#the other one spreading fabricated rumors about employees

[troglodytemignon]

Love to work in an increasingly dysfunctional and paranoid workplace

[alexandraisyes]

Online Harassment

Online harassment has become an increasingly pervasive issue, affecting individuals across all platforms. From subtle microaggressions to outright threats, harassment takes many forms, each with its own set of consequences. In this post, we'll break down the different types of online harassment, their impact, and what can be done to address them.

Important vocabulary: Misinformation is false or inaccurate information—getting the facts wrong. Disinformation is false information that deliberately intends to mislead—intentionally misstating the facts.

Let's start with what does not count as harassment:

What Doesn't Count as Harassment

Constructive Criticism: Offering feedback aimed at improving someone's work or behavior. For example, a manager providing an employee with feedback on how to improve their performance.

Disagreement or Debate: Engaging in a civil disagreement or discussion on a topic. For example, two colleagues having a heated but respectful debate about a work-related issue.

Enforcing Rules or Policies: Applying rules or policies in a consistent and fair manner. For example, a teacher enforcing classroom rules or a supervisor addressing attendance issues according to company policy.

Isolated Incidents: A single, non-repetitive instance of a comment or action that might be offensive but is not part of a pattern of behavior. For example, a colleague making an offhand remark that could be seen as rude but immediately apologizes.

Perceived Slights or Misunderstandings: Situations where an action or comment is misinterpreted or taken out of context. For example, someone feeling slighted because of a misunderstood joke that wasn’t meant to offend.

Friendly Banter or Jokes (If Mutual): Light-hearted exchanges that both parties understand and accept as non-offensive. For example, friends or close colleagues teasing each other in a way that both find funny and acceptable.

Normal Management Actions: Legitimate management actions taken in the course of business, like performance reviews, promotions, or disciplinary actions. For example, a supervisor assigning tasks based on job performance and business needs.

Cultural Differences: Actions or behaviors rooted in cultural norms that may be misunderstood but are not intended to be offensive. For example, a greeting or gesture that is customary in one culture but may seem strange or awkward in another.

Refusal of Unreasonable Requests: Declining a request that is not reasonable or within someone’s rights to refuse. For example, an employee refusing to work overtime that was not agreed upon in their contract.

Addressing Harassment: Communicating to someone that their behavior is harassing you, when it is true. This can help make the individual aware of the impact of their behavior, seek resolution, validate your experience, set boundaries, and follow legal or organizational procedures. For example, telling a coworker that their repeated comments about your appearance are making you uncomfortable and asking them to stop.

Now let's break down what does count as harassment:

Disinformation and Defamation of Character

Definition:

Disinformation: This refers to false information that is deliberately created and spread to deceive or mislead others. It’s often used to manipulate public opinion, discredit individuals, or cause confusion.

Slander: This involves making false spoken statements that damage someone’s reputation.

Libel: Libel is similar to slander but involves false statements made in a fixed medium, typically written or published online.

Defamation of Character: This is a broader term encompassing both slander and libel, referring to any false statement, whether spoken or written, that harms a person's reputation.

As Harassment:

Disinformation becomes harassment when it is used maliciously to harm an individual's reputation or cause them distress. This might involve spreading false rumors about someone’s actions or beliefs, or fabricating stories to discredit them.

Slander/Libel/Defamation become harassment when false statements are made with the intent to damage someone's character or standing in the community, leading to social, professional, or personal harm. This is particularly damaging when spread online, where false information can quickly reach a wide audience.

Examples:

Disinformation: A group creates and spreads a false narrative that a well-known activist has engaged in illegal activities, with the aim of discrediting their work and damaging their public image. The false information is shared widely across social media platforms, leading others to believe the activist is untrustworthy.

Slander: During a live podcast, a speaker falsely accuses a colleague of being involved in unethical business practices. Even though the accusation is baseless, listeners begin to question the colleague's integrity.

Libel: An online blog publishes an article falsely claiming that a local politician has been accepting bribes. The article spreads rapidly, causing the politician to face public scrutiny and potentially affecting their career.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: The victim may experience anxiety, stress, and a sense of powerlessness as their reputation is attacked. This can lead to mental health issues such as depression or anxiety disorders.

Social Isolation: As the false information spreads, the victim may find themselves ostracized by their community, friends, or professional network. They may be unfairly judged or treated differently by others who believe the falsehoods.

Professional Consequences: Defamation can result in job loss, damage to professional relationships, or loss of business opportunities, especially if the victim’s reputation is central to their work.

Financial Damage: The victim might incur legal costs in attempting to clear their name or experience a loss of income due to damaged reputation.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: In many jurisdictions, victims of defamation of character can pursue legal action against the perpetrator. They may sue for damages to compensate for the harm done to their reputation. However, these cases can be complex, requiring proof that the statements were false, made with malicious intent, and caused harm.

Platform Policies: Many social media platforms have guidelines against spreading false information and may take action by removing content or banning users who engage in such activities. However, enforcement can be inconsistent.

Ethical Implications: Even if legal action isn’t taken, spreading false information or engaging in defamation is ethically wrong and can have serious consequences for both the victim and society as a whole. It undermines trust in information sources and can contribute to a culture of misinformation and cynicism.

Disinformation and slander/libel can be deeply damaging, both personally and professionally, and are forms of harassment that are taken seriously both legally and ethically.

Amplifying Disinformation and Slander

Definition:

Amplifying Disinformation: This refers to the act of spreading or sharing deliberately false or misleading information created by someone else. It involves reblogging, retweeting, sharing posts, or forwarding messages that contain disinformation, even if the person amplifying it isn’t the original creator.

Amplifying Slander: This involves spreading spoken false statements about someone that are damaging to their reputation. It often occurs in social interactions, such as sharing gossip or rumors.

Amplifying Libel: This is similar to amplifying slander but involves sharing written or published false information that harms someone’s reputation. It typically occurs on social media, blogs, or other written formats.

As Harassment:

Amplifying Disinformation becomes harassment when it is done with malicious intent or reckless disregard for the truth. By spreading false information, individuals contribute to the harm caused to the victim, including damage to their reputation, emotional distress, and social or professional consequences.

Amplifying Slander/Libel becomes harassment when the person sharing the information knows it is false or harmful but continues to spread it, thereby further damaging the victim’s reputation and standing. Even if the person amplifying the content isn't the original source, they are still participating in and perpetuating the harm.

Examples:

Amplifying Disinformation: After seeing a tweet that deliberately spreads a false narrative about a political figure being involved in a criminal activity, a user retweets it with a comment that suggests they believe it, spreading the disinformation to their followers. The false claim quickly gains traction, causing the political figure significant public backlash.

Amplifying Slander: During a group chat, one person repeats a false rumor they heard about a coworker being unfaithful. Even though the rumor is baseless and was created with malicious intent, it quickly spreads through the workplace, damaging the coworker’s reputation and personal relationships.

Amplifying Libel: A person shares an article on their Facebook page that falsely accuses a local business owner of engaging in fraudulent activities. Although they didn’t write the article, their act of sharing it contributes to the spread of the disinformation, leading to a decline in the business owner’s customer base.

Impact on the Victim:

Increased Harm: The more widely disinformation or slander is shared, the more damage it can cause. As the false information reaches a larger audience, the victim may face increased social ostracization, professional setbacks, or emotional distress.

Difficulty in Correcting the Record: Once disinformation or slander is amplified, it can be challenging for the victim to correct the falsehoods. The spread of false information can take on a life of its own, making it hard for the truth to prevail.

Reputational Damage: The victim may suffer long-term harm to their personal and professional reputation, which can affect their relationships, career, and social standing.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Amplifying disinformation, slander, or libel can expose the person spreading the false information to legal liability, particularly if they knowingly shared it with the intent to cause harm. In some cases, they may be sued for defamation or held responsible for damages caused by the spread of false information.

Ethical Responsibility: Even if there is no legal liability, those who amplify false information have an ethical responsibility to verify the accuracy of what they share. Spreading disinformation or slander without regard for the truth is unethical and can contribute to a culture of harassment and mistrust.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms often have policies against the spread of disinformation and may take action against users who repeatedly amplify harmful content. This could include warnings, suspensions, or permanent bans.

Amplifying disinformation and slander is a serious issue that can cause significant harm to individuals and communities. Those who engage in this behavior, even if they aren’t the original creators of the content, play a crucial role in perpetuating the damage and may face legal and ethical consequences.

Cyberbullying

Definition:

Cyberbullying involves the use of digital platforms, such as social media, messaging apps, or online forums, to repeatedly target, intimidate, or belittle an individual. It is a form of bullying that occurs online and can include various forms of aggressive behavior.

As Harassment:

Cyberbullying becomes harassment when the behavior is intentional, repeated, and causes significant emotional distress or harm to the victim. It can involve sending threatening or abusive messages, spreading rumors, or using online platforms to isolate or degrade someone.

Examples:

Personal Attacks: A student repeatedly sends mean-spirited and threatening messages to a classmate through a messaging app. These messages include insults, threats of violence, and derogatory comments about the victim’s appearance and personal life.

Public Shaming: A group of people creates a social media page specifically to post embarrassing photos and make derogatory comments about an individual. The posts are shared widely, leading to public humiliation.

Spreading Rumors: An individual creates fake profiles to spread false and harmful rumors about someone, such as accusing them of dishonest or immoral behavior. This false information is shared across multiple platforms, damaging the victim’s reputation.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims of cyberbullying may experience feelings of anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem. The constant online attacks can lead to severe emotional distress and a sense of helplessness.

Social Isolation: The victim may withdraw from online and offline social interactions due to fear of further harassment. This isolation can lead to a decline in social support and relationships.

Academic and Professional Impact: For students, cyberbullying can lead to decreased academic performance and school avoidance. For adults, it can affect job performance and professional relationships.

Physical Effects: The stress and anxiety caused by cyberbullying can result in physical symptoms such as headaches, sleep disturbances, and a weakened immune system.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws specifically targeting cyberbullying. Legal actions can include restraining orders, criminal charges for harassment or threats, and civil lawsuits for damages. Laws vary by location, so the availability and extent of legal recourse depend on local regulations.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services often have policies against cyberbullying. Users who engage in such behavior may face account suspension, bans, or content removal. Reporting mechanisms are available for victims to report abusive behavior.

Ethical Implications: Cyberbullying is ethically unacceptable as it inflicts unnecessary harm and distress on individuals. It contributes to a toxic online environment and can have severe consequences for victims. Promoting respectful and positive online interactions is crucial for fostering a supportive digital community.

Cyberbullying is a serious issue with far-reaching effects on individuals’ mental health and well-being. Addressing it requires both legal action and ethical responsibility, with efforts focused on prevention, support for victims, and creating a safer online environment.

Doxxing

Definition:

Doxxing (or "doxing") is the act of publicly revealing or publishing private, sensitive, or personal information about an individual without their consent. This information might include details like home addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, and workplace locations. The term "doxx" originates from the word "documents," reflecting the sharing of documents or personal details.

As Harassment:

Doxxing becomes harassment when the intention is to harm, intimidate, or distress the individual whose information is being exposed. It can be used to provoke harassment from others, incite physical threats, or damage the victim's privacy and security.

Examples:

Public Exposure: An individual’s personal details, such as their home address and phone number, are posted on a public forum or social media site after a heated online argument. This leads to unwanted contact and harassment from strangers.

Threatening Behavior: An online user publishes sensitive information about a journalist who has been critical of certain groups. The journalist starts receiving threatening messages and is forced to take security precautions.

Intimidation Tactics: After a disagreement in a gaming community, a player’s real-life address and contact information are shared with the community, leading to in-person threats and harassment.

Impact on the Victim:

Safety and Security Risks: The victim may face threats of physical harm or stalking due to the exposure of their personal information. This can lead to a heightened sense of vulnerability and fear.

Emotional Distress: Victims often experience significant emotional stress, including anxiety, fear, and a sense of invasion of privacy. The knowledge that their personal information is publicly accessible can be deeply unsettling.

Social and Professional Consequences: The victim’s reputation can be damaged, leading to unwanted attention and negative interactions in their personal and professional life. They might experience social ostracism or job-related issues as a result of the doxxing.

Financial Impact: In extreme cases, victims may incur costs related to increased security measures, legal fees, or changes in their contact information.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions consider doxxing a criminal offense, particularly if it involves threats, harassment, or incitement to violence. Laws related to privacy, harassment, and cybercrime can be applied to address doxxing. Victims can often seek legal protection or file complaints with law enforcement.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services typically have policies against doxxing. They may take action such as removing the offending content, suspending accounts, or providing support to affected users. However, enforcement can vary.

Ethical Implications: Doxxing is ethically problematic as it involves a deliberate invasion of privacy and can lead to severe consequences for the victim. It violates principles of respect and confidentiality and contributes to a hostile online environment.

Doxxing represents a serious breach of privacy and security, with the potential for significant harm to individuals. Addressing doxxing requires both legal measures and a strong ethical commitment to protecting personal information and respecting others’ privacy.

Stalking

Definition:

Stalking involves persistent and unwanted attention or surveillance of an individual that causes them to feel fear or distress. It can occur through various means, including physical following, digital monitoring, or repeated harassment through communication channels. The intent is often to intimidate or control the victim.

As Harassment:

Stalking becomes harassment when it is done with the intent to cause emotional or psychological harm, invade the victim’s privacy, or exert control over their actions. The behavior is characterized by its repetitive nature and the fear it instills in the victim.

Examples:

Physical Stalking: An individual repeatedly shows up at the victim’s home or workplace, waits for them outside, or follows them in public places despite being asked to stop.

Digital Stalking: A person continually monitors the victim’s online activities, sends frequent and unwanted messages or emails, tracks their location through social media check-ins, and creates fake profiles to gain more access.

Harassing Communication: The stalker sends numerous threatening or intrusive messages, calls, or letters, making the victim feel unsafe and overwhelmed. This can include persistent contact despite clear requests to cease communication.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims often experience high levels of anxiety, fear, and paranoia. The constant sense of being watched or followed can lead to severe emotional trauma and mental health issues, such as depression or panic attacks.

Social Isolation: Victims may withdraw from social activities or change their routines to avoid the stalker. They might also feel compelled to move or alter their personal lives significantly to ensure their safety.

Professional Disruption: Stalking can interfere with the victim’s work life, leading to decreased productivity, job dissatisfaction, or even job loss if the stalking occurs at their workplace or affects their professional reputation.

Physical Safety: In severe cases, stalking can lead to physical threats or attacks, putting the victim's safety and well-being at risk. This may necessitate physical security measures or legal protections.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have specific laws against stalking, which can include criminal charges and restraining orders. These laws address both physical and digital stalking behaviors, providing legal avenues for victims to seek protection and hold perpetrators accountable.

Platform Policies: Social media platforms and online services often have policies against stalking and harassment. Victims can report stalking behavior to these platforms, which may take action such as banning the perpetrator or removing harmful content.

Ethical Implications: Stalking is ethically unacceptable as it infringes on an individual’s right to privacy and security. It represents a severe violation of personal boundaries and can cause lasting harm. Ethical behavior involves respecting others' personal space and ensuring that interactions remain consensual and respectful.

Stalking is a grave form of harassment that involves a persistent invasion of privacy and control over the victim’s life. Addressing it requires both legal intervention and ethical commitment to safeguarding individuals' personal safety and well-being.

Hate Speech

Definition:

Hate speech refers to any communication—whether verbal, written, or visual—that disparages or incites violence or hostility against an individual or group based on attributes such as race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It involves expressions that promote hatred or violence towards people based on these characteristics.

As Harassment:

Hate speech becomes harassment when it is used to target individuals or groups with the intent to demean, intimidate, or incite violence against them. It often creates a hostile environment and contributes to systemic discrimination and exclusion. The impact of hate speech can extend beyond the immediate target to affect entire communities.

Examples:

Social Media Posts: A user posts derogatory comments and slurs about a specific racial or religious group, encouraging others to join in and spread similar messages. These posts can lead to a climate of hostility and exclusion for members of the targeted group.

Online Forums: On a discussion board, members share and amplify content that advocates violence against LGBTQ+ individuals, including graphic threats and dehumanizing rhetoric. This can make LGBTQ+ users feel unsafe and unwelcome on the platform.

Hate Groups: Organized hate groups use websites and social media to recruit and spread propaganda that targets specific ethnic or religious groups. Their messages include misinformation, inflammatory statements, and calls for discriminatory actions.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Harm: Victims of hate speech often experience emotional and psychological distress, including feelings of fear, anxiety, and depression. They may feel dehumanized or marginalized.

Social Exclusion: Hate speech can lead to social ostracization and reduced participation in community or public activities. Victims may withdraw from online communities or public spaces to avoid hostility.

Physical Safety: In severe cases, hate speech can incite real-world violence or harassment against individuals or groups, leading to physical harm or threats. It can also contribute to a climate of fear and insecurity.

Community Impact: Hate speech can contribute to broader societal divisions and tensions, fostering environments where prejudice and discrimination are normalized.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: The legality of hate speech varies by jurisdiction. Some countries have specific laws that criminalize hate speech, while others protect freedom of speech more broadly, making legal action challenging. In regions with laws against hate speech, victims may have the option to report incidents to law enforcement or seek legal remedies.

Platform Policies: Many social media platforms have policies prohibiting hate speech and may take action by removing content, suspending accounts, or banning users who engage in such behavior. However, enforcement can be inconsistent, and some platforms may struggle to balance moderation with free speech considerations.

Ethical Implications: Hate speech is widely regarded as unethical because it promotes discrimination and intolerance. It undermines the principles of respect and equality, contributing to societal harm. Addressing hate speech requires a commitment to fostering inclusive and respectful communities, both online and offline.

Hate speech is a serious form of harassment with far-reaching effects on individuals and communities. Recognizing its impact and taking action to prevent and address it is crucial for promoting a more respectful and inclusive digital environment.

Trolling

Definition:

Trolling is the act of making deliberately provocative, offensive, or off-topic comments with the intention of eliciting strong emotional responses from others. It often involves disrupting conversations, creating conflicts, or stirring up controversy for amusement or to upset others.

As Harassment:

Trolling becomes harassment when the intent is to target specific individuals or groups with the purpose of causing emotional distress, confusion, or frustration. This involves consistently targeting someone with offensive or inflammatory comments, aiming to disrupt their online experience or provoke a reaction.

Examples:

Social Media Comments: A user repeatedly posts inflammatory or offensive comments on posts related to sensitive topics like mental health or personal identity. Their goal is to provoke arguments, upset the original poster, and attract attention to their own posts.

Forum Disruption: On an online forum focused on a specific hobby or interest, a troll deliberately posts off-topic or derogatory comments to derail discussions, causing frustration and confusion among regular members.

Live Stream Interference: During a live stream, a troll bombards the chat with spam, offensive messages, and provocative statements to distract the streamer and viewers, disrupting the content and conversation.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims may experience frustration, anger, and stress as a result of trolling. The constant need to address or ignore disruptive comments can be mentally exhausting.

Disruption of Conversations: Trolling can derail meaningful discussions and create a hostile environment, making it difficult for others to engage in productive or enjoyable conversations.

Reduced Participation: The presence of trolls can lead to decreased participation in online communities, as users may avoid engaging with platforms or topics where they have previously been targeted.

Psychological Impact: Persistent trolling can contribute to anxiety, depression, or feelings of helplessness, particularly if the troll’s comments are deeply personal or offensive.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: The legal response to trolling varies by jurisdiction and the nature of the trolling. While many forms of trolling do not constitute a criminal offense, behaviors that involve threats, harassment, or incitement to violence may be actionable under cybercrime or harassment laws.

Platform Policies: Most social media and online platforms have community guidelines that address trolling. They may take action such as removing offending content, suspending accounts, or banning users who engage in trolling behavior. Enforcement can vary, and some platforms struggle to effectively manage trolling.

Ethical Implications: Trolling is generally considered unethical because it aims to disrupt, harm, or manipulate others for personal amusement. It undermines respectful and constructive communication and can contribute to a negative online culture. Addressing trolling involves fostering a more respectful online environment and encouraging positive interactions.

Trolling is a form of online harassment that can have significant emotional and social impacts on individuals and communities. Recognizing and addressing trolling behavior is important for maintaining healthy and respectful online interactions.

Impersonation

Definition:

Impersonation involves creating or using a fake identity to deceive others into believing that you are someone else. This can include pretending to be a public figure, a private individual, or a professional entity. The goal is often to mislead or manipulate others for various purposes, including personal gain, harassment, or deception.

As Harassment:

Impersonation becomes harassment when it is used to target individuals with the intention of causing harm, spreading false information, or engaging in malicious activities. This might involve creating fake profiles or accounts to misrepresent someone or to exploit their identity for harmful purposes.

Examples:

Social Media Accounts: A user creates a fake social media profile pretending to be a well-known celebrity or public figure, using it to post misleading or harmful content that could damage the real person’s reputation.

Email Scams: An individual sends emails from an address that looks like it belongs to a trusted authority or organization (e.g., a company executive or a government official) to deceive recipients into providing sensitive information or making financial transactions.

Online Fraud: Someone impersonates a person in an online dating profile, using fake photos and personal details to manipulate or exploit other users emotionally or financially.

Impact on the Victim:

Reputation Damage: The victim may suffer from reputational harm if false or misleading information is spread using their identity, leading to confusion, mistrust, or negative perceptions among their audience or associates.

Emotional Distress: Being impersonated can lead to significant emotional distress, including anxiety, embarrassment, and frustration. The victim may feel violated and powerless, particularly if the impersonation is done in a malicious or humiliating way.

Professional Consequences: For public figures, professionals, or businesses, impersonation can lead to professional repercussions, including loss of business opportunities, legal issues, or damage to professional relationships.

Financial Impact: If impersonation involves fraud, the victim may suffer financial losses or be involved in lengthy and costly legal battles to address the situation.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws against impersonation, including identity theft, fraud, and misrepresentation. Victims may have legal avenues to pursue, such as filing complaints with law enforcement or taking civil action to seek damages. The specifics of legal recourse vary depending on local laws and the nature of the impersonation.

Platform Policies: Social media and online platforms often have policies against impersonation. They may take actions such as verifying identities, removing fake accounts, or suspending users who engage in impersonation. Effective enforcement of these policies can be challenging, especially given the scale of online interactions.

Ethical Implications: Impersonation is generally considered unethical because it involves deception and manipulation. It undermines trust and can have serious consequences for individuals and organizations. Ethical behavior online includes respecting others' identities and avoiding deceptive practices.

Impersonation can be a serious form of online harassment with far-reaching effects on both individuals and organizations. Addressing and preventing impersonation involves understanding its impacts, pursuing legal remedies when necessary, and fostering ethical online behavior.

Spamming

Definition:

Spamming refers to the repeated, unsolicited sending of messages or content, often with the intent to overwhelm, disrupt communication, or promote something, usually in a commercial context. It can occur through email, social media, messaging platforms, or other digital channels.

As Harassment:

Spamming becomes harassment when it is used to intentionally annoy, intimidate, or overwhelm an individual or organization. This might involve flooding someone's inbox with unwanted messages, bombarding a social media profile with repetitive or abusive comments, or inundating forums with irrelevant or harmful content. The goal is often to disrupt normal communication or to cause distress.

Examples:

Email Spamming: A user receives hundreds of unsolicited promotional emails, some of which contain malicious links or phishing attempts. The volume of spam clutters their inbox and makes it difficult to manage legitimate communications.

Social Media Spamming: An individual’s social media account is flooded with repetitive comments or messages from the same user or group. These comments might be abusive, irrelevant, or aimed at disrupting the user’s ability to engage with others on the platform.

Forum Spamming: A user continuously posts irrelevant or disruptive messages in online forums or discussion boards, often to derail conversations, promote products, or harass other users.

Impact on the Victim:

Overwhelm and Stress: The victim may feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of messages or content, leading to stress and frustration. Managing or filtering through spam can be time-consuming and mentally taxing.

Disruption of Communication: Spam can disrupt normal communication, making it difficult for the victim to focus on important messages or tasks. It can also crowd out legitimate content or conversations, reducing the effectiveness of communication platforms.

Privacy and Security Risks: Some spam messages may contain malicious links or attachments that can compromise the victim’s privacy or security, leading to potential data breaches or identity theft.

Financial Impact: For businesses, spamming can lead to loss of productivity, increased costs related to managing or mitigating spam, and potential damage to their reputation if customers are affected.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws against spamming, especially when it involves malicious intent or financial fraud. For instance, the CAN-SPAM Act in the U.S. regulates commercial email and provides guidelines for managing spam. Victims of spam may also seek legal remedies for damages or file complaints with relevant authorities.

Platform Policies: Most digital platforms and services have policies against spamming. Violations can result in penalties such as account suspension, banning, or removal of the offending content.

Ethical Implications: Spamming is considered unethical as it disregards the recipient’s consent and aims to exploit or harass individuals. It disrupts normal communication practices and can contribute to a negative online experience for users.

Spamming, when used maliciously, can have significant negative impacts on individuals and organizations, and is addressed by legal frameworks and platform policies to protect users and maintain the integrity of digital communication.

Making Threats

Definition:

Threats to Harm Others: These are statements or actions that express an intention to cause physical harm or violence to another person. These threats can be explicit (directly stating the intention to harm) or implicit (suggesting harm or intimidation).

Threats to Harm Oneself: These are statements or actions that express a desire or intention to self-harm or commit suicide. Such threats may be made in distressing contexts and can indicate serious emotional or psychological issues.

As Harassment:

Threats to Harm Others: When threats are made to harm others, they can be a form of harassment if the intent is to intimidate, control, or manipulate the target. This can involve direct threats or veiled warnings intended to cause fear or distress. The impact can be significant, causing emotional and psychological trauma, and creating a sense of insecurity or danger for the victim.

Threats to Harm Oneself: Threats of self-harm can also be a form of harassment if they are used manipulatively or to provoke a response from others. In some cases, individuals may use threats of self-harm to exert control or to gain attention, which can create distress and concern among those who are aware of the threats.

Examples:

Threats to Harm Others:

Direct Threat: A user posts a message on social media stating, "I will come to your house and hurt you if you don’t stop talking about me." This explicit threat aims to intimidate the recipient.

Implicit Threat: An individual leaves a comment on a public forum suggesting, "People like you should be careful about what they say," followed by a vague reference to "consequences." This implies potential harm without explicit details.

Threats to Harm Oneself:

Direct Threat: A user posts on a social media platform saying, "I’m going to end my life tonight. I don’t see any way out." This expresses a clear intention to self-harm.

Implicit Threat: An individual frequently posts messages or updates about feeling hopeless and discusses self-destructive thoughts without explicitly stating their intent to self-harm, but hinting at severe distress.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional and Psychological Trauma: For threats to harm others, victims may experience fear, anxiety, and a sense of vulnerability. The threat of violence can lead to psychological stress and trauma.

Behavioral Changes: Victims of threats may change their behavior to avoid potential harm, such as avoiding certain places or people, or taking additional precautions for their safety.

Distress and Concern: For threats of self-harm, friends, family, and others may experience significant emotional distress and concern, feeling helpless or anxious about the individual’s well-being.

Intervention and Support: Threats of self-harm often prompt intervention from mental health professionals or emergency services, which can be disruptive and may lead to involuntary treatment or hospitalization for the individual making the threats.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse:

Threats to Harm Others: Making threats of violence can be illegal in many jurisdictions. Victims can report these threats to law enforcement, who may investigate and take legal action if necessary. Criminal charges can be brought against individuals making credible threats of harm.

Threats to Harm Oneself: While threats of self-harm are not typically illegal, they often prompt intervention by mental health professionals and emergency services to ensure the individual’s safety. In some cases, these threats may lead to involuntary hospitalization or treatment if the person is deemed a danger to themselves.

Platform Policies: Many online platforms have policies against threats of violence and self-harm. Content that violates these policies may be removed, and users making such threats may be banned or suspended. Platforms often have mechanisms for reporting and addressing these issues.

Ethical Implications: Both types of threats raise serious ethical concerns. Making threats to harm others is fundamentally unethical and can have legal consequences. Threats of self-harm require sensitive handling, as they indicate significant distress and necessitate a compassionate response to address the underlying issues and provide appropriate support.

