to get her to swallow. “It’ll take a little bit for you to feel better… Just wait for it.”

In the meantime, well, Fane had a lesson to teach. His eyes dropped to where Boris’ cock hung out of his trousers, unimpressed, and his eyes shifted to a glint of metal on the security’s belt which had been discarded nearby. “My my, we shouldn’t leave sharp things like this around…” he remarked as he fetched the blade, gripping it in his palm the blade gleaming wickedly in the low red-haze that filled the room lifting it he let the tip catch the skin of the man’s splitting it with the barest amount of pressure making Boris huff. “There might just be an accident--” and oh did Fane enjoy the glimmer of fear that he saw rise in the other man’s eye, “mhm, yes… That’s right...”

Boris had just bent over, tugging at the top of Faye’s dress and pawing at what was underneath when the curtain behind him slid open. She had heard Fane’s entire conversation in her ear, and had she been able, she would have rolled her eyes at the ease with which the bartender has succumbed. Though there was the tiniest bit of jealousy there too, but it passed soon enough. There was the warm rush of familiar magic and the shadow of Boris fell away with a heavy thud. Faye blinked again, the dim light making it hard for her swimmy vision to focus. Whatever was in her system was potent. Probably a house mix, like everything else.

She huffed, trying to move but finding her limbs heavy, as Fane knelt next to her and poured something that tasted terrible into her mouth. She coughed, but swallowed as he helped her. Already, she could feel the antidote working, but it was going to take a minute or two for the full effects to kick in. But she was aware enough to watch Fane as he moved off towards Boris. The man was still wide awake, but completely immobilized. She coughed again, seeing the glint of a blade as Fane picked it up off the seat.

“His file says… he likes cuttin’ up… girls…” Faye said between coughing spells. “Was that… gonna be before… or after… you raped me?” This was directed at Boris. Her eyes slid to Fane, and she saw the outer calm that was covering up something far more frightening. Boris made a small panicked sound as Fane’s hand moved where she couldn’t see. “Don’t…” But she was seized by another coughing fit, though she managed to push herself more upright this time.

To his credit, Boris looked surprised as he looked to Faye. As if she was somehow - by what she was about to say… - going to save him. But then her coughing subsided.

“Don’t… kill him. Paperwork’s… a nightmare…”

Boris made another high-pitched sound that seemed like he was begging Fane not to hurt him. A series of incomprehensible sounds followed. And most nights, on a regular sting, she would have pulled the plug on what Fane was doing real quick, arrested the guy, and been done with it.

But this sleazebag had drugged her, assaulted her, and he had been planning to rape and possibly mutilate her. She wasn’t feeling very generous. So Fane got a pass tonight. If Boris didn’t bleed out later, he would be much more cautious about who he put his hands on in the future.

So tonight, Faye simply turned her head away, sliding over a bit. Because blood would never come out of this dress.

Fane grimaced at what Faye managed to say about the man he had fully immobilised at his mercy the distaste plain to see in his eyes and in the way he eyed the other man. There was a slight downwards tilt to his chin as he studied Boris, like he was internally debating something and idly the blade was tapped against his palm with the careful precision of someone willing to take all their time about making this particular decision. “Is that right?” when he spoke, his voice was measured and quiet but lacked no doubt of lofty seriousness despite the quiet-nature of it. The calm before the storm as the saying went.

But as Faye started to say something else his head turned fractionally in her direction, waiting for the coughing fit to pass and ignoring the security man at his feet. “Pfft,” he sounded unamused “he deserves it,” but if Faye didn’t want him dead well, that didn’t mean Fane couldn’t do other things to him… Did it? His lips twisted a fraction and his eyes lit with something dark as he drifted a step closer once more twisting the blade idly a grin appearing on his lips as Boris squeaked and tried so very hard to wriggle away. “You know,” Fane said as he crouched down reaching out to grip Boris’ lapels and yank him closer “it’d be more fun if I could let you go… Hunt you down, it’d be much-- much more satisfying… All that blood pumping… Don’t you think?” Satisfaction rose in him as he saw the fear bleeding into the hulking man’s eyes, “not used to being vulnerable are you? My, how the tables have turned hm?”

Boris made a few more muffled sounds against the gag stuffing his mouth, something that might just have sounded like please, please no.

Not that it served as a deterrent, with a smooth and almost clinical precision Fane reached out and gripped the other man’s half-hard cock in a vice-like grip making Boris whimper. Pulling it taut Fane brought the blade down; Boris howled in anguish, tears flowing down his face as the heavy metallic scent of blood filled the cubicle and a few hacks later Fane was done. “Maybe you’ll think about what you do with your life now hm? That is… If someone finds you before you bleed out here,” magicing the gag away he used his fingers to pry Boris’ mouth open shoving the bloody remains of his genitals down his throat making him gag and splutter. “Karma dickface,” he muttered wiping off his hand on Boris’ shirt before getting up mindful of the pool of blood seeping out over the floor his attention going to Faye his face and clothes smattered in red. “Can you walk?”

Faye knew exactly what would happen if she told Fane who Boris was. What sort of things the tattooed henchman had done. Especially now that he had planned to do them to Faye? Because as much as the two of them might not talk about the lengths they would go to for each other, they knew. In that strange way they had always known certain things about each other. For her part, there was nothing that Faye wouldn’t do if it meant keeping Fane safe. Keeping him alive. Keeping him sane. And she knew the reverse was true. So she didn’t hesitate in telling him about the man now begging for his life on the sofa.

Because Boris should be behind bars in Azkaban, but they’d simply never been able to hold him because of some stupid technicality or loophole. That, and his employer paying his bail nearly faster than the Auror office could process him. Which told Faye he was valuable. So Faye took responsibility for every word that came out of her mouth. But she also pulled her wand and cast a concealment charm just in case someone was watching. As Fane went about making sure Boris would never have to worry about standing up to piss ever again - among other things - Faye slid to the side. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as whatever Fane had given her did it’s job. She felt herself becoming clearer, more aware, as the haze of the drug wore off.

By the time she was mostly back to rights, Fane had finished and was standing over her again. She looked up at him, the blood that had sprayed his face and suit nothing but streaks and spots of blackness in the dim light. Her belly twisted slightly, and she felt the familiar dichotomy of feelings rise up inside her. One revelled in the fact that an evil man had gotten what he deserved; because even as an Auror, someone meant to uphold the law, Faye knew that the law didn’t always win. That the bad guy got away more often than not. And in this particular case, Faye was itching for someone to pay. That Boris’ crimes had nothing to do with their case didn’t matter. It was payout.

Another part of her grew tight with worry. For Fane. For how he had allowed this part of himself to come to the surface. If she had been more careful… “I’m alright,” she told him, standing up to look him over. “Are you?” A finger to his jaw turned his head one way and then the other as she inspected him, looking into his eyes as a last check-in.

“Hold still,” Faye said gently. She siphoned the worst of the blood off him, and straightened the front of his suit. “Good?”

There was nothing much more for it, Fane dropped the blade ( totally not deliberately letting it land in Boris’ thigh) making him squeal and cry out even if the sounds were muffled entirely now. No ounce of sympathy or mercy reflected in his features, only pure righteous wrath and pleasure at being the hand to serve the swift cut of justice right here and now. Some might even describe the glint in his eyes as a touch mad and if they didn’t know him, in that moment they might even go so far as to say he was almost a younger imitation of the late Dark Lord learning and experimenting with his inner darkness to see what suited him best due to the sheer casual ease with which he conducted the almost presentational display of Boris’ mutilation. It also likely clarified that this was not the first thing like this that he’d done in his lifetime.

Not to mention the fact a deep, dark, twisted part of him in his soul and psyche respectively felt a glimmer of pleasure and satisfaction at dealing out this punishment. He should’ve been ashamed, to give into such urges but there was something about this control that made him feel powerful and as if in this instance he could do almost anything he wanted. He felt warm, and adrenaline shot through his veins leaving him agitated and right on the edge of something more.

But soon enough it was over, and Fane’s entire attention and being was directed away from what he’d just done, what he wanted to do with that and instead turned onto Faye. Only for her would he even consider stopping, simmering back the darker impulses chomping at the bit to take hold and had she not been here then Boris would have likely ended up far more mutilated than he had been until he was hanging right on the brink of existence. Just at that point before Fane would have snuffed him out entirely from existence without a second thought or hesitation. The worry lining her features didn’t go amiss, but a part of him idly wondered why it was there. Nothing was wrong, she wasn’t hurt, perhaps a little rattled but he’d gotten here… He’d gotten to her. So her question into his well-being perplexed him slightly, though her touch on his skin in the state he currently was in did nothing to help the thoughts racing through his brain. “I’m fine,” he said simply stretching out his neck and pulling his jaw slowly from her grasp knowing that if he touched her right this moment he wouldn’t be liable for what he ended up doing.

Instead, Fane shifted to one side letting Faye pull the blood from his clothes and skin and a grin was service to answer her question. “Sublime…” pausing to pick out Boris’ card he wagged a purple and black keycard with a grin “fancy heading upstairs?”

