#(( i know it was probably just them knee jerk blocking bc i have to follow from a Personal but urgh. it makes me really frustrated sometimes

[radiovisual]

(( WOOF got myself a little bummed out over smthn--not the baby stuff dw that shit was hilarious i loved it--but yeah i might be a bit spacey actually tonight, sry kings 💔

[rhenuvee]

The Heart in You (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to be a turtle when using Tumblr bc I’m new? My dumbass couldn’t find the delete button- dEaDaSs cLoWnErY right here.

Summary: Both you and Fred are known to have a playful type of rivalry, and none of you two want to be the first to ‘be nice’ to the other. But one day he starts acting weird, and you start feeling bad. 

Warnings: swearing :0

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

——————————

Yours and Fred’s rivalry was known to almost everyone in Hogwarts.

You were sort of friends, sure. You had most classes with each other, and sat next to him in Charms. You weren’t always a jumpy type of person, in fact before Fred started annoying you, you were quite shy. You couldn’t bother to remember when the bickering started.

He called you names, stole your belongings, bumped into you purposely in the halls, and now blocked your way when getting out of class. And the worst part, he did it all with that stupidly attractive smile of his. Merlin, how silly did you have to be to be distracted by someone where only their smile could make your knees go weak?

Fifteen seconds left... 

It was almost like the clock was giving you anxiety.

“Class...” started Professor Snape with his slow, dramatic tone of voice. You didn’t want to give Snape the impression that you hated his class, but just this once, you had to be the first one to exit. You moved your leg slightly out of the seat, and your hand gripped your bag tightly, swung over your shoulder.

“... dismissed-”

You dashed for the door immediately, and rather sloppily, probably broke or crumpled up things in your bag, but you didn’t care. To your dismay, you collided with a tall, red headed, figure, smiling right down at you. 

“Nice try princess.” You looked up to lock your gaze with none other than Fred. His smirk met with your scowl.

“Fred stop blocking my way!” You protested, trying to push him out of the way. Sadly, with his years playing as beater, it didn’t take much force for him to use his arms and stay in place.

He used his tall stature to block the doorway of the classroom, with his arm stretched out so you couldn’t get out. This wasn’t a first, in fact, you lost count a few weeks ago. He made you late to quite a few classes and meals. 

A few students exiting gave both of you weird looks, and most treating it as if this wasn’t the first time this happened- because well, it wasn’t. 

“Come on lovebirds, there’s plenty more time at lunch to flirt.” said George. He too seemed tired of your bullshit as he leaned on the wall outside of the class. You huffed as you fixed yourself up, and made an ugly face at Fred. He in turn made a kissy face back at you, which made you rush out the door, with your face flushed red.

That annoying jerk, you thought, he always knew how to get to you. But he wasn’t done with you yet. You made your way to the Gryffindor table and sat across from Angelina. The twins as usual, came bouncing in right behind you and sat next to you, one on each side.

“You know love, if you kept making that face it might get stuck like that.” He said leaning with his elbow on the table. “Oh and how would you know that hm? Is it because it happened to you?” you shot back. But deep inside you knew that wasn’t true- it was the last thing his face would be, he was gorgeous. George ooed at your statement and Angelina rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Liar liar as always (y/n), when will you admit that you’re mad for me.” he said cheekily. Of course he had something to say back that would make your face red. “Another day...” sighs Angelina resting her hand on her forehead.

-----

Your body tensed when Professor McGonagall asked everyone to find partners to practise dancing. None of the boys seemed willing to get up from their seat, who would want to practise with you, let alone ask you to the ball? 

“C’mon let’s go.” said Angelina taking your hand and leading you to the twins. Oh no, not them, not Fred... 

“George would you like to practise with me?” Angelina asked. “Yeah, sure.” replied George before winking to you and Fred. You stood there frozen with your brows furrowed, how could they? 

“Well, let’s get to it darling.” he said. “Tch, whatever.” you muttered turning away from his gaze, and getting slightly hotter when he put his one hand on your waist and the other linked with your hand. 