Threats, whether directed towards others or oneself, are serious and can have profound impacts on all involved. They are addressed through legal channels, platform policies, and ethical guidelines to protect individuals and provide necessary support.

Sexual Harassment

Definition:

Sexual Harassment: This is unwanted and unwelcome behavior of a sexual nature that creates a hostile or intimidating environment. It can occur in various forms, including physical, verbal, or non-verbal conduct. Sexual harassment is often characterized by a power imbalance and can occur in both professional and personal contexts.

As Harassment:

Sexual Harassment becomes harassment when it involves making someone feel uncomfortable, threatened, or demeaned through sexual advances, comments, or behavior. This includes behavior that interferes with the victim’s ability to participate in work or social environments and can create an atmosphere of intimidation or hostility.

Examples:

Verbal Harassment: Making inappropriate or suggestive comments, jokes, or propositions about someone's body or sexual activities. For instance, repeatedly commenting on a colleague’s appearance or making unwelcome advances.

Physical Harassment: Unwanted physical contact, such as touching, groping, or brushing up against someone in a manner that makes them uncomfortable. This can also include gestures or displays of sexually explicit material.

Non-Verbal Harassment: Sending sexually suggestive messages, images, or using body language that implies sexual interest or intent. This includes persistent staring or creating an atmosphere with sexually explicit material.

Online Harassment: Sending unsolicited explicit messages or images through social media, email, or messaging platforms. This can also involve tagging someone in inappropriate content or making unwanted advances through digital communication.

Impact on the Victim:

Emotional Distress: Victims may experience a range of emotional responses, including anxiety, depression, and fear. The harassment can lead to a diminished sense of safety and self-worth.

Professional Consequences: In a workplace setting, sexual harassment can affect job performance, career progression, and workplace relationships. Victims may face challenges in their professional environment, such as being passed over for promotions or experiencing isolation from colleagues.

Social and Personal Impact: Harassment can lead to a loss of confidence, social withdrawal, and strained personal relationships. Victims might avoid certain places or situations to escape harassment or its reminders.

Physical Health: The stress and emotional impact of harassment can manifest physically, leading to issues such as sleep disturbances, headaches, or other stress-related health problems.

Legal and Ethical Considerations:

Legal Recourse: Many jurisdictions have laws and regulations against sexual harassment. Victims may have legal avenues to pursue claims, such as filing complaints with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) in the U.S. or similar bodies in other countries. Legal action can result in compensation for damages, changes in workplace policies, or other remedies.

Platform Policies: Online platforms and workplaces typically have policies prohibiting sexual harassment. Violations can lead to account suspension, removal of content, or disciplinary actions against offenders. Reporting mechanisms are often available to address harassment claims.

Ethical Implications: Sexual harassment is a severe violation of ethical standards and personal boundaries. It undermines the dignity and rights of individuals and perpetuates a culture of inequality and fear. Ethical responses involve creating safe and respectful environments, actively addressing and preventing harassment, and supporting victims.

Sexual harassment is a serious issue with significant legal, ethical, and personal implications. Addressing it effectively requires a combination of legal action, supportive policies, and a commitment to creating respectful and safe environments for all individuals.

Understanding and addressing online harassment is crucial for fostering a safer and more respectful digital environment. From the deliberate spread of disinformation and defamation to the invasive impact of spamming and threats, each form of harassment has its own set of consequences that can deeply affect individuals and communities. Sexual harassment, in particular, represents a severe violation of personal dignity and can lead to significant emotional and professional harm.

By recognizing the different manifestations of harassment, from slander and libel to online threats and unwanted sexual advances, we can better equip ourselves to combat these issues effectively. Legal frameworks, platform policies, and ethical practices all play essential roles in addressing and mitigating harassment.

It is our collective responsibility to create and maintain environments—both online and offline—where individuals feel safe, respected, and heard. By staying informed, supporting victims, and holding perpetrators accountable, we can contribute to a more just and compassionate society. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, and it is up to all of us to uphold these values in every interaction.

[arkhampsych]

@ecopoison | 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

“ I’m more concerned about surviving. ” Their world was on the threshold of ruin. If the means to cure or reverse the infection’s decomposition of the mind existed, few would be as qualified to unearth and distribute it as they.

𝘐𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 … conjecture following the sudden loss of connection with a sister - city, and a few isolated cases in which gothamites attacked each other with a special ruthlessness. not your typical mugging. rather, an unwarranted mutilation set in the middle of an intersection. Press gave the story little notice until the victim turned their torn mouth against a nurse, savagely fraying their nose and eyelids with stained teeth until the medical employee ceased to scream. After that incident, coverage on increasing attacks spread — 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦.

For weeks, Crane ignored the few reports — or rumors, that reached him. He was focused on his work. Research and experimentation taxed him of all spare energy. He hadn’t the time, nor the patience, to pay attention to the progression of a frenzy that would likely resolve itself. It wasn’t until a driver failed to meet him after an appointment he’d kept with another one of his criminal connections, that fate urged him to concern himself with mankind’s expedient regression into 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. No matter how far he walked, he couldn’t find a single cab or car. The streets were silent, 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵. He stared up at a ray of light drifting through slow, shear, clouds — a signal pleading an intervention of Gotham’s signature chaos.

From where he stood, it was difficult to imagine where such assistance might be needed. There was no one in sight, no indication of the usual felonies that trespassed corrupted side streets. Though Crane found this far from peaceful. He likened the lack of activity to 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. Shadows settling by street corners and behind trash cans smirked as though they knew something he didn’t. The darkness had fallen mute to conceal some secret, and he was eager to leave before it revealed itself.

In retrospect, the smashed screens he passed making his way to a lower Subway terminal should have raised an alarm. Crane ignored shattered glass littering the concrete floor, as well as the occasional spark that lept from a discolored add, buffering on a digital display. He was pre - occupied with his thoughts, trying to compute a less exhausting balance between his life during the day and night. In an ideal world, the few solutions that distracted him as he stood on a yellow platform would be more than a fantasy of a full night of sleep.

11 : 57 … 11 : 59 … 12 : 00 … 12 : 01 … 12 :02, 12 : 03, 12 : 04 — Crane furrowed his brow as his wristwatch’s silver hand ticked towards 12 : 05. He stepped towards the edge of the platform, peering inquisitively down a vacant rail. 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. He turned back towards the stairs, preparing to exit the platform. A security guard stood at the top of the steps, Crane stopped. He watched as they slowly turned towards him, revealing their left arm.

Blue cotton clung to their injured limb, blood rendered the fabric’s frayed tendrils slightly purple, where it stuck to deep lesions separating their dark flesh. As they stepped forward, 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘪𝘥 dripped from their arm and onto the stairs. An intensity in their eyes prompted Crane to retreat. He backed away from the steps, slowly reaching into his coat. It was easy to see how 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 this individual was towards bloodlust. He’d barely pulled on his mask before they lunged down the steps and swung at him with mangled fingers. He thrust his wrist forward, emitting a cloud of toxin large enough to engulf the two. The maniac fastened its claws around his sleeve and watch. Crane kicked them away, recoiling as silver pieces of the time - telling piece clattered against the floor. The Doctor’s blue eyes widened behind his mask, as he realized with horror : 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

He had his mind. He could adapt. But between the two of them, Crane was well aware Isley was pre - disposed towards survival by ability alone. Fear had no effect on these things. Scarecrow was more a mask than entity. Though society’s collapse enabled him to show his true face at liberty, his own power had dissolved.

However, through aptitude The Doctor could attain more than the value of his life … by finding a cure, he could elect which of those to inoculate, and which of those he’d allow the virus to ruin. “ if it’s a cure you want, I know a place where we can find a wealth of live subjects. ” he enunciated while walking deeper into the tunnel, “ inmates. ”

[quicksilversquared]

Superhero Salary

It all started with a joke. It ended with Ladybug and Chat Noir finally getting some of the compensation that they deserved.

After all, fame isn't going to pay the bills.

links in the reblog

It all started with a (mostly) joking comment from Chat Noir, blurted out in a moment of frustration.

"I hate it when that happens," he had grumbled after Ladybug knocked him free from the akuma's control. "Stupid, stupid mind-control akumas. Tell Hawkmoth that if he's going to insist on akumas like that, he's gonna have to pay for my therapy after this is all over!" he hollered after the akuma, who was clearly hopping mad about no longer having a superhero under his control. "A superhero salary doesn't exactly pay enough for it!"

He had been kidding, at least mostly. Kidding or not, though, the complaint was out there.

The moment had been picked up by the Ladyblog, of course, just as part of the bigger fight. But it wasn't long before it absolutely exploded over the internet.

Sure, maybe in comic books it was implied that superheroes always worked for free. But was that really fair? After all, Ladybug and Chat Noir were providing a service to the city. They were taking the time out of their normal lives to save Paris and put things back to rights, and they were doing it often. They had to come out whenever Hawkmoth sent out an akuma, not just when they had a spare bit of time that they could use to fight crime. Just like policemen and firefighters, they were putting themselves in danger by fighting on the front line. And if they were in jobs, or were in school- well, having to duck out regularly had to be affecting them, and not in a positive way.

If they had jobs, they could very well be on the edge of losing them because of all of the times they went missing. Even if they were self-employed- well, then they would still be losing out on some serious work time and having to work late into the night instead. And if they were in school...

Then they would be in danger of falling behind and need help to keep on top of their schoolwork. Tutors and online courses both cost money.

And on top of all of that, there was superhero merchandise being made using their colors and images, clothes and dolls and souvenirs and toys. Surely they should be getting a cut of the profit from that.

With only a few exceptions, Paris was soon in agreement: their superheroes needed to be earning a salary.

Marinette wasn't quite certain what to think of it all.

"Tikki, what do I say if the mayor decides to give us a salary?" she implored, slumping back in her chair. "I mean, even if it would be possible to safely get the money, I just don't know."

Part of her wanted to do the noble thing and say no to a salary. After all, she was Ladybug because she wanted to help! Plus, would public perception of them change if they were technically city employees? The mayor might think that he had the power to call them up on command, which would really stink.

But- well, Marinette was a teenager, and no sane teenager would turn down money, particularly when it was money for work that she had done. Even though she wasn't exactly struggling- she got an allowance, plus money from babysitting Manon and of course commission money, and besides she was a teenager and not an adult with a million living expenses- having more money in her account for fabric or design classes or her future career wasn't a bad thing.

"Well, Plagg and I could certainly set things up so that all of the money you get would be funneled through us and our magic," Tikki told her. "And we would be careful about not matching up the amounts or making them regular! There's ways that we can do it without attracting attention."

Marinette nodded. That was one question answered, but the other?

"As for if you should take the money..." Tikki considered that. "I mean, there's a lot to consider. But I'd like to point out that you don't know how long you'll be fighting Hawkmoth, or if there'll be any other threats after he's gone to deal with. That could interfere with you having a regular job. And if the akuma attacks keep disrupting your school day and you need to hire a tutor to help you keep up but you don't want your parents knowing, having the extra money could help. Or if you decide to sign up for an online school so that you can look up lessons that you missed in class, you could pay for that! But people might have strong opinions about superheroes taking money, too."

"That's a lot of positives and only one negative," Marinette pointed out. "I mean, it could be annoying to listen to people judging, but unless they're in the majority..."

Either way, it was going to be disheartening to hear people judging her for taking the money. But as long as they weren't in her face or spreading lies about her and Chat Noir now not being motivated to take down Hawkmoth because that would mean an end to the money or something ridiculous like that, she could probably ignore it. Maybe she could make some donations with the money she was getting to dispel those rumors.

Honestly, she'd probably do that anyway. There were so many organizations and people in need in Paris, and if Marinette was earning money then of course she would want to support them.

Of course, that all depended on if the officials even offered the salary in the first place, which was honestly looking really likely. It looked like public opinion was strongly in their favor, and the mayor was seriously easily waived by public opinion most of the time. And anything to do with the superheroes- well, it was publicity gold.

And in the end, it only took a week of deliberations- entirely about how much Ladybug and Chat Noir should be making, and puzzling out how much of the profit from sales of their merchandise they should be getting on top of their salary- before the announcement went out that the superheroes would be offered payment. A day after that, Ladybug and Chat Noir accepted their salary and gave the city's head payroll officer the information their kwamis had given them for the kwami bank accounts, so that they could get their paychecks without risking their secret identities.

"I didn't expect things to blow up like this when I said that, about not earning enough for therapy," Chat Noir admitted after they had left. He had seemed put-together and confident when they were in the office- which Ladybug had appreciated, because the sums that were being discussed were absolutely intimidating and having Chat Noir being so confident next to her helped her not get flustered. "I mean, yeah, down the road, I wouldn't be surprised if I get nightmares about fighting all the time and need to get help with that, but- well, I don't think I'd be able to, not unless I sign up as Chat Noir instead of my civilian self. And I don't know if I would necessarily want to do that, in case too much civilian stuff comes out."

Ladybug winced. Yeah, that was a real concern. And- well, she didn't ever admit it to anyone other than Tikki, but she sometimes had nightmares about the fights, too. And Chat Noir was right- a therapist could probably help.

But the identity concerns...

It was more than likely that some personal information would come out if they were talking to any sort of therapist, and that was dangerous. Maybe the chance of their therapists stumbling on their identities was low, but she still couldn't risk it.

Maybe they could go out of Paris to find someone, using the Horse to jump. Then their therapist would be even less likely to make the connection between Ladybug and Marinette, and with the distance from Paris, having the superheroes in their office might be less exciting than it would be for someone who saw the superheroes on a daily basis. But even that wouldn't really be a possibility until Hawkmoth was gone, when they actually got some semblance of free time back.

"I can't deny that the money could be helpful, though," Chat Noir added after a moment. "I mean, depending on how long the conflict drags on, or if we need anything that Tikki and Plagg can't provide to help us, or- well, when I get old enough to move out of my father's place, I want to. There's way too many people who think that they can just barge into my room without warning and poke around, and- well, it's not safe."

Ladybug glanced over at her partner again. He looked like he was her age- in fact, they had shared enough information inadvertently that she was positive that they were probably a year apart at most- which meant that he was facing years of people disregarding his privacy and potentially discovering his secret. "That's ages away, though."

"I know. I can't do much about it right now, though, besides just paying attention to where I'm detransforming." Chat Noir sighed. "I guess the money can't really help with that, not right now."

"Yeah. And that's not great." Ladybug tapped a rhythm against her leg, trying to come up with a solution and finding none. She just didn't have enough information about the situation to find places where they could do something. "I mean, the most I can come up with is a camera that you could connect to and move around to see if anyone is in there before going back in. And you could see if anyone is coming around and poking around that you don't know about. But- well, the problem is that cameras can be hard to hide, and if your father finds out and decides to review footage..."

"It could backfire on me, really fast." Chat Noir glanced around, then back at her. "Yeah, I know. I guess- well, for now, I won't change anything. Maybe something will come up in the future."

"Yeah, I'm not going to be changing much either, I think. But it's nice to have that money there in case I need it." It made her feel a little weird, honestly- after over a year of volunteer superheroing, accepting money for that was just strange- but maybe eventually, it would sink in that she was doing a job and deserved pay for it.

Chat Noir nodded. "Just in case. And, well- if we don't use it, it'll be a good start for my retirement account!"

Ladybug laughed at that, the awkwardness and concerns that she had had earlier flying away in an instant. "Teenagers with retirement accounts. Who would have thought?"

"Well, you can never be too prepared, right?"

Ladybug giggled again, imaging the looks on her parents' places if she sat down for dinner and started asking questions about retirement accounts and for their advice in setting one up. Maybe it wouldn't be completely out of left field- after all, unlike most of her classmates, Marinette did earn money with commissions, and enough that she would not be spending it all- but it was also a strange thing for a teenager to ask about.

Well. At least it wasn't a bad problem to have.

  A week later, Ladybug and Chat Noir officially received their first paychecks, with back payments pending. And by that time, the two of them had figured out where those payments were going.

Most of the money, of course, would be held in the kwami bank accounts until it could be trickled into their civilian bank accounts. How much, exactly, could be deposited without being noticed was still being decided- Ladybug could definitely get away with more than Chat Noir, though she figured that varying amounts and not at regular intervals would stick out less than regular payments. They were still trying to figure out how they might get retirement accounts going- even as much as they joked, it wasn't exactly a bad idea.

And then part of the money would go to charity. It was just a nice thing to do, after all, and since they had spare money- well, it would just be a good idea to help out a little bit more. They didn't want to make too big of a deal out of their donations, since it was very possible that people would judge where they were donating, how much they were donating, how often they were making their donations, and how their donations did or didn't change over time. There would no doubt be people petitioning the superheroes to support their favorite charities, which- well, maybe it would be a good way to learn about new causes, but it sounded like more stress than it would be worth. Besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir were private citizens behind the mask, and they deserved to have some privacy about their finances.

All they needed to tell the public was that they were donating anonymously and wouldn't be disclosing the places or amounts for those reasons. It was a simple answer, and should satisfy most of the population. There would no doubt be a few naysayers- there almost always were a few people who just had to be difficult- but it was a reasonable answer.

Thankfully, the person who had interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about what they were going to do with their first paychecks- a kind man from a mid-sized newspaper, who had earned the spot of first interview entirely because he hadn't been pushy about asking- had thought that their reasoning was plenty sound. They were hardly going to be millionaires, and so expecting them to donate large amounts on a regular (and frequent) basis was completely ridiculous. Keeping things private- well, that meant that people who were out of touch wouldn't be moaning about donations that they were perceiving as too small.

Just because Ladybug and Chat Noir were famous didn't mean that they were rich.

Marinette hummed quietly to herself as she skimmed the article that the reporter they had talked to had written. While the interview itself had taken place several days prior, the article had just been released that morning to coincide with both their first payment and the start of the month. It was very nicely written, and framed their reasoning in an even more clear and articulate light than they had managed themselves. She didn't doubt that it would get noticed soon, and then the speculation about whether or not Ladybug and Chat Noir would donate some of their earnings would be put to rest for once and for all-

"Wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't donating any of their salary? That's so unlike them!"

-or maybe not.

"I was surprised too, they just completely brushed me off when I suggested that they donate part of their salaries," Lila told her audience as they swept into the room as a- well, as a flock, really, that was the only way to describe it. "It's what I would do if I was a superhero, of course, so I thought that they would feel the same! It's such a let-down, I really thought that they were better than that..."

"I would say that maybe it's because they've donated so much of their time to the city already, but I know I heard something at some point about backpayments to cover their time from the start," Alya commented, her eyebrows furrowed. "So that's not really donated time anymore, is it?"

"Maybe they have bills to pay," Rose piped up, clearly ever-hopeful. "And they need to get caught up with that first, of course. That would make sense!"

Of course, Lila was shaking her head as she headed up to her seat, with the rest of the group following not far behind to keep listening. "They're too young for bills. I met up with them again this morning and was trying to talk some sense into them because really, they could just do small donations, even a little bit helps- I would know, I've seen how far money can stretch and help in a charity! But even now that they have the money in their hands, they just want to keep it."

There were murmurs of disappointment all around the group gathered around Lila at that. Even though donations clearly weren't mandatory- well, they thought that the superheroes should be better role models than that! If they didn't have bills to pay, surely...

"And it's not like they're not getting enough to have both spending money and do a little charity," Lila said, shaking her head sadly. "Plenty of spending money, even! And I pointed that out, but they got really upset with me. I'd hate for our friendship to be destroyed over this really, but it's just- I feel like I don't know them at all now!"

Frankly, Marinette had heard enough. She wasn't going to let her reputation as Ladybug- or Chat Noir's reputation- get slandered by Lila's nonsense.

"Funny thing," Marinette commented in the most deadpan, disinterested voice that she could muster, not even taking her eyes off of her tablet as she talked. "You say that you met up with the superheroes this morning and they weren't interested in doing donations, and yet there's an article in La Trib this morning about an interview they did with the superheroes days ago that say otherwise. It says that donating was in their plan from the start."

The group in the back of the room went quiet.

"Marinette is correct," Markov commented after a moment, breaking the silence. "The article was posted one hour ago, though the paper copy presumably went out earlier. The superheroes stated that they have been looking at charities since they first heard that they might be getting money for their superhero work, as they wish to continue to help Paris. Their donations will be anonymous and private to protect their privacy and to prevent unwanted commentary on their choices."

Marinette glanced back. All eyes were slowly turning from Markov to Lila.

"There is also a video of the interview linked on the online version of the article," Markov added. "And the metadata confirms that it was filmed several days ago."

Several of the eyes pointed towards Lila were getting narrowed and suspicious.

"Oh, that- that's lovely!" Lila exclaimed, somewhat belatedly pressing her hand over her heart. "Maybe they were just trying to wind me up to tease me, then! And I misread the situation and took them seriously. Or they were trying to give me a pleasant surprise! It happens, sometimes- I'm not always great at catching sarcasm-"

This time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.

Smiling to herself, Marinette looked back at her tablet, closing out of the article and opening up their reading for Literature so that she could review it- or, well, finish reading it, because an akuma had interrupted her the previous night and it had been too late to pick it up again once the fight was over. If she hurried, she might be able to finish it before Ms. Bustier called for a start to class, and then she wouldn't get in trouble again for not doing her homework.

Honestly, if Lila's track record was anything to go by, she would probably wriggle her way out of the lie by the afternoon and the whole incident would be forgotten. But maybe this time would end up different- after all, Marinette had never seen that doubt before- and Lila's tower of lies would finally come toppling down. It was long overdue, really, but Marinette wasn't going to hold her breath.

If it happened...well, if their superhero salary was like a surprise cake, then a Lila downfall would be the cherry on top.

[katsukikitten]

2!

Lol here have this I have no idea what I'm doing with this. Hope yall can't tell.

You clenched your teeth, watching as the Avatar waltz through to the sitting room on his own accord. No servant attendant as he stared Zuko down.  

The Avatar looked...different from what you remembered or what had been described to you.  He had filled out some, broad muscles swept in golden colors with a heavily beaded wooden necklace with the air symbol carved into it. As if the world needed a reminder that he was the last air bender. You fight to roll your eyes as the roam over his bald head, blue tattoo vibrant in the cast of the afternoon son while his beard was as dark as rich upturned Earth. 

"So what do I owe the pleasure of having the honored Avatar as my guest?" Zuko's voice comes out gruff, golden eyes narrowed onto the bald man. 

The Avatar returns the glare, his brown eyes reminding you of frozen Earth in the darkest winter. 

The tension between the two is tangiable enough that you can taste it.  The fresh breeze being summoned and the wood starting to char beneath Zuko's feet. The Firelord begins to shift his weight for an offensive attack putting you on edge. 

The Avatar mirrors the action and both set off a powerful blast of Fire and Air. Just as you're about to move to counter attack the two men burst into a fit of laughter. 

"It's been too long, Zuko!" They step into a tight hug separating in time for tea.

"Way too long Aang." Zuko sits on one of the many cushions that lie around the room, broad hand gesturing for the Avatar to follow suit. The young servant sets the tea on the low table between them, Zuko observes the set up with a harsh glare. 

"Why are there only three cups?" A tone above a bite causing your stomach to twist. Your teeth sink into your tongue to keep your temper in check, agitated that the man never seems satisfied.

"Uh, your Highness forgive me. I am still new and I assumed you'd serve yourself and your two guests." Her voice trembles as she presses her forehead to the ground, hard enough you were sure the wooden grains would dimple her forehead. On the verge of snapping you step towards the tea more than ready to douse his arrogant flames. Nostrils flaring as you watch him berate her but then your heart catches in your chest when you hear him speak. 

"Daiyu..." His voice is soft as he touches her forearm, "You must always remember your own cup, tea was made to be enjoyed in company." 

The girl looks up, bewildered. 

"Y...your fierceness I…" She clutches at the green silk ribbon that adorns her wrist. Crackling and smoothing the fabric as she tries to refute without really refusing. It's obvious she's a fresh servant from the Earth kingdom. You had noticed that majority of Zuko's helping hands were a modge podge of former refugees from all across the lands. 

"It is fine. You may have my cup." He pours her tea first, earning a blush as he presents it to her. 

And with a smile no less. 

Your heart summersolts in your chest, thumping with questions and anger, all unnoticed to the small party. 

It is true you had observed the Firelord over the last six months, most of it arguments and fights between the two of you.  You thought you had him pegged as a bitter Prince with daddy issues and an absentee mother. 

But you were starting to question if you had observed closely enough. When she does not take the tea his molten eyes flash an emotion you've never see before. 

"You may take it with you back to the kitchen if you think it is against etiquette." He leaves the nature of their relationship unspoken and finally she bows deeply before reaching for the tea. 

"Thank you Firelord Zuko." She bows again with tea in hand before exiting the room, softly shutting the sliding door behind her. 

Aang chuckles as deft hands pour the other two cups. The Avatar holds onto his tea with a smile, looking after where the young woman stood.  

"They still aren't used to a kind Firelord are they?" He takes a small sip as Zuko offers you your tea. You glare at the light green liquid, staring down your own reflection before he half growls in frustration. 

"At least sit." He gestures to a pillow beside him to which you plop down on ungracefully after a moment or two. Brown eyes watch you with undying curiosity while golden ones bore holes into your skin. 

"I want them to feel more like employees than servants." He address Aang's previous question, "How is Katara?" 

A dip in his tone that has your brows furrowed as Aang's voice carries throughout the room. 

"Happy and busy as ever especially with two kids." He smiles hard enough he is forced to close his eyes, "And you and Mai?" 

A small silence before Zuko chooses to speak the truth. 

"We...have chosen separate paths." 

"Ah I'm…." A heated hand stops the avatar from speaking. It is clear that Zuko does not want his old friend's pity but it is left unspoken. Instead he shifts their focus back on Aang. 

"What of Sokka and Suki? And my best friend Toph?" The scowl is quickly replaced with a gentle smile that spreads across his lips, leaving you bewildered. You had figured he was all angst and rigid but you figured even coins had two sides. 

"They are well. We should camp. For old times sake."

"Maybe I'll chase you around for an hour or two." They share another hearty laugh before a flip is switched and Zuko returns to all of adjectives you're familiar with. 

Stern.

Serious.

Calculating. 

Not...not smiles

And surely not kindness. 

A grin washes over your features as you realize his softness can last only so long, you bring the green tea to your lips. Refreshing satisfaction washes over your tongue.

"What really brings you here Aang?" His stature no longer vulnerable, his spine straight and those broad shoulders snapped back. Aang sighs, having wanted more of his friend than his ally today. 

"It is your sister. Azula." The tea cup in your hand threatens to snap from that name alone. Rage seeps into every fiber of your being, into your bones as you grit your teeth to keep from speaking. 

You needed to hear what was next. 

"She's finally been spotted." Steam escapes Zuko's nose for a long moment. When he opens his eyes again it is as if the brewing storm calmed. Head level and clear as he speaks. 

"It's time she came home." 

But you see the fresh steam billowing from the spout of the tea pot. A defiant smile forms on your lips as you watch the hairline crack in the ceramic form before your eyes. 

It's time you tested how well he could keep his temper under control with a guest. 

"Bring her home?" You ask, golden eyes snap to you. Your infernal voice one of the few things left on his Earth that got under his skin. 

"Surly you don't mean here." You set your tea down, heat radiates from his toned body all the way through his thick robes dancing along your exposed skin.  A shiver runs down your spine from the hint of a fight. 

"I think you mean a rehabilitation center. If you missed being called Zuzu so much. I would be more than happy to oblige." A purr leaves your plump lips as his eyebrow tics in tandem with his sharp jawline. 

Aang is left to watch the scene unfold with inquisitive eyes, not yet having the pleasure of meeting your acquaintance. 

"Uh Zuko who is this exactly?" You glare at the Avatar as the Firelord's heat slowly dies down.  

"My name is too difficult for your tongue. I hail from a much different land." You roll your eyes as you sink into the silky pillow. Another glare sent your way as his eyes seem to scream murder. 

"My uncle called her Lost Dragon. She answers to that or Jasmine. He tried to name her after his favorite tea." Amber pools soften at the the thought until he remembers who it's about, "Mostly I say you." 

"In that irritated tone too?" Aang chuckles and Zuko nods. 

"Well I must confess. This is very much…..you." He looks you over before holding eye contact with Zuko, "You may have found your FireLady." 

You snap up from your lying position ready to throw daggers his way but the tea pot explodes instead. Aang guides the boiling tea into his empty cup laughing as he's clearly struck a nerve. 