Faye was of the mind that if she didn’t actually see what Fane was doing, she could deny it until the cows came home. Plausible deniability. So she kept her face turned away, no matter what she heard. The words, ‘No sir, I never saw him do anything to anyone,’ playing in the back of her mind. And Faye would say them and feel no shame. Because it was the truth. Technically. But anyway…

It was done, and he was standing over her letting her see to him, if only briefly, and with a slightly confused expression. Because the things Fane tamped down on merely due to her presence were the things she worried about. Or more specifically, losing him to those things. Those impulses. Because it was easy for him, she knew. He wasn’t an evil man, not in her eyes. Not to the people that really knew him. Which wasn’t many. And even to others that met him, she didn’t believe they thought him evil, unless they believed the rumor mill and the papers. He’d done nothing to warrant such slander. He was a scapegoat, nothing more. And one that would take it, over and over again, without comment, even though she knew it bothered him.

And she almost felt bad, felt like she was using him, even though she wasn’t. Using him in the sense that she trusted him to have her back, trusted him to do what needed doing (case in point the sounds from across the way that she did not hear…), and never hesitate. He would get his hands dirty if needed, and Faye knew that. Though so would she if the situation warranted.

She let him him pull his face away without comment, taking his word - for now - that he was alright. The blood siphoned off easily. It was... fresh, and Faye’s magic make quick work of it. There was a small part of her - a tiny, well-hidden part - that felt the same dark rush of adrenaline and yes, even arousal, at the sight of Fane splattered with red. That controlled violence - the purposeful working of blade or wand or both, the clinical way he knew just how to cut, or slice, or apply the right amount of pressure… - it slipped inside the part of Faye that was fascinated with the macabre. The part that wanted to know just how far someone could be pushed before they died of shock or fear. The part that wanted evil to pay, regardless of the consequences. His darkness slipped and slid against her own quite well. Though the experimentation had only gone so far, mostly sex. And a few of the things he’d shown her during this case that had immediately grabbed her interest.

But right now, Faye’s concern was getting what they came for now that they were both alright. He held up the keycard, and Faye looked up at him, a one-sided grin spreading across her own face. She gestured towards the hall. “Allons-y…”

He would never say breaking free of those urges and impulses were easy, or that they didn’t take effort or concentration to be free of but with Faye around he found he could channel his focus away and onto her. By doing that it distracted him from lingering too long on those things that wanted to drag him down into their depths. So Fane let her distract him, let her grip his jaw and tilt his head this way and that as though it would make any difference to the thoughts and actions that had manifested themselves on her behalf but also on his on will to punish Boris for even thinking about touching her, let alone doing anything else he may have otherwise envisioned.

Slander had just become a thing he was used to, his legacy and family were painted and held up to a certain expectation and any deviation from that was met with confusion and speculation. It just was the way of the world and he’d come to accept that a long while back now. So while sometimes it was a heavy burden to bear, it was one he shouldered without all that much complaint because complaining got nothing done at the end of the day.

Once his clothes were sorted, Fane smoothed down the front of his jacket and adjusted his shirt fixing it back into his trousers as well as smoothing down his hair that had become a little dishevelled with his temporary tryst to find his way back here. They were a right pair it seemed, their interests and the things that drew their attention and lured them in being towards the darker and more questionable end of the spectrum. But Fane would always make the point it just depended on how you used that knowledge or practise that determined what sort of person you were. Magic whether dark or light was a neutral force, intent shaped it to the final end. Still, he was soon enough distracted by the task of frisking Boris (who was still gagging and choking due to the immobilisation spell) down until he came away with his keycard.

Stepping over Boris and sweeping the curtain aside, Fane held out a hand to help Faye out the way good-naturedly though he did send an apologetic glance to the bartender. Not that he could remember his name. But deciding it might just be better to get him away, Fane cast a spell to move his unconscious form down the hallway and deposited him on one of the other sofas where he’d wake later with a killer headache. Unfortunate, but better than being found outside the scene of… well, what he and Faye were leaving behind.

Faye took Fane’s hand and they made there way down the corridor, surmising that there should be another private entrance somewhere along the way. The situation in their own booth had apparently gone unnoticed by any other patrons of this area, as Faye could plainly hear what was happening behind several curtains. Though she suspected some people got off on knowing that people could hear them, and hearing others. While other booths were deadly quiet. Who knew what was happening behind those curtains. But they weren’t here for voyeurism. Not tonight.

Tonight they needed one thing: the woman at the top. Faye knew her real name. But everyone whispered another: Kali. Which Faye thought was a bit much. Naming oneself after the Hindu goddess of death and destruction (relatively speaking, of course) was pretty egotistical, after all. Either way, they would find her, and she would talk. One way or another.

The second entrance wasn’t really a door at all. Merely a series of glowing symbols set into a blank wall face. The corridor had come to a stop after several feet of blank wall on either side. Nothing was there upon first glance. Faye even cast a light detection charm - meant specifically not to set off alarms - at the area. Still nothing. It was only then that she plucked the card from Fane’s hand and waved a few times back and forth. Finally, at about Fane’s chest height, a set of symbols started to glow. Bright blue against the red light, they sat in a pattern of nine, like a muggle keypad.

“Fucking figures,” Faye grumbled. “The card is to access the keypad. Now we have to enter the right set of symbols too.” Though she hardly expected this to be easy. She squinted at the pad for a moment, before raising her wand and muttering a small spell. A violet glow appeared above the blue, pulsing brighty just above four of the symbols. Latent fingerprints. Faye grinned. “Your turn,” she told Fane, who was much better at puzzles and codes than she was, and could probably see the minute differences in the way the keys had been pressed. Or maybe he’d just go with best guess. Either way, he was better at it than her. “What order?”

Letting Faye have the card Fane stepped back to scan the hallway, to make sure that no wanderers by would get the wrong idea about interfering with their current snooping. If they could get on with this without being detected things would be a whole lot easier and the night would likely be sorted far more smoothly as well. His earlier anticipation and excitement had since faded to only a mild interest in what they might discover. His investment in the case only stretching so far as ensuring Faye’s security and safety until they could close this case and file it away. To move on from this endless hunt that had slowly been invading and eating away at their lives beyond it.

He couldn’t wait for this to be over, to be done and wrapped up and never to be revisited again. Which mean getting on with tonight and moving on.

So as the symbols appeared in the wall Fane blinked, stepping back to look at them a little more closely. Some he recognised. Others he wasn’t entirely sure of but he could deduce more or less the idea they were getting at. Not numbers exactly but-- Fane pressed his tongue idly against a canine in thought and as Faye cast a spell revealing latent fingerprints his hand raised to rub his chin in thought. But then a thought struck him as he looked at the highlighted symbols. With his index finger he pressed the first that looked like a teardrop, second came a tree, next a rudraksha seed, and finally an image of lines transcending and converging upwards. Each one he pressed glowed with a soft teal luminescence pulsing with the magic of this building and place before the four symbols started to rotate prior to their convergence outwards from the points at which the thread of magic interconnected to form the symbol of a rudraksha in the wall. The symbol rotated slowly as it sank back into the wall before the soft whirr of gears clanking and unlocking could be heard and finally, the door revealed itself to them. Fane glanced up at it “the irony here is killing me.”

Faye wanted to be done with all of this too. It was merely chance that this case had fallen into her lap near the same time as Fane’s return. If not for the case’s high profile status and her personal feelings over the issue - as well as being a fellow Order member - Faye might have let someone else handle it. But she hadn’t. It was her case, and she would see it through until the end.

She just hoped that the end came soon. Or at least they came to a place where they could take a break. Faye could obsess harder and more thoroughly than almost anyone at the Ministry. She had an iron-clad focus and determination that would put most to shame. Fane knew this. He’d seen it more than most. And Faye knew it frustrated him when she went for days - or longer - latched on to something. She knew, but she had to have that focus. If she didn’t, someone could get hurt. Or worse. Tonight was case in point. She’d been stupid. Not paying enough attention to Boris because she was too busy listening to Fane flirt with some random barista.

And look what her distraction had led to?

All the more reason to stay focused from here on out.

Fane came over when she called, and in a matter of seconds had the code worked out. “Show off,” she grinned, handing the keycard back to him so he could tuck it away. “And no one said drug dealers had to be original.” Wand still in her hand, Faye led the way into the next hallway. This one was all gray concrete, and lit by simple fluorescent lights. Nothing magical about it. Another door lay at the end, and they made it through without difficulty.

Only to end up in a deserted, trash-filled alley. Police sirens wailed in the distance, and the neighborhood was definitely not the one they’d started in.

“What the actual fuck?” Faye said, turning in a circle. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” She looked over at Fane, about to ask him what had just happened, when there was a thumping sound on the hood of the dumpster nearby. Faye turned to see a small cat, a Siamese that was all white with bright golden eyes, sitting there watching them. It blinked once, and then jumped down to the alley floor, padding away towards the street. Faye looked at Fane with a frown before following the little creature. It turned left, tail stuck high in the air as it sauntered it’s way towards the curb.

And the black car - a Bugatti Chiron - waiting there, idling quietly.

They drew closer, and the back doors of the expensive sedan opened on their own. The cat hopped inside without looking back at them, and disappeared into the interior. Faye looked at the car, then looked at Fane. “Looks like somebody knows we’re here. Come on.” Knowing he would follow, Faye approached the vehicle and slid into the back seat. The cat was now a woman. A beautiful blonde dressed in red, with high cheekbones, winged eyeliner, and a tattoo of a serpent across her bare shoulders. Ironic really, considering she was apparently a feline animagus. Faye’s airtight memory bank didn’t recall an animal as unusal as a golden-eyed white Siamese among the Registry. But she would hold on to that little bit of information for later. It could be useful, since being an unregistered Animagi could have serious consequences.