You kept looking back at McGonagall, trying to follow her steps, and also down at your feet a lot. To be honest, you didn’t want to meet Fred’s eyes. A few minutes later, you realized he hadn’t said anything or teased you at all. You slowly lifted your head to see what was up. 

You were surprised to see his head was also down, looking at his feet. He looked up when he felt your gaze, but instead of his usual smirk and flirty one-liner, you were met with an expression you haven’t seen. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, cheeks with a tiny bit of pink, and eyes filled with... confusion, or concern? 

“Sorry love, I almost stepped on your foot there.” he said sheepishly. This was new. You weren’t sure if he was playing or being genuine. “It’s okay.” you reply quietly, unsure of his behaviour.

Midway through the lesson, you could count the number of times he said “Sorry” or “My apologies darling.” It was quite a lot of times, and the weirdest part was that he seemed truly sorry for accidentally stepping on you a few times. You appreciated that he apologized, but this was strange. When Professor McGonagall announced that the dance lesson was finished, you both sighed, and just stood there for an awkward moment. 

“Reckon whoever’s going to the ball with me will have an interesting dance.” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah...” you said softly.

“So how was it?” asked George as he and Angelina came over from their spot. “Couldn’t really get it...” replied Fred looking down at his hands. Was he... embarrassed? 

Suddenly you felt a little guilty for spurting insults at him earlier, and for hitting him in the arm with your books, and calling him names. Yes, he had done the same too, but it wasn’t like someone as confident as him to get embarrassed and shy. You hoped that it wasn’t your continuous back and forth that made him feel worse of himself.

---

This weird behaviour continued into the next week. People around you were shocked to see you both dialed down at least 50%. You hated to admit it, but you secretly missed the playful banter you had with him.

The Yule Ball was coming closer, and you still didn’t have a date. “Go with Fred.” said Angelina casually. “Are you joking?” you asked. 

“Oh? And I thought you both calmed down and finally admitted your feelings to each other.” You groaned at her statement. Alicia and Katie came over. “(Y/n), why can’t you see that he fancies you too?” asked Katie. 

“W-well even if he does, I don’t think he does anymore...” you said timidly. “He’ll probably say yes anyway (y/n).” said Alicia reassuring you.

You pursed your lips. They knew you liked him, and you hated that. You were a girl who rivalled against him, both competing for a better argument and the last word. You were told constantly that he flirted with you because he fancied you. Some of your retorts you admit might’ve been a bit much, so why would he like you after all that?

---

The next day, you walked in the Charms classroom with a weird feeling in your stomach. You felt even weirder when Fred plopped himself down, and put his stuff down on the floor of his side? Usually he dropped his belongings smack in the middle, invading your space, claiming he needed ‘more room for his long limbs’, and that you could spare a bit of your space. 

“Not going to put your stuff here?” you asked. “Didn’t want to disturb you.” he said before turning back to Professor Flitwick.You could tell that he didn’t sound his best, when he said that. But still, shouldn’t he be busy kicking you under the table, or looking over at your parchment?

---

“Fred!” you shouted a little too loudly as you tried to catch up with him after class ended. He turned around and walked back over to you, before waving to his twin telling him he’ll be there later. Your heart already started beating faster.

“Um, a-are you okay?” you asked. Well, that was a bit too general wasn’t it. “Course, why wouldn’t I be?” he smiled at you, until he went back to looking down at his feet, his hair covering part of his face so you couldn’t see it. Now you really felt sorry, you didn’t know what caused him to act less energetic, less loud, less of himself, but you didn’t want to be one of the sources. 

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you were going to hex the girls if this went wrong. “Please (y/n), we wouldn’t want to go without you!” the girls voices from the other day rang in your head. 

“I-I was wondering... if you wanted to go to the Yule ball with me..?” you asked shyly. “Hm?” he hummed, not looking up. 

“Would you like to... gototheYuleballwithme?” you said the last part rather quickly, almost a whisper so no one in the hall could hear you. Your face was beet red, scared to face Fred’s reaction.

...

“Knew you would give in darling.” he said brushing the hair out of his face and smirking at you. The familiar fiery hot boiling feeling began to rise from within you, and unfortunately to your face. “And I would love to go with you.” he said.