"I would never." His voice dips so low and so dark it almost stops Aang from relishing in his now rare moment of igniting Zuko's ire. 

The tone does not sit well with you causing you to send an icy glare his way.

"Whatever you say hotman." Fire erupts from Zuko's shoulders. 

"Don't call me that!" An infectious laugh rings out before Aang retorts. 

"Whatever you say hotman." He covers his mouth before he takes another sip of tea, "In all seriousness those sightings of your sister are rumors for now. But I wanted to tell you in person first." 

Aang sets down his cup and stands, looking Zuko in his eyes. He offers a smile that the firelord returns.

"Another day?" Aang asks. 

"Hopefully sooner rather than later. And for pleasure instead for business." 

They bow to one another fist in hand before the Avatar slips out of the door. 

Zuko turns to you stepping almost too quickly as he breathes life into a powerful blast that you dismiss with your own fire. 

You both stare one another down for countless minutes before Daiyu slides open the door  The hairs on the nape of her neck stand straight up as she feels the exuding power seeping from the two bodies in the room. She is not quick enough to slide it back shut like she wishes. Neither breaks eye contact even as she struggles to get her message out. 

"F..Firelord Zuko, your bath is ready." Another moment passes before he sighs heavily. Steam filling the room until neither can see the other. 

"Thank you Daiyu. I shall retire for now." A threat lingers in his voice as you hear him exit the room. 

You grit your teeth as your body carries you back out to the large tree in the garden where you've been sleeping. Refusing to sleep in the house of your enemy. You slam your knife into the bark of the tree above your head before you adjust your weight in the branch. Wondering why in the hell the man you respected so much, the man who understood the pain you went through, who apologized for his actions, sent you to watch over some arrogant over grown brat. 

 

"Destiny is a funny thing."  His voice echos in your head as you drift to sleep dreaming of the deep golden color of oolong tea.

[liveandlet-liv]

i quit my job

i started my job as a counter manager back in January this year. my counter specifically is actually pretty successful vs the surrounding counters due to the affordability & inclusivity of the brand. i knew going in that people *want* my counter, but i didn't realize that they would literally TRY ME for my counter; specifically one lady, lets name her bethany.

so when i first met bethany, i immediately saw through this persona she was trying to put on. my intuition was just ringing alarms that she is not really as sweet and supportive as she claims to be. having that feeling made me keep her at a distance, but i was still always nice to her and included her in things. some time goes on and she's starting to become a little colder, ignoring and avoiding me, then comes our argument.

i was wrapping up an event that just finished, i had boxes everywhere, my station looked hectic, i was going to be off the next two days and then my manager told me corporate was coming and another event was launching the next day. my first priority as a manager is setting up my team for success, so that's what i started to do. of course i was ringing up customers and helping them out in between, but i was also trying my best to clean and get things set up since i was going to be off. the counter next to me didn't have any workers and there were some customers lining up and I asked... nicole (works under need bethany) to help them out, as i was literally in the midst of carrying a heavy box, and she gladly did so. however, bethany had a problem with this.

you see bethany waited until after i took my box to my stock room to aggressively and rhetorically ask me if i was are that nicole worked for her and not that other counter.... And then proceed to tell me that I should be helping out more at that counter.. Ladies and gentlemen.. Theys and the gays... I HAVE BEEN helping with that other counter, i even pulled up my transaction card and proved it to management, but do you know who hasnt been helping that counter at all?? BETHANY.

after that bethany completely ignored my existence, but i would always make some effort, i would ask her questions about her brand if a customer wanted information, and if i needed to do something i would let her and others know still so my counter would have eyes on it. one time i asked her for a sample of this hand cream for a customer and she told me that i wasnt allowed to use it anymore.. then back peddled because she realized how unprofessional she was being.

so i get COVID shortly after and while i'm away, rumors start spreading about me, literal complete fabricated stories! this just makes me anxious because management would catch wind, which they did and they asked me about them and i honestly don't know what to tell them other than they're complete lies. this lady is like mid-to-late 30's/40s and i am 24 and she is bullying me LMAO like what the hell?

my last straw was when i had returned to work, i was talking to the girls at another counter and i saw a customer browsing my counter. i started walking towards her and when i caught up to her, she was at the next counter over which was a luxe counter. i greeted her and asked if i can help her with anything and she expressed interest in the luxe, not my brand, so i told her that i was going to grab the luxe sales girl for her. literally as i was finishing that sentence, i see bethany look at us and then run to the luxe girl and told her i was stealing a sale.. literally WHY will this lady not mind her own damn business? it's fucking CHILDISH and unprofessional. she's now crossing the threshold of ruining my business relationships, and that just set me over the edge. i will not work in a place with someone acting like an evil puppet master.

look, i'm bipolar 2 and i have to take care of my mental health before anything. that night when i was in bed, i kept waking up and falling back asleep. i would dream violent dreams of beating her ass, i would wake up and be pumped of energy and adrenaline, smoke, and then go back to sleep. this happened for sure 3 times. when i officially woke up and started getting ready for work, i started to realize that i could not go to work because i was still aggressive and last time something like this happened, it was when i was in high school, but did i follow through with my dream and i beat the person up who was upsetting me that much.

i became anxious because even if i give myself time and simmer down, i know i am going to boil over again. i start thinking about just going up to my job and filling out the paperwork to quit; started having persistent thoughts of keying her car. i can't do that, that's not okay to do. so i sit in this anxious yet hypomanic cycle trying to determine what i should do. i want to be a good employee, but i'm also a slave to this mental illness.

i decided the best thing for me would be to stay home because it would not be safe for me at all to go anywhere in that headspace, my mental health matters, and therefore i emailed my store management my resignation.

[agustdmono]

SOLD; jjk Oneshot (M)

Pairing(s): Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You are hired for a one-time event as a server, but little did you know that you were brought into something that would determine the worth of your life.

Word Count: 6.1K+

Genre(s): ONESHOT! Mature (18+), Smut, bts AU

Caution(s): Reader being sold at an auction (brief mentions of being caged and shackled), status degradation, dom!Jungkook, public sex, oral (m & f), unprotected sex, choking

Author’s Note(s): Please bear with us because this is our first time posting fanfiction (;Д;)!

The silver platters that lied on top of the marble tables were ready to be served to the guests who attended an event that was only known amongst those who received an invite. By having a name for yourself and building your popularity was the only possible way to gain recognition from the host. The occasion was kept secretive, but you didn’t understand why it was kept hidden from the public eyes. Rumors were spreading around that only wealthy people were allowed to attend the event; which caused you to excessively worry about different possible scenarios that could cause trouble. It might be one slip and the entire building would come crashing down. The last thing you wanted to do was cause any trouble or draw any attention to yourself.

All it took was one look to notice how everyone got a dress code. The men dressed up in their sleek suits and some women holding onto their partner for dear life; all wearing masks as a finishing touch. It was interesting to see—what looked like—a masquerade ball. You gawked at the way these people could afford these nice things and flaunt them in a place where others had that in common. It made you reflect upon yourself: working on a weekend to meet your needs.

Before you could get swallowed by your thoughts, you heard the chef yell from the opening of the kitchen. He was instructing the servants to get a move on. Brushing off the lint on your shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles that appeared on your uniform, you picked up your first round plate and headed for the door that leads to where people gathered. You casually went around, offering every single attendee a glass of complimentary champagne. Judging by their appearances up close, they’re attires practically overflowed with high power. It was clear that money was not an issue for them. However, the black medical masks over their mouths made the job of hiding their identities easy; which caused you to think of possible reasons as to why the accessory was necessary for a formal event like this.

On cue, like the hosts of the party informed, the lights began to dim down. As the area fell into an eerie atmosphere with the quiet murmurs and shuffling, everyone turned to the stage. The curtains were a deep shade of red that somehow reminded you of blood. The suede fabric glistened underneath the spotlight that lingered on the empty place. This was your cue to quietly exit the area and return to the kitchen to meet back with the other servers. As you placed your tray to where it originally belonged, you took one last look around to see the employees waiting around. You assumed that by following them to that area, you would all soon receive your pay for this night. As you made small talk with those around you, you could have sworn that there was something about the way the place was too secluded from everyone. As the room slowed down, comprehending the situation became more and more difficult. As soon as you wanted to turn around and leave, you felt a damp rag being forced against your mouth. Terrified, you tried to fight off the stranger, but the scent of the sweet organic chemical, you were already slipping into an unconscious state.

What only felt a few minutes was apparently already an hour. The last time you remember checking the time, it was barely peeking at 10pm, and now it was already a quarter till midnight. You woke up and your body wasn’t responding with you. Still stuck in a daze, you didn’t notice you were walking without any sensation in your legs; as if you were being pushed by a working force. The motion finally came to a stop, and you couldn’t fully understand what was going on because the surrounding were pitch black.

The ruckus in the following grew then louder at the same time as the light began to appear in your sight. The single ray appeared like a mirage on top of the slight ringing in your ear. Soon, the blackness disappeared by being taken over by the spotlight blinded you, leaving stars to make a brief appearance. Eventually, you snapped out of your headspace, accompanying a gamut of emotions. Your eyes roamed around, tears brimming your eyes feeling the overwhelmed reaction to seeing the crowd before you. With your eyes flickering left and right, the sound of metal scraping against the floors and each other made you wince. Here, all of the servers looked absolutely trashed and defeated. The bird-like cages that kept them from running and the shackles wrapped around their wrists and ankles made the whole scenario inhumane. One would clearly confirm that, but according to these people, it didn’t seem like something out of the ordinary. You then took note that you were also present on display alongside them all. Now scanning yourself, you felt completely exposed. Your clothing was tattered and certain parts of your skin were put out in the open for everyone else to see. As if it would make all the difference, you quickly utilized your arms to cover anything. Shame and embarrassment filled your mind at the thought of strangers seeing you like this; especially while all eyes were on you. Feeling vulnerable in front of the lot was an understatement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time to begin! Have a seat, relax and enjoy. Make sure to get your paddles ready because we’re about to start the party!” the auctioneer announced excitedly. “I would like to present to you our first gem will be, Y/N L/N.”

Your eyes shot up at your name being pronounced syllable by syllable. Just the sound of a stranger staying your name put a sick feeling to your stomach. You held your head up to peek at the sea of people, but then unconsciously scooting back with the discomfort. You then dared to look into the dimly lit audience, barely making out any facial features due to their masks still being on. You didn’t bother listening to the numbers that were being thrown around by the presenter because you felt like your life is over. Apparently, a bidding for people was really a thing, and somehow you were dragged into it without knowing. You couldn’t help but be hard on yourself though, not thinking outside of the box. The pay for the job seemed too good to be true for one night only, but you only thought of that now at the wrong time.

“And now we’ve $400,000!” the male stated, pointing to a person. “Going once!”

You looked over that the masked person who held up their paddle with ease. Something about them just made you feel uncomfortable. It might have been your intuition or gut, and some don’t believe those, but this time seemed to be a point to believe yourself. The way their eyes crinkled seemed off and your heart began to pound like crazy. Knowing that there was a creepy smile hiding behind that black material gave you chills. Although you knew that this was still a terrible event, you prayed to yourself that you wouldn’t get stuck with such a creepy person.

“$400,000: going twice!”

You hated every single moment about this. All these people are willing to enslave these innocent people, and only God knows for how long.

“$700,000!” the person offered holding up his paddle.

This time―when you looked over to the bidder―the male didn’t have that same type of vibe as the previous guy. His voice was younger and rather determined, though keeping his composed as he laid back in his seat. Even though you had these hopeful thoughts, you still kept your guard up because he is someone who chose to participate.

The older male with the microphone then announced that it would be their last chances to beat the six-digit bid. People looked around to check if any other paddles go up; the majority of them narrowing their eyes towards the younger male in all black.

“And sold!”

And of course, no one bothered to beat the price he proposed, knowing that there were other choices besides you. You couldn’t help but worry about the other girls though, but this was out of your control. After being the first person to go, you felt somewhat relieved to not be on that open stage. As soon as a chorus of claps were given, your cage was being pushed behind the curtains to hide you once again. The workers were quick to unlock the gate of the cage and also the lock of your shackles. As the heavy pieces of metal hit the floor, you let your senses kick in by the sound of footsteps in the distance. You saw the mysterious bidder stop to have a talk with the auctioneer for a minute or so while you were stepping out of the cage.

“Here’s your new owner,” the auctioneer spoke as he approached you. “Just to be clear here, he has every right to bring you back here if you’re not worth it.”

It was quick, clear, and concise. You debated whether to get angry or attempt to run away, but you knew it was hopeless with witnesses around. Not even a moment later, the man slipped past the curtains to greet the guests once more. You understood why he left you with your bidder, but you still didn’t enjoy the fact you had no explanation for your unexpected turn of events. Instead, you were left there in front of someone who you didn’t know, who practically determined the worth of your life.

“So… You are?” you began, observing the other at the same time.

The male smirked beneath his disguise. You watched as he lifted up his hand to his mask and slowly peeled it away from his face. He looked friendly enough, and his soothing voice made everything less bad.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

It’s already been two weeks since Jeon Jungkook bought you from that eventful night. At first, you despised the male, demanding him to take you home immediately every single hour. But then you realized that your efforts to pick fights were completely useless. He’d be quick to ignore your requests and would even leave you alone at his penthouse; not that you were complaining about that. Weeks unending, the anger and tension within you eventually died down. As you discovered that he wasn’t a terrible person, you figured that a chance would be something you should consider. You learned that he was one of the world’s outstanding photographers; which was something that shocked you, especially because he was very young for such a career. He had also worked with many influential figures and idols from all over the world, and also bringing up the fact that hiring him for one photoshoot would already cost $250,000.

Today, he brought you along to the shop where he’d usually purchase his suits: customized, fitted and all. You recall he had an exhibit he needed to tend to and informed you that never wears the same suit twice. Rolling your eye at that, you let a goofy grin linger on your lips, knowing he found his own words impressive. Then again, you had no right to judge that because that’s how you knew he had the money to satisfy his materialistic side.

He walked up to the assistant by the cashier and requested for the suit he ordered. She then followed protocol and asked him to wait in the dressing room as she goes to search for his order. You looked at her and then him, wondering where you’d stay, but you felt a little tug on your dress as he walked in the direction of the rooms. As you followed him closely behind, you noticed the wide amount of cold gazes that were coming from the other employees. You didn’t know what their problem was, but you were assuming it was because they didn’t enjoy the presence of a newcomer.

Now that you had settled for a seat of your own, you watched Jungkook close the velvet curtain behind him. All you had to do now was wait. Your eyes wandered around the area to take a look at all of the nice art pieces that decorated the walls. It interested you to see the various luxury-looking items; especially the chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings. Just when you thought you’d get a small little break―and to possibly squeeze a nap in―you heard Jungkook call for you from behind the curtain of the dressing room. Getting up from your seat, you nervously walked up to the fabric that separated you from your bidder. Knocking on the surface beside it, he hummed as an indication for you to come in. You reached for the curtain and slowly slid them apart to reveal a disheveled man. Two buttons were already undone; which displayed his prominent collar bones and his red satin tie that messily rested on the crook of his neck. His shirt remained half untucked and his hair was unkempt. You couldn’t help but avert your eyes from the scene.

“Y/N, put yourself to use and help me,” he demanded.

You froze at his words, but you had no choice. And it was no use to question him either. Entering the compacted area, you closed the curtain behind you and slowly stride towards his direction. You could feel his gaze on you as you closed the gap between his body and yours, the heat of his breath tickling your eyelashes. By the amount of height difference, you could say that his atmosphere was nothing but dominant. And you couldn’t believe the amount of tension that was rising in the room because of how much you were delaying to fulfill his request.

“You’re wasting my time,” he snarled as he grabbed your hand and pulled it up to his unbuttoned shirt.

“Sorry,” you flinched at his sudden action.

You proceeded to trace the buttons all the way down to his belt. You could hear the sound of his breath growing heavier as he anticipated you to continue on. The way he glared down at your fingertips, he hissed inwards, indicating just how impatient he was. Unfortunately for him, you were feeling a bit too risky; thus causing you to press your lips together to suffice a devilish smile. You let your hands hover over his belt; letting his impatience rapidly grow.

“You can do the rest yourself right?” you asked innocently, your eyes observing every last piece of his body proportion, as you slowly backed away from him.

Before your hand could reach the curtain to exit the room, you felt a cold grip around your elbow; due to the rings that wrapped around his fingers. As you trailed your gaze down to his touch, you let your eyes trail up to his own; which was already staring you down with determination and anger. As soon as you could sense his emotion, you felt a wave of chills run down your spine, following with quiet shudders from the back of your throat.

“Don’t think you’re dismissed, Y/N,” he growled.

You felt your core heat with arousal at the way he pronounced your name: a deep and husky tone vibrating throughout your entire body. His hands then slipped around your waist and pulled you in closer. Your bodies were pressed against each other as you felt his hands roam around your lower body. Your breath hitched and you could see his satisfied smirk planted on his face. He brought his hands up to your buttons this time, thinking he would get his way eventually. As a reflex, you instantaneously grabbed onto his wrist to prevent him from accomplishing what he intended. Out of displeasure, he snatched your wrist this time and pinned you against the wall.

“I own you,” he stated, “I will have my way with you.”

You gasped at the sudden motion, lucky enough to have him holding onto you for balance. Feeling helpless and trapped as you stumbled backward against the flat surface, unable to break out of his tight hold, not once did you rip your attention from his. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you couldn’t help but feel excited at this moment of seeing Jungkook’s aggressive side.

He looked down at your mouth and licked his own, feeling hungrier as he leaned forward. You closed your eyes, expecting his lips to collide with yours, but you only felt a slight brush. The way his lips hovered over your neck from avoiding the intimate gesture caused greater frustration in the pit of your stomach. You instinctively lifted your head and tilted it to the side as a result of that, easily exposing your neck to him. You didn’t care how desperate you looked when you craved more from him.

“Look at you giving in to me,” he taunted. “Such an obedient girl.”

He brought his hands down to your hips and pulled you against his erection. You let out an inaudible moan, praying that no one was near their section. Feeling his fingers dig into your skin, your head began to pound. Confliction ran through your mind because you knew shouldn’t be enjoying this moment.

“You caused this, wearing that damned short dress of yours,” he told after motioning to his crotch, “and you’re going to help me fix it.”

You felt your knees buckle at his command, giving you no other option but to obey. The room felt like it was getting hotter; especially how Jungkook was going to use you, the minimal traces of fog appearing on the mirror. His fingers began to undo the buttons on your dress once again, exposing your bare chest to him. He controlled every single part of you. Feeling weak against his touch, you allowed him to do whatever he pleases from this time on. You felt a hand massage your breast as his lips also worked to press against your sensitive skin. He began to suck even more, and you brought your hands up to your mouth to suppress the noises that come out of your mouth, hoping that the two of you wouldn’t get caught. You attempted to make an alternative by biting down on the bed of your index finger, the pain indefinitely made you shut up once his hand massages your sex. He removed your hands from your mouth and leaned in towards your ear.

“I want to hear you beg for me baby,” he muttered.

With barely any more resistance left in you, the only thing that was released from your mouth was a shaky breath. That gave him more willpower to keep doing as he pleased, not giving a care about how you dealt with the situation. The way you stubbornly shook your head irked him just a tad bit further. But to see you struggling beneath him drew his eyes to peek from its corners, ceasing his pleasures to its max. As you could already tell by the smirk against your skin, he had made his claim clear. Jungkook still had those same hooded eyes, but this time rather lustful than the rest. Feeling him working his way between your thighs, you licked your lips. The way he gradually pushed your panties off to the side drove you crazy. Pressing his fingers against your clit a bit rougher, you whined against his touch, feeling your legs practically shaking from your persistence. Wishing that this would avoid what he inquired for, you knew he’d get his need one way or another.

“Don’t resist Y/N,” he provoked. “I know you want this.”

As soon as you were about to give in, you felt a single digit being pushed inside of you without any warnings. An electric shock occurred in your spine, causing you to arch your back against the stiff wall. Once again, you reached with the instinct to wrap your hand around his wrist. It wasn’t to indicate that you wanted him to stop, so you expected him to take the hint to keep going. Just in case, you let a word slip passed you.

“Please J-Jungkook,” you begged, “M-More.”

“I like hearing you beg,” he mumbled under his breath. “Keep going, babe.”

“I w-want your fingers inside of me,” you continued.

You looked directly at him, knowing that a smirk would form on his face once he’d figure you couldn’t take the foreplay any longer than this. Initially, your unyielding trait taking over was probably the best decision for this scenario. You enjoyed the way how he openly spoke about his desires; leaving you to tease and push his limits. It was the rush of not knowing what someone like him was capable of doing and how far he would take it: unpredictable in comparison to his soft facial attributes. That’s what drew you into rebelling against his orders anyway.

While you were getting lost in your thoughts, a pair of dark eyes met with your own, pumping his finger in and out. And yet again, Jungkook decided to insert another without any hints. If anything, his speed increased; not to mention the way his rings hit you in the right spots with every push. Standing as still as you possibly could, your gasps filled the air. As you tried to get used to how full he made you, you bit down on your bottom lip to see if that solution would help. But your moans could have painted the walls if you had completely let yourself go; especially, by the way, your own breath was held accountable for the pleasure he provided for you. In addition, the speed of your other free hand immediately wrapped around his neck drew him to press his forehead against yours, ensuring their physical connection. Though failing to refrain from letting go and hearing your whines increasing in volume, he let out a small chuckle in a victory.

“D-Don’t stop,” you stuttered.

“So fucking needy,” he observed.

“I need your cock,” you whined. “Please.”

He then removed his hands from your body, neglecting your current state. He hadn’t forgotten what he originally wanted you to do, and that was hinted by him motioning to his fastened belt. You let out an irritated sigh because you knew you had to follow through with his request. You sent him a glare, not even thinking twice about taking his accessory and undoing it for him. The sound of the metal hitting against itself and the button also ending up being undone as well. A tuned hum played along Jungkook’s lips as he swiped his tongue across. Just as you were taking his zipper between your thumb and index finger, you already heard a throaty moan coming from the male before you. It was satisfying to know that you also had this effect on him as well, but this time it was before you knew what was about to come. You looked up at him for any other signals to stop or keep going, but all you recall is him keeping his eyes on his crotch.

“Damn, Y/N,” he seethed, “You’re driving me crazy.”

That was your guess to continue onto other articles of his clothing. By the time you had stayed on track, your fingertips pressed against his sun-kissed skin. His reaction to your handling on him was bare, but you knew you were doing something right. He took his own lip between his teeth this time as if mimicking your previous actions, so it made you mischievously grin. You then worked along the bed of his hipbone; only to trace along the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Your tactic of slowing down by the second took a toll on his arousal because of the way his bulge increased in size. It was practically inching towards you as you inched towards it as well. It was no question that you would push both his undergarments and pants down to reveal his erection from springing out.

“Keep going, baby girl…”

Using that as your obvious cue, you took his length into your hand and played lightly. Your strokes weren’t intense, but they were impacting for Jungkook; especially after being teased by his new toy. His jaw slacked with pleasure as his head was thrown back to pair. Moans filled the room with no shame, proving just how confident he was and how he wanted to tell you that you were doing well. You could also feel yourself soaking yourself at the sight of him being satisfied by your work. Licking your lips, you watched as he invested this time with his shut. The way his shaft perfectly fit in your hand only made you imagine how amazing it would feel to take all of him inside of you.

“Jungkook,” you spoke in a needy tone. “I-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt a familiar grasp against your waist. As you were dragged over to where the mirror was hung, the chilled object made you tremble. It was the surprise that prompted you to carefully observe Jungkook every move. Even though they were swift, it wasn’t hard to miss a thing by the trace you found yourself coming in and out of. It was like he had you wrapped around his finger. His hands roamed around your lower torso, taking the back of one thigh, causing your entire leg to be lifted up. Your knee was secure between the side of his body and elbow to hold you steady on your one leg. Just like that, he took his cock into his other hand and hovered over your entrance. He knew exactly what he was doing by the way he slid the tip back-and-forth between your folds.

“I don’t think you deserve this cock baby girl,” he taunted.

“But I’ve been good for you,” you replied. “Please, I can’t wait anymore.”

Slowly; but surely, his tip gradually made its way to stretch you just enough.

“So damn tight…” he sighed out a heated breath. “You like that baby?”

“Oh f-fuck yes,” you cursed.

“This is nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you Y/N.”

It was to the point of sucking in a sharp breath, causing him to look up at you to make sure you were alright. This was barely anything, and he already had you on a rise. You nodded at him to keep going, knowing that you could handle the majority of his width if he went moderately. Unfortunately for you, he couldn’t read minds. His abrupt action of shoving his entire size into you generated a loud yelp; which he then cupped your mouth to keep you quiet. He began to thrust in and out of you slowly. Your eyes rolled back at the pleasure as you let your whines press against the palm of his hand as he stifled your noises.

“That’s it,” he said. “I know you’ll take in this cock like the good girl you are.”

“Y-yes, J-Jungkook,” you obeyed.

After understanding the concept of being selected, your tight walls wrapped the right amount around him and there wasn’t a moment after that when he’d stop his consistent pace. Your choice to praise him was in your favor; especially by him increasing his pace just a little bit more than before. Sometimes the overwhelming amount of pleasure would fix your eyes to roll back as well. But this was no time to countdown the seconds or detail: it was to rely on the amount of indulgence that occurred within this period.

“Turn around,” he gnarred.

Of course, he was far from finished. As if you didn’t have a choice, you already felt Jungkook taking charge of the change in positions. You had no control over how your body felt like jello; embodying a rag doll being tossed around like the toy you actually are.

Now with you facing the mirror, you could see his bare torso, assuming he had done it himself. His chest was already glowing from the sweat that had formed from the activity, and that was only the beginning of it. Though his length was—once again—shoved inside of you, it hadn’t taught you to keep your mouth shut. Being more than happy that you didn’t, the way his hand reached from behind you and around to your neck, he roughly pulled you back towards him. The gap between your bodies was filled by the contact being made after that mistake.

“It’s like you want to get caught,” he threatened.

This only made him more forceful than before. His hand around the throat tightened after reaching from behind and the sight of seeing him through the mirror turned you on moreover. The way your back arched to suit the extension of his arm made it seem like the scene was planned or directed. Another thing that didn’t help was the faint clapping sounds as he thrust into you, knowing he was also being cautious.

“Don’t h-hold back,” you insisted.

“Careful with your words Y/N,” he said dangerously.

It didn’t even take a second for Jungkook’s pace to speed up; alongside with the power that he expressed into every other advance, almost like a pattern that would kill you every time his length would reach that deep inside of you. By the number of uneven breaths, whines, and moans you’d let out, he could tell his efforts were making all the difference.

“H-Harder,” you begged, a whine hidden behind your single word. “I c-can take it.”

This time he had obeyed your request with no questions. It was clear that he wanted to be satisfied himself, but you were also someone he kept into consideration. After all, you were someone he had technically purchased from a bidding, and apart of him wished for you to enjoy your time as well. But as soon as another person’s voice echoed from behind the closed doors, your eyes shot up to the mirror to meet Jungkook’s. You were fearful of getting caught like this, but the looked in his eyes had something different in store.

“Mr. Jeon, I brought your suit,” his personal aide called. “Will you be needing any assistance?”

Obviously, it didn’t phase him one bit. To see how he was acting as if he hadn’t heard anything, his eyes fixated on your body below him, and you wondered how he could keep his pace so steadily, knowing that someone could hear every little detail that they were participating in. It slightly worried you, but there was also a piece that underlies with adrenaline. Just then, you felt his heated body hover over your back. As he leaned forward, he whispered into your ear.

“Answer her,” he commanded.

There was a bubble of hesitation that popped in your mind; which you then swiped a look at him to see that he was looking extremely serious. You didn’t think you were able to encounter such dark eyes that carried more lust than before.

“B-But-”

“Answer,” he interrupted. “Now.”