#hp au #scene

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mjwiththefangs · 6 years ago

Text

Beautifully Deadly (NaLu) #1

Chapter 1

Vampire/Supernatural AU

Rating: M

Summary: "Supposedly an entire kingdom disappeared when their queen went beyond the borders, remember?" When Natsu Dragneel leaves the kingdom to investigate mysterious disappearances, he finds a much bigger adventure than he was bargaining for, including a beautiful vampire hidden away in an ancient castle. She has little to say about her past, or why she's locked away. Who did this to her? What has she been feeding on? One thing Natsu knows for sure that she is dangerous... Could she have something to do with the disappearances? "I'm sorry, Natsu, but I'm just so thirsty."

Chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Read it on: AO3 & FF.net

A/N: Hello! So, some of you may have seen this posted before, and i decided that, to make it easier to navigate this story, i’d create and organise a side blog with links to all the chapters :)

The idea for this had been on my mind for a long time, and now im finally committing to writing it up! I hope you enjoy!

'What were you?' he breathed, eyes fixed on the blonde beauty before him, 'before, I mean. What were you?' He added hastily.

She quickly masked a startled expression, and narrowed her eyes on him, 'I don't know what you mean.'

But he saw. Behind those dark honey eyes, he saw the flicker of grief, pain and surprise. She turned away from him, golden hair shining with the starlight.

'I was always a monster.' She hissed.

He clutched his side, ground his teeth together and dragged himself from the ground. His other hand brushed pink bangs from his face, running through unkempt hair and over long horns. He steeled himself and spoke again,

'No. I meant before you became a vampire. You can't fool a dragon's nose, you weren't born a human.'

She froze, rigid, back still turned from him. He knew that she would hear his heart hammering in his chest, but it wasn't from fear. No, it was the anticipation.

He gripped his side tighter. Something red and sticky clung to his fingers. He could feel his vision blurring. He swayed backwards, once again leaning on the wall.

He was met by darkened honey eyes, burning red, invading his personal space. Had he the energy left, he would have startled. Her tongue wet her lips quickly. Sharpened fangs protruding her mouth. Those eyes burned a deep scarlet now, flitting between his wound and his jugular.

He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.

'Lucy...' he whined her name softly, feeling his consciousness slipping away.

Gentle hands held him upright. Before he fell back to the blackness, he heard her whisper,

'I'm sorry, Natsu, but I'm just so thirsty.'

1 month earlier

He had been walking through the main town, heading to the stables, a pack on his back when he was stopped.

‘Natsu!’

At the sound of his name being called, the young man turned around.

‘Whats this I hear about you goin’ off on some adventure on your own?’ the owner of the voice accused; a young man with raven hair and dark blue eyes.

Natsu grinned at him, holding up his hands in mock surrender,

‘Alright, Frostbite, you caught me!’

The young man was Gray Fullbuster, Natsu’s best friend, and at times, his biggest rival.

‘Natsu, c’mon man.’ Gray protested, ‘if you're not telling where you plan on going, then it can only mean that you’re going beyond the borders!’ he waved his arms once, as though this would help get his point across. It failed however when his hand absently drifted to tug on his shirt.

Natsu sniggered, ‘nah, I could just be runnin’ away!’

Grays’ scowl deepened. He had now discarded his shirt, much to his friends’ amusement.

‘Natsu, you know how strict the King is about not leaving our borders, and for good reason, we don't know what's out there.’

Natsu straightened up now. He was planning an adventure, that was true. He was also planning on going beyond the borders. But he hadn't told anyone because he knew they would all try to stop him. So, in the dryest tone he could muster, he replied,

‘Sure, it's not like we already got a nest of dragons, an ice devil, or a she-devil living here.’

Gray, the ice devil in question, was fiddling with the buckle on his pants.

‘You got me there.’ he admitted, ‘but I still think you're being stupid, Flamebrain.’

Natsu shot an irritable look at his friend, snorting smoke at him,

‘Ice Princess.’

‘Pryo jerk’

‘Icickle moron’

‘Idiot.’ Gray said flatly, ‘Look, just, whatever your planning, don’t do it. People have disappeared out there. Supposedly an entire kingdom vanished when their queen went beyond the borders, remember?’

Natsu stilled at that. He’d heard the rumours, sure, but it was different hearing it from Gray. His father was part of the royal guard and up until recently had been the captain.

‘Silver still investigating that?’

‘Yea, both him and Erza are.’ Gray shrugged, ‘She told me you were sneakin’ off, by the way’

At that, a shiver ran up Natsu’s spine. Although the woman had been their friend from childhood, she was ferociously scary and had sent both of them to the healer on several occasions.

‘Ah.. Right.’ If Erza suspected him, then Natsu wouldn't have much time to start his impromptu trip. In truth, he had a hunch about these disappearances, and he intended to check it out himself. That would be difficult now though.

‘And what’s with the pack?’ Gray asked with suspicion.

Natsu put on his best grin for his friend,

‘it’s just fish for Happy!’ Which it was. He would need his beloved feline to stay quiet for his escape. But Gray didn't need to know that. Sheepishly rubbing his hair, he added,

‘I kinda took it when the cook wasn't lookin’. Happy likes the good stuff.’

Gray sighed,

‘So is that why Erza thinks you’re up to something? You know you shouldn’t even be in the King’s kitchens.’

Natsu shrugged. He was hoping his friend bought it. It wasn’t that he was lying to him, no he’d been completely honest so far, he was just missing out a few details.

A few big details.

He decided his chances of slipping away smoothly would be better if he left in the night. He turned back towards the stables,

‘I’m heading to the barn now to feed him before I get caught.’ he jabbed a thumb in the direction he was going, ‘you stalking me there too, stripper?’

At the insult, Gray glanced at himself and swore under his breath. He was only wearing his undergarments, having shed his clothes during their conversation. Muttering to himself, he began to gather his clothes, shaking his head,

‘Nah, I’ll catch up to you later. Stupid habit..’

Natsu smirked, giving a brief wave as he strode away. He heard Gray shout after him once more,

‘Don’t do anything stupid!’

He waved behind himself, a shadow cast on his back.

Happy purred with delight when Natsu walked into the barn, rubbing himself on his masters’ legs and meowing for attention. Natsu grinned and pet the blue feline on the head,

‘Hey, buddy.’

He stopped by the cats' bowl, crouching down beside it, slinging his pack from his shoulder. He would need some fish to placate the cat later in the night, so pulled the smallest portion from his pack. Happy meowed louder, pouncing on the bowl.

Natsu chuckled, pet the feline again and straightened up. The barn was normally a pleasant hub of activity, being managed by the She-devil’s popular and polite younger sister, another shapeshifter. However, in the quiet afternoon light, the barn was empty, save for the horses (including a unicorn and a couple pegasi) and Happy. Natsu knew which stall he looking for, clucking his tongue softly as he approached.

He was answered with a whinny and saw the head appear over the door.

‘Hey boy..’ He reached out to pet his horse, rubbing the large face.

The wooden nameplate on the door was carved with ‘Atlas Flame’, and there hadn't been a horse as well suited to his name as this one.

Flame was a large chestnut stallion, fire occasionally flicking among the long strands of his mane and standing over 17 hands high. His coat shone as bright and bold as any of Natsu’s fire. He had once belonged to Natsu’s Father, Igneel, but had been gifted to him when it was decided the spirited stallion suited him well. Flame usually didn't take kindly to anyone other than Igneel even approaching him, as strong-willed as he was. Yet Natsu with his care-free attitude had struck up a good bond with the horse, surprising everyone who knew the stallion.

‘We’ve got a late ride out this time boy. I'm not sure when we’ll be back.’ Natsu spoke quietly, afraid of being caught in his plans, but took comfort in his sharpened senses telling him he was alone.

Flame snorted and nuzzled his shoulder. Natsu chuckled,

‘I’ll be sure to bring extra carrots.’ He promised.

He unlatched the door and walked inside. He had wanted to check that Atlas Flame was still fit for the journey ahead. He ran his hands down the stallions’ legs, checking the hooves, and then felt along his back.

Flame seemed to watch with amusement. Natsu was satisfied, patting him again, and reached the door. Flame snorted and returned to eating hay as Natsu left.

His next destination was the tack room, to do a quick once over of his equipment.

Once he was done, Happy sat by the barn entrance, as though waiting for him, the sun beginning to set in the sky behind him.

‘You coming back with me today buddy?’

In response, white wings sprouted from the cats’ back.

He grinned again. Despite being Draconic, Natsu couldn’t sprout his wings without feeling furious and subsequently setting fire to everything in his immediate vicinity. His horns were a different story. He just forgot to “put them away”.

‘You giving me a lift or just going to the roof?’

The answer to his question, it turned out, was the latter.

Natsu laughed and set off running for home in the dusk.

He had wanted to visit his Father before he left, He really had. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave easily. He knew they would be worried. He knew that they would come here to look for him, in his rustic home.

His house was on the same land as his fathers. It wouldn't be long before someone came to look for him. So, he hastily scribbled a note, explaining he would be back soon, he had a lead, and not to worry.