“Wh- I- FRED!!” you yelled out of anger and embarrassment. “Always knew you had a heart in you, was just waiting for when you’d show it-” “FRED WEASLEY, YOU’RE SUCH AN ASS!” you yelled frustrated. 

“Aw, it’s okay (y/n), I mean- hey! You there! Guess who asked me to the Yule ball!” he said tapping a random person on the shoulder. “Fred-” “In fact- EVERYONE! GUESS WHO JUST ASKED ME TO THE YULE BALL-” 

“FRED!” you said hitting him in the arm. He was too busy laughing his ass off to feel the pain of your hit. “I hate you.” you hissed, as he calmed down. “I think you’re cute too.” he said sweetly. 

“All that ‘sadness’ since the dance practice for the ball was all an act?” you asked frowning. “Well, I wouldn’t call it sadness. But since you said so- I’m feeling a lot better now that you think I’m handsome.”

“I didn’t say-“

“See you at the ball, love.”  he said bringing his hand softly to the side of your neck to kiss you on the cheek. You froze with your eyes wide. You were ashamed to say that your mind kept replaying the moment. A few seconds later, your mind snapped back to reality, and started going after Fred.

“F-Fred! You can’t just randomly do things like that! Come back here!” you yelled as he too started running. Both your voices echoed in the distance. George and Angelina saw as the two of you rushed by the entrance of the great hall, up to your usual chase.

“How long until you think they get married?” asked Angelina to George.

“Tomorrow.”

—————————

Link to pt 2: Here

[thcmpscn]

another chat brought to you by yours truly. enjoy 🌹 

&. meston fight! context: the aftermath of this.

PRESTON

Ven slams her bedroom’s door and Preston sighs, taking Mona’s phone before shutting the tv off and making his way into their room. Closing the door behind him. “Ramona!”

MONA

is jolted awake by the sound of a door slamming, looks to preston, confused “Hey, baby. What’s going on?”

PRESTON

furrows brows and throws her the phone. “Venecia went through your phone.” pauses “What’s wrong with you, Ramona? It’s been seven years.”

MONA

is suddenly fully awake, chuckles dryly “Of course she did.” sits up in the bed, pulls her knees up to her chest, is silent for a few seconds “I don’t know what to say.”

PRESTON

keeps his voice low, making sure ven couldn’t hear him. “You have absolutely nothing to say to me? - I haven’t read the messages, by the way.”

MONA

sighs, crosses her arms over her chest “Well you’re already mad at me. If I try to explain myself, you’re gonna get even madder.”  picks up the phone and holds it out to him “Read if you want.”

PRESTON

takes a deep breath and takes the phone from her hand and taking a seat next to her, going through the mssgs for a solid 10mins before tossing her the phone again. “You’re in love with him, he’s not in love with you, what’s new? This is how it’s been since the day we met.”

MONA

is on edge the entire time he reads, fidgeting and tapping her fingers, jumps when he tosses the phone, surprised “I guess nothing’s new.”

PRESTON

“Are you ever going to wake up from your little fantasy?” furrows brows at her. “How many times does Fabian gotta reject you for you to understand that man wants nothing to do with you? How many instagram posts he needa make with his wife for you to understand he’s moved on?”

MONA

clenches jaw, is hurt but knows she has no right to be, is quiet for a while “She’s not his wife... And I’ve moved on also.” glances at him for a second before looking away again “Obviously.”

PRESTON

“Maybe she don’t got a ring on his finger but that’s not a girlfriend, that’s a wife. They share a house, a life, that’s not a girlfriend. - Just like you ain’t my girlfriend but still feel the need to act like a kid and go behind my back and tell your ex you love him even though he’s been over you for over seven years.”

MONA

sits silently, stares ahead “You can tell me that I’m in the wrong here without attacking me, you know? Like you don’t have to rub in that he doesn’t feel the same way. I get that.” sighs, turns to face him entirely, places her hand on his “I just.. I don’t know. I needed closure, okay?”