You gulped in preparation to reply to the lady. Unexpectedly, Jungkook was cautious: slowing down his movements to give some sort of ability to speak steadily. But something in your gut told you to take your sweet time, making sure to extend the minute. You could feel his eyes burning into your soul through the mirror though, and once you opened your mouth, the pressure of his cock rammed into you at the same time you were basically forced to shout out a hard “NO!” and after realizing how peculiar you sounded, you cleared your throat to cover it up. Like Jungkook had planned, his severity was startling. He was just full of surprises. As if it couldn’t feel any better than before, he roughly gripped your waist, figuring that it would leave traces of a couple bruises the next day.

“Y-You can just leave it. I’ll be helping him shortly,” you struggled to mutter as he continued to pound into you.

“Okay… I’ll leave it on this seat,” she informed with a suspicious tone. “Is everything alright?”

“Just-” you paused, feeling his cock thrust deeper into you while praying he’d think to stop for just a moment, “perfect,” you then finished your gritted teeth.

“If you say so…”

As the woman’s footsteps faded away, you waited until the room fell silent, only to be filled by yours and Jungkook’s pants. You felt his hand reach down past your waist, letting Jungkook’s weight prop against your own. Taking a look at the reflection of you two, you could see that he was reaching around to finish you off. Once you felt the familiar touch against your clit, you inhaled a sharp breath out of hysteria.

“God, I-I’m so close,” you trembled through your words.

After you informed him of your nearing high, he could already feel your walls closing around his cock.

“That’s it, take it baby girl,” he huffed. “You fit around my cock so well.”  

You felt the pit in your stomach becoming overbearing. You wanted to cum for him so badly, but you wanted to wait until he permitted you to do so.

“Be a good girl and wait for me,” he instructed on cue. “I-I’m gonna cum inside you.”

Before you could say anything, he picked up the pace. You could feel his nails dig into your skin, and you were positive that there will be bruises for those the next day as well.

“Fuck, yes,” you begged. “Fill me up so good.”

Your words nearly pushed him over the edge.

“God,” he breathed. “You’re so naughty for me”

You could feel him pounding you so hard that you swore that you won’t be able to walk up straight once he was done with you. He began to rub your clit faster. You bit the bottom of your lip like your first effort to avoid being loud, but at this point, you didn’t care who would hear you. You just wanted to make Jungkook feel good about how he treated you so well.

“I want to hear you scream,” he harshly whispered.

His final thrust caused your knees to buckle and your jaw to fall open. You knew that you were past your limit; especially when you didn’t hold back your next words.

“Oh fuck, J-Jungkook!” you moan as you coated your juices all over his cock.

As you released yourself against him, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling you back to press his front torso against your back. It was an intimate moment between you two when you felt the tension build inside of you from the huge load he had released. It was all quiet, by the two of you holding your breaths to take everything in. Although your sighs were uneven and out of sync when you fully released yourself. You leaned further into him, hoping he would be there to be of aid for the remaining time. His cock easily slipped out of you; which made you disappointed, since it literally felt emptier.

You felt exhausted after the whole ordeal, and it showed when you struggled to button up your own dress. He shuffled to the side to give you your space as fixed himself up. After quickly collecting himself and adjusting his attire, he waltzed towards you, motioning that you both should head out. The two of you nonchalantly then exited the dressing room, except your womanhood ached every time you took a step. He offered his arm to you for support; which you took without hesitation.

He ended up buying the suit he never bothered to try on, but he was sure it was more than likely to fit him nicely. You could tell that his biceps were pretty obvious through his current wear, and when you scanned him up and down, you were caught by his eyes already watching you. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but he let it be by leading you both to the sidewalk. This is where the two of you waited for the valet to return his car. When his dark red Lamborghini pulled up, you both entered the vehicle and headed for his penthouse. You were dazing in and out, wondering how often this will happen between you two. You felt his hand glide down your inner thigh and gave it a squeeze causing you to snap out of your thoughts.

“Don’t think that this is over baby,” he smirked as he continued driving.

“W-Wha-”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted.

[aph-oklahoma-46]

Pirate AU

Somebody stop me with the AUs. Anywho, have 2300+ words of this.

Also, Catalina is Ahyoka’s Spanish name and is relevant only in this AU

Elizabeth/Massachusetts is @crispy-yy ‘s oc. Angel, of course, belongs to @texass-shenanigans , who, as always, was a big help with world-building and encouraging my addiction.

Angel had taken them to a small inn not far from port. He had wanted to get further inland, but he hadn’t been able to gather any supplies before escaping last night. That, combined with the energy required to carry to young children to the nearest town, meant they would have to stop in the port town.

Emily was curled up next to Catalina, both still sleeping soundly. A good thing, since they’d be traveling far if they wanted to get ahead of Antonio. A bad thing, since Toni would have noticed once morning came that they had stolen a boat and snuck off in the night and would heading to the nearest port to hunt them down. That was if they were lucky, of course, and if no one saw them leave or noticed a missing boat during a night watch.

Angel was rarely lucky, so they needed to leave soon.

He leaned back in the chair and rubbed a hand over his face. First, they all needed a change of clothes. They were soaked from last night, and there wasn’t a fireplace to dry their clothes by. They also needed food, at least breakfast and preferably provisions to take with them. Lastly, they needed directions, or a map or something to tell him where they were and how to get where they needed to go.

Catalina stirred and Angel sighed. Better to go now.

“Good morning, Lina. Sleep well?”

Catalina sat up, trying not to wake her sister, and shook her head.

“Yeah, me neither. Bit of a rough night, huh?”

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. “I’m hungry,” she said as Angel handed her a mostly dry nightgown. When she took it from him, she frowned at the cold dampness of the fabric.

Angel nodded and replied, “I know, me too. I’ll see what they have here to eat, and then we can go get new clothes.”

He stood up and looked around the room. There wasn’t much in it, and most of what was there belonged to the inn. Angel had quite literally escaped with nothing but his sisters and the clothes they all wore. Angel happened to have a small coin bag in his pocket, probably there for when he would have been sent out by Antonio to buy some treat or trinket for the girls at the next port. That had been used to rent their current accommodations and would hopefully be sufficient for breakfast. Angel doubted the coins would go much further than that.

Grabbing the bag of coins, he warned Catalina to stay in the room and to not answer the door for anybody other than him. Then, he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth exited the room she’d just finished cleaning and moved on to the next. She’d much rather be doing anything else, but the inn was the only place she could find both work and relative safety while she waited for something more interesting.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. There were plenty of interesting people who came to the inn in this port city, and that was another part of the reason she took the job. Elizabeth had come here looking for adventure, and the best way to find it, in her mind, was to join a crew on a ship, and the best way to do that was to interact with as many sailors as she could in her circumstances, hence the job at the inn. Unfortunately, few sailors were keen to offer her work on their ships, and those who did seemed to have very narrow views of what a girl could be useful for on a ship. So, she remained at the inn.

Knocking on the door to her next room and hearing nothing, she entered and set her supplies down. As she made her way over to the bed, a little head popped out from underneath.

“Hello!”

Elizabeth jumped, but she bit back the yelp she felt jump up as well.

A little girl, maybe five, crawled out from under the bed. She was covered in dust and dirt now, and her hair was tangled and messy. While Elizabeth recovered from the encounter, another girl, this one about ten, jogged over and stood between her and the smaller child.

“Um… hi?” Elizabeth tried. “I’m here to clean the rooms. I didn’t realize this one was still occupied; I can come back later, if you and your parents would like?” The older girl eyed Elizabeth, who eyed her back.

“Mama and Daddy aren’t here!” the littlest one said. The older girl turned and shushed her, receiving an annoyed look from… her sister, Elizabeth decided.

“Oh? Then where are they? And who is taking care of you two?”

“On the boat!”

“Hush!!” The oldest turned back to Elizabeth. “Our brother is watching us, and he’ll be back soon.”

Elizabeth nodded seriously. “My apologies. Well, if it doesn’t bother you, I’ll just change the sheets and clean up a little before he gets back, so you can have a clean bed to sit on, hm?”

The oldest girl seemed to think about this for a moment, then nodded. She ushered her sister up and over to the chairs and small table by the window to be out of Elizabeth’s way while she cleaned.

Chuckling quietly, Elizabeth removed the sheets and began replacing them. As she lifted the sheet off the bed, a small thud sounded from the mattress. A bracelet had been left on the bed and fell off when the sheets were disturbed. She picked it up and looked it over, turning to call to the children and return it, when she noticed the insignia on the middle charm.

Elizabeth knew a lot about the sea, and the pirates who vied for control of it. Her father was one of the better-known captains who sought to monopolize the waters, and Elizabeth had grown up around him and his kind. The insignia on the charm bracelet was one she recognized from her childhood. Carriedo-Fernandez was perhaps her father’s biggest rival; certainly, one of his more despised competitors. She had seen this insignia on the maps Arthur planned his routes and raids on, being the source of many rants and ravings and inconveniences.

So, what the fuck was a toddler doing with it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel pushed open the door and sat down the food he’d ordered from down the hall.

“Alright, we’ve got bread, jelly, and moldy cheese, but it’ll have to do. Are you two r—,”

He stopped immediately when he saw the extra occupant sitting on the bed, at first chatting with Emily and Catalina, and now looking at him expectantly. He wasn’t particularly concerned about this; he had seen her last night and realized the girl was an employee of the inn. Still, he was a little paranoid since Antonio’s ship, or one of his vessels, had almost certainly docked somewhere by now and began spreading the news of their escape. Toni was a rich man, and he was known to pay handsomely in order to get what he wanted, be it goods, better equipment, or in this case, runaways. Angel didn’t want to take chances with strangers.

“Who are you?” he asked guardedly.

The woman on the bed looked him up and down and was apparently unimpressed. “Elizabeth Kirkland,” she stated matter-of-factly, and Angel swallowed.

The way she said the name, and the way she looked at him… Angel knew she knew more about him than he would like. How, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t the problem here.

“Nice to meet you. I’d invite you to eat with us, but I didn’t get enough for four people, so…”

“That’s alright, I already had breakfast. However, that’s not going to be enough for all three of you, considering the situation you’re in.” She motioned for Angel to sit on the bed with her. “Why don’t you let the kiddos eat and we can talk for a bit.”

He thought about saying no; the last thing he needed was a Kirkland on his ass. Arthur Kirkland was most certainly not a fan of Toni, and Angel wouldn’t put it past the man try and capture him or the girls just to irritate his rival.

Still, if this Elizabeth was working for Kirkland, then there would be other’s waiting nearby in case she needed help. The best bet would be to talk with her and hope he was somehow mistaken about her motives and purpose.

Angel put the food over on the table for the girls to eat, helping Emily spread jelly on her bread before motioning Elizabeth to follow him outside the room. To his surprise, she did.

“If you wanna talk, fine, but let’s talk somewhere private.”

Elizabeth just looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “My room is far from any occupied guest rooms. We can talk there.” Angel followed her, making sure she entered first and watching carefully for anything that seemed like a signal for a surprise attack or trap.

When he was somewhat satisfied that no one would attack him, he turned to Elizabeth and scowled.

“What do you know about us and what to you want?”

“Right to the point, I see. I like it.” She grinned. “Look, all I know is that you and those girls are connected to the bloody Spaniard somehow, though I’m willing to bet that those two are the daughters he’s rumored to have. Of course, that raised some questions of why they are with you and not their father, doesn’t it?” She fixed Angel with a look, and he suddenly became just as uncomfortable as he was on first entry to the room.

“You seem scared. The older girl—I believe her name is Catalina—seems… protective of the littler one, and also scared. But the baby, Emily, she seems just to be happy about this new adventure she thinks she’s on, if a little put out that mommy and daddy aren’t with her. They call you ‘brother.’ This really is a confusing situation you’re in. A person wouldn’t know what to think of it all, to be sure.”

Angel struggled to push down the dread that the accuracy of her observations so far had pulled to the surface. Did she know they were running from Toni?

“What do you think of it?” he asked, glad that his voice remained steady.

Elizabeth hummed for a moment. She looked at him thoughtfully before answering.

“I think you’re running from him. The bloody Spaniard, I mean. I assume that the girls really are your sisters, because Catalina seems smart and strong and I don’t think she would be convinced to call a stranger ‘brother’ or let herself and her sister be kidnapped and just be ok with that. Because of this, I understand why you don’t seem to trust me, what with me being a Kirkland and all, and you’re probably afraid that I’m after you for the reward that is most certainly going to be on your head, if it isn’t already. Tell me, how much of that was right?”

Angel didn’t answer right away. He needed to think.

This woman knew he had taken the girls and ran, and apparently, she thought that the girls were the rumored children of Toni.

Before Angel confirmed or denied anything, he needed to know if Elizabeth was working for Arthur Kirkland. The last thing he needed was for the bushy-browed bastard to know where the supposed children of his greatest rival were, especially after what Toni found out yesterday.

Especially after what he did yesterday.

Fighting back the bile that rose in his throat at the memory of what he hoped would be his last day on any of Antonio’s ships, Angel stood up a little taller.

“Are you going to run back to Big Brows if I tell you this?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “No, of course not. Look, I’m Arthur Kirkland’s daughter. If I was doing anything on his behalf, do you think I would be working at some rundown inn in a tiny port city? No!”

Seeing Angel’s eye widen at the mention of her relation to Arthur, Elizabeth reconsidered her approach.

“Look. I know what it’s like to have a man like that as a parent. I don’t know what is going on with you and Carriedo and those girls, but I can only imagine that he is probably just as bad as a father. I want to help you, and you clearly need it.”

“… Ok.” Angel hated how tired he sounded. But then again, he hated his whole situation at the moment. It’s not like he wanted to agree to this, but he really did need help. He knew so little about cities beyond the ports, and he couldn’t exactly sail on his own. More importantly, he would need help to take care of Catalina and Emily, especially since they would soon be running from what will be the full force of Antonio’s pirating empire.

“What do you need?” Elizabeth was a little shocked at the change in Angel. She wasn’t sure what had happened to him or why he had taken his sisters and ran, but whatever it was, it had clearly taken a toll.

Angel thought about her question. He needed a place to hide, a safe place where his sisters could have a place to sleep and where they could stay without worrying about someone coming after them. And they needed a way to get there.

“I need to get to Francis Bonnefoy. And I need to get there soon. He can protect us and help me find our father.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that last bit but decided to save that for later.

“I know just the man. How’s your Dutch?”

[kookiesspacebuns]

Suite 114 | Pt. 1 | ((ON HOLD))

■ pairing: Jimin x Female OC

■ genre/warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut

■ words: 6k

■ summary: An innocent staring contest leads to a not so innocent relationship.

As soon as the clock ticks 7pm, I throw the last batch of cupcakes I was frosting into the large, industrial-sized refrigerator and let the door slam shut. The loud noise makes me cringe.

I hope my manager didn’t hear that.

Yanking off my apron, I walk to the lunch room and hang it with the others on the wall. My boss, Isa, already knew I was leaving 2 hrs early today but I still poked my head into her office to let her know I was leaving. She responded with a soft smile and ‘Have fun!’ before returning to her paperwork. I was beyond lucky to find such a nice job AND the sweetest boss in the world. Most head bakers in the city were rude, with no care for any of their employees’ feelings. Especially to people like me, who had zero experience.

After 4 years in college for culinary arts, I thought finding work would be easy, but I was wrong. 21 years old and jobless made it difficult to live in the city, but thankfully this job was practically thrown into my lap 3 months ago. How many people can say they were hired through Instagram? I guess all of those perfectly staged photos of desserts I’d upload weren’t a waste of time like everyone used to tell me they were.

A loud honk let’s me know that my ride is here. I look out the front window of the bakery and see my friend, Mina, bouncing in anticipation in the driver’s seat of her car. She’s waving at me to come out with a hurried expression on her face. I quickly turn the shop’s ‘OPEN’ sign on the front door to ‘CLOSED’ and walk out, locking the door behind me. The instant the door latches closed, my heart begins pumping wildly. Adrenaline rushes throughout my body as I run to the passenger side of the car, smiling like a little girl. I practically fall into the seat before shutting the door and buckling myself in.

Mina looks at me as if in shock, “We’re going to meet the most handsome men in the world and you’re wearing….that.” She glares at my shirt.

My eyes follow hers to my soft pink colored blouse with a white peter pan collar. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes this morning. We don’t have time to stop by my place for me to change. So this is what I have to deal with.” I frown.

“Oh no. You are not going to approach your future husband looking like a maid.” She says, almost sarcastically.

My hand goes to cover my heart, pretending I’m hurt by her words. “What if Park Jimin has a maid fetish? You never know.” I purse my lips and try not to laugh, secretly hoping he does have that fetish.

She bursts out laughing and puts the car into gear before taking off. “Well, at least you don’t have to wear those ugly leather shoes you have on.” I glance down at my work shoes. “Because I love you, I brought the converse you left at my house last week. They’re in the back.” She points a finger over her right shoulder towards the back seat.

“Oh my God Mina. You’re the best! I totally forgot I had left those at your house.” I turn in my seat to look for my shoes in the back. They weren’t that easy to find, buried underneath 3 different sweaters and tons of books. I grab them and start to turn around when I spot a black sweater folded neatly on the seat.

“What’s this black sweater for?” I ask.

“Oh, I ordered it online but its it’s a little too big for me. It’s supposed to be oversized, but it’s way too oversized.” She shrugs. I raise one eyebrow and look at her small frame in the seat. She always wears super fitted clothing so the sweater probably isn’t as big as she’s making it out to be. “I have to return it when I get a chance.”

My mind won’t let me get rid of the curiosity about the sweater, so I grab it and open it up in front of me. It feels extremely soft in my hands and the knitted fabric gives easily. Almost all of it is black except for two thick white stripes going across the arms and chest. I instantly fall in love with it.

“I love it, Mina.” I hug it to my chest to show her how much I love it. She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Pleeeeeeeeease let me wear it tonight. Please.” I flash her my best puppy dog eyes.

“Really Anna? You know that doesnt work on me,” my facial expression falls back into place. “You can have it if you like it that much. It can be a super early birthday gift.”

“Awe! Thank you Mina!” My arms awkwardly wrap halfway around her torso in a makeshift hug. She playfully pushes me off of her.

“No problem, girly.”

I slip my arms into the sweater and over my head, pulling it down into place. It fits as perfectly as an oversized sweater can fit, hanging loosely on my sides and reaching almost past my bottom. Sighing contentedly, I reach down to change out of my ugly work shoes and into my black high tops. My feet slipping into my favorite shoes comfortably.

My pink socks, the only item I love from my work uniform, stop right below my knees. The grey pleated skirt touching halfway down my thighs, showing just the right amount of skin.

‘I must look like a school slacker in this outfit.’ I think to myself as I release my hair from its constricting bun and let my long chestnut curls fall down my back.

Mina breaks the short silence with a high pitched squeal. “I can’t believe we’re about to touch BTS. Anna! Are you wrapping your head around this!?” She voices loudly.

My eyes widen out of excitement. “No, I’m not wrapping my head around it fully. It probably won’t even hit me until after we’ve shaken their hands.” We both whine in unison. “I can’t believe that we spent 200 dollars just to touch them. What were we thinking?!”

“I think we were letting our hormones guide us. I just…can’t give up the chance to touch Namjoon’s hand. Anna! Oh my gosh!!!! We’re almost there.” She starts shaking in her seat and fanning her face with one hand. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

I raise one eyebrow in her direction. Calm down Mina. It’s just a hand.

A really beautiful hand…

Oh my…I’m about to touch Jimin’s hands.

His delicate fingers are going to wrap around mine……I bet they are so smooth.

I bet his lips are smooth too….

I clench my eyes shut and cover my face with both of my hands, trying to clear my mind and keep myself from freaking out like my current chauffeur is doing. Mina is practically hyperventilating in my ear, making it hard for me to calm down.

“Mina! Pay attention to the road! We have to make it there without crashing before we can touch them. Okay?!” I say as calm as I can, even though my insides are as worked up as Mina’s.

It would be a horrible death, crashing on the way to a BTS fan meet. Leaving this world before meeting the man that fuels my, mostly naughty, dreams at night. He would see the news of our car crash not even knowing how much he drove my insides crazy. Tragic. Imagining how soft his hands feel is enough to satisfy me for the rest of my life….and enough to have me squeezing my thighs together right now.

You are in so deep, Anna.

Arriving at the convention center, I immediately regret not just taking the day off. The line to get in is beyond ridiculous. At least 200 fans are waiting, in a barely-moving line, trailing all the way down the street. Thankfully as we pass by the front entrance, we notice a separate line with a sign that says ‘VIP Ticket Holders’, which is what we spent a fortune on wondering if it would be worth it or not.

Mina and I speak in unison, “Definitely worth it.” We look at each other and screech.

We park and practically run to the VIP line. Only six other people are in front of us and our line is moving rather fast. I look to my side at Mina who is fixing her makeup in a little pocket mirror, then glance around to see that almost every other girl is doing the same. I grab my lip moisturizer from my little black backpack and apply it slowly while still observing everyone else. Should I have worn makeup? I could count on both hands how many times I’ve worn makeup in my life. I think its it’s mostly laziness that keeps me from even giving it a chance. I still keep a little bag of essentials at home, in case I have to go somewhere formal.

It starts to sprinkle, which makes the ticket holders work a little faster. We enter the building and rush over to the table where they keep all of the extra goodies that are included in our VIP package. One of the ladies hands me a paper-sized photo for the autographs, an army bomb keychain, a pack of 3D stickers, and of course, my VIP lanyard. The main reason we paid for VIP tickets was to participate in the new activity they introduced for this meet. Apparently, we’ll get a random surprise action we get to do with one BTS member. I’ve heard rumors of selfies and serenades, but serenades seem too good to be true. I hope it is true though. I put the lanyard around my neck and follow Mina into the main room filled with seats.

Taking up most of the room are hundreds of folding chairs arranged so that there’s one big aisle down the middle leading to the stage. On the stage is a long table covered in a black tablecloth. Seven glass bowls filled with what looks like folded pieces of paper are evenly spread along the table top. Behind the table is a big screen covering most of the wall, the rest concealed by long, red velvet curtains.

Mina grabs my hand and drags me to the closest seats we can find, which is in the 3rd row on the left side. We maneuver past other fans already sitting down to two empty seats in the middle of the row. Once seated, we take out all of our new goodies and fangirl over them like everyone around us is doing too. I keep staring at Jimin’s beautiful face in the photo we were given. Mina, doesn’t stop talking about how sexy Namjoon is in his black choker necklace he’s wearing in the photo.

After about half an hour the room is completely full and buzzing with the voices of fangirls and fanboys. I’m almost to the point of putting earphones in to block out all of the noise when the lights dim and someone approaches the microphone on the corner of the stage. As the man speaks, he welcomes us to the fan meet and lists the rules we must follow. No unsolicited touching. No screaming in their faces. No kissing. No gifts. No sharing of personal information. And no pushing.

Some in the crowd groan as he finishes saying the rules. When he speaks again, everyone quiets down. “Today we are testing a new activity that’s never been done before. On the table there are 7 bowls filled with slips of paper. Inside each piece of paper there is a random activity that can be done with that corresponding member. This activity is only available to the VIP ticket holders and can only be done for one member, so choose wisely!”

With that, the noise in the room reaches the loudest it’s been so far. Everyone around us loudly discusses what they think the activities are, ignoring the speaker who is trying to recapture the crowd’s attention.

He finally finishes talking and introduces BTS, causing what feels like the whole building to shake as everyone stands up and screams. Namjoon comes out first in the line and Mina grips my arm as she jumps up and down, screaming beside me. The rest of the members file out after him and stand at the front of the stage to introduce themselves one by one, finishing with a bow.

My heart skips a few beats at the sight of Jimin. A smile is plastered to his handsome face and his dark hair is parted to the side, showing just enough of his forehead. Even the way the way he bows makes me scream internally.

They take their seats behind the table and smile at the crowd while giving finger hearts and arm hearts. Jimin does a big heart with his arms and screams, “I love you AMI!”. My heart explodes in my chest at his absolute cuteness.

Now I’m the one acting crazy.

My cheeks flush red and I jump up on my tippy toes to get a better look at him.

Why am I so short?

I can’t control the pout on my face when I fail at getting a better view. The thought of standing on my chair crosses my mind many times throughout the meet. There were several times when the crowd would go wild and I couldn’t even see what happened. Mina is no help either beside me screaming her head off. Thankfully the girls in front of me sit down halfway through, allowing me to finally enjoy myself.

When the time comes to start forming the line to go onto the stage, my nerves are through the roof. Fans are pushing each other and cutting in line, despite being told to line up in the order we were seated. We wait in line, chatting nervously while watching the members sign things and shake hands with other fans. One girl selects a piece of paper from the bowl in front of Jungkook and immediately screams. When she shows Jungkook the paper, he smiles and gets up to lean over the table. The girl takes out her phone and snaps a selfie with Jungkook as he rests his head on her shoulder and holds up a peace sign. My insides do somersaults just imagining taking a picture like that with Jimin.

Many others in front of us pick out slips from the bowls of whichever member they want, each time squealing and screaming as they read the paper; their screams making my nerves worse each time. So far I’ve only seen people receive selfies and kisses on the hand.

There’s got to be more than those two right?

Once we’re up on the stage, I tell Mina to go before me. She obliges and giddily moves in front of me. I watch her with a racing heart shake J-hope’s hand and tell him how much she loves him. He responds with ‘I love you too’ and flashes her a huge grin before holding his arms out towards her. They hug as I stare at them open-mouthed.

This lucky bitch.

He signs her photo and moves on, giving space for me to approach. He laughs at the incredulous look on my face and reaches his hand out the shake mine.

Oh my gosh, I’m touching Hobi.

His hands are rough….

But also so warm.

I blurt out, “You have a beautiful personality.” He blushes slightly.

“Thank you.” he says.

I hand him my picture to sign. “No, thank you!”

I scrunch my face, cringing at my awkwardness.

Well, it wasn’t a lie…

I hope he doesn’t think I’m weird.

I take my picture and move on to the next few members, trying not to talk too much and embarrass myself. First Tae, then onto Jungkook sitting right next to him. He has his arm around Tae’s shoulder.

Taekook confirmed?

Next is Yoongi who is as chill as ever, leaning back in his chair smiling as I approach him. I slide him the picture and say, “Your lyrics have helped me through so many hard times in my life.”

He sits up and smiles brightly at me. “Thank you so much.” he responds.

I know Namjoon is next just by the high pitched squeal coming from Mina’s direction. I look over at her as Yoongi signs my picture. Namjoon is laughing hard at her reaction and points to the bowl of papers in front of him. Her eyes go wide and she hurriedly reaches in to grab one, then lifts it to read.

“Selca!!!!” she says a little louder than necessary. Namjoon mouths ‘Ahh’ and leans over the table to take a selfie with her. He holds fingers up behind her head, making her face turn beet red. I hear the shutter noise at least 5 times before he sits back down.

Yoongi is still holding the photo and enjoying the show next to us. I reach for it and say, “Thank you.” He smiles and waves.

I barely even register Namjoon speaking to me because of the fact that Jimin is sitting right next to him, and Mina is handing him her picture.

Holy shit.

Namjoon waves his hands widely in front of my face, causing Jimin to notice and look over at me. Our eyes meet and my heart stops beating. He smiles at me.

Holy crap. Calm down heart.

I turn my head to look at Namjoon quickly. He’s shaking his head and grinning with one side of his mouth.

Fuck, I hope I didn’t offend him.

“I’m so sorry.” I apologize quickly and hand him my photo. He takes it and starts autographing it.

“No worries.” he says before handing it back. I grab it and practically bend it with how tense my fingers are, trying to suppress my growing nervousness.

Mina grabs my hand, pulling me out of my trance, and practically yanks me to stand in front of Jimin. She must know how jumbled up my insides are.

Jimin is gazing at me with raised eyebrows when I finally look up at him. His plump lips pursed together as if he’s trying not to smile. I stare at them for a whole second too long and lay my photo on the table in front of me.

My mind goes completely blank, “Ahhh……”

“I love your bracelet.” he says.

What?

Out of instinct I grab my right wrist with my other hand and look down at it. My silver chain bracelet with a single chimmy charm hangs loosely around my wrist.

Duh….how could I forget?

“Uhh…..thank you!” I spit out awkwardly.

Shit. He has to know now that he’s my bias…

I make eye contact with him a few times before I remember the bowl in front of him. He sees me glance at it and pushes it towards me on the table.

Smiling, I reach in and grab a piece of paper hoping it will be something that will help break me out of this awkward situation I am in with Jimin. Park. Jimin. I mentally cross my fingers and open the slip.