He left the note in his house, in plain sight, so it would be easy to find when they came looking. Then, he slipped out under cover of darkness to the stables, bade Happy farewell with a pile of fish, tacked up Atlas Flame and rode off into the night.

In the dead of the night, there was chaos.

The bells tolled, ringing out the alarm.

The titania, Erza Scarlet, rallied the royal guard.

A white-winged, blue-furred cat meowed and took off to the skies in the direction of his master.

Gray cursed from his house, muttering under his breath,

‘That damned idiot!’

He watched knights running the streets, calling the urgent announcement,

‘King Igneel’s son is missing! Prince Natsu is gone!!’

#Nalu #Fairy tail #ft nalu #Natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #Natsu x Lucy #Vampire!Lucy #vamp!au #supernatural #vampire #fan fic #fanfiction #my writing #MJ writes

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kamino-ink · 6 years ago

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Tarantism | Lee Minho

✧ tarantism - the uncontrollable urge to dance

✧ Genre: Fantasy!au, fluff n stuff, cheesy as shit, kinda,, kinky I guess?? so uH SUGGESTIVE THEMES AHEAD sorta kinda fawoaourgheuoadrfnhreug

✧ Summary: you were just messing around with a friend one day, who happened to be jokingly saying a blurb of words that sounded like fake as shit spells when one of them actually worked - on you. now you’re stuck with a cat tail, in search of a wizard who can help you; without anyone else to turn to, you reluctantly turn to lee minho, one of the cockiest bastards you’d ever met - and he happened to be your best friend.

✧ Word Count: 2k

✧ Other installments in the series: woojin, chan, hyunjin, changbin, jeongin, jisung, felix, seungmin

✧

you had a really bad habit of finding yourself in situations where you happened to be the odd man out

from accidently setting your harvestfest dress on fire - even though there was no fire-source around, to somehow managing to chop off a majority of your hair in your sleep

luck was an aspect of life that was seemingly unreachable to someone as unlucky as you were, a fact you dutifully accepted even as a child growing up in the prosperous city of ylanta

you figured that was the only lucky aspect of your life - having the privilege of growing up in the capital of the kingdom, where mature aristocrats and simply rich citizens resided, of course including the royal family

you personally never got the chance to venture anywhere near the palace, unlike a younger boy you’d met once named jeongin

he lived in a poor slum called worcaster, but had somehow managed to run into the prince during one of their tours around the kingdom for some shitty ceremony

ever since then he had made a journey once every few months to sneak into the palace and meet with the prince, felix, and his other best friend, a stableboy named changbin

even though you were older than all three of the close-knit boys, you wished you could have a chance to meet someone as amazing as them

someone warm and loving, someone to be your pillar of support

but the gods decided to send you an elf known as lee minho

he just, showed up one day at your front door a few years back, a sickly grin placed upon his thin lips when you opened the door, staring curiously at the elf before you

all elves were known to be powerful, magical beings, far beyond the normal human’s span of comprehension; everyone in the kingdom was also well aware of the distaste the king and queen had against those with the power to wield magic in general

hence why it was rare to ever see an elf of all things in these parts, and in the very capital of the kingdom, no less

“my fair maiden, would you mind directing me to the royal palace? I seem to have taken a left a bit too far from the main path.” the elf basked in your curious gaze, and you could’ve sworn you saw one of his pointed ears twitch in satisfaction at your grunt of acknowledgement

“yeah, I can show you how to get there-”

“or perhaps,” he interrupted you with a smirk, “you could be as polite as to take me there yourself; I might feel inclined to even invite you into my quarters.”

“... did you just-”

“hmm? sorry, love, I must be getting on my way now, so if you could just tell me how to get back onto the main pathway, it’d be greatly appreciated.”

that day was years ago, back when minho had just come into the capital to start acting as the royal family’s court wizard

he hadn't changed, at all

which was why you were so reluctant to try and go to him for help, of all people, erm, elves

“listen y/n, he can’t be that bad,” your friend insisted, slumping against the trunk of a tree after being turned away yet again from a rumored healer in the city, “I mean, if this wizard is as powerful as you say he is, surely he’ll be able to get rid of... that.” she huffed, glancing pitifully at the long, furry tail sticking out just above your backside

you groaned, rubbing your temples harshly with your fingers. “that’s the problem, I know he can fix this, but he will never let me live this down.”

“he’s your best friend, right?” you nod, still refusing to look at her as it was her fault that your back now had the addition of a fucking cat tail. “then that’s even better, he probably won’t charge you to get rid of the damn thing unlike the poor excuses for healers around here.”

you let out another loud, drawn out groan, resting your forehead against the uncomfortable bark of the tree your friend was leaning on, ignoring the smaller pricks of pain from the wood poking at your skin

she was right, and you knew that better than anyone else did; minho might be the cockiest, most infuriating man you had ever met, but he was also the man you just so happened to claim as your best friend - and he was a fantastic, no, phenomenal wizard

but he would never, ever let you live this down

like the instance where you had spilled water down the front of a white dress, effectively showing off your breasts to the man [which you teased him relentlessly about as well, because you distinctly remember his cheeks flushing a deep, tomato red that day]

or the time when you had tried to sneak into the wizard’s bedroom to drag him out for a nighttime adventure in the woods, only to have scared the actual shit out of the poor, unsuspecting prince [who luckily let you off the hook, only because you promised to never tell anyone that he had actually cried out of fear]

but this? this was a whole other ballgame

but you also knew you had to get the problem fixed as soon as possible, because there was no fucking way the bakery you worked at was going to let you work in the kitchen with a tail that could potentially shed its orange fur into their ingredients

so that is how you found yourself climbing up a vine on the palace wall in the darkest hours of the night, just barely catching yourself with a silent scream when one of your hands nearly misses the vine

still you persist, as you had countless nights before, and climb all the way up to the court wizard’s bedroom window, quietly unlocking it and slipping into his chambers before shutting it again

minho was nowhere to be seen, though you could hear his voice clearly from the other side of his door after you’d crept over to it, pressing your ear onto it to listen

“mam and, uh, mam, I can’t just force the spell onto your daughter, that’s not how magic works. she is clearly far happier here with our stableboy than she could ever be with you filthy hags-” you step away from the door as the arguing voices start to increase in volume, instead choosing to wander back over to the elf’s bed

by the sound of the furious voices outside his bedroom door, you can only assume that the group would be at it for another good minute, so you decide to plop down onto your friend’s mattress, humming softly in content at its plushness

soon enough you start to drift off into your exhaustion from running around like a chicken with its head cut off all day long, pushing away the slightly uncomfortable feeling of laying on part of your tail

your eyelids shut for a split second before you snap them open again

then again

and again

until you finally figure a short nap wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

“holy shit, is this all for me? I must’ve done something right in my past life.”

“minho what the fu-”

the amused elf snickers as your surprised, embarrassed whisper is muffled by a single touch, his finger plush against your lips to shush you

“alright alright, I won’t tease, for now,” he complies, noticing your distress as he helps you sit back up on the edge of the bed beside him, immediately resting your head on his shoulder, “tell me what happened.”

and so you did, including every last detail purely from sheer tiredness and out of needing to rant about the entire situation to someone

“see, she had snuck in a few shots super early this morning - I dunno how or why, but she did. and she got a bit tipsy, insisting I be her test dummy as she starts spewing shit from her mouth,” you ramble, every now and then raising your hands to make some wild gestures to go along with your tale, “so I was like, alright whatever, i’ll just use this against her one day for extra food or something stupid like that. but no, I got a goddamn tail.”

minho chuckles at your exaggerated hand motions and quiet rambling, reassuringly squeezing your thigh anytime you got a bit too worked up

“lucky for you, kitten, I know just the spell to make that pesky tail - disappear!”

“... did you just call me ki-”

“no time for talking love, just spell casting by the best wizard in this god-forsaken city. come on, stand up.” he insists quickly, sauntering over to his bookshelf filled with a plethora of ancient tomes, scouring through them while you begrudgingly stood from the edge of his bed

“aha!” he lets out a satisfied sound, pulling on the spine of a golden colored tome, stepping back towards you as he flips through its tattered and torn pages until he finally stops on one of them

he recites the spell under his breath, but you can’t help and notice how his lips are the slightest bit chapped, yet they still looked so enticing, moving with each word he uttered inaudibly

then you noticed the purple bags under his eyes, feeling a surge of guilt pool through your tired veins

sure, you certainly had a rough day, but it was nothing compared to the bullshit you knew the elf put up with on a daily basis

he was constantly pressured to keep the security on the castle grounds picture-perfect, but he constantly ran the risk of you being caught in the single weak-spot on its exterior; while you would be punished, obviously, for trespassing, you knew damn well that minho would be prosecuted and humiliated in front of the entire kingdom - all because he was an elf

he worked day in and out to satisfy the king and queen, whether it be with more nonconventional deeds or meeting with the leaders of other countries

and on top of all that, he was leading a rebellion against the royal family and its loyal government

[how you came to find out about it isn’t too special - seriously, the trusting elf has just told you in the middle of one of your secret dinners in his own chambers, the pair of you had been feasting on fresh pastries and chugging milk when he told you. you shrugged it off, having already heard the rumors beforehand that a rebellion was brewing]

even now the busy elf was taking time out of his already short sleep schedule to help you

he always took time out of his day just to be around you

“alright y/n, just stand still and look pretty, this should only take a second.” minho’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, to which you nodded and stood completely still, watching as he waved a few fingers around and muttered the spell under his breath

suddenly you were toppling over, the feeling of the tail vanishing but still startling your nerves

“woah there love, no need to start falling for me now.” minho laughs teasingly, having easily caught you in his arms, wrapping them both tightly around your waist to steady your body

then without warning he began to sway both of your bodies at the same time, still staring down at your shell-shocked, blushing expression with a cocky smirk

he continued to sway after another silence had filled the air between your bodies, taking your silence as permission to keep dancing with you, except now he had your chests pressed together, causing your breath to hitch in your throat

as if he could feel your pounding heartbeat, minho leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear while one of his hands deviously slipped farther down your back, all the way to the hole in your shirt from where the tail had first sprouted out of

“what’s wrong, kitten? cat got your tongue?”