PRESTON

“It is what it is, Ramona.” shrugs, pushing her hands away. “I’m tired of this, it’s been way too long and you still pulling the same exact shit you used to pull and I’m not gonna deal with it this time. I’m way too old for this shit.” stands, shaking his head and exhaling deeply.

MONA

“Are you serious right now, Preston?” quickly stands, blocks his way in case he tries to leave “I put up with you doing literally whatever you want and I can’t send some text messages without you declaring that this is it?” pauses for a second “No. We’re gonna talk about this. We’re gonna talk about all of it. Including you and all the other women.”

PRESTON

“Whatever I do don’t involve getting in my feelings with any other hoe’.” shakes head, walks past her. “It don’t involve me telling them I wish I would’ve left you to go with them.”

MONA

scoffs “Another hoe? Does that make me the first hoe?” rolls eyes, crosses arms over her chest, basically whispers when she remembers that ven is probably listening “Can we just both admit that we’ve both done bad things, but they’re not reason enough to ruin what we have?”

PRESTON

“Not what I said but you’re free to take that as you want.” walks over to his side of the closet. “I’ve done bad things and I admit to that but I can’t be with someone who’s with me when her heart’s somewhere else. Not anymore.”

MONA

“Preston, please stop.” runs over to block him again, places her hands on his shoulders, looks into his eyes “Please.”

PRESTON

turns to face her, sighing. “What can we possibly do or try that we haven’t done or tried already?”

MONA

tears up but does her best to not cry “I don’t know.” sniffles “I really don’t know, but it was really just closure, P. I promise that’s all I was trying to do.” steps even closer to him, rests a hand on his cheek “I love you too, okay? I wouldn’t still be here, 7 whole years later, if I didn’t. This can’t be it for us.”

PRESTON

exhales deeply, shaking his head and gently moving her hand away. “He gave you closure but had he replied any different and offered you a life with him, you wouldn’t be here having this conversation with me right now.”

MONA

is unable to stop a couple of tears from falling “Why don’t you believe me?” holds on tightly to his hand “I love you.”

PRESTON

sighs. “Babygirl, you only love me because he don’t love you.” furrows brows. “You don’t think it pains me knowing you love another man?”

MONA

“I promise that’s not true.” cries some more, still holds onto his hand “And I know it must pain you. It’s probably the same type of pain I feel when you come home smelling like other women, too drunk to even give me straight answers as to where you spend so much of your time.” sniffles “But I ignore all of that. Because I love you and I love us. I was just distracted, okay? Like momentarily distracted and nothing was ever supposed to come out of those messages.”

PRESTON

shakes head at the mention of other women and sighs. “I’m struggling, Ramona. Feeling like an outsider in your own home for seven full years is tough, I gotta cope somehow.” furrows brows, shaking his head again and letting go of her hands. “Just... stop, you’re doing too much.” walks back to the bed. “They only reason I’m not leaving this place tonight is Venecia; I don’t want her to know her games worked and she won.”

MONA

wants to roll her eyes bc that ain’t an excuse but resists, cries even harder when he lets go, follows him obvs “Her games!? She’s a kid Preston. I’m certain her intentions weren’t bad...” sniffles “Is that really the only reason your staying?” reaches out for his hand again

PRESTON

“She knows what she’s doing.” shakes head, pushes her hands again. “Girl, you’re doing too much, stop tryna touch me.” rolls eyes and shaking his head. “I don’t have any other reasons to stay, not at the moment.”

MONA

takes a step back from him, attempts to get herself together “If a 7 year old is the only reason why you’re staying right now, then just go.” wipes her tears away, hoping that no more fall

PRESTON

shakes head, settling into bed. “No, I’m gonna stay and whenever we’re in front of her we’re gonna pretend none of this happened.”

MONA

shakes head, suddenly angry “No. I don’t want you to stay with me just to make a point to my daughter. Go.” grabs his arm and tries to pull him out of the bed “Leave!”

PRESTON

furrows brows at her and gets even angrier when she starts pulling him, roughly jerking his arms to free himself from her grip. “What the fuck are you doing?” gives her a look. “Stop playing and sit down.”