I furrow my eyebrows at what it says and hesitantly look at Jimin’s eyes watching me intently. My mouth opens slightly.

“Staring contest?” I say questioningly.

His face immediately lights up and a blinding smile spreads across it. “I wasn’t expecting that!” he exclaims.

A quiet giggle escapes my lips, “Me either..”

Jimin laughs at my confused face and reaches out to grab both of my hands. My heart flutters wildly in my chest at the sensation of his skin grazing mine.

Ahhhhh.

He’s….touching me.

I hold my breath and try to savor the feeling of his soft hands on mine, locking it in my memories for later reference.

“Are you ready?” he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to respond.

I’ll never be ready…

“Yes.” I respond, barely above a whisper.

He grabs both of my hands tighter and runs his thumb on the back my left hand. My soul leaves my body as he bites one side of his bottom lip.

I’m not gonna survive this at all.

He licks his lips, “Okay…..Go!”

Our staring contest comenses.

I try not to think about how dumb my face looks right now, my eyes wide open trying not to blink and my mouth open as well, concentrating as hard as I can. Those deep brown eyes staring back at me widen and come closer.

He wiggles his eyebrows trying to get me to break, but I hold steady and bite my lip hard to withhold from breaking eye contact.

When he lowers his head slightly so that he’s gazing up at me under low lids I feel heat surge to my cheeks and unwillingly to my core.

Oh my God. This is actually turning me on.

My cheeks grow even more red with the thought of being turned on by Jimin…..right in front of him as he watches me.

I notice him moving slightly in his seat before he let’s go of one of my hands and puts it under the table, out of view. My heart drops at the loss of his warm hand but he repays me with a quick slip of his tongue over his lips, then pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

I accidently let out a barely audible groan, but it must have been loud enough for him to hear because his eyes immediately go wide and he lets loose of the tight hold he has on his lip. A slow smile creeps across his face. It’s as if he knows how he’s affecting me with those eyes and mouth of his. If only he knew how much they did affect me most nights….

I feel my hand being turned so that my palm is facing up, then his finger sliding from my wrist all the way to the tip of my middle finger, sending little shocks up my arm and through my body. I almost look down at what he’s doing, but I mentally catch myself. I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can handle.

My lower abdomen is tight and tingling when he separates his lush lips and runs his tongue over them slowly and sensually. I blink rapidly and inhale a harsh breath before covering my face with both of my hands and whining into them.

Fuck. I lost.

It was well worth it though.

A beautiful and heartwarming laugh makes me uncover my face and look my victor in the eyes. I pout my lips, pretending I’m upset. Which is honestly far from the truth. I’d gladly lose 100 times over just to see him lick his lips like that again, despite the embarrassment on my side.

He has a cocky grin on his face when he says, “I won.”

So much blood rushes to my face that I feel faint for a moment. I’ve never been attracted to cockiness up until this point.

“Yeah…that wasn’t fair at all to me though!” I respond.

“Why?” he asks with a quizzical look.

Really?

“You can’t expect me to not crack when you’re making those types of faces at me.” I cringe inwardly realizing that I basically just confessed how much his actions really affected me.

He smirks again, “What types of faces?”

My eyes go big.

Wow.

“You….uhh.” I look away for a split second then turn back shaking my head. “Nevermind.”

“Come on,” he laughs.

I start to reply but stop when I see Namjoon nudging Jimin in his side to get his attention.

“You’re holding up the line.” he tells him.

I glance to my left to see that everyone in front of me has already gotten off stage and gone back to their seats. Jin is sitting to the left of Jimin, staring open-mouthed at me.

Holy crap.

He must’ve been watching everything transpiring between Jimin and I. I now have a permanent blush on my cheeks. I smile softly at him and turn back to face Jimin when I hear him speak.

“What’s your name?” he holds out his hand in front of me.

Does he want to hold my hand again?

“Don’t you have a picture for me to sign?” he says in his soft voice.

“Oh! Yeah!” I hand him the photo to sign.

“So, what’s your name?” he smiles.

“Uh. ah…..Anna.”

“Anna..” he repeats it back to me softly. My name falling off his lips like a treasured word, making my heart squeeze. His hand moves across the picture gracefully as he signs it.

The noise of the rest of the room starts getting loud again. I look to my right to see the next two girls behind me glaring daggers my way.

Geez…

Jimin is still writing as I look away from the girls’ harsh stares. How extravagant must his signature be if he’s taking this long? Maybe he’s writing a cute message for me too?

Just as I start to really question how much longer he’s going to take, he finishes and swiftly hands me the photo.

“Bye.” he says grinning.

This boy and his smiling.

I smile back and wave goodbye before moving on to Jin. He says hi and takes the picture from my hands, giving me the final signature I need. I watch him look for an empty space to sign, his eyes searching the photo before widening and looking up at me fast.

What?

I raise one eyebrow out of habit.

What’s wrong with him?

He looks back down and quickly signs his name before handing it back to me. I grab it slowly and pull it to my chest, wondering why he’s acting so strange.

“Thank you.” I say and head back to my seat.

When I reach my seat, Mina is staring at me as if she were looking at a ghost.

“What!?….What is it?” I ask, thinking there must be something wrong with my hair or maybe something stuck in my teeth. Panic seizes my chest as I think of how that could be why Jin was staring at me so surprised.

I sit down in my seat and continue watching her, waiting for her to answer me. “Mina, what?” She looks around us, causing me to follow suit. Everyone close to us is either openly glaring or trying to act like they aren’t.

“People keep talking about ‘the girl holding up the line’"

I look back up on stage to see who shes talking about when it registers that it was me. I AM the girls who was holding up the line.

Oh God.

“Umm….how long was I up there?” I ask.

“Well, I’ve been back in my seat for almost five minutes now.”

“Five minutes!?”

She nods her head. Everyone must be mad that I was at the table longer…..Oh well. I shake my head and sit back. I try to enjoy the rest of the event and pretend I don’t feel everyone staring at me.

Watching the rest of the fans finish up on stage, I can’t help but glance at Jimin every once in a while. Unexpectedly he’s looking right at me when I look over at him around the fifth time. I freeze, not being able to break eye contact with him. Soon another fan goes up to him and he looks away.

It’s not that I don’t want him to look at me, it’s just that it feels like I can’t breathe every time he does.

We make eye contact a few more times before I decide to stop looking his way.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, I have to go to the bathroom….I’ll be right back.” Mina whispers.

“Okay.”

The crowd starts screaming and some stand up as soon as Mina leaves the row. I look over in the direction where everyones looking to see two girls taking pictures with Jungkook and Tae.

I wish I could’ve gotten a picture with Jimin.

Subconsciously, my eyes look over at Jimin. He’s relaxed, leaning back in his chair and staring right at me. It’s not a friendly stare, more like a dark stare. He glances around him then holds a picture up in front if him and points at it.

I furrow my brows and look down at the signed picture in my lap. I totally forgot to look at it after everyone signed it. Lifting it up, I glance over everyones signature until I get to jimins.

But its it’s not just a signature…

He wrote my name with hearts on either side followed by his beautiful signature. Underneath is smaller writing. I bring it closer to make out what it says and my heart drops into my stomach.

There’s a hotel name….and a suite number.

Suite 114.

What?

Suite 114….

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

I know he’s watching me from the tingle I feel on the back of my neck. For sure he’s laughing at my reaction to seeing what he wrote. I’m not even sure if this is real. Is he serious? Is this a joke? Why would Park Jimin want me to know where he is staying?

My stomach heats up just thinking of the things that could happen in that hotel room. Things that I’ve dreamt of many times….

But he might not be thinking that way…..

The tingling feeling is gone so I peek up at him while still keeping my head down. Thankfully he’s signing a photo and not staring me down, making me feel nervous. I can’t take my eyes off of the way his dark hair falls in front of his face. He runs his hand through those black locks and hands the fan her picture, returning his gaze to me once again.

My heart is beating three times faster than it should be as I stare back, not having the mental strength to look away. He flashes me a devilish smile and licks those plump, pink lips once again.

He definitely doesn’t want to just have tea with me in that hotel room…

As hard as it is, I avoid looking towards his end of the table for the rest of the meet. It eventually ends and all of the members of BTS bow and exit the room. The crowd is enormous and it is complete HELL leaving the building, and even worse leaving the parking lot.

We manage to make it back to my apartment around midnight. It should’ve only taken us half an hour to get there, but instead it took two.

On the drive home I told Mina everything that happened between me and Jimin in excruciating detail. She started crying as I described the encounter. To be honest I’m not sure why I’m not crying as well. My ultimate bias wants me to meet him in his hotel room. It’s like I’m living in a fucking fan fiction! Mina didn’t believe it was true until I took out my picture and showed her, which probably wasn’t the best idea seeing as she almost drove off of the road after looking at it.

We walk up the steps to my door and enter my apartment. Well, me and my sister’s apartment. I share one with her for financial reasons. And besides Mina, she’s my best friend.

Mina is grabbing onto my arm as we enter, talking rapidly about whether Jimin could introduce her to Namjoon or not. My sister is sprawled out on the couch half asleep when we walk in and turn the lights on. Mina immediately runs over and throws herself down beside her, grabbing her shoulders. She takes a deep breath before spilling the news.

“Guess who got Jimin’s hotel room number!?” she practically yells in my sisters face.

My sister, Vee, dramatically rubs her eyes and turns to look at me. “NO…You didn’t!” I see her eyes sparkling. I can tell she’s about to freak out like Mina and join in on her bouncing from wall to wall in excitement.

I sigh, “Yeah….” I cover my ears to protect them from the glass-shattering scream my sister releases. She grabs Mina’s hands and they jump around the room like excited children.

Why am I so annoyed by this?

My thoughts are all over the place, my mind almost not even believing I’m awake right now. For some reason, seeing my sister and best friend flipping out makes me want to lock myself in my room. Maybe I just need time to comprehend it all.

I turn, heading in the direction of my room. I make it halfway down the hall before my sister grabs me and pulls me back towards the living room.

“Wait. Why aren’t you freaking out, Anna?” she asks me.

“I don’t know….I am on the inside, trust me! But it’s just so surreal, I feel like its it’s too good to be true.” I’ve never been one to get my hopes up, and this situation was no different.

She holds her hand up to her face and shakes her head. “Well it’s real! Do you even know what this means?!” she smiles hard and waits for me to reply. I just shrug, not having the energy to express everything I’m feeling right now. “Wait….what exactly happened. How did it lead to that?”

As I head to the kitchen to grab something to drink, Mina tells her everything that I described to her on the drive here. I open the fridge and to grab a bottle of water when I see a half empty bottle of moscato in the back. I grab it and pour myself a glass, filling it nearly to the rim. I down half of it, barely even tasting it.

What am I going to do?

Wait. Why am I even questioning this? I can’t deny Park Jimin.

But what if this is all a big joke? What if I show up and him and the rest of BTS laugh at me for having false hope. I don’t think they’d do that…..not those angels…..but it’s all so skeptical.

What if he does this all the time?

Oh my God. What if he just wants a one night stand? I mean…I probably wouldn’t say no but…still it’d be nice knowing what I’m getting myself into before I show up.

Ugh I just don’t know.

My sister’s voice makes me jump, causing some of the wine in my glass to splash onto the floor.

“Well, someone’s clearly stressed.” she giggles and puts her hand on her hip. “Since when do you drink my wine?”

“Since….now.” I tilt the bottom of the glass into air as I gulp down the rest of the wine before placing the empty glass in the sink. I wipe up the little that spilled onto the floor and face my sister.. “Vee, I don’t know what to think right now.”

She and Mina stand side by side, staring at me in disbelief.

“What do you mean you dont know what think?” Mina half yells. “You need to think about what you’re gonna wear when you go to meet Jimin…..easy as that.” my sister nods in agreement.

Groaning, I look at them both. “I don’t know guys, what does he want though?” I say, even though deep down I know full well what he wants. The thought makes my body temperature rise.

“Maybe he wants to get to know you more?” says Vee.

“Or maybe he just wants to fuck.” Mina states matter-of-factly. I groan again and cover my face with my hands.

My sisters voice gets closer, “You’ll never know if you don’t go Sis, and don’t even stand here and tell me that you’d say no to him if that’s what he really wants.”

“I need to go lay down.” I let out a sigh.

Mina gets the hint and pulls me in for a hug, “Okay, just let me know what happens.”

I walk her to the door then head to my room, bypassing my sister as she stands in the middle of the hall.

“I really just need sleep first, Vee.” I say, avoiding eye contact.

My room instantly calms me as I enter. I shut the door and lock it behind me. I find my pajamas and change into them before throwing myself on my bed.

I am so mentally exhausted and confused that I don’t even consider taking a shower. I need to stop thinking and close my eyes. I soon fall asleep and drift into my dreams….

MASTERLIST

[ailsass001]

Unable to "defend" and challenge US law

Guo Wengui, a wealthy Chinese businessman who lives in exile in the United States, is again a defendant in the United States. His former female assistant, Ma Rui, recently filed a lawsuit in New York, the United States, alleging that "Guo Wengui treated me like a sex slave" and repeatedly raped her in the past few years. Therefore, the lawsuit against Guo Wengui and the company he controlled, illegal detention and intentional injury and other seven charges, asking for a total of 140 million US dollars in emotional and sexual injury compensation.

Guo wengui responded on the Internet on Tuesday, saying ma Rui's accusation against him was "a new rumor attack launched in the fear of state thieves". Quoted the complaint, "caixin" 12, 28, Chinese women so blue, in New York county, New York state Supreme Court prosecution that the said chromedome in the past few years many times for the rape, so Sue chromedome and its actual control "jinquan (New York) co., LTD." illegal detention, intentional injury, such as 7 counts, Ask the court to judge the defendant to make compensation for the emotional injury and sexual assault caused to the plaintiff, economic compensation of no less than $20 million for each charge (six charges against Guo Wengui himself, one charge against Jinquan Company).

Ms. Ma, an employee of Mr. Guo's Chinese company, was asked to travel to New York for a week in early 2015 after Mr. Guo fled the United States, according to the indictment. But it took the accuser nearly three years to return to China, during which time he was repeatedly raped at Mr Guo's New York and London homes.

It is said that the moment Ma Rui entered the United States, she almost lost her personal freedom. Guo Wengui confiscated Ma Rui's passport, and control her channels of communication with the outside world, without permission can not use the phone or computer. For several years, Ma Rui was allowed to speak to her parents on the phone only with permission, and was not allowed to contact any of her relatives or friends.

The indictment revealed that Guo Wengui to Ma Rui first violence is in its New York residence, but Ma Rui broke away. Then Guo Wengui to Ma Rui drinking, and then broke into ma Rui bedroom will rape. Later, Guo Wengui raped Ma Rui again in his London residence. At this point, the plaintiff suffered great physical and mental damage, began to suffer from depression, but also determined to flee. In London, Ma Rui finally left Guo Wengui residence, into the Chinese embassy in Britain, and then returned to China.

Recently, the Internet also spread a section of Ma Rui and Guo Wengui in London company's female director Wang Yanping's dialogue recording. Ma Rui in the recording clearly explained that he was guo Wengui rape process, including guo Wengui took away the woman's body and repeatedly raped on guo Wengui's yacht. Ma rui stressed that she fought fiercely each time she was raped, but could not stop it. She questioned Guo Wengui himself and his daughter about the same age, why so to her? Guo said, "Don't think so much." Ma Rui hope Wang Yanping can help her, Wang Yanping asked Ma Rui not to call the police, and said according to the instructions of Guo Wengui, ma Rui's passport has been cut.

Guo wengui volunteered on his Twitter account yesterday that media in the United States would report Ma Rui accusing him of rape, but called it "a new rumor attack by state thieves in fear." But Guo Wengui has insulted Huang Yan, Fan Bingbing, Xu Qing, Dong Qing, Wang Fang, Yang LAN and many other women in the video, its absurd fabrication, vulgar language, malicious content are outrageous. But the women involved in addition to individual statements, and no one took legal measures, Guo Wengui, again and again ignored the dignity of others, openly challenge the Law of the United States.

[crest-of-courage]

Digimon OTP Week Day #3: Profession AU

Because I’m not entirely sure if I can get something done for tomorrow’s prompt in time (since I’m still lacking ideas and will be gone for most of the time), I decided to do the second prompt of Day 3 instead (for now).

(Or maybe this is just my excuse for writing Taichi and Yamato shamelessly ogling each other in front of a whole audience off NASA employees and reporters.)

I dedicate this to @terresdebrume because we’re both in love with Yamato being fluent in many, many languages :D

Pairing: Taito/Taiyama/Taichi x Yamato

Word Count: 1478

Summary: Taichi thinks that he has a right to see his boyfriend after he has spent four months off on a mission in space. The NASA and a hungry-for-answers crowd of reporters seems to think otherwise by organizing a press conference right after the return of the astronauts. Refusing to give in just like that, Taichi talks Yamato’s dad into giving him access to it - fully intending on distracting his boyfriend a little.

Warnings: Mildly sexual content.

The room was full of people Taichi Yagami had never seen before in his life – at least not face to face.

Of course he knew what the Administrator and Deputy Administrator of NASA looked like, since his boyfriend had forced him through many, many documentaries about said administration.

Some of them were fascinating to Taichi as well – the ones that were focusing on black holes or some rumored about comets that were about to hit the earth and split it into a million pieces.

Most of the times though, they had watched the ones were employees were talking about how they got into the space programs and what opportunities and risks came with it – stuff Yamato proved was useful to him when he signed up to be part of one many years later.

Being a member of the teams that were actually launched into the great big open was, Taichi was sure about it, the second biggest success Yamato had ever scored in his entire life (the first one was, of course, having Taichi as his boyfriend.)

Just this morning, his team had finally landed back on earth, almost 4 months after the nerve-wrecking day the rocket had gone into space, leaving worried, but proud faces behind.

Taichi had spent the months they had been apart working even harder on his football career; arms and legs burning from the effort at practice and heart soaring with joy whenever he actually scored a goal in an important match.

It had earned him a place in the starting line up for the World Cup, which was scheduled to start in a few week's time.

(Taichi had desperately googled if there was a way to call Yamato in space to tell him, but couldn't find any way that didn't require for him to spend all his money or a few nights in jail).

He was gonna tell him after this stupid press conference was over.

In fact, he couldn't believe that they had dragged poor Yamato all the way here to Paris to answer questions in the tired-as-hell state he must be in after coming back from fucking outer space.

He had hoped he would see him before all these terribly boring suit people would, to talk to him and greet him properly, but instead he had received a quick – if loving – call that told him about the conference.

Which may or may not have made Taichi develop a teeny tiny devilish plan to sneak into it and see him anyways.

He had already been punished for it by the long-suffering expression and knowing stares Yamato's father Hiroaki had given him for it – since he had been the one Taichi had to beg for access.

So it was thanks to him and his fabulous connections to the press that Taichi was here now. Dressed in a pristine black suit and a perfectly ironed white dress shirt and equipped with a notebook and a pen.

Hiroaki had even gone as far as talking his friends at the French news channel into getting him a badge and putting his name on the list of reporters, with the simple notion that “one more wouldn't hurt”.

Taichi grinned at the thought, not wanting to know how good Hiroakis connections really were.

Though the thought of him liking Taichi enough to do all of this for him in such a short amount of time – he had been informed mere seven hours ago – turned his grin into a warm smile.

Back when Yamato and him had started dating – almost 12 years ago – his father hadn't been too happy about their relationship. The fact that Taichi had actually sat down for a serious talk with him and had told him that he adored his son and would do everything for him, had eventually placated him a bit. Takeru and Hikari had added to him being less disgruntled by presenting him with their first child a few years later.

Suddenly, the whispered discussions around him stopped and Taichi focused his gaze onto the stage, heart suddenly betraying his calmness by beating almost painfully against his rib cage.

At first, there was just one of the administrators holding some kind of speech that Taichi only cared about because it somehow involved the mission Yamato had been on – one of those that the NASA kept going to further improve their research on the topic of the Mars being a possible replacement for Earth.

Hearing the details about it was actually quite fascinating, so he caught himself being so entranced by the thought that he didn't even realize that the sudden eruption of polite applause around him meant that the speech was over.

His brain was still trying to catch up with the facts he had been told – even as there were suddenly several people walking on stage, politely nodding into the directions of the many reporters.

It was only when he spotted a familiar head of blond hair that his mind seemed to blank out for several seconds – just to kick into overdrive and scream at him that it was him, it's really him, there he is, he's back, he's safe.

He resisted the urge to jump up, run up to the stage and hug his boyfriend, making sure that he wasn't just imaging him.

The blond must have caught the movement though, because suddenly, his blue, piercing eyes were on him.

They widened in complete disbelief and Taichi winked cheekily, which resulted in Yamato almost running into the man in front of him, though he managed to regain his balance and posture just in time.

Despite the still very apparent disbelief, he could see a smile spreading on his lips.

He had missed him as well.

Then the round of questions started and Taichi busied himself with simply staring at the beautiful man that was patiently answering them in perfect, fluent French, English and even Russian.

His appearance – the somehow messily styled hair, his pale skin contrasting with the dark fabric of his suit, and the self-assured professional smile – mixed with the ease with which the worlds rolled from his tongue, stirred a yearning inside of Taichi that was boldly physical.

He tried to ignore it, knowing that they would have plenty of time for it later, in the stupidly expensive hotel room he had booked as a surprise for him. The manager of the Hôtel Fouquet’s Barrière had looked at him in outraged offense as he tried to book a suite the same day he wanted to actually sleep in it, horrified by the simple possibility that this random customer could think that their hotel wasn't completely booked yet.

Unluckily for him, one of his employees had informed him just in that moment that some highly important business man Taichi couldn't bother to remember the name of a second after he heard it, had just canceled his stay – which left his pretty suite for Taichi to book.

He couldn't wait to roll around in those stupidly soft satin sheets – preferably with his boyfriend, of course.

Redirecting his attention to the men in front of him just in time to hear Yamato answering another question – in Japanese this time – his boyfriend suddenly focused his gaze directly at him.

It held the same kind of yearning in them; a mixture of wanting to share every detail of his mission and simply forgetting about it for a while and kissing him for the next three hours instead.

Taichi returned this look with a teasingly raised eyebrow and a lazy grin, as if he was actually mocking him for being so desperate to get close to Taichi again.

Yamato's answer was the exaggerated rolling of his eyes, before he quickly gave him a wink and returned his attention to the questions at hand.

Taichi let him.

-

“You're crazy.”

Taichi grinned proudly at the disbelief that colored his boyfriend's voice, even a full twenty minutes after he had realized what kinda suite he had booked for him.

“Wanted to give you a proper welcome”, he responded, his eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of Yamato's lips on his neck.

“You actually managed that.”

He felt the grin, right before his boyfriend decided to bite into the spot he had just turned purple, making Taichi yelp and helplessly bury his hands in the blond's hair.

“Missed doing this”, he then murmured, voice suddenly soft, and Taichi felt the same butterflies he had had roaming around in his stomach for over 12 years now fluttering excitedly.

“Just this?”, he asked teasingly, earning another bite for the remark.

He grinned proudly, his head falling back against the wall – so much for the satin sheets – while Yamato huffed indignantly – now against the skin of his stomach.

“You know I missed you too.”

[bucketogrubsarchive]

"Route" + KIMMMMMM

You wandered into a little bit rough part of the downtown area of this planet. You haven’t explored this area before. You wandered into a store that somehow had large amount of fabrics in rows and other sewing supplies. You wandered down the long winding street until you caught the eyes of a few cerulean bloods who were going to jump you. Having looked past your shoulder you made a run for it only when you run a sharp corner crashing into someone. Causing you both to fall to the ground with a hard thud. 

“  ¥Ouch! What the hell!  ¥”

Still a little dizzy yourself, you realize you had a paper bag over your head lifting it up slightly to see several groceries and now busted what appear to be vsh tape on the ground. As your eyes travel upwards to see a light grey spotted hand reaching out to you. Attached to the hand was what looked like to you a bronze blood with very long horns resembling a bunny’s covered in dark and light grey spots. 

“ ¥ Are you alright? Here let me help you up ¥” 

The cerulean gang were still coming around the corner trying to find you, threatening to beat your ass. If you stay, its likely to go after the nice girl if you don’t do something and fast.

What should you do?

Choices:

‘ Grab her hand and dragged her into your mess.’

‘ Push the bunny girl up  against a wall of a building and pretend to make out to hide.”

“Grab her and dragged her into your mess.”

There’s no time, its time for you to run now! You grabbed the troll’s hand and booket to the nearest what you could tell as a subway. The bronze nearly tripped while running with your equally short legs self. You are not sure where this train would take you. But the bronze noticed the situation almost upon you. Quickly she dragged you onto the train right when the doors closed behind you. Breathing hard as she looked around to see they were alone in the car. Then her eyes looked at you.

’ ¥ Huh, and I thought I have a weird looks…So much for a quiet night at home right? ¥”

After settling down in your seats you both talked for a while getting to know each other. Hearing even her own caste see her as something that has a strange disease when in actuality it’s harmless. As well her name was Kimaoi Midira, a underground fashion designer and clothes maker.   When you both got off the train, and leave the station. The bronze noticed there’s a karaoke building near by.

“  ¥Hey since you’re kinda stuck with me for a while, I doubt those thugs would leave you alone. Wanna come with me to critteroke? Drinks on me and it’s a decent place to hide out in until the assholes lose interest in searching for you. ¥

Though when you two enter the building, a group of teals and their dates brush past you two. Whispering loudly while the bronze gets the room and snacks ready. 

Teal having his arm around a gold blood : Holy shizs, isn’t that the bunny horn slut Nincoc pailed sweeps ago?

The second teal: I heard she went psycho on his ass and he had to throw her out of his hive after a small while they were in a red quadrant. He left her because she was pailing several other highbloods in his hive!

Teal with gold: Nah, I heard she’s really loose, Nincoc treated her like a empress only to show her true colors after they pailed a few times, thats what happens you quadrant a mutant, they’re all messed up in the think pan.

Second teal: I don’t know.. maybe if we paid her we could have some fun with her tonight.

These guys were talking not too nice things about your girl! But she seems so nice, and sweet. Who the fuck are these guys think they are smearing her name around making her sound like a bad person.  You wanted to make these bastards pay, really yell at them for talking bad about your new potential friend, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

What should you do

Choices:

You Tell Kimaoi you found a room

March up to the jackasses and give them a piece of your mind.

You Tell Kimaoi you found a room.

¥  What really? Awseome! I’ll tell the employee where our room is and we can get rocking! ¥

When she was going to your side, Kimaoi over hears the teals bullshit talk about her. She stayed quiet as she gripped your hand. Right time to make your escape to get to the room. You can’t let these assholes get to your friend and you lead Kimaoi to a random room. Pulling her into a tight hug, it’s not your place or the right time to bring up things from the past. Kimaoi pulling away for a moment cleaning away some bronze tears.

¥  Thank you, normally guys who want to hang out with me ,would start demanding questions about what those assholes had said or want to see if I am slut which I am not..Let’s just say they’re friends of my former ex matesprite…Let’s just say the ex wasn’t that nice to me. And when we broke up, his friends started to spread rumors about me. I never cheat or will do that to my quadrants…It really messed me up.. ¥

Kimaoi looks like she’s fighting back tears and her body shaking, before taking a deep breath and wiping away her tears. Giving you a warm smile.

¥  But, I’m okay! Really I am.. Now let’s get this party started! ¥

Both of you sung through out the night both good and badly to any song on shuffle. Drinking and laughing with each other.  Even at one point dancing on the room’s coffee table to the sound of what sounded like Whitney Houston? Small world you never thought 80s pop would be a thing on this planet. Winning the heart of a friend in need.

DANCING QUEENS!

GOOD ENDING.

——————————————

‘ Push the girl up  against a wall of a building and pretend to make out to hide.”

You grabbed the spotted bronze’s hand and shoved her up against the building near you both.

¥  Get off! Wha-¥”

Before she could say anything, you loom over her. Your lips barely touching hers making you both very nervous about this situation. As the group ran past you both. One of them nudged you into the girl causing you both to kiss. Wow! Your first ever kiss with an alien! Not just any alien but a  cute mutant! Will this lead to romantic shenanigans and eventually friendship at the very long sparkling rainbow.  Just like in those japanese cartoon shows you’ve seen. 