✧

#skzwriters #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee minho #Minho scenaro #Minho imagine #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #suggestive #Minho calling you kitten?? yes please #its 12:08 am kill me

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kimnamjooonz · 6 years ago

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Blank Space - Episode 9

PBlank Space

Showing up in this episode:

Karlie Kloss

Tom Holland:

Taylor Swift:

Chris Evans:

Basically everyone is here.

Songs that inspired this chapter:

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m bored - Ariana Grande. (Morgan’s song)

I’m a Mess - Bebe Rexha (Also Morgan’s song)

Don’t Hurt Yourself - Beyonce

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Hands To Myself - Selena Gomez

Mambo N. 5 - Lou Bega

Dancing Queen - Abba

Africa - Toto

Hey Ya - Outkast

Blank Space - Taylor Swift.

Okay, this is a hot mess but I had a lot of fun writing it.

''Oh my God, who is she, I get drunk on jealousy, when you come back is time you leave, cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like daydream.''

After the Madison Square Garden outing, the two weirdest weeks followed. Morgan and Sebastian had rescued a cat and almost kissed but after that, Sebastian came back to his senses and Morgan went into a spiral of anger without any precedent. The thing was that for a moment she had thought that she had achieved something after the moment they had shared while rescuing Thirteen so, it was a disappointment of the size of the Empire State when on the next day pictures of Sebastian and his girlfriend splashed the Internet. Morgan was as livid as the majority of Sebastian's fans. But, just like in the old times, she kept her emotions to herself and went on with her life. Only Taylor noticed that something was off and that Morgan was ready to snap. Not of stress or pressure but of anger. But Morgan was taking revenge in the best way she could: by landing her first Vogue cover, being invited to every show at the New York fashion week and hanging out with the most popular models afterwards. And being loved by apparently everyone on the Internet. On set, everything was as normal as it ever was. Morgan and Sebastian kept their outstanding chemistry but when the cameras stopped rolling, they went back to their brooding selves, hardly sharing a word. At least they weren't shouting at each other anymore even though Sebastian could see a shadow of anger in Morgan's eyes every time she looked at him. There were only two people that knew the reason why Morgan had been like a chained monster the last couple of weeks: her assistant Lucas and her new friend Karlie Kloss. She had met Karlie at the New York Fashion Week and they had immediately clicked. They were often pictured together leaving events or hanging out around the city. Morgan hadn't had any other option but to tell Lucas as he had found her smashing a glass of water to the floor after a new set of pictures of Sebastian and his girlfriend had surfaced the Internet, this time kissing. Lucas was a bit alarmed by Morgan's attack of jealousy and decided to call Karlie to help him handle her. He decided to not tell Taylor who was going to give Morgan an earful, without any doubt. Together decided to distract Morgan with an sleepover and a Harry Potter marathon. Taylor joined them, even though she found the situation curious. Morgan just lied and told her that she had had a bad day at set and they were helping her to relax. But Morgan needed help to release that anger. The best solution was to get over Sebastian but everyone knew that this was not going to happen any time soon. Morgan's solution was to run him over with her Porsche but Lucas had pointed out that this was probably getting Morgan to prison and would end her career in a heartbeat. Luckily Karlie proposed Morgan to do kickboxing with her and she had liked the idea. She already knew how to do rugby tackles and now she was learning to punch and kick. Lucas and Taylor were a bit reluctant. The were starting to fear for Sebastian Stan's well being. Taylor still remember the words that Clint had told Morgan at the airport: 'If they break your heart, you break their necks.'. She prayed that Morgan didn't took that piece of advice to heart. But after a week doing kickboxing, she could feel the difference. Anger wasn't clouding her thoughts anymore and she could feel her wits getting sharper and more calculating. Or that was what she thought. Many others had noticed too. Taylor, Lucas and Karlie were proud of her as she was in a much better mood. Even Sebastian had noticed. There was no anger in her eyes anymore but sometimes she caught her staring at him in a way that made him wonder if she knew something he didn't or if she was planning to give him an slow and painful death. That Friday evening Morgan was with Lucas and Karlie at the gym. Don't Hurt Yourself by Beyoncé was blasting and Morgan was punching a punching bag with all the force in the world, and the song was motivating. They were even singing some lyrics. ''I am the dragon breathing fire, beautiful mane I'm the lion, beautiful man I know you're lying...'' Punch. Karlie was impressed. In a week Morgan's workout was noticeable. She looked even more stunning, if that was possible. ''Morgan, sing the next part because it's absolutely epic.'' said Lucas, laughing.

''We just got to let it be, let it be, let it be, baby'.. HEY BABY'' Punch. ''WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK ARE YOU?'' Punch. ''I SMELL THAT FRAGANCE ON YOUR LOUIS V BOY'' Punch. 'JUST GIVE MY FAT ASS A BIG KISS BOY'' Punch. ''TONIGHT I'M FUCKING UP ALL YOUR SHIT BOY'' Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Morgan was punching that bag as it had personally offended her.

''This is so cathartic'' said Lucas, who was lying on a mat, tired. ''It is'' the song had stopped and Morgan was on a little break to drink water and rest. ''Brilliant, Morgan, brilliant'' said Peter, Morgan and Karlie's personal trainer. He was a lovable big guy, who was always flirting with Lucas. And Lucas shamelessly flirted back. Morgan always thought that he was the reason why Lucas kept going to the gym with her and Karlie. ''I wouldn't like to be the person you're angry at.'' ''You're right. You wouldn't like to.'' Morgan looked at her reflection on the big mirror and she loved what she saw. Her back was more muscular and her arms more defined. ''Are you sure you're not training for an action movie?'' he asked. ''Something Marvel related? After all, you work with Sebastian Stan and he's from Marvel.'' Thinking of the DEVIL, there he was, mentioned again. ''Not at all. Maybe I take on the mantle of Captain America now that Chris Evans is leaving.'' she said with sarcasm. ''It seems that you're enjoying being Stan's partner way too much that you want to do it again.'' Karlie teased her again and Lucas laughed out loud. Peter was the only one that didn't understand. ''Keep teasing, you two'' Morgan rolled her eyes at him. ''Let's do something else.'' ''Let's try to combine your kicks with your punches, okay?'' Karlie was searching for another song to motivate Morgan. Taylor Swift's I did Something Bad was the chosen one. Morgan was thinking exactly the same. Peter was guiding Morgan in everything that she needed to do, and of course that the song lyrics were helping her. They say I did something bad, why does it feel so good? Punch. They say I did something bad why does it feel so... Punch. ...good? Kick. Most fun I ever had and I'll do it over and over and over again...'' Punch. If I could... Kick. It just felt so... Punch. Kick. ...good. Punch. Kick. Karlie and Lucas were having a lot of fun, watching Morgan kick and punch, totally possessed with the song. ''LIGHT ME UP! LIGHT ME UP! GO AHEAD AND LIGHT ME UP!'' they sang, trying not to laugh. She finished basically submissing Peter. ''Okay, okay, you were good Morgan. Anger motivates you.'' he ruffled her hair. ''See you newt week and don't punch anyone, okay?'' She just nodded. She was so tired that she was lying in a mat, breathing heavily and trying to get some energy and get up. ''So... ready for tonight?'' Karlie asked. That night there was going to be a cast party but everyone knew it was more than that. Many people was going to go, and they weren't related to the movie at all but Damien had invited them for publicity. Morgan herself had invited Taylor, Lucas and Karlie. Everyone knew that Sebastian was going to bring his girlfriend and everyone was asking if Joe Alwyn was going to bring Taylor Swift. For all of these reasons, Morgan was excited. ''More than ever'' she was still lying on the mat, moving her hands sensually at the rhythm of Selena Gomez's Hands To Myself. Lucas jumped from the mat with Morgan's phone in his hands. ''Can I film this for your Instagram? This is too priceless. Post workout Morgan Llewellyn lip synching and looking devastatingly sexy. Perfect.'' ''Perfect to PornHub'' commented Karlie. ''Shut up, Kloss. Now, do what you were doing, Morgan. Remember, you can't keep your hands to yourself. Taylor is going to kill you but not before you kill a certain someone of a heart attack. Now, action.'' At the other side of Manhattan, Sebastian was opening the new Instagram notification from Morgan only to end up weak on the knees with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull. He had to sit down to call himself a little and watch the video again. ''Damn'' was the only thing he could mumble.