MONA

immediately let’s go, bursts into an entirely new round of tears, dramatically falls to ground and just sits and cries

PRESTON

“For fucks sake, Ramona.” shakes head, looking down at her. “Get off the floor and stop acting like Venecia.”

MONA

totally ignores him, tries to get her crying under control but truly can’t

PRESTON

shakes head, truly annoyed st her reaction. “You do too much.”

MONA

continues to ignore him, highkey waiting for him to just leave if he’s not trying to be nice

PRESTON

takes his shirt off and shakes his head, groaning at how absurd she’s being. “Goodnight, Ramona.” settles on his side of the bed and lays on his side with his back to her.

MONA

cries harder, stays put for like 10 more minutes before eventually standing up, grabbing her phone, and moving to sit out on the couch

PRESTON

ignores her and does his best to fall asleep, eventually succeeding.

[eyes-uncloudedd]

Do you want a lil’ sample of something I wrote after reading about the Maniac Bomber of New York? That sucks bc it’s here. I think I might make a full story out of this, I’ve got a pretty good layout. I don’t know, let me know your thoughts or questions. 

The door slammed shut, the echo of it reverberating throughout the basement. Jimin looked over in shoulder in dismay, he’d have to go out the other door. While it lead out of the room either way, it still was inconvenient since he’d have to cross the floor above him to get back to the proper elevator.

He shrugged and walked over to the large blinking monitors in the corner. He’d have to unplug the blue cord… the blue one… all he saw was red. He sighed and leaned away from the monitors, looking for other ones, whichever might have a blue cord on it.

In the opposite corner of the basement he heard the distinct sound of hollow metal hitting cement floor.

He furrowed his brow and looked to the other corner. The lights were almost all burnt out, but a distant one shone that there was a canister rolling across the floor. He blinked and moved to see what it was. Before he could get two steps, he saw his planned exit door swing shut with a loud bang. It made him jump, and his panic was only heightened when sparks began flying out of the canister that was still rolling towards him.

“Shit!” Jimin exclaimed, backing away from the sparks quickly, almost stumbling over his feet. “Hey!” He called towards the door that had just shut, “What’d you drop?!” His question was answered when a thick cloud of white smoke began floating from the can. Jimin backed away faster, his heart leaping in his chest, “Shit! Shit!” He would have to run through the strange fog to get to the open door and didn’t want to risk it. Instead he ran to the stairs that he’d come from and yanked on the door handle, wishing for a miracle- that somehow it might not have locked like it had every other time. Of course, it didn’t budge. He let out a pathetic whimper.

So, regrettably, he looked to the door on the far side of the room. It’s visage was hazy and Jimin wished he was anywhere else. He didn’t know what was being dispersed around the room and how harmful it could be to him, but he knew that staying in there was probably the worst idea. So he descended the stairs and pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose, like it would do anything.

The second he was submerged in the thick fog his eyes stung like holy hell. He squeezed them shut on impulse and stumbled across the floor, accidentally kicking the still functioning cartridge in the direction he was going, which was the definition of counterproductive. His lungs began to burn and his sinuses hurt. He dropped his shirt from his face with a shaking hand and grappled for the wall that the door was on. A cough jerked its way out of his system and after the first one he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t see or speak and everything hurt and he was pretty sure he was going to puke if he wasn’t already.

He slid his hands down the wall, following it with stumbling feet until he found the indention of the door. He couldn’t even make room for relief when his entire system burned. He gripped the knob and found himself rattling it.

Somebody had jammed it closed.

He let out a cry in between gut wrenching, heaving coughs. He fell forward on the door, his hands balled into fists. He repeated the action as many times as he could, banging on the metal with as much strength as he could muster. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the saliva dripping from his lips with each cough.

He hit the door again and again until it finally gave way and he fell forward, tumbling out of the room.

“What the hell-”

Jimin fell onto his hands and knees, trying to breath in as much clean air as he could between coughs.

By the time Jimin’s heaving calmed down he could hear a woman yelling, “Oh my God! Somebody call the police- an ambulance! There’s a- What- Oh my God!”

Somebody grabbed Jimin by the shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. He groaned as he felt saliva dribble down his chin. He couldn