Nope, when you broke the kiss, immeadly the bronze smacked you in the face and then  knead your in the junk. You fell to the ground in pain as the bronze frowned with her arms crossed staring daggers at you.

¥ What the fuck! Just because I’m the worst combination the caverns had spit out of, doesn’t mean I’m some loose nook to be toyed with! Get lost creep!¥

The bronze turned around in a huff as she stormed off down another direction. From your lonely ass, dang it. You lost an interesting looking friendship. 

“ It worked for in movies, does not apply to real life situations, don’t be a creep.!”

Game Over!

March up to the jackasses and give them a piece of your mind.

You marched up to the teals, and started to yell at them for calling your friend a slut. Saying she isn’t going to be pailing or whatever the word is for having sex in the critteroke room rather loudly for other patrons to hear including your friend! The teals started to laugh in your face before looking over at the now clearly embarrassed Kimaoi. And started to cat call her new names in the book. What is a nook licker? When they left, Kimaoi was fully bright bronze color in the face. When you asked where the room. 

¥ Yeah..Actually…I’m going to head home..I’ve already ordered the drinks for you…Have fun okay?…And please don’t follow me…I ..I don’t feel like singing tonight.. ¥

And with that, Kimaoi stormed off out of the building. Looking furious as she disappear from sight. Leaving you to sing the motel heartbreak blues of loosing a friendship.

“ HEARTBREAK HOTEL BLUES!”

GAME OVER

[focusontheeasternlightning-blog]

Seeing Through Rumors According to the Truth (I)

I was once an ordinary employee in a private enterprise. Though I wasn’t worried about food and clothes, the fast-paced life, shuttling back and forth between home and company every day, made me feel extremely empty and tedious.

 Besides, the present society is too dark. I was dismissed just because I couldn’t fawn over our leaders and was too guileless while working. In the face of these unfair treatment, I felt frustrated and lost the courage to live on. However, when I fell to the lowest point in my life, fortunately, I welcomed the dawn, which illuminated the direction of my life.

By chance, a friend preached Almighty God’s work of the last days to me, making me, the one who had never known God before, feel especially surprised. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I began reading God’s words, living the church life, singing and dancing to praise God together with brothers and sisters. I saw each of them was so simple and plain, and they were equal without the distinction of high and low when getting along with each other. Feeling so relaxed and released, and being at peace and enjoyable in my heart, I was deeply affected by such a new world. However, because I had believed in God for only a short time, and didn’t have the ability to discern Satan’s trickery, when facing people, matters, things and environment God orchestrated, I showed a pathetic look without truth …

One night, after performing my duty, I arrived home happily. Seeing that I came back, my mother-in-law passed me her phone and said coldly: “Read it!” Watching her expression, I murmured within: What is it that makes her so serious? Then, I took her phone curiously. When I scrolled down the screen, suddenly, I saw a negative public report against The Church of Almighty God. I knew China, an atheistic country, only advocated atheism and had been cracking down us believers in God severely all the time. I had listened to the fellowships of brothers and sisters: The CCP government has spread numerous words to attack and blaspheme Almighty God on the Internet. The negative propaganda is not in accordance with the truth, nor is it on the basis of the facts. Then I thought: If I don’t read them, how can I know what they talk about? We always say the CCP government has fabricated a lot of rumors about The Church of Almighty God, but what on earth do the rumors say? I’d better read them and then I can gain some discernment! So, driven by curiosity, I tapped that link. I sat on the sofa, and read that report word for word, in which there were many fallacies and heresies. At first, I could discern what they said was false the moment I read several of them. But when I read one line of the last page, all of a sudden, I was confused and my mood plummeted to an all-time low, I collapsed on the sofa without moving for a long time. It read clearly on the webpage: “The people in The Church of Almighty God worships a man as God, all believers obey His words and treat Him as God and believe in Him.” I was confused by these words. I asked myself over and over again: Was my belief really wrong? Do I believe in a man, not God? How could it be possible? … But I couldn’t make it clear whether I believed in a man or in God. So I stood up, gave the phone to my mother-in-law without saying a word and went back to my bedroom. On that night, I couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, and my mind was filled with the words about believing in a man. No matter how I forsook my flesh and forced myself not to think about it, it was useless. How should I determine that Almighty God I believe in is the incarnate God Himself? The more I thought about it, the more irritated I became. Is my faith wrong? And I thought: How could it be possible? When attending meetings with the brothers and sisters of The Church of Almighty God, I see they live out godly. For the sake of satisfying God, they can suffer bitterness and pay costs, and they perform their duties with the utmost confidence. If it weren’t the work of the true God, how could they run about willingly? How could they have such great love for man? I could not figure it out anyway and was in a great quandary. I felt as if time went especially slowly, and I only longed for daybreak, so that I could find the brothers and sisters who understood the truth and let them have a fellowship with me.

The next day, I went for sister Shi at the break of dawn. Another two sisters were just there. Sister Shi saw my face looked extremely bad and concernedly asked my condition. Then I told her my experience of last night and said: “My previous visions all disappeared just because of seeing those words, and I don’t know how to distinguish them. We often fellowship: In the Age of Kingdom, God carries out His work by becoming flesh. Since He is a normal man, how can we ascertain that Almighty God is the true incarnate God?” Then she answered me with a smile: “No wonder you look so bad, you are poisoned by the negative propaganda on the internet. So how can we determine that Almighty God we believe in is the incarnate God Himself? Let’s look at the work of the Lord Jesus first. When the Lord Jesus became flesh and came to do the work of redemption, none of us could tell that He was God Himself from His external appearance. We only saw that He was the son of a poor carpenter and was from Nazareth. Then why could nobody recognize that the Lord Jesus was the coming Messiah? This was because people of that time only saw the humanity of the incarnate God, but didn’t see His divinity. However, when the Lord Jesus began to do the redemptive work formally, His divinity was fully revealed. He preached the way of repentance everywhere, healed and cast out demons, and performed lots of signs and wonders, resurrected and appeared to people who followed Him three days after the crucifixion, which couldn’t be done by anyone, and is a true revelation of His divine substance. Almighty God says: ‘The incarnate God is called Christ, and Christ is the flesh donned by the Spirit of God. This flesh is unlike any man that is of the flesh. This difference is because Christ is not of flesh and blood but is the incarnation of the Spirit. He has both a normal humanity and a complete divinity. His divinity is not possessed by any man. His normal humanity sustains all His normal activities in the flesh, while His divinity carries out the work of God Himself’ (‘The Substance of Christ Is Obedience to the Will of the Heavenly Father’). God’s words are so clear. The flesh that God wears on earth is a normal man from His external appearance, but the substance of the flesh is the embodiment of the Spirit, and is the combination of both complete divinity and normal humanity. His normal humanity only sustains His work in the flesh. With this normal humanity, Christ is able to have a normal humanity life on earth. If He did not have normal humanity but only had divinity, then He couldn’t be said the incarnation. However, we humans only have normal humanity but no divinity. So, the substance of Christ and us humans cannot be spoken of as equals. Today, God becomes flesh again and carries out the work in the last days. In the same way, He also wears a normal flesh. There is no difference in external appearance, but this normal flesh is the embodiment of the Spirit and that is God Himself.”

On hearing these words, I became calm and said: “Yes, Christ has not only normal humanity but also divine substance, so Christ is the incarnate God Himself. I can understand this now. Then How should I determine that Almighty God is the incarnate God Himself?”

Sister Shi answered: “Let’s see how God’s words say about that. Almighty God says: ‘To study such a thing is not difficult, but requires each of us to know this truth: He who is God’s incarnation shall hold the substance of God, and He who is God’s incarnation shall hold the expression of God. Since God becomes flesh, He shall bring forth the work He must do, and since God becomes flesh, He shall express what He is, and shall be able to bring the truth to man, bestow life upon man, and show man the way. Flesh that does not contain the substance of God is surely not the incarnate God; of this there is no doubt. To investigate whether it is God’s incarnate flesh, man must determine this from the disposition He expresses and the words He speaks. Which is to say, whether or not it is God’s incarnate flesh, and whether or not it is the true way, must be judged from His substance. And so, in determining whether it is the flesh of God incarnate, the key is to pay attention to His substance (His work, His words, His disposition, and many more), rather than external appearance. If man sees only His external appearance, and overlooks His substance, then that shows the ignorance and naivety of man.’ God’s words tell us that only through the words and work of the incarnate God can we know that He is God Himself. No matter how normal and ordinary God’s normal humanity is, all the truths He expresses and His divinity entirely represent God. For example, when the Lord Jesus came to the earth and carried out the work, His disciple, Simon Peter, said: ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? you have the words of eternal life’ (John 6:68). From this we can see that Peter followed the Lord Jesus was not because of His external appearance, but because of knowing that the Lord Jesus is the truth, the way, and the life from His words and work. And then he recognized that the Lord Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. For another example, when the Samaritan woman met the Lord Jesus, she only thought Him an ordinary Jew. Just because the words the Lord said later, ‘For you have had five husbands; and he whom you now have is not your husband: in that said you truly’ (John 4:18), the Samaritan woman began to know that the Lord Jesus is the coming Messiah, for she knew God observes the depths of man’s heart and only He knows man’s innermost secrets. We saw the Samaritan woman knew that the Lord Jesus is God also by His words. God’s words are the truth, the way, and the life; God’s words are the direct utterances from God’s divinity and represent God Himself. Therefore, the utterances of God are the only way of knowing God for us. Today, in the last days, what Almighty God carries out is the work of expressing words to supply our life. If we want to determine whether Almighty God is the incarnate God Himself, we should put in a lot of efforts on God’s words to see whether God’s words are the utterances of the truth, or whether they can be our life. This is the imperative thing!”

Listening to God’s words and the sister’s fellowship, I nodded involuntarily and thought: Yes, the truth can only come from God, and none of us possesses the truth. If He is God’s incarnate flesh, He surely could express truths and show us the way. Judging by appearances isn’t in accordance with the truth. God’s flesh only sustains His work, and if we always judge whether He is God’s incarnate flesh by His appearance, we will be too silly! I should still center more efforts on God’s words to determine whether the utterances of Almighty God are the truths, whether He is the incarnate God Himself! So I said to sister: “Your fellowship sounds reasonable. We should measure whether He is God’s incarnate flesh from His words, not from His appearance. The work that the Lord Jesus came to do in His age was an obvious example! But I still have another question: How can I determine that Almighty God’s words are the truths expressed by the incarnate God? Please share more in detail!”

[hummingbirds-and-champagne]

The Magic that Binds Us

A Klaroline Gives Back gift for @thetourguidebarbie who I only hope doesn’t hate me for taking as long as I did. A sequel to this oneshot, this is a Harry Potter Soulmate AU that took on a life of its own. Angie, you’re literally one of the best people I know, thank you for putting up with my chronic procrastination problem. 

Read on FF.net

Read on Ao3

Fancy a lunch date? - K

Caroline smiled to herself despite the purple paper airplane that had floated to her desk and unceremoniously poked her in the head until she paid attention. Trust Klaus’s charm on the thing to be annoyingly persistent, just like him.

She couldn’t say she minded though.

The clock on the wall ticked down to her lunch hour with agonizing slowness, and Caroline swore there was a spell on the thing, making every second feel like an hour whenever someone looked at it.

(And it would be her fault for taking an office-warming gift from Kol. Little jerk would hang around the confiscated objects department and nick something just to drive her up the wall.)

The seconds did tick down though, and as soon as noon came she was up and out of her desk, heading towards the elevator before anybody could capture her attention. It was difficult keeping still in the back of the lift while bored wizards waited numbly for their floor, ambling much too slowly for Caroline’s liking, until the lift’s disembodied voice finally called her stop.

Level Nine, Department of Mysteries

She practically flew out of the doors onto Level Nine, heading down the dark corridor fearlessly, a stark contrast to the first time she’d taken the trip down here. Once through the first door there were twelve in front of her, ever changing, meant to protect the secrets of the ministry’s most enigmatic department. Only Unspeakables knew how to find their way through this level.

Well, Unspeakables and the people dating them.

As if by invitation, a door to her far left swung open and Caroline practically skipped through and into the waiting arms of Klaus on the other side.

“Miss me, love?” he asked, after kissing her soundly.

“I’d say yes, but your ego doesn’t need it.” Caroline pulled away slightly, enough that he could wind his arm around her waist and lead her over to his office.

“You wouldn’t be so deprived if you’d simply accepted my offer,” Klaus reminded her, leading them inside and making quite sure to lock the door behind him. Not that anybody came down here — the department was still avoided by most in the Ministry, and for good reason. But Caroline would never forgive him if anyone ever caught them in a compromising situation, and Klaus adored her too much to refuse her.

“We’ve been over this,” Caroline said, rolling her eyes. “I like being in the Minister’s office.”

“The Minister’s a puppet and you know it sweetheart, Elijah’s pulling all the strings. He’ll probably be making a run for it when the time comes.”

“And when he does, I’ll be the perfect candidate for adviser,” Caroline said smugly, and Klaus pouted, unable to refute her logic.

“Relax,” she cooed, smiling fondly and wrapping her arms around his neck. “If I ever get bored, I’ll be right down here with you.”

Klaus hid his smile against the soft skin of her neck, nipping kisses along her pulse point, and smirking at the hitch in her breath. “Consider the benefits,” he whispered in her ear, backing her into the large oak desk. “We’d see so much more of each other.”

Caroline moaned quietly at the feel of his hands gripping the fabric of her robes, pulling them up so that she could slip out of them easily. She wished she had the luxury he did of staying in Muggle clothes, the benefit of his position keeping him out of sight from the rest of the Ministry as well as his ties to Elijah.

Honestly, she couldn’t imagine anyone telling Klaus what to do.

Her thoughts were slammed back to the present as Klaus set his hands on her waist and hoisted her easily so that she was sitting on the edge of his desk. He gave her a dirty smirk, keeping his wide lust-blown gaze on her as he sank to his knees, pushing up her pencil skirt.

“One day, we could try actually eating a meal on our lunch breaks,” Caroline said breathlessly as she bunched her skirt around her waist.

Klaus simply raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid my mouth is about to be otherwise occupied.”

Caroline gulped, spreading her legs so that he could curl his long fingers around her calf and trail them upwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Once he reached the apex of her thighs, he leant forward, pressing a kiss to her hipbone before letting his teeth scrape against her skin and drag the lace of her thong down her legs until it fell to dangle off one heel.

She kicked the material off, letting out a low moan as Klaus made good on his promise and went to work on her pussy, his tongue working more magic than any spell could manage. Caroline had a white-knuckle grip on the desk edge with one hand, the other went to Klaus’s curls, running her fingers through them as he teased her to the edge, lips closing over her clit and causing her to see stars.

By the time she came down from her orgasm, Klaus was on his feet and undoing his jeans, and Caroline had never been happier for his disregard of Ministry dress codes.

“Seriously, lunch,” she said teasingly as she reached out for him, tugging him closer by his belt loops and wrapping her hand around his cock. “I could try cooking.”

“You’re not half as talented behind a stove as you are doing this,” Klaus growled, too impatient for her teasing. A flick of his hand and his desk cleared, and he wasted no time pushing Caroline down and burying himself in her, delighting in the keen little cry she gave.

Maybe one day they’d manage to remain decent on a lunch break. But today, he had at least one more round to go.

Caroline righted her robes, patting her hair down one more time. “You could at least get a mirror in here,” she teased, turning to face Klaus.

He was leaning against his desk, shamelessly letting his eyes wander over her, and uncrossed his arms to tug her closer, kissing her fondly. “Not a bad idea sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips. “I’ll put it on the back of the door and then you could watch whenever I bend you over my desk and take you from behind.”

It was all too easy to conjure up that image in her mind’s eye and Caroline barely held back a moan as Klaus pressed one last warm kiss against the curve of her neck. If he kept this up then she’d definitely be staying for round three, and she had actual work to get back to.

One last kiss — maybe two — and Caroline managed to pry herself away, shutting the door to Klaus’s office behind her with a giddy smile playing on her lips. She stepped through the door to the Department’s antechamber when movement caught her eye.

For a second Caroline stilled. The door that should always be locked, the one that led to the Department of Mysteries biggest enigma was now ajar — there was someone coming out.

It made sense really, the department didn’t just run on Klaus overseeing the Hall of Prophecies, even he had co-workers (who apparently knew to make themselves scarce around this time most days.) But she’d never come across any of the other Unspeakables from the other sections in the short time she’d been working at the Ministry and making her visits down to Klaus.

She should’ve known that could never last. A young woman with dark skin and curls gently shut the door behind her, affording Caroline only a glimpse of warm bright light, same as the day she’d accidentally stumbled in there. Her mouth ran dry for a second and she wondered if this witch knew anything about that incident. Making a run for it occurred to her, but the Unspeakable looked up and walked forward, an neutral smile on her face.

“I heard rumors that there was someone sneaking visits down here for the past few weeks but I couldn’t guess why.”

Caroline laughed nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Oh — it’s nothing really, just…checking in?” It was barely an excuse and the witch clearly didn’t buy it for a second, but she just smiled wider.

“It’s fine you know. Love is something I’m acquainted with.” She nodded her head back towards the closed door behind her and Caroline nodded with a wan smile, her mind running wild with memories with what she knew was behind that door.

If the witch noticed her uneasiness, she didn’t mention it. Instead, she offered her hand. “Tessa.”

“Caroline.” They shook hands, and Caroline was a little more at ease, satisfied that she wasn’t going to be accused of breaking fifty Ministry rules. She was never totally sure how allowed it was for other employees to just waltz into Level Nine, no matter how glib Klaus was about it.

“Nice to meet you, Caroline,” Tessa said with that same odd smile. The longer they stood there, the more Caroline noticed that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shall I walk you out?”

There was nothing the blonde could do but agree and so they made their way down the dark corridor that led to the elevator, standing side by side in a heavy silence as the lift’s voice counted up.

When the atrium was called, Tessa finally moved to get out. “It was nice to meet you, Caroline,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s always a pleasure to meet someone who’s found their One.”

Their One? Tessa was gone and more wizards filled the lift before Caroline could call out for her and ask for an explanation. She was left to puzzle out the odd comment all the way back up to Level One, but by the time the Minister’s office came she made up her mind that anyone who worked in the Department of Mysteries had to be a little off and a strange comment was probably nothing in the grand scheme of things.

That was it. Tessa was weird, all Unspeakables were.

At least the one she was dating was also hot.

Saturday dawned cold and grey, not that either Klaus or Caroline minded. Wrapped up in each other and under the heavy duvet, neither were set on doing anything that day that involved moving out of Klaus’s bed.

“I’m starting to think that getting my own flat was a waste of money,” Caroline thought out loud, squirming slightly as Klaus skimmed his fingers up and down her sides.

“Well love, I did tell you as much.”

“Kol made a really good case for being flatmates.”

“He also asked me to keep you here as much as possible so that he could have girls over — don’t look so shocked sweetheart, you’re hardly getting a rough deal here.” To emphasize his point, Klaus let his hand travel lower until he reached her core, toying with her clit.

Caroline hummed in contentment, not willing to argue her point. Kol would collude with his brother, and Klaus would be more than willing to help if it meant she spent more nights here than in her new flat. The thought of moving in was tempting, practical even — but this was still technically a new relationship and Caroline was nothing if not traditional.

The thought of their relationship took her back to the room in the Ministry and the woman she’d met the other day. It had slipped her mind until now, but since they were both here and not moving anytime soon, it couldn’t hurt to ask…

“Have you ever met Tessa?”

Klaus stilled the motions of his hand at her out-of-the-blue question. “Come again?”

“Tessa? I met her the other day. She was coming out of…out of that room.”

Klaus had gone completely still, watching her with something between worry and fear. “Did she say—?”

“No!” Caroline assured him quickly. “But she was weird. Said something about how I’d found my ‘One’? Do you know what that means?”

Klaus wrapped his arm back around Caroline’s waist, pulling her even closer as if he needed the reassurance she was there. “I don’t know much about the other sections of the Department outside of the Hall of Prophecies,” he said hesitantly. “The Ministry doesn’t encourage Unspeakables talking too much, even to each other.”

His tone implied there was something he was leaving out. “What is it?” Caroline asked, brow furrowed.

“Tessa studies Love. That’s her department.”

“Makes sense,” Caroline said slowly, thinking back to last year. The fountain in the room was Amortentia, but I couldn’t figure out the strings…”

It was the first time either of them had ever mentioned it, the red string that had tied them together, one out of the the millions that crisscrossed the room’s cavernous ceiling. They didn’t know how it had fallen, why it had wrapped itself around them and, most importantly, why it had disappeared the second they stepped outside. Caroline swore that every now and then, when it was just her and Klaus, she would see the flash of red in the corner of her eye, but nothing was ever there. Just in her imagination. Still, ignoring potentially powerful magic didn’t bode well for anyone.

“It’s best not to think about it too much,” Klaus said, but he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself over her. “No one suspects a thing, it’s not worth the hell that it would bring down, not when you’ve just started on Level One.”

He was completely right, Caroline knew, and it’s not like she was bursting to tell anyone herself. Still, something about Tessa nagged at her, an unease that she couldn’t shake no matter how warm Klaus’s arm felt around her. “So Tessa…what’s her deal?”

“There are rumours about her —”

“Sounds promising—”

“—but honestly no one knows much of anything. I don’t think you could pry it out of Elijah if you tried, even he doesn’t have full access to the Department of Mysteries. Unspeakables are under oath to fulfill their duties to their sections and they say that the curses for breaking those oaths are…severe.”

Caroline shuddered, burrowing closer into Klaus. It had become significantly less menacing, the Department of Mysteries, mostly because she associated it with the man next to her, but moments like this she was reminded of why it held such a dark reputation, why people avoided it like the plague. Some things are never meant to be known. Not that it stopped people from trying.

“What are the rumours?” Caroline asked hesitantly.

Klaus was quiet a beat too long, and when he finally answered, it was with careful reserve. “A few years back, before I even started in the Ministry, there was apparently some business between her and one of the other Unspeakables.”

“What happened?”

“Well that’s just it, love.” Klaus gently pulled away so that he could look her properly in the eyes, and Caroline could see he was worried. “No one actually knows what happened to the witch who used to have my job.”

Caroline released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “That was how you ended up on Level Nine?”

“There was a vacancy, Elijah pulled some strings, no one asked any questions. They never do.”

Silence descended over them, punctuated only by the steady staccato of rain against the window. Caroline regretted ever bringing up the odd witch, worried now that whatever she might’ve done in the past could somehow hurt Klaus too. As if he sensed her thoughts, Klaus pulled her close and kissed her soundly, pressing her into the sheets.

“Ignore her if you see her again,” he said, nipping kisses down her jaw. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Caroline disagreed, but it was hard to put up a fight when he was back to trailing his fingers over her heated skin. One more thing nagged at her though.

“Have you ever heard of wizards finding their ‘One’?”

Klaus paused, glanced up. “One what?”

“Just…their ‘One’?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what the bloody hell you mean.” His tone was light but impatient — he’d much rather put his mouth to better uses. And so without further ado he pulled at the covers until she was completely exposed to him and he could trail his lips over her abdomen, down towards her aching core and all thoughts of the Department and those who work there flew from her mind because right now, it was the two of them and nothing else mattered at all.

For all the time that Caroline spent in Klaus’s bed, it was nice to have a place of her own. Her’s and Kol’s technically, but it was still where she had her grandma’s quilt on her bed and she and Kol bickered over which Muggle show they were going to watch in the evening.

Kol came from a thoroughly pureblood wizarding family, and regardless of how modern the younger generation of Mikaelsons were, it just couldn’t match Caroline’s knowledge from spending her entire childhood and summers raised by her Muggle mom back in the States. So enchantments existed next to wifi (even if the connection went haywire on a regular basis), Caroline spent hours trying to explain the concept of reality TV (”No Kol, she can’t just confound the judges into giving her a perfect score!”) and they both took turns learning how to cook with varying degrees of success. Overall, it was home.

“So how’s Level Seven?” Caroline asked one evening over a dinner of slightly undercooked pasta. It had taken a bit of cajoling on everyone’s part to get Kol to take an interest in an actual job after graduation, but Esther Mikaelson just could not bear one of her sons tarnishing the family name by not entering the Ministry like his brothers before him. The Mikaelson matriarch been hoping for Magical Law, but settled for Kol in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, even if she did try to get Elijah to ‘talk sense’ into him at every interval.

“It’s alright,” Kol replied around a mouth full of pasta. “Boring as fuck, but I’ve met at least a dozen recruiters, and they all remember how good I was in Hogwarts.”

“You want to play professionally?”

“I do miss beating things around,” Kol said wistfully, while Caroline just snorted into her plate.

“I remember the time you nearly took Tristan de Martel’s head off.”

“To be fair, it was a rather large target.”

Caroline laughed some more as she and Kol bantered back and forth. It was only when their plates were cleared and the conversation lulled for a second that Caroline remembered what had been on her mind the past few days.

“Kol…how much do you know about the Department of Mysteries?”

Kol cocked an eyebrow at her, leaning back into his chair. “Any reason you’re asking me and not Nik?”

“I did, but I want to know more. Have you heard any gossip about the Unspeakables that work there?”

Kol pretended to ponder the question for a second. “Wellll….there is a rumour that one of blokes in the Hall of Prophecies is shagging this hot blonde on Level One.”

Caroline chucked a cushion at his head, not impressed. If Hogwarts was bad for gossip, the Ministry was even worse. Thankfully she and Klaus hadn’t gotten any flack for their relationship (which wasn’t even technically against any rules), but she was hoping that something else had gotten through the grapevine.

“No you dick, besides Klaus. There’s this girl named…Tessa? Anything about her?”

Kol chucked the cushion back. “Sorry Sweets, never heard the name.”

Caroline sighed, resigned on never learning more about the other Unspeakables. But just as she got up to take her empty plate to the sink, Kol’s voice pulled her back.

“I did hear something about an…Amara? The witch used used to work in the Hall of Prophecies?”

Caroline froze, sinking back slowly into her seat. “The one who used to have Klaus’s old job?”  

Kol nodded, lost in memory. “I was back for the summer before fifth year, Mother was throwing a snit because she’d finally convinced Klaus to work in the Ministry but he refused Level One. Not that I blame him, working with Elijah would be a nightmare, I don’t know how you put up with his constant prattling about—”

“Kol! Focus!”

“Christ, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Look, Nik was never going to work with the Minister, but there was a vacancy in the Hall of Prophecies that he wanted. And it was his to take really, Elijah and Finn were talking about some business that had gone down with the witch who worked there, apparently she ended up in St. Mungo’s, but no one knew why.”

Caroline felt a sharp chill on the back of her neck, like someone had walked right over her grave. “No one knew? Was she hurt?”

Kol looked at her oddly. “Well that’s the thing, darling. From what I gathered, there was nothing seriously wrong with her…one day she was fine, the next, completely off her rocker.”

A beat passed before Caroline managed to speak again. “But you don’t know if Tessa did something to her?”

“Told you, I never heard of a ‘Tessa’. Granted, that was about the part in the conversation when Rebekah decided to be a bitch and tell Mother about the Extendable Ears I’d gotten from Weasley’s earlier that summer—and she confiscated the lot of them too…”

Kol went on to describe how he got back at Rebekah by charming her makeup to give her scales, but Caroline couldn’t focus on a word he said. Instead, her mind raced with more questions than answers, wondering about this girl who ended up in St. Mungo’s and what had happened to her, what ‘Tessa’ could possibly have to do with it, why Klaus hadn’t thought to tell her any of this when she asked, and  most importantly, why she could shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her the more she thought about this story.

There was one thing that hadn’t come up though.

“Hey Kol?” she said suddenly, interrupting his story about burning all of his sister’s dress robes. “Have you ever heard of wizards finding their ‘One’?”

“One what?” he asked, a perfect replica of his older brother.

Caroline sighed and waved him off. It was a stupid thing said by some weird witch who probably just wanted to use the natural mystery of Level Nine and some suspicious rumours to freak Caroline out, that was all. The Department of Mysteries was dangerous, maybe  Amara did something she shouldn’t have, maybe she tried to view a prophecy that wasn’t hers. But that didn’t shake the unease Caroline felt over the whole thing, like there was something sinister right under the surface, if only she took the time to look.