''You are absolutely out of control.'' Taylor reprimanded Morgan once they were at home getting ready for the party. ''I told you not to post sexy stuff.'' ''It was good.'' Morgan was ready and she was sitting on the table, looking bored. ''Did you see how many likes it got?'' ''Yeah, including one from your co-star.'' Taylor kept curling her hair. Lucas giggled. He was straightening the front of his shirt. He and Morgan knew that they had achieved their purpose. And it was just he beginning. Lucas couldn't wait to see what else Morgan had in store. She looked spectacular, with a metallic short, loose dress, that had a star in the middle with an inscription in Welsh. It highlighted her long legs to perfection. She accompanied the look with high heels, snake themed jewellery and her signature red lip. ''Beth bynnag y mae'n ei gymryd, rwyf bob amser yn ennill.'' Taylor read the inscription in Morgan's dress. ''Isn't that a bit threatening?'' ''It depends how you take it. And no one except you understands Welsh.'' ''What does it say?'' asked Lucas. ''Whatever it takes, I'm always going to win.'' Taylor translated the sentence. ''Childish.'' however, Taylor was a bit weary of Morgan, who was not going to give up in whatever she was planning. Taylor didn't want to know. So, Morgan was going to go there making statements and no one was going to understand. ''Let's go, remember we're picking up Karlie on our way there.''