Klaus had said that the consequences for breaking the rules there were severe. But Klaus had also clearly lied to her about how much he knew.

One way or another, Caroline was getting her answers.

Caroline’s hands gripped the small flowerpot she was holding on to, muttering a little pep talk to herself under her breath. She didn’t know what she was walking into, for the first time in her life she barely had half a plan — very un-Caroline. But these were desperate times, and they called for desperate measures.

If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

The reception area of St. Mungo’s was busy that day, various maladies distracting her as she waited in what felt like an interminably long queue. The welcome-witch at the desk waved each person off to the appropriate ward, clearly bored of her job. Finally, the wizard in front of Caroline with a bad case of uncontrollable giggling was sent to the Third Floor and Caroline stepped up, trying not to squirm under the stare of Dily Derwent’s painting above the desk.

“Hi!” Caroline chirped, slightly too-cheerful. “I’m looking for a patient, her name’s Amara.”

The witch looked up, part bored, part irritated. “Amara who?”

Caroline faltered, trying to keep the smile on her face. “Um, the thing is, I don’t actually know her last name. She’s…the friend of a friend from the States, and my friend asked me to check up on her since I’m here and they didn’t give me a lot of information but I thought I’d come down anyway—”

How much longer Caroline would’ve gone on for was debatable, but the welcome-witch clearly wasn’t buying it and she was spared from further humiliation by a voice from behind her.

“It’s Petrova. We’re here to see Amara Petrova.”

Caroline’s breath faltered and she turned slowly to see who had spoken. The man in front of her was tall, with a sharp jawline and deep set eyes that watched her carefully.

“Level Four. Janus Thickey ward,” the welcome-witch said from behind her and the stranger smiled over Caroline’s shoulder, then nodded his head towards the double doors that led to the staircase. Caroline hesitated for a moment, wondering just what she was getting into, but the burning need for answers drove her to follow the wizard and hope for the best.

“Thanks for that,” Caroline said as the double doors closed behind them and they started up the curving staircase, portraits of healers given them unwanted advice as they climbed. “Amara’s an — old friend—I just forgot—”

The wizard paused, looking down at her, his lips curving into what would’ve been a kind smile, except for some reason, Caroline didn’t really believe it.

“It’s fine, I suppose you knew Amara from when she used to visit her cousins in the States?”

“Yes!” Caroline seized on the opportunity, the lie coming together in her head. “She used to visit in the summers, her cousins are friends of mine — I’m actually visiting for them while I’m here.”

The wizard apparently bought it, nodding sagely. “I’m Silas.”

Caroline shook the hand he extended. “Caroline Forbes.”

They continued up the stairs, studiously ignoring the painting frantically trying to warn Caroline about her impending death from dragon pox before they came to the Fourth Floor. Silas held the door open as they stepped through, then headed towards the Janus Thickey Ward.

“We��re here to see Amara Petrova,” Silas informed the Healer on duty, and the witch dutifully let them inside. Beds lined the walls and Silas led Caroline to the one at the very end of the row where a young woman sat up, hands folded neatly on her lap. She was pretty, heavy dark curls framing wide doe eyes and a kind smile as she looked over at the rest of the ward with detached interest.

“Hi Amara,” Caroline said, placing the small flowerpot on the bedside table. “I’m here because of your…cousins. They send their love.”

By some miracle of magic, Amara smiled up at Caroline serenely and didn’t question a word she said. Instead, her attention shifted almost immediately to Silas and by the way the man looked down at her, Caroline needed no explanation for why he was here.

“Hello my love,” he whispered quietly as he sat down next to her. Caroline felt suddenly that she was intruding on something intensely private and she wanted desperately to flee, only the need for some answers still nagged at her.

“Silas, Amara’s cousins didn’t say—they just said she was in St. Mungo’s, but they didn’t tell me that she was in the long term ward. What—what happened to her?”

Caroline prayed she hadn’t stuck her foot in her mouth like she usually tended to, but Silas was too enamored with Amara to really pay attention. “There was an accident where she worked,” he replied vaguely. “No one really knows what happened.”

Amara picked that moment to look up at Caroline, eyes wide but vacant. “Follow the strings,” she muttered quietly. “So many strings…”

The blood in Caroline’s veins turned to ice as she flashed back to the room in the Department where thousands of red strings criss-crossed a cavernous ceiling. “I don’t…I don’t know what she means…” Caroline stammered out.

Silas wasn’t fazed, just smiled at Amara indulgently. “She doesn’t make a lot of sense anymore,” he explained. “She just says things. You can ignore it.”

“When will they come down?” Amara asked Silas, that wide-dazed look never leaving her eyes. “All the strings, when will they come down?”

Silas didn’t answer her, just squeezed her hands on top of the blanket. Caroline fidgeted where she stood, not sure how this was helping. She couldn’t interrogate the poor girl, not in the state she was in and definitely not with Silas there. Whatever had happened to her was apparently severe enough to warrant a permanent residence in St. Mungo’s and she didn’t look like she could string a coherent sentence together, let alone tell Caroline what had happened to her.

“So I’m just going to go,” Caroline said finally, ready to put this waste of a visit behind her. “It was nice seeing you Amara. I’ll tell your — cousins — that you’re okay.”

Amara was clearly far from okay but that didn’t matter anymore, Caroline had turned on her heel and was ready to get the hell out.

“Follow your string.”

Caroline froze, then turned slowly, watching Amara carefully. “Wh-what did you say?”

“Follow your string. It’s so pretty,” Amara said, serene smile still on her face. “Find your One.”

“What does that mean?” Caroline asked her intently, probably a little harsher than she had to. Amara’s eyes widened and she cocked her head to the side, gaze sliding to the space on the ground just beside Caroline, but when Caroline turned to see what she was staring at, she saw nothing but the gleaming tile floor.

“I told you. She just says things. They don’t mean anything.” Silas looked up at Caroline with that same smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and that was enough to get the blonde to nod quickly and turn on her heel, striding out of the ward without a single backwards glance.

The double doors to the staircase were in view and Caroline was just about to wrench them open when the job was done for her. And she did not expect the person on other side.

“Klaus?!”

They stared each other down in shock before Klaus finally snapped out of it and looked behind her, towards the closed ward, and then back to Caroline putting two and two together. Caroline saw followed his movements and braced herself for the way his lips pressed together and his brow furrowed, a clear tell of his irritation. Without any preamble he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her into a nearby broom closet, watching the hallway for healers who were preoccupied with another batch of visitor.s

The door was barely shut behind them when Klaus pulled out his wand, a whispered “Lumos” giving them light. It allowed Caroline to see just how angry he really was.

“Caroline, what the bloody hell are you doing here?!” he hissed.

For a moment, she considered making something up, but he definitely wouldn’t believe it and Caroline was getting pretty pissed herself. “You tell me!” she whispered harshly. “But apparently you’re lying to me now!”

Klaus jaw ticked as he stared down at her for a long, torturous moment, before finally speaking. “I didn’t lie to you,” he ground out.

He was met with a scoff. “You didn’t tell me everything you knew,” Caroline pointed out. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s lying.”

Klaus turned away from her, scrubbing a hand over his face and when Caroline got a good look at him again, she was slightly taken aback by how tired he looked. As pissed as she was, some of her irritation was quickly being replaced with worry.

“Look, just tell me what the hell is going on,” she pleaded, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t know what happened to Amara, but…she had your job, right? Is something wrong? Are you in danger?!”

Her worst fears flew through her mind, of something happening to Klaus in the Department of Mysteries, doomed to become another whispered rumour that she would never learn the truth about. Klaus easily saw the worry on her face, softening and reaching out to pull her closer. The wand he held cast ominous shadows across the small space and Caroline buried her face in Klaus’s chest, as if she could hide herself away from them.

“Kol told me you’d asked him about Amara,” Klaus whispered against her hair. “I figured you wouldn’t stop until you had answers, but I thought if I could figure it out first, then I could at least be the one to explain it to you.”

Caroline pulled back to look him in the eye. “Wait…you don’t know what happened to her?”

Klaus shook his head grimly. “No one does — and that’s the truth, love. Four years ago, Amara was admitted to St. Mungo’s after an incident on Level Nine. There were no witnesses except two other Unspeakables. Tessa was one of them.”

Something unpleasant twisted in Caroline’s gut. “Was the other one named…Silas?”

Klaus stiffened immediately. “How do you know that?”

“He’s here, Klaus. Visiting Amara. And I’m pretty sure he’s in love with her.”

“He’s dangerous, Caroline,” Klaus said, gripping her tighter and looking towards the door as if Silas was about to fling it open any second. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing much, just said that Amara mutters stuff that doesn’t make sense.”

“So I take it she’s in no fit state to tell us anything of worth?”

“Just some stuff about red strings—”

Klaus visibly started. “Red strings like…the ones in the Department of Love?” he asked disbelievingly. “She didn’t even work there.”

“Neither did I,” Caroline reminded him dryly. “Why do you think Silas is dangerous?”

“There ‘s something off about him,” Klaus answered, lips pressed into a firm line. “I don’t know what it is, but I don’t trust him.”

“So…what do we do now?” Caroline asked quietly.

Klaus said nothing for a long moment. “We move on, we forget these people, we focus on ourselves.” He gathered her closer, his voice begging her to listen to him. “This has nothing do with us, Caroline.”

He was right, honestly. And so Caroline nodded, let him put out the light on his wand and lead them back into the brightly lit hallway. She tried as hard as she could to tell herself that there was no point in pursuing any of this.

It would’ve been easy too, if it weren’t for the fact that just before the doors to the staircase closed behind them, she noticed two things:

First, a tall figure was standing in the corner of the hallway, almost completely out of  notice. Silas watched them leave, his stare intense and unwavering.

Second, just before the doors closed, Caroline saw the flash of a bright red string between her and Klaus, connecting them.

Screw all of this. She wanted answers and she was damn well getting them.

Honestly, if there was one thing Caroline wished the Wizarding World had, it was the internet. If the Wizarding World had the Internet, then everything anybody knew about the Department of Mysteries could be in a Wikipedia article, and Caroline wouldn’t be sitting in Three Broomsticks, hiding from Rebekah Mikaelson and her posse and hoping no Hogwarts students saw her sitting there.

She didn’t know what she was doing, but she was officially in too deep to back out now. There was only one place Caroline could think could possibly hold answers for her: The Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library. But since she was no longer a student, she had to enlist a current seventh-year to do the dirty work.

Thank god April Young still hero-worshiped her.

“Hi Caroline!” Speak of the devil, April Young slid into the booth opposite Caroline, unwrapping the thick yellow and black scarf around her neck. “Oh my god, it is so cool to see you back in Hogsmeade! Do you get a lot of time to visit? Is the Ministry busy? I mean I want to work in the Ministry too, but I hope I get to come back here because I love this place and I’m going to miss it so much when—”

“April!” Caroline interjected quickly, swiveling her head frantically to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “It’s, uh, great. Work is great, here’s great. Do you have the book I asked you for?”

April nodded eagerly, reaching into her bag and pulling out a thick black book with the title The Long History of the Ministry of Magic: Second Edition. The dusty cover looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in at least a century. “I have it here. Professor Binns didn’t even ask why I wanted to take it out, can you believe that?”

Caroline could believe that actually, nobody would ever suspect sweet, sweet April of doing anything remotely dangerous. She almost felt bad for taking advantage of April’s willingness to please people, but this was necessary.

“So, is Kol here too? Is he visiting Rebekah?” April was a second away from calling out to the blonde Mikaelson but Caroline stopped her in the nick of time.

“He’s not here! And Rebekah can’t know I’m here because I’m…planning a surprise! For Kol. And it has to do with that book.”

There was literally no part of that excuse that made sense, and even April’s naivete looked like it was being stretched to its limits. But Caroline didn’t care, the second Rebekah saw her there, Kol and Klaus would know, and Caroline was so close to getting the answers she needed.

April began babbling about what S.P.E.W was doing for their next fundraiser, and Caroline forced herself to sit still and nod politely, pretending to be interested in whatever April was saying. Normally she’d want to know if things were falling to pieces without Caroline to head the committee meetings, but the book in the corner of her eye was calling to her and Caroline could barely contain herself.

Finally, April rose to head out so that she could get back to the school on time. Caroline promised to have the book back to her by next week, and as soon as every Hogwarts student had cleared out, Caroline grabbed her things and ran outside, nearly splinching herself when she apparated home.

Kol — bless his philandering heart — was spending the night with his latest fling, so she had the place to herself. With near reverence, she pulled out the heavy tome and put it on the coffee table, watching it warily. Before, she’d been so eager to just get the answers she wanted, but now, she wasn’t sure what she would find and if she wanted to find it.

It didn’t even make sense that a book about the Ministry of Magic was in the Restricted Section, but Caroline suspected she was about to figure out why. Gingerly, she opened the book.

Nothing jumped out, screamed, hexed her, or tried to steal her soul. Always a plus.

Emboldened, Caroline flipped through the pages until she reached chapter nine. Unlike the rest of the book, several passages were crossed out angrily, or when Caroline tried to focus on a sentence, the letters jumped around the page, making it nearly impossible to understand what was right in front of her. The letters were minuscule and it gave her a headache the more she concentrated.

It took a full ten minutes before Caroline could make out the words “Department” and “Love” and she determined she had the right page. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat when she managed to read ‘strings’. One hour later, she finally managed one sentence.

Current research holds that the strings tie witches and wizards to their individual, unique soulmate.

Caroline swore her heart stopped.

Soulmate

Was…was that a thing? Was that a Wizarding World thing? Soulmates were the stuff of Muggle fairytales, she’d never once heard anybody at Hogwarts talk about it like it was a normal, everyday occurence.

The strings tie witches and wizards to their individual, unique, soulmate.

Did that make her and Klaus…soulmates?

Caroline sat paralyzed on the couch, thinking back on everything that had ever happened between them, all the way back to the day in the Department behind the door that should’ve been locked, the strings that stretched high above them, all the love in the world…

Did the string that had attached to her and Klaus force them into being soulmates? Or did it find them because there was a magic in love that nobody could explain?

“Find your one”

A pleasant sort of ache formed in her heart the more she thought about it, the entirety of their relationship. The moments when it was just the two of them, when they lounged in bed, sweat slicked bodies entwined in expensive sheets, nothing in the world to worry about except each other and how much they loved each other.  

Tentatively, Caroline held onto her memories of Klaus, letting them take over as she raised her left hand and stared at her pinky finger.

Every moment, every word, every feeling, she played it again and again, the ache in her chest growing until it threatened to overwhelm her and Caroline would gladly let it.

And finally there it was, the bright red string around her finger, stark and unbreakable. It trailed on the ground, through the apartment, and under the front door. Caroline didn’t need to ask where it ended up.

Soulmates. She and Klaus were soulmates. ‘Ones’, Tessa and Amara had called it. She  was no closer to figuring out what happened to Amara, but nothing mattered at the moment because Klaus was her soulmate and the only thing she wanted to do was tell him.

It was just too bad someone else would stop her before she got the chance.

Wherever Caroline was waking up, there was a pleasant warmth on her face. It prolonged her panic, making her feel safe despite the edges of her mind screaming danger. Her head ached, and her eyes opened slowly only to be assaulted by light —but it was still so warm, so safe, that she couldn’t really be that bothered by it.

Until she really took in her circumstances, then she was very bothered.

She was sitting in a chair, her limbs unnervingly still and with mounting panic, she realized that she couldn’t move them, couldn’t crane her neck around frantically. Marbled tile stretched out underneath, covering the large room with a fountain to her right, steam spiraling from mother-of-pearl liquid that gushed liberally. Caroline didn’t have to look up to know what she would find — no source to the warm light that bathed the room but instead a mass of red strings crisscrossing a cavernous ceiling.

This was the room dedicated to Love in the Department of Mysteries, but she had no clue how she’d gotten here.

Her mind raced as she tried to recall her last memories. She’d been reading the book about the Ministry, she’d read about soulmates, she’d come to tell Klaus…

Klaus was supposed to be working late, she knew that, she’d come straight to the Ministry, gone down to Level Nine, nearly sprinted to the door—and that was when everything went black. She’d never even made it into the Hall of Prophecies, she had no idea where Klaus was or what was happening and her breaths started coming out rapidly, the spell constricting her only ratcheting up her horror. Her wand was nowhere in sight.

Soft footsteps sounded somewhere from her left until a person crossed into her line of vision.

“You can relax,” Tessa said, smiling coldly. “There’s no getting out.”

Caroline wanted to speak but the body-bind curse kept her still and terrified. Tessa bent down until she was at eye level, reaching out to play with one of Caroline’s curls. “I didn’t think I’d get a chance like this.”

Caroline could only stare back, trying to mask her terror with bravado.

Tessa regarded her in silence for moment before glancing down, where her hands rested on the arms of the chair. She looked at Caroline’s pinky finger, pursing her lips together tightly before snapping her gaze back up to the blonde’s. “I never paid attention to Mikaelson but I knew he was sleeping with some slut from Level One. Then I saw you…and I knew. I’ve worked here for so long, I knew immediately.”

Tessa stepped back, rocking back and forth on her heels with a slightly manic glint in her eyes. Caroline tried to follow her movements the best she could.

“It’s rare, you know. But now that you’re here, I have what I’ve been waiting for.” Tessa wandered over to the center of the room, staring up at the mass of red strings thoughtfully. “Witches and wizards have spent years in here trying to understand soulmates,” she said, more to herself than anything. “And I thought if I could understand the magic, then I could control it.”

Caroline didn’t know why Tessa was taking her time to gloat, but the way the other woman seemed to savour the moment probably meant that this was the first time she’d been able to share whatever the hell went on in this room. The other witch turned, looking at Caroline for a moment, before waving her wand and suddenly Caroline found she could move her head again.

“What the hell is going on?!” she demanded but Tessa just relished the chance to have someone to talk to.

“I told you — you’re going to help me understand soulmate magic.”

“Why do this, why not just find someone to help?”

Tessa smirked, “Because there’s a good chance this isn’t going to end well for you…or Mikaelson.”

Caroline’s blood turned to  ice, any thought of Klaus being in danger sent her into pure, unadulterated terror. Whatever fear she felt was herself was dwarfed in comparison, and her singular focus was somehow keeping Klaus safe. Whatever Tessa wanted, it would have to be with her only.

“What happened to Amara?” Caroline asked desperately, “What did you do to her?”

Tessa’s demeanor changed then, her face twisting into something ugly and hateful. “That damn bitch. Everything would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for her!”

“What happened?” Caroline asked, trying to keep her voice even and Tessa’s attention focused on her.

“She did the same thing you did,” Tessa snarled. “Wandered in where she had no business being. And she ruined everything.”

Caroline gulped, “What did she do?”

Tessa stalked forward, leaning down until she was crouched in front of Caroline again. Screwing up her face in concentration, she muttered a spell under her breath and flicked her wand over Caroline’s hand. The string around her finger glowed a bright red and Tessa eyed it hungrily.

“It doesn’t matter what Amara did,” Tessa said quietly, reaching down and picking up the string. “It matters what I’m going to do to you.”

And then she pulled.

Klaus paced around his flat’s living room, mulling over the events of the last few days. To think, he had Caroline naked and wanting in his bed not a week earlier — and now, he didn’t know where they stood.

That was probably over-dramatic, it wasn’t as if she’d demanded he stay away and never speak to her again. But she’d felt at least a little betrayed by his reluctance to tell the truth, even if he didn’t know the full story himself.

Honestly, he hadn’t cared about Amara Petrova past the fact that her loss was his gain. He’d wanted to be in the Hall of Prophecies and that was that. Amara’s sudden turn for the worse had been too convenient for him to question, and Elijah had been too happy that his brother was willing to take a spot in the Ministry without fuss. Esther’s approval of the whole affair was the final nail in the coffin — for a fleeting moment, Klaus had wondered if the Mikaelson matriarch hadn’t somehow orchestrated the whole thing herself.

But Esther’s hands were clean(of this) and no one knew what had happened to Amara, as much as Klaus now wished he had asked more questions at the time. Caroline had avoided him for the past few days, and whatever she was doing, Klaus didn’t doubt for a second that it involved getting the answers she was looking for, with or without his help. And if trying to move past it meant that they were on different sides of this, then Klaus couldn’t take it anymore.

Caroline wanted answers and he was going to help her get them, that was that.

He was set on his plan, halfway to the door when a sudden sharp, flaring pain sent him to his knees, his vision nearly whiting out. He didn’t know if someone had cursed him, there was absolutely no one in his flat, and this felt like nothing he’d ever been prepared for in his old Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. The pain is sharp and intrusive and wrong, it feels perverse—

‘Don’thurtKlausdon’thurtKlausdon’thurtKlaus’

Klaus gasped, bracing himself from collapsing completely. The mantra beat in his head, steady as a drum, and it came with a voice he knew well.

“Caroline…” he whispered desperately, his fear turning to steely resolve. As suddenly as it came, the pain receded, leaving him clear headed on the floor. Caroline was in danger and he was damn well going to find her.

If Caroline’s limbs could move, she was sure she’d be convulsing. The sharp, strange, alien pain of Tessa pulling on her red string had been fierce and unbearable, but no matter how much it hurt, Caroline hadn’t been scared for herself.

She’d been terrified for Klaus.

She knew, on the same instinct that had once told her she was different from all the other children in her neighbourhood growing up, that whatever Tessa had done to her by pulling on her string would affect Klaus too. And whatever the hell was going on here, she didn’t want him in danger.

Caroline’s limbs burned under the weight of immobility, Tessa smirking over her. “What are you going to do to me?” she whispered hoarsely.

In response, Tessa reached inside her robes, pulling out what looked like antique shears, gleaming silver in the light. She inspected them carefully, running her thumb along one of the blades, glancing between them and Caroline. “I’ve had these for a long time,” she said finally. “No one knows where they’ve come from. No one knows what they could do. These should be locked in a vault, but then, so few people understand what we study here. No one understands the implications.”

The witch made no sense at all and Caroline wanted to snap at her to stop speaking in riddles, but the more Tessa gloated, the more time Caroline had to come up with a way out.

Unfortunately, it looked like time had run out.

Tessa bent down, shears in one hand, picking up Caroline’s red string with the other. “I just need to understand,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone. “If I could understand…”

She held the string delicately between two fingers. Caroline waited for the pain to come, but Tessa didn’t bother, instead holding the string aloft and positioning the shears to cut.

Caroline wanted to scream, but the dread stopped her cold.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Tessa stilled. The question had come from behind her.

“Help!” Caroline screamed, and immediately saw stars as Tessa viciously backhanded her, but Caroline could taste freedom and that didn’t stop her from snapping her head back as soon as she could, trying to see who her would-be saviour was. She hoped, desperately, fervently, that somehow, some way, it was the person on the other end of her string.

It wasn’t — the man who strolled into the room had a square jaw and disturbingly empty eyes — but even Silas was welcome right now.

“Please help me,” Caroline begged, “she’s crazy, she’s trying to…”

She trailed off. Not because she couldn’t manage it, but because she realized that Silas didn’t looked shocked or appalled or even a little surprised to walk into a room with a door that should always be locked to find an Unspeakable keeping a woman cursed to a chair.

Whatever hope Caroline had died a quick death.

“You started without me,” Silas said, almost sounding bored. He stalked forward until he stood right next to Tessa, looming over Caroline. His stance remained nonchalant, but as soon as he caught sight of the red string around Caroline’s finger, there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eye and his lips curved into a dark smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I had a chance, I took it,” Tessa snapped back.

Silas shrugged, his eyes still not leaving the string. “I’m not complaining.”

Caroline’s curiosity won over her horror, “Why are you helping her?!”

Silas’s gaze slid over to Caroline’s and the blonde barely suppressed a shudder at the coldness of it.

“I’m not helping her — she’s helping me.” Silas said. “Or rather, she’s fixing the mess she made.” He looked over at Tessa with a sneer on his face and Caroline watched the other Unspeakable stand tall under his stare, but her hands shook, ever so slightly.

“I’m cutting her string,” Tessa said through gritted teeth.

“Wait!” Caroline demanded, looking between Silas and Tessa. “Tell me what happened to Amara, what did you do to her?!”

Silas’ calm facade dropped then, anger and pain twisting his features. “Go ahead!” he said mockingly, turning to Tessa. “Tell her what you did!”

Tessa’s stance faltered for the first time and she couldn’t meet Silas’s stare anymore, leaving the man to scoff disdainfully.

“I work in one of the other Rooms,” Silas explained, quiet and deadly. “Amara was in the hall of prophecies. One day, the door to this room was open…and we walked in.”

“She had no business being here!” Tessa spat, but Silas barely paid attention to her, lost in the past.

“The string came down from the rest,” he whispered, staring up at the huge nest, “tied itself around our fingers. We didn’t know what it meant. We didn’t care.”

Caroline was reminded of the way Silas had sat by a hospital bed, nothing but naked adoration in his eyes. She didn’t doubt for a second that Silas and Amara could have been soulmates.

A new fear washed over her. “Was it the string that did…whatever happened to her?”

Silas laughed, it held no humour. “No, it wasn’t the string.” He cut his furious stare over to Tessa again, who had turned her back on the both of them. “Tessa fancied me.”

Tessa spun on her feel, “Do not pretend that you didn’t lead me on!” she snarled. “But the minute that stupid string tied itself around you and that bitch—”

“Don’t you dare!” Silas growled, pulling out his wand. He stopped himself at the last second, turning back to Caroline and realizing there was a bigger picture. “Amara and I didn’t know what the string meant, but she did. And she decided she didn’t want it linking us anymore.”

The story was coming together in Caroline’s mind, hazy and terrifying. “What did you do?” she asked Tessa, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“I fed him a love potion. Gave him the shears and told him to cut his own string, then destroy it.”

Stifling silence descended over them. The only sound was the light bubbling of the fountain of Amortentia near them, and Caroline didn’t have to guess twice where the supply Tessa had slipped Silas had come from. This was nothing like what sixth-year girls would whip together in their Hogwarts dormitories, this would have been so much worse. But cutting the string…

“Why was only Amara affected?” she asked quietly.

Silas shrugged, and the mask of bored disdain was back. “Because I was the one who made the cut? As soon as I did…the pain was enough to bring me back.”

Caroline stared at the shears in Amara’s hand and the truth dawned on her, slowly, horribly. “You made Silas destroy his string…so you want mine and Klaus’s.”

Silas’s smile was feral. “And when we take yours, I’ll be able to tie myself and Amara back together and we’ll be happy.”

There was no reasoning with someone that deep into his guilt and Caroline didn’t even bother staring at him. Instead she stared at Tessa, whose face was perfectly blank, not guilty, not angry, not jealous….just blank.

“You’re not going to let him do that, are you?” Caroline asked insistently. “You want to tie the string to yourself!”

Tessa slapped her across the face again, and this time, Caroline tasted blood. “I’m right, aren’t I?!” She turned to Silas, “Don’t you get it? She’s not going to help you!”

Silas watched Tessa carefully, but he was clearly too far gone to care. They both were. “Get it over with.”

Tessa picked up the string again, positioned her shears and Caroline sucked in a breath, hoping desperately that Klaus would survive this, that he wouldn’t end up in St. Mungos next to Amara, that he would survive this and find happiness.

God, she wanted him to be happy.

The shears closed.

The pain was blinding.

“CAROLINE!”

Klaus stood at the entrance to the chamber with his wand at the ready, staring at Caroline’s prone form in the chair. Silas was on his feet, but Klaus was the quicker dueler, disarming him easily.

“Get away from her,” he growled, marching forward. Tessa let something silver clatter to the floor and pulled out her own wand but Klaus saw her coming.

“Stupefy!” Tessa went down, and Caroline suddenly slumped forward, the spell keeping her stuck to the chair finally broken. Klaus rushed for her, skidding to the ground and pulling her into him, checking her over for injuries, a heavy wave of relief crashing over him when he found none.

“Caroline— love, are you alright?” he asked. She was dazed, eyes unfocused, and stared up at him like she couldn’t believe she was seeing him. But as soon as clarity returned to her eyes, she gasped, and lifted her left hand to her face.

Klaus didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it as soon as he stepped inside the room, but there it was, a bright red string around her finger, now pooled on the floor between them, the other end connecting to Klaus’s own hand.