Sebastian was already in the place accompanied by his girlfriend and his friends. Damien Chazelle was around as well as some of the cast, pop music was on the background and the place was peaceful only because Morgan Llewellyn hadn't arrived yet. ''Are you sure she's not here yet?'' Florence asked. ''Yes. If she were here you'd notice that. She's chaotic and this place too peaceful.'' Florence wanted to meet the infamous Morgan Llewellyn once and for all to see if she was as bad as Sebastian said she was. Sebastian glanced at the windows. A horde of paparazzi were outside that didn't pay much attention to him when he got in. They most asked questions that were asked went like: ''Are you and Morgan dating? Because you should, you look gorgeous together'' (and they had asked that IN FRONT of his girlfriend), ''What do think about Morgan's latest Instagram video?'' or ''What do you think about the rumour of Morgan Llewellyn leading the live action Wicked movie?''. They just wanted to ask stuff about Morgan. Suddenly there was a commotion outside and there were flashes everywhere. ''What the hell...'' Florence mumbled. ''There she is. I told you she was chaotic.'' Florence suddenly wanted to leave. She hadn't even seen Morgan yet and she knew that she was whatever but good news. She was too overwhelming and she hadn't entered the building yet. And her feelings were justified when Morgan entered the place. Immediately, Sebastian's group knew that he had been right: pictures didn't do her justice. Morgan in person was ten times more gorgeous and with that metallic dress that exposed her long legs she looked like an exotic flamingo. In Florence's opinion she looked like a beautiful snake. ''I think I lost my ability to breath'' Chace mumbled. ''If you don't want her for you, set me up!'' ''Shut up, Chace!'' Sebastian desperately hissed. But he was with his eyes fixed on Morgan in a not so subtle manner. But Florence was staring at Morgan too. She was built like a Victoria's Secret Angel and she walked like one. She was pacing the room with feline steps, like she owned the place. She was vibrant, magnetic, full of life and absolutely chaotic. Morgan wasn't looking at them but Karlie Kloss was and Florence didn't like her expression. When Florence finally took her glance off of Morgan she saw Sebastian, Toby, Will and Chace staring at her with their mouths hanging open. ''Snap out of it!'' Florence reprimanded them but none only Will took notice. Morgan walked straight to Damien who was waiting for her. ''My dear Morgan! I was waiting for you! Finally the star of the show is here! I want you to meet a couple of people...'' In five minutes she was surrounded by a circle of influential people. From Greta Gerwig, Patty Jenkins, Kevin Feige (that no one knew what was he doing there) and many more. Only after half an hour she was free. ''I think I'm meeting my cast mates'' she said to Karlie and Lucas (Taylor was still talking to Greta Gerwig). Firstly she went to greet Michael and Alicia and then Emily and her husband John Krasinski. They talked for some minutes until Morgan decided that she couldn't keep avoiding the inevitable and approached Sebastian's table before she had any chance of chickening out and running away. Florence felt a pit in her stomach when she saw Morgan approaching. But there was no way to avoid her. But Morgan wasn't looking at her, she had her impressive blue eyes fixed on Sebastian. ''Nice co-star you make. You're here hiding while I have to deal with everyone.'' Florence was surprised. She was expecting Morgan Llewellyn to hiss or to speak Parseltongue. Instead, she had a silky voice that combined with a standard British accent that made it sound completely irresistible. ''What's the deal with you, mate? You always act like you don't even want to be here.'' Florence absolutely detested her. She just needed a couple of seconds next to Morgan to see that she was even worse than what Sebastian said she was. ''You have the whole stage to yourself, Llewellyn. Go and shine.'' Florence wondered if that was banter or if they really were used to say snarky things at each other. ''It tears me apart to say this, doll, but you may be right. With that sour face you won't charm anyone. Why don't you leave? TacoBell is having discount night. You can have a nice dinner there.'' Wait a second... since when Morgan Llewellyn called Sebastian 'doll'? ''I told you two weeks ago, princess. I'm not leaving, I'm staying.'' Florence was about to blow up. He was shamelessly calling Morgan 'princess'. He didn't even called her like that. What was the game they were playing at? ''That's on you, Stan. Have fun if you like or do whatever the hell you want, I don't care. Remember we're on the public eye and we're supposed to be friends so at least smile when you're talking to me. I don't want a Madison Square Garden 2.0, believe me, doll'' Florence couldn't stand it anymore. ''Hello, I'm Florence. I'm Sebastian's girlfriend.'' she had to intervene before Morgan tore Sebastian apart with her words. And she couldn't stand her calling him 'doll'. ''Oh, hi'' Morgan looked at her with a sweet expression. Nothing on her beautiful face revealed a drop of animosity but her eyes told a complete different story. They were cold as ice. ''Sebastian talks a lot about you.'' Sebastian couldn't believe that Florence was saying that. But his girlfriend was still angry because he had called Morgan 'princess'. ''How nice'' Morgan said with an unemotional voice. ''Can't say the same, but we almost never talk, so don't worry.'' Florence was reading the words on Morgan's dress. They were in some strange language that she didn't know. It wouldn't surprise her if it was a curse. Nothing would surprise her about Morgan. ''What does it say?'' she asked with a fake smile, pointing at the dress. ''To be or not to be, that is the question'' she lied without wincing. The message was to Sebastian, not to Florence. ''Shakespeare's Hamlet in Welsh. Balmain customised this dress for me with this quote.'' ''So you are Welsh. I thought you were British.'' Florence meant to say 'English' but she couldn't think clearly with Morgan in front of her. Morgan blinked a couple of times in confusion. ''Wales is part of Britain.. but maybe I'm not the best person to explain this... you can always go to the Wikipedia. It's pretty clearly explained.'' she turned around, making it clear that the conversation was over. Then she noticed Chace. ''You're Chace Crawford! Oh darlin'! I love you since Gossip Girl!'' Sebastian almost dropped his glass to the floor. He could see that Chace had got numb. ''Thank you. That is... a wonderful compliment.'' ''I have to go now, see you later.'' she smiled at him in a nice way, not flirty or anything of the sort. They all watched Morgan leave and take a seat in a table with Lucas and Karlie. ''She hates me'' Florence said, out of nowhere. ''She doesn't'' Toby showed up out of nowhere after he and Will had vanished when Morgan appeared to the scene. But they had been listening to everything. ''She hates Sebastian, you're just collateral damage. And she was pretty nice to you.'' Will laughed out loud. ''She literally said 'Can't say the same' and sent her to look up stuff in the Wikipedia. In which world that counts as being nice? Sebastian was right, she's a snake.'' ''She's not!'' apparently Chace was caught in the Morgan spell. ''I don't know what did you see. But she's really nice. She's just angry at you because you got two hours late to the first read through and invented she was on a date with you, Florence'' Sebastian wanted to punch Chace on the face. That was one of the things he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. But apparently justifying Morgan was more important to him. ''But you weren't! Sebastian!'' Florence looked at him with anger. ''Thank you very much! She was right after all! Where were you by the way?'' Sebastian couldn't think of an explanation that made sense. He had had a mental breakdown that fateful morning but he was not telling that to Florence. ''It doesn't matter'' ''Yes, it matters because thanks to your stupid lies now Morgan Llewellyn loathes me and wants me out of the picture'' Sebastian, Chace and Toby looked at her with their eyebrows raise. ''C'mon! You can see it all over her fake sweet face.'' ''You're just paranoid'' Sebastian kept his eyes glued to Morgan's back, who was with her friends and some other people. ''If she hates someone here, she hates me.'' ''The thing is...'' Will looked at him, straight in the eyes. ''...she doesn't hate you, Sebastian. And you know it.'' Many more people had arrived and some of them had joined Morgan and her friends who were just talking about harmless stuff like pets or what was going to happen in the next season of Game of Thrones. Between Morgan's new company were Tom Holland, Zendaya, Jacob Batalon and Harrison Osterfield. No one knew why they were there but their funny personalities gave life to the group. Tom Holland started to tell anecdotes that had everyone in tears. Sebastian couldn't kept his eyes away from her for a second. And she hadn't looked at him once. He got distracted only when Chace stood up. ''Where are you going?'' he asked. ''With them.'' he pointed at Morgan's group. ''They're a young and lively bunch.'' ''So you're on her side, now. Wow, thank you, Chace.'' ''I'm in nobody's side, stop being so immature. They look like they're having a great time and we're here in silence watching them have fun. I'd rather be there.'' And without any more words he left and second later he was installing himself between Zendaya and Karlie Kloss, being all smiles. The only thing Sebastian wanted was to follow him. After a while Toby's loyalty to him was over and he followed on Chace's footsteps. Morgan received him with a huge smile. Only Will and Florence were still with him. ''I'm getting a drink'' he almost ran to the bar. Michael Fassbender was there and Morgan was near, mysteriously talking with Karlie and Tom. Maybe they were talking about him or maybe he was as paranoid as Florence. He asked for a beer and was going to get back to his table when Michael approached him. ''Finally I get you alone... I'm going to be direct with you because you look painfully unhappy... just, once and for all, make up your mind'' ''What?'' he knew that what Michael had just said made perfect sense but he was not going to admit it. ''Don't try to deny it. I've been watching you and you could take your eyes off of her for a second.'' it was pretty clear who 'her' was. ''Just...clear that head of yours. Once you do that, you'll be a happier person, trust me.'' Michael went back to his table, in which his wife was talking to Morgan's agent. He was still processing Michael's words and looking at Morgan, who was talking only with Karlie, who after getting a drink was going back to the table. It was now or never. Without overthinking too much he approached her. He knew that what he was doing was wrong but he didn't care. Suddenly he was feeling reckless. ''So, you've been working out, Llewellyn?'' Morgan looked at him with suspicion. ''Glad you watched my Instagram video. I guess you enjoyed it.'' ''Yeah, half the world enjoyed it.'' he got one step closer to her. ''But that's not how I noticed. You look different. Stronger.'' Morgan had a side smirk on her face. ''Thanks for the compliment. There's nothing better than strength in this world. Physical strength and strength of character get you ahead in this universe. You feel powerful.'' He got even closer to her. ''What the hell are you playing at?'' Morgan looked at him with a side smile, without no hint of shame. ''My own game, Stan. It's not my fault you're bitter because you're not involved in it.'' He looked at her with the same smile. ''Are you sure of that? I'm pretty much sure I'm well into your game.'' ''Why don't you... prove it?'' she said the last words very slowly. She knew he couldn't. She was never evident about her feelings in front of anyone, let alone, him. He got so close to her that they were almost touching. Morgan needed all her self control to keep herself level headed. ''I thought something had changed between us after MSG. But no. You went back to being the insufferable person you were before.'' ''Look who's talking! I didn't see much of a difference in your behaviour, Stan.'' He had his eyes glued to her. Even though the room was full, this moment was just theirs. ''We shared a moment, Morgan.'' ''And? You come here talking about moments, when your girlfriend is right there looking at you. You have no shame, Sebastian. You thought we shared a moment but, I'm sorry to tell you that nothing of what I told you was of much importance''. But he didn't give up. He closed the space between them, placing her hand softly on her shoulder and leaned in order to whisper something on her ear. ''Keep lying to yourself, Morgan.'' his lips were almost brushing her skin. ''It meant something for you and it meant a lot to me.'' he placed a short and soft kiss just below her ear, leaving Morgan absolutely disarmed. He left with a smile and winking. The bastard knew that her had won this round. At least Morgan had the consolation that his girlfriend was going to give him hell and erase that winning smile from his face. But she was needing all her self control because her insides were screaming. She was obviously very shaken. ''What did he tell you?'' asked Karlie when she was back at the table. ''Nothing of importance.'' she said with all the calm in the world. ''Some crap about my Instagram video. Idiot.'' she didn't know why she was lying to Karlie. Maybe because there were many things that she liked to keep to herself. Like the sensation of Sebastian Stan's lips brushing against her skin for less than a second. Sebastian kept the winning smile for a good while. The magic lasted until Florence spoke. ''Are you going to explain what happened with your co-star? You two were pretty close.'' ''I was just telling her something about Tom Holland. Nothing serious'' he wasn't very focused on giving a strong excuse. The only thing that ran around his head was the softness of Morgan's skin and how good it'd feel to place more kisses in that neck of hers... Will, who had spent the night basically in silence, noticed Sebastian's absent minded and dreamy expression. ''Sebastian!'' Florence said in a loud voice that scared him a little. ''I was talking to you.'' ''Yeah, I know and I wasn't hexed by Morgan, we were just talking.'' once again, he was talking before thinking. '' She's a person by the way, not a creature from Mordor...'' then he noticed Florence's expression. ''Do you think I'm having an affair with her? Trust me, I'm not.'' ''I don't trust you'' she blatantly said. ''But I trust Morgan's ego. She'd never accept to be anyone's side chick. She has to be in the spotlight, she demands full attention, she has to be the one and only. I kind of pity the poor guy that ends up with her.'' Sebastian didn't share that view. ''She's not that bad, you know.'' ''Sebastian!'' he got yelled for the second time in ten minutes, this time by Will. ''You were the one that told us that she was a snake and we believed you. We're on your side, not like Chace and Toby, who are there laughing and having fun.'' But they couldn't finish what they were talking about because someone was making his way into the place: the one and only Chris Evans. Before Sebastian could even wave at him, Damien had already caught him and a second later he was introducing him to Morgan Llewellyn. ''What the hell Damien!'' he hissed. The only thought he had on his head was 'Not Chris, not Chris, not Chris, anyone but Chris.' He had to control himself for ten minutes while watching them talk. Thankfully someone had got the idea of dancing and Morgan had grabbed Jacob's arm and jumped to the dancefloor. Sebastian was starting to hate the Mambo Number Five only because he just wanted to be in Jacob Batalon's place so hard it hurt. Some minutes later she was dancing to Dancing Queen with Chace. But the worst was yet to come. It seemed that the world was testing how much jealousy he could bear before snapping. The first notes of Africa by Toto started to sound and he was absolutely scandalised when he saw Chris inviting Morgan to dance this particular song. And she accepted. Of course she was going to accept. Who on earth would reject dancing with Chris Evans? ''I can't believe it!'' he hissed. ''This is our song!'' ''What? Do you have a song with Morgan Llewellyn?!'' Florence just couldn't deal with this situation. She was discovering a side of Sebastian she had never seen before. The side that was very similar to Morgan's chaotic personality. And she didn't like it one bit. ''Just ignore him'' Will answered for him because Sebastian was too concentrated looking a Morgan and Chris. ''He's bewitched. It seems like that woman's exclusive fragance was poisonous after all.'' ''Well...'' Florence said bitterly. ''I don't see Toby, Tom Holland and his friends or Chris Evans bewitched. Not even Chace looks like a dreamy idiot anymore. Only Sebastian is acting like a fool. What does she have anyway?'' ''What she doesn't have'' it seemed like Sebastian was listening after all. The song ended and Morgan and Chris stayed a bit further apart from the rest of the group, sitting alone in a table. Sebastian was fuming. ''I have to stop this.'' he stood up and went towards Chris and Morgan. ''Sebastian, don't!'' Florence was getting desperate. ''Just don't do it!'' but he didn't listen. Chris and Morgan were having a normal conversation. None of them was flirting, that was absolutely out of the question. They were just talking about their pets. Chris was telling Morgan all about his dog, Dodger. ''...I love him. He's like my son. He's so unique... do you have dogs?'' There was nothing that Morgan liked more than talking about her animals. ''I have two corgis. Well, one is actually my brother's. We named them after Doctor Who characters. Mine's Doctor River Song and Clint's Captain Jack Harkness. I also have cats.'' ''Oh, I like cats too, no more than dogs but they can be nice. Are yours named after fictional characters too?'' ''No. I named them after Elizabethan people. I have Sir Francis Drake, William Shakespeare and Lady Elizabeth Tudor, who was Queen Elizabeth's name when she was Henry VIII's bastard daughter. It's impressive the amount of history you can learn through Shakespeare plays. Oh, and I rescued a cat here in New York. I named him Thirteen because of the thirteenth Doctor, who's finally a female, and I was born on a thirteen.'' She didn't mention Sebastian in the story. He had been the one that had actually found Thirteen after all. But Chris, or anyone else, didn't needed to know that. ''I was also born on a thirteenth. But of June.'' And also Sebastian, Morgan thought. But of August. Great. The triumvirate of the Thirteens. ''And I also have a sheep'' she added before making the mistake of blurting stuff about Sebastian in front of Chris Evans. ''Lady Macbeth....'' she was about to explain why she had chosen that name when she was interrupted by Sebastian. ''And here comes the Grinch.'' ''Chris, we need to talk.'' Chris was as surprised as Morgan by his attitude. ''Well, hello Sebastian. I had no idea that you were here. I haven't seen you yet.'' ''Yeah, yeah, we need to talk'' he basically dragged Chris away from Morgan, who wondered if he was jealous of her as she was talking with his beloved Chris Evans. ''Seb, are you okay?'' Chris was a bit concerned. ''What are you doing talking to her?'' he asked with bothering to answer Chris' question. ''Sebastian, are you drunk?'' Chris grabbed Sebastian's face and looked at his eyes. ''You're not. Not on alcohol at least. On jealousy, maybe. What the hell is wrong with you, Sebastian? You have a girlfriend and you're being a jerk to me because I was talking to Morgan about pets! Be honest, do you like her?'' Sebastian was a bit ashamed. He had gone there with the intention of call out Chris but the tables had turned in a second and Chris had got him straight in the wound. ''She's my co-star'' ''And? Do you think you're entitled to control her life just because she's your co-star?'' Chris laughed. ''Please, do me a favour and calm yourself down. I know you like her and you're conflicted so I'm letting this one pass as it never happened but... make up your mind.'' Sebastian found it weird that he was told the same by two different people, Michael and Chris. ''Do it sooner rather than later because you'll lose your girlfriend, Morgan Llewellyn and who knows who else, okay?'' Chris patted his shoulder with tenderness and a bit of pity. ''Chris, one more thing...'' he looked as if he was fearing the answer. ''Do you like her?'' ''I met her half an hour ago. She's a nice woman. Interesting to talk to, very charismatic. Now I know why the general public likes her so much.'' Defeated, he went back to his table. Chris went back to Morgan who was very intrigued to know what the hell Sebastian wanted. ''He was jealous'' said Chris before Morgan asked anything. ''What an idiot. Does he fear me to be a bad influence on you?'' ''He wasn't jealous of you. He was jealous of me talking to you.'' Morgan looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Her face remained unemotional. ''That is even worse. The guy has a girlfriend.'' Chris didn't believe her for a second. Maybe her unemotional voice, relaxed body language and the expression of her eyes were pretty convincing but Chris was absolutely sure that there was something else between these two. ''Whatever Sebastian feels for you, is mutual, isn't it?'' There was no need to keep lying. Chris had caught her. ''How do you know? Nevermind... look, it's weird. We hardly ever talk let alone touch if it's not strictly scripted. So, I have no idea what the hell is going on.'' She was being honest, there were days that she was really confused about what the hell was going on. ''There's something implicit between you two and you'll never admit it to each other because you're too proud for that. And he also has a girlfriend, which complicates things even more. And he's scared to leave her because what if everything backfires and he ends up staying alone. And he's probably very confused. Nice situation he got himself in.'' ''Wow, you're good in this. Anyway, I won't do anything as long as he has a girlfriend. Cheating is always wrong and he should know it. And I'm no one's second choice. Well, maybe the second woman to play the Doctor after Jodie Whittaker who's amazing. Anyway, I won't ever be 'the other woman'. That's simple humiliating.'' and she wasn't counting on the fact that she had been his fan for years. Embarrassing stuff to the limit. ''Of course it is. You deserve...'' He was about to say 'better' but Morgan wasn't listening anymore. She was looking at the door, where Joe Alwyn was making his entrance (late, by the way) accompanied by a woman that everyone in this room knew. Taylor Swift. ''Oh my God.'' she mumbled, looking at Joe talking to Damien and introducing Taylor to him. ''I've loved this woman since 2009, and I can't believe she's in front of me.'' ''I saw her live once'' Chris commented. ''She's really good.'' She was going to tell something to Chris but it was too late because Joe was already there. ''Hey, Morgan!'' he cheerfully exclaimed. ''And... Oh My God, Chris Evans. Captain America. Wow.'' he was a bit dumfounded for a minute and he wasn't the only one. He was fangirling with Chris just like Morgan was fangirling with Taylor. The difference was that Morgan didn't let it show and Joe's eyes basically shouted 'I LOVE CHRIS EVANS'. ''Hi, I'm Taylor!'' Morgan was surprised that bloody Taylor Swift was introducing herself in such a simple manner. ''Joe told me a lot about you. Believe it or not I've seen you before! I saw Lady Macbeth with Joe in 2016. I had to put on a wig just to pass as a normal person. But you were fantastic, really moving and wonderful. When Joe told me who you were I basically clapped like a seal.'' Morgan was sure that she was looking as starstruck as Joe. And she had performed in front of Taylor Swift in 2016 and she was learning about it in 2018. Nice. ''I've admired you since 2009. I know all of your lyrics, they've helped me out so many times to count.'' They were praising each other for a while and then went on talking about whatever that crossed their minds. Acting, cast mates, Hollywood, childhood stories. Anything. On his table Sebastian was with a wide smile. She had never loved Taylor Swift as much as at that moment. He wanted to stick a poster of her in his room. Thanks to her, Morgan had moved away from Chris. ''Someone should call Lord Voldemort to come and pick up his people.'' said Will, pointing at Morgan and Taylor with his head. ''They kind of look alike except from the hair colour.'' Sebastian disagreed with everything he had said. ''No. They don't look similar at all.'' once again he was making the stupid mistake of talking before thinking, ''Morgan has no comparison. She's the most beautiful woman in the world, hands down.'' He knew immediately that he shouldn't have said that. At least not in front of his girlfriend. ''You know what?'' she asked with coldness in her voice. ''Enjoy the rest of your night.'' Without saying a thing more, she stood up and left. ''Florence, wait, I'm sorry!'' ''Just, stay here, okay?'' Will was taking the situation under control before Sebastian made more of a mess causing a public scandal. ''I'll drive her home and make sure she's okay. You screwed this up.'' On the way out Florence didn't want to look at Morgan Llewellyn because she was sure that she had her signature sarcastic side smile, buy she did it anyway. And she had been wrong because Morgan was immersed into a conversation with Taylor Swift and hadn't noticed anything at all. Florence hated that harpy more than anyone she had ever met. Sebastian was looking around, making sure no one had noticed that fight with his girlfriend. But there was only Harrison Osterfield on a near table, typing something on his phone, not aware of anything. Morgan only noticed that something had happened when she had got a text from Harrison with all the gossip. And Taylor had also noticed something. ''I think your co-star is in trouble'' she said. Of course that Joe had told Taylor all about Sebastian and Morgan's constant bickering on set. ''I think he is'' Morgan was still looking at her phone. ''Are you two still fighting?'' she asked and Morgan wanted to laugh. Not even in her wildest dreams she could have imagined that someday she was going to be a topic of conversation for Taylor Swift and her boyfriend. ''Sort of.'' she simply said. She glanced at Sebastian who was looking a bit miserable and lonely. And she felt pity for him. Curse the fangirl feelings. ''I don't know why I'm doing this but... do you want to meet him?'' she asked Taylor who simply nodded. She made her way towards Sebastian's table with Taylor closely following. When they got there, they sat at Sebastian's side. ''I don't know what's happening to me, Stan but... I feel sorry for you.'' ''I didn't know you were capable of feeling, Llewellyn. This is a nice surprise.'' ''Oh, and... Sebastian, this is Taylor Swift. Taylor, this is Sebastian Stan.'' For some reason Sebastian wasn't very excited at meeting one of the most famous persons in the world. He was more busy guessing why Morgan had decided to talk to him at all. ''Nice to meet you. I really like your songs.'' it was the most stupid thing he had ever said but luckily for him, Taylor didn't seem to mind. ''And I saw you in I, Tonya. You were absolutely fantastic. It was outrageous that the Academy snubbed you. As outrageous as Morgan not getting nominated to the Lawrence Olivier.'' ''And Red deserved a Grammy'' Morgan and Sebastian said at the same time. It was the first time in his life that he admitted to liking that particular album. Morgan kept her intense gaze fixed on Sebastian. ''Look, I'm going to be honest here'' she suddenly said. ''I mean it when I said that I was sorry for you. You look so unhappy and lonely here that it makes me feel bad. You should be with us, dancing, talking and having fun. Make up your mind, Sebastian.'' this was the third time he was told of this in just one night. And somehow Morgan Llewellyn was more convincing than Michael or Chris. ''It's time for you to do what you want, not what you need. Just like I do.'' He looked at her with raised eyebrows. But what Morgan had just said made perfect sense. ''And does it work?'' he asked with genuine curiosity. He couldn't believe he was planning to follow Morgan's life advice. ''Just look at me! I've always done whatever the hell I wanted and look where I am!'' she got closer to him. ''I think it's worth a try.'' she whispered on his ear. ''Let's take a picture together! For sure it'd get attention! Can we kiss you on the cheeks?'' ''Go ahead'' he tried to keep calm. Morgan placed her head on his shoulder and he almost got dizzy with her fragance. She smelled like diamonds, fun, excitement, the city after dark and passionate nights. Before he knew she was 'kissing' him on the cheek, but barely touching him. Taylor had just wrapped an arm around his shoulder and making a face. And that was the picture. Just in this moment, Hey Ya by Outkast started to blast throughout the place. Even Damien was dancing. ''This song!'' Taylor exclaimed with a big grin. ''We have to dance!'' ''This song is my childhood'' Morgan and Taylor stood up at the same time. Sebastian thought that Morgan was exaggerating when she had said that this song was her childhood as he had been in his early twenties when that song came out. Then he remembered that Morgan was just twenty five and she was like ten or eleven when she was listening to Outkast. Yeah, that song was her childhood. He saw Morgan making her way to the dancefloor but she stopped in the middle of the way and came back to where he was. ''Come'' she suddenly said. He was expecting anything from Morgan but not this. ''What?'' he blinked a couple of times, confused. ''Come with us and have fun''. She extended her perfectly manicured hand and without thinking it twice he took it in his, with a smile on his face.

Morgan Llewellyn during this whole chapter:

P.S. my Morgan is painful to deal with but I love her.

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