“We’re soulmates,” Caroline said, first in whisper and then again, louder and with a growing smile. “Klaus, the strings, they connect soulmates.”

Her smile was dazzling even though she made no sense but that didn’t matter to him, because in the next second she had thrown her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, equal parts love and relief. He returned the gesture in kind, the solid weight of her in his arms a reassurance that he had found her in time, that she was fine, and if he had anything to say about it, she would always be safe.

“How did you find me?” she whispered against his lips.

Klaus pulled back so that he could look her in the eyes, one hand holding her cheek, stroking it. “I felt some sort of pain, I knew it was you,” he explained hurriedly, “I followed — I don’t know what I followed. Some instinct led me here.”

“You followed the string,” Caroline said, eyes wide as she looked down at it again. “It connects us because we’re soulmates.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve never heard—”

“It’s true,” Caroline said firmly.

“She’s right, you know.”

Klaus snapped to attention, cursing his stupidity. He’d been so focused on getting to Caroline that he neglected to realized Silas had retrieved his wand and was ready to put up a fight. Klaus rose to his feet, dragging Caroline up with him and placing himself firmly in front of her. “What do you want?” he growled.

“I want my soulmate back. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it.”

Klaus raised his wand, but before either of them could do anything, a sharp voice rang out, “Locomotor Mortis!”

Tessa picked herself up from the ground, wand pointed out at Klaus and Caroline. The leg-locker curse took hold immediately, dropping them back to the ground, and Klaus felt his wand being wrenched from his hand and thrown to the other side of the chamber. A flick of Silas’s wand and Klaus was pulled away from Caroline, a sudden chasm of space between them.

They were wandless, defenseless. Klaus didn’t dare take his eyes off Caroline.

“I told you I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” Silas snarled. “Cut the string!” he ordered Amara.

But Amara made no move to pick up the shears instead staring down at Caroline with an unreadable expression. “It has to be one of them,” she said to herself before looking up at Silas. “It has to be one of them! You were the one who cut your string, it doesn’t work if anyone else does it!”

Silas nodded, absorbing the information quickly. “Go on then,” he barked at Caroline, nodding towards the shears near her hand. “Cut it!”

Caroline shook her head immediately, not even wincing when Amara aimed her wand at her.

“Do it!”

Caroline remained steadfast. “You’ll have to kill me,” she spat.

Silas smirked coldly. “Why would we do anything to you?”

Klaus realized his meaning seconds before Silas raised his wand.

“Crucio.”

Klaus tried to keep his composure, but every nerve was on fire, every inch of his body felt like a knife was sliding through his skin, piercing his insides and twisting them until there was nothing left of him. As soon as it ended he slumped forward, legs still locked and arms braced against the floor as he panted heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. His heartbeat roared in his ears but through the noise he heard Caroline screaming for them to stop, begging them to turn on her.

No. Whatever they did to him, he couldn’t let them touch her.

“Don’t hurt him,” she begged, “whatever happens, you swear that nothing happens to him!”

“He’ll be fine,” Silas said curtly.

“Caroline…” Klaus croaked, the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse still exhausting him. “Don’t, please.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Caroline soothed, picking up the shears with trembling hands. “Just…don’t look, okay?”She managed a watery smile, trying to suck up her fear, but Klaus could see right through her. He always could.

“Don’t do this,” he begged.

“Shh,” Caroline said, blinking away her tears. “I love you.”

She’d never said that before. He knew, somehow, but they’d never actually said the words.

“I love you too.”

Caroline choked out a sob, and Klaus felt the press of Silas’s wand against the back of his neck.

“Cut the fucking string.”

Caroline kept her stare on Klaus, and with a shuddering breath, she raised her left hand and held the shears straight in front of her, closing the blades around the string.

For a moment, Klaus swore everything stopped.

Then everything went white.

Something warm and blinding swept rippled out throughout the chamber, knocking Silas and Tessa to the ground, and Klaus felt his legs come free. He wasted no time with spells, simply grabbing Silas and punching the bastard across the face. His wand was on the other side of the chamber and he ran for it, not willing to be taken down again, but when he had it firmly in his grasp, he saw that Silas was out cold and Tessa had followed suit.

And Caroline…

Caroline was staring at her left hand where the red string between them glowed brightly, whole and unbroken.

“Do I even want to know how this started?”

Elijah received no answer to his question, but Caroline doubted he actually expected one. She watch the Aurors float Tessa and Silas’s unconscious bodies away, taking them somewhere they could be held for questioning. And there would be questions. And eventually Caroline herself would have to answer them, but for now, Klaus had done an admirable job of using his family connections to keep everything as low-key as possible.

Few wizards or witches were allowed down here anyway, so the pair were only faced with scrutiny from Elijah and Kol, the former who would be doing everything in his (considerable) power to cover up all that had happened, and the latter who just wanted to sneak a peek at the carnage, but was currently eyeing the red string between Klaus and Caroline.

“You’ll have to sit through a formal inquiry,” Elijah explained, running a hand over his face tiredly. “But if Silas used an Unforgivable Curse…”

“He did,” Caroline finally spoke up, her voice hard.

Elijah nodded gravely, rare concern showing as he looked over his younger brother, noting the way him and Caroline leaned on each other. “Well, the Veritaserum will confirm that, and then he won’t be a problem. Tessa will likely face similar consequences, once the full story comes out.”

Klaus nodded and Elijah could see the exhaustion on both their faces, so he let them go for now. “We’ll sort through the details tomorrow, get some rest.” He clasped his hand on Klaus’s shoulder and with a nod, turned on his heel. Kol lingered, and stared up at the nest of red strings criss-crossing the ceiling.

“Can I assume I have the flat to myself tonight?” he asked Caroline with a wink and she rolled her eyes half-heartedly. “Well, I’ll be off to take advantage. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

He copied Elijah and clasped Klaus on the arm in a rare display of brotherly affection, then darted forward and pressed a quick kiss to Caroline’s cheek. The most he’d ever do to show that he was concerned about either of them. “Have fun in bed!”

Kol was gone before either of them could yell after him and then it was just Klaus and Caroline and the room filled with the mystery of Love. Even despite what had happened, it was warm and comforting in a way Caroline only really understood when it was just her and Klaus, with nothing else in the world to care about.

“What now?” Klaus asked, question after question running through his head.

There was so much to talk about, but this conversation she could have. “Now we go home.”

It was raining again, to no one’s surprise. Klaus locked the door of his apartment behind them and as an afterthought pulled out his wand and tapped it against the handle. “Extra measures,” he said with a shrug, “I doubt we’ll want to be interrupted by Muggle or magic.”

Well, Caroline couldn’t argue with him there.

They stood in silence for a long torturous moment, neither knowing what to say. Caroline knew what she wanted, she wanted to feel him fully and completely, with the knowledge that they were it for each other, that there was a magic between them that was so deep and powerful that no one could take it away from them. But it was almost overwhelming— almost.

“The string.” Klaus finally broke the silence, glancing down at his hand, but of course he couldn’t see it anymore, it had disappeared the moment they’d both stepped out of the Department.

“Watch this,” Caroline whispered, a small smile on her face. She closed her eyes and concentrated on Klaus, on how much she felt for him, enough that her chest ached but she wanted more, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the bright red colour of the string connecting the two of them, Klaus’s mouth hanging open. It disappeared slowly after a few moments but there was no denying that it was  there, that it would always be there.

“And it means you’re my…One?” he asked,coming closer, fingers itching to pull her closer.

Caroline met him in the middle, raising up a hand to cup his cheek and run her thumb over the stubble on his chin. “Soulmates,” she confirmed quietly. “We’re soulmates.”

Klaus couldn’t wait any longer, he leaned down and closed the space between them, meeting her lips with his. His hands found their way to her waist, grasping her close as if someone was going to try and tear them apart again. Let them, Caroline thought.

She parted her lips and poured every ounce of love for him she could into it, the worry when she thought he’d be affected, the pain of seeing him under the Cruciatus Curse, the relief of having him safe and whole in front of her now. All of that and more, string or no string, he was everything for her and she ached for more of him.

“How did you find me?” she asked breathlessly when he finally pulled away.

“Followed instinct,” he explained against her neck, pressing hot kisses against her skin, as if he were mapping her out for the first time. “Realized that I was following the string.”

It made very little sense, but magic rarely did. Instead, Caroline let the word soulmate play over and over in her mind on a loop while Klaus continued his ministrations, tugging the thin strap of her dress of her shoulder.

Caroline moaned at the feel of his stubble against her skin and backed away slowly, towards the direction of his bedroom. But the space was too much for him at the moment and he immediately grabbed her back, ignoring her small squeal as he picked her up and walked them down the hall to his bed himself.

Soft sheets met Caroline’s back as Klaus dropped her down on his bed and she stared up at him with wide, lust-blown eyes, the two of them falling into another moment of silence before Caroline finally broke it.

“I love you.”

Klaus was on her in the next second, pushing her dress up her thighs, kissing every inch of skin revealed to him. “Again,”  he growled against the lace of her panties, and Caroline lost her breath at the feel of warm mouth so close to where she needed him, seperated by a maddeningly thin barrier.

“I love you,” she moaned, “I love you.”

Her underwear was dragged down her legs a moment later by his teeth and then he was back, one arm solidly draped over her waist to hold her down as she arched against his mouth, tongue expertly parting her folds and working on her clit until she saw stars.. He drove her to the edge expertly, tongue drawing figures against her pussy, spelling out the indecent things he wanted to do to her, drawing out her release the way he’d perfected.

Caroline’s hand flew to his hair, threading her fingers through his curls and she felt the tension in her grow and grow until Klaus had her tumbling over the edge, sobbing his name like a prayer.

“You’re so bloody beautiful,” Klaus whispered as he divested himself of his clothes and climbed over her pliant body, kissing her hard and Caroline tasted herself on his lips. “And you’re mine,” he whispered, picking up her hand where they knew the string was, invisible now, though Caroline swore she saw red in the corner of her eye.

“My soulmate,” Klaus whispered against her skin, tearing her dress over her head so that there was nothing between them and he took full advantage, long artist’s fingers reaching and caressing every possible inch of her. “There’s on one else for us sweetheart, you’re mine,” Klaus said, never breaking eye contact before he bent his head down to lave his tongue around her nipple, his fingers tweaking the other one into a peak, taking great pleasure in watching her come undone.

“Please, Klaus,” Caroline whined, as talented as his fingers and tongue were, she needed so much more from him.

“I love you like this you know,” he commented idly, as if he wasn’t just as gone for her as she was for him. “Naked and needy, wet and wanting. And now I know I get to have like this forever,” he growled, blatant possessiveness running through him as she ran his hands over him, trying to pull him down for another kiss. He let her, but pulled away and grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head as he positioned himself between her thighs.

“Please, Klaus, I need you,” Caroline panted, not even caring how desperate for him she sounded.

“Need what?” Klaus asked with a filthy smirk, fully intending on drawing out every inch of desire she had in her. One hand kept her hands pinned, the other went to stroke his cock as she watched him with naked want. “Use your words, love.”

“I need your cock,” Caroline said, meeting his heady stare. “I need you inside me.”

“Good girl,” Klaus replied, bending down to peck her lips. He swiped a hand through her folds, finding her soaking wet and nearly came over her. “Tell me more?”

“I need you to fuck me,” Caroline whispered against him, “Ineedyouineedyouinneedyou—”

His own desperation couldn’t hold out any longer and he slid into her easily with one thrust, settling for a moment as he let her adjust, and then moved against her, rocking his body against hers with what little finesse he could manage considering how achingly perfect she felt around him, wet and warm and tight as if she alone were made just for him. And maybe she was, all things considered.

Klaus finally abandoned the hold on her wrists, letting her wrap her arms around him as he pulled her up with him so that he was on his knees, leaning back on his haunches and she was rocking in his lap, gasping at the angle this position afforded them. His lips ravaged her skin, leaving marks that he would happily admire the next morning, reminders of the magic that bound them.

Caroline felt his control slip, and he fucked her harder, gripping her tighter. Her fingers tugged on his curls, hard, and she moaned against his lips at the slap he delivered against her outer thigh in response. Her pussy gripped him tighter and he buried his face against her neck as he came, stilling against her. He played with her clit until she came apart for a second time a moment later and together they collapsed backwards onto the bed, skin slicked with sweat, limbs tangled and Klaus still buried inside her.

“Mine,” he whispered again, gentler this time.

“Yours,” Caroline agreed wholeheartedly. She groaned at the pleasant ache she felt as he pulled out of her, moving away only so far as to pull the heavy duvet over the two of them, and Caroline felt him tangle his legs in between hers as he pulled her closer, nose skimming the back of her shoulder.

“Rest up,” he said fondly, dropping a kiss to the back of the neck. “I intend to keep you busy all night.”

“You should rest,” Caroline protested weakly. “It’s been a long day.”

“On one condition — we take tomorrow off.”

“I’m pretty sure Elijah expects us to answer questions about what happened today.”

“He can fuck off until I’ve had my fill of you.” Klaus said with finality, and Caroline had no doubt he’d duel his brother if it meant keeping her in bed.

“Fine,” Caroline said without much of a fight. “But we might be here a while.”

“Forever, love, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Ready to head out, sweetheart?”

Caroline looked up from her desk at her boyfriend poking his head into her office, grinning widely. “How did you get in here?” she asked, already waving her wand to clear the paperwork off her desk.

“Would you believe that the door doesn’t lock for me anymore?” Klaus asked, coming inside and meeting her halfway, greeting her with a kiss. “The room just lets me in.”

“Wonder why?” Caroline asked aloud, but felt like she already knew the answer.

The Department of Mysteries had no shortage of enigmas for the people who worked there, and Caroline privately thought that every room had enough magic that no witch or wizard would ever be able to figure out, no matter how many years of research they put into it. Not that she was about to stop trying. Tessa was looking at a long stay in Azkaban along with Silas, and the Room which housed the mysteries of Love needed a new Head Researcher.

After the rumours had spread, there hadn’t been a lot of people jumping to take the position. Except one.

Elijah was sorry to lose her and had implied not so subtlely that he’d be happy to give her a position in his hypothetical cabinet one day. But for the first time, Caroline was ready to deviate from her life plan if it meant taking the position here, in the Department of Mysteries, trying to understand the power behind the red string that was now always visible within the chamber outside her office. There was so much raw power in love, she wanted to understand all of it.

Klaus had wholeheartedly supported her career change.

“How goes the search for a remedy?” Klaus asked as Caroline pulled her coat over her robes.

“No luck,” she replied a little sadly. “Amara may be permanently damaged. I’m visiting her this weekend.” Even if it was just to leave flowers and make her smile, Caroline couldn’t help but feel sorry for the witch who had been a victim of love and jealousy, and now had no one coming to visit her. “Silas was a lunatic…but he loved her. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to realize he’d cut his string.”

“Love is powerful,” Klaus said with a shrug, “and dangerous.”

“Very,” Caroline agreed. “But at least I still like you.”

Klaus smirked at her cheek, tugging her close as soon as she’d gathered the last of her things. “Only until we both get fired for workplace indecency.”

Caroline hid her smile against him as he tucked her under his arm and pulled her out of the office that was hidden in the back and across the marble floor of the chamber, warm light making her feel safe and loved as it always did. Before they left, Caroline glanced up, at the nest of red strings, each one for soulmates who were out there, already in love or just waiting to find each other.

All that love, with the capacity to become dangerous on the turn of a knife. But then she glanced up at Klaus, who stared back with nothing but adoration.

Love was dangerous. Love was powerful. But she had it, and she wouldn’t trade it for all the magic in the world.

[leftpress]

Russia 1917: the Women’s Day that shook the world

charliethechulo | Shiraz Socialist | March 8th 2017

Russia’s February Revolution Was Led by Women on the March

How the downfall of the Romanovs finally came about 100 years ago

By Carolyn Harris SMITHSONIAN.COM (republished at the US website SocialistWorker.org)

“I can’t remember a single day when I didn’t go hungry…I’ve been afraid, waking, eating and sleeping…all my life I’ve trembled-afraid I wouldn’t get another bite…all my life I’ve been in rags-all through my wretched life – and why?”- Anna, wife of a locksmith in The Lower Depths (1903...

), Maxim Gorky

When we think of the Russian Revolution today, the most well-known event is the Bolshevik Revolution in November 1917 when Vladimir Lenin and the Bolshevik Party seized power, laying the foundation for the creation of the Soviet Union. But 1917 was a year of two revolutions in Russia. First came the February Revolution, which precipitated the collapse of the ruling Romanov dynasty and introduced new possibilities for the future of the Russian state. (Note that below we use the Gregorian calendar dates, even though Russia used the Julian calendar, which was 13 days behind. That’s why the revolution happened in March on the former calendar, but in the titular February on the latter.)

The eventful month brought a too-little-too-late realization on behalf of the Czar, Nicholas II, that three years of fighting in World War had depleted Russian infrastructure. Soldiers faced munitions shortages and the cities suffered through food scarcity. A particularly cold and punishing winter exacerbated the situation. On February 17, Nicholas wrote to his cousin and wartime ally, George V of the United Kingdom, “The weak state of our railways has long since preoccupied me. The rolling stock has been and remains insufficient and we can hardly repair the worn out engines and cars, because nearly all the manufactories and fabrics of the country work for the army. That’s why the question of transport of store and food becomes acute, especially in winter, when the rivers and canals are frozen.”

In his letter, Nicholas assured George that “everything is being done to ameliorate the state of things” but he seems to have hoped that the spring thaw and the eventual end to the hostilities would solve the problem.

His hopes were misplaced, however, as his problems were about to get much worse, especially with his female subjects.

In the country’s urban centers, with men on the battlefield, women took on new roles in the workforce, as they did throughout Europe during the war. Between 1914 and 1917, 250,000 more women began working outside the home for the first time. By the outbreak of the February Revolution, close to one million female workers lived in Russia’s cities, but were paid half the wages of men and endured substandard living conditions. The journalist Ariadna Tyrkova wrote, “Day by day, the war has changed attitudes about woman. It has become increasingly clear that the unseen effort of a woman and her labour often support the entire economy of a country.”

Like the French Revolution in 1789, a bread shortage in the capital precipitated unrest. After long shifts in the factories, female factory workers stood in bread lines alongside other women including domestic servants, housewives and soldiers’ widows. In these bread lines, news and rumors about planned rationing spread. When Saint Petersburg municipal authorities announced on March 4 that rationing would begin ten days later, there was widespread panic; bakeries were sacked, their windows broken and supplies stolen.

As he had throughout the previous months, Nicholas once again underestimated the extent of the unrest and again departed for military headquarters more than 400 miles away in Mogliev, which is now in Belarus, against the advice of his ministers. In the czar’s mind, leadership of the military took precedence during wartime, and he was concerned by the mass desertions occurring in the aftermath of munitions shortages and defeats at the hands of the Germans.

The next day, March 8, was the annual celebration of International Women’s Day. The weather had improved and comparatively warm 23 degrees Fahrenheit temperatures and bright sunshine seemed to encourage crowds to assemble in public spaces. Since 1913, Russian revolutionary factions, including the Bolsheviks, had encouraged women to celebrate the occasion as an opportunity to build solidarity. ..At the textile factories, women went on strike and marched to the metal works to persuade the men employed there to join them.

An employee of the Nobel Engineering works recalled, “We could hear women’s voices in the lane overlooked by the windows of our department: ‘Down with high prices! Down with hunger! Bread for the workers!’ I and several comrades rushed to the windows…Masses of women workers in a militant frame of mind filled the lane. Those who caught sight of us began to wave their arms, shouting ‘Come out! Stop work!’ Snowballs flew through the windows. We decided to join the demonstration.”

By the end of the day 100,000 workers went on strike, holding banners that said “Bread” and “Down with the Czar.” The number of demonstrators increased to 150,000 by the next day. The crowds were swelled by the presence of curious onlookers from all social backgrounds. Street theatres performed scenes from plays including Maxim Gorky’s The Lower Depths, which was widely viewed as an indictment of the treatment of the urban poor under czarist rule.

Nicholas and his wife, Empress Alexandra, who remained at the Alexander Palace just outside Saint Petersburg with their five children, continued to underestimate the seriousness of the discontent. Alexandra was dismissive of the protestors, writing to Nicholas at military headquarters, “The rows in town and strikes are more than provoking…It’s a hooligan movement, young boys and girls running about and screaming that they have no bread, only to excite – then the workmen preventing others from work – if it were very cold they would probably stay indoors. But this will all pass and quieten down – if the Duma would only behave itself – one does not print the worst speeches.”

The Duma, the representative assembly Nicholas reluctantly granted following unrest in 1905, struggled to maintain order as the strikes and demonstrations continued. Duma chairman Mikhail Rodzianko telegraphed Nicholas at military headquarters on March 11, “The government is completely paralyzed, and totally incapable of restoring order where it has broken down…Your Majesty, without delay summon a person whom the whole country trusts, and charge him with forming a government, in which the population can have confidence.” Instead, Nicholas placed his confidence in the military reserves stationed in Saint Petersburg to restore his authority.

Though in past moments of revolutionary sentiment, the military had stood by its czar, by 1917, the armed force was demoralized and sympathetic to the demonstrators’ cause. The presence of large groups of women among the demonstrators made soldiers particularly reluctant to fire on the crowds. When the soldiers joined the demonstrators, as opposed to firing upon them, the end of the Romanov dynasty was near.

In his history of the Russian Revolution, Leon Trotsky, who joined the Bolsheviks in September 1917 and became one of the party’s most prominent figures, wrote, “A great role is played by women workers in the relations between workers and soldiers. They go up to the cordons more boldly than men, take hold of the rifles, beseech, almost command, ‘Put down your bayonets; join us!’” Instead of suppressing the demonstrations, the regiments stationed in Saint Petersburg joined them, expressing their own grievances against the Czarist regime.

In exile in Switzerland, Vladimir Lenin followed events in Russia with interest but he distrusted the growing leadership role of Duma, fearing that the result of the unrest would be the replacement of one privileged elite with another, with the workers and peasants again excluded from any real influence.

The involvement of the military in demonstrations against his rule finally persuaded Nicholas to take the unrest seriously. In the early hours of March 13 , Nicholas departed military headquarters by train to address the collapse of his authority in Saint Petersburg. He would lose his throne over the course of the journey.

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Conflicting COVID Messages Create Cloud Of Confusion Around Public Health And Prevention

Regina Fargis didn’t know what to do.

Fargis runs Summit Hills — a health and retirement community in Spartanburg, South Carolina, that offers skilled nursing, activities and communal meals for its residents, most of whom are over 60, the highest-risk category for coronavirus complications. In South Carolina, more than a hundred new cases were emerging daily. So she took precautions: no visitors, hand sanitizer everywhere and regular reminders for residents about the importance of social distancing.

For a time, it worked. Many similar facilities were hit hard by the virus, but Summit Hills remained COVID-free. Summit Hills’ first cases didn’t emerge until mid-June. Three residents and four employees have now tested positive and are being quarantined. For months, though, Fargis was able to protect her residents.

Still, even under the best circumstances, she couldn’t prevent one thing. By mid-May, two residents had become convinced that the COVID-19 death count — which has surpassed 125,000 people in the U.S. — was a talking point manufactured by Democrats. Some people may be dying, they said, but it wasn’t actually that severe. They didn’t think her precautions were necessary.

“I don’t know how to respond, to tell you the truth,” Fargis said. “If someone has that kind of mindset, what kind of conversation do you have” to convince them of the pandemic’s severity and the need for strict precautions?

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Since the start of the pandemic, the public has been barraged by conflicting messages in part because the country is dealing with a new and still poorly understood virus and in part because politicians and scientists deliver conflicting advice. But rumors, misinformation and outright falsehoods — some intentionally propagated — have also flourished in that cauldron of confusion.

As the nation reopens for business and retreats from protective stay-at-home orders, those widely circulating lies could prove deadly.

NewsGuard, a startup by two former journalists that vets the internet for misinformation, has identified 217 websites in Europe and the United States that publish “materially false” information about COVID-19. The volume is so great that NewsGuard, which was launched to check political fabrications, has pivoted to full-time COVID-19 fact-checking.

The misinformation includes the “Plandemic” video, Facebook posts claiming 5G cell networks cause the virus and articles suggesting it can be cured with garlic or using a combination of hot water with baking soda and lemon.

Health scares always spawn scurrilous stories. But with COVID-19, “there’s lots of opportunity for misinformation,” said Dhavan Shah, a professor of mass communication at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

That is particularly true in the United States, where the coronavirus has somehow morphed into a right-versus-left political issue — and Americans increasingly reject information that doesn’t match their leanings.

Research shows people who support the Trump administration and rely on right-leaning news organizations are more likely to believe the virus has been exaggerated. In general, Republicans are more likely, according to recent polling, than Democrats to think that COVID-19 was never a threat and that the worst is over. That possibly contributed to the push for early reopening in some states that had not met the requirements recommended by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for doing so. In many of them, daily case counts are now spiking. And Republicans are less likely than Democrats to don protective masks, which are believed to reduce the spread of the virus. (President Donald Trump famously has refused to wear a mask in public.)

Groups like anti-vaxxers, conspiracy theorists and immigration opponents have also used the virus to push their own misinformation, per a report from Data & Society, a research institute in New York.

“It’s become a political football now,” said Steven Brill, a co-CEO of NewsGuard. “That tends to get the misinformation and disinformation amplified. People on one side or the other tend to want to amplify what endorses or strengthens their position.”

Misinformation Grows In A Vacuum

Federal health officials from agencies such as the CDC and the Food and Drug Administration usually are tasked with providing the public with understandable, scientifically supported guidance. But the advice from experts like Dr. Anthony Fauci, who heads the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, has consistently been undermined by Trump, who instead touts unproven treatments and frequently challenges the severity of the virus.

In fact, political figures like Trump have held outsize influence in shaping public understanding. “The news feed abhors a vacuum,” said Jeff Hancock, a professor of communication at Stanford University who has studied the implications of COVID misinformation. “Since the expertise of the CDC and others have been called into question … it exacerbates the problem.”

Experts’ initial confusion about how to respond to a new virus has also allowed for suspicion. When the coronavirus arrived in the United States, the prevailing thought was that asymptomatic patients couldn’t spread it and that people needn’t wear face coverings. Subsequent studies reversed those judgments.

All that helps explain why falsehoods took hold. Researchers from the University of Oxford’s Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism reviewed 225 pieces of online misinformation about COVID-19. Misinformation spread by political figures and celebrities made up only 20% of the sample but accounted for 69% of engagement.

Independent groups, including NewsGuard and Hancock’s Stanford Social Media Lab, have launched projects meant to combat misinformation — teaching older people through peer-to-peer tutoring to navigate digital content or launching websites that point people toward more credible data and analysis. But these efforts, usually difficult, are almost impossible now in the age of social distancing.

The “volume and velocity” of social media spread means claims spread farther, faster, Shah said.

At Summit Hills, the politicization of COVID-19 has “without a doubt” made it harder for Fargis, its executive director, to convince her residents — many of whom would typically look to the federal government for credible information — of the pandemic’s severity.

Some cons deliberately target seniors, offering more than misinformation: Bad actors pretended to have access to their victims’ stimulus checks, asking for bank account and Social Security information. Others sell fake protective equipment.

At Hebrew SeniorLife, a hospital and living center in Massachusetts, which operates rehab centers and senior-living facilities around the Boston area, misinformation and online scams — such as fake fundraisers on Facebook for first responders — are serious concerns, said Rachel Lerner, the organization’s general counsel.

Older Americans experience a “perfect storm,” Hancock said. “They’re more susceptible to the virus. They are targets of misinformation and online scams at a much higher rate than regular folks are.”

When South Carolina began opening up, Fargis decided to see if the numbers of new COVID-19 cases declined significantly before lifting precautions. Now, with the virus in her facility, she has no intention of letting up social distancing rules and other prevention strategies.

And since May, at least one of her residents has since come around to understanding the pandemic’s severity. But another, she said, still emails her arguing that the virus has been overblown or that social distancing does not work and suggesting that unproven medicines — like hydroxychloroquine or beta-glucans — can treat or prevent the illness.

“We’d all be far better off if we kept those nonsensical remarks out of the news,” she said. “The more misinformation we have, the more likely we are going to have lives at stake.”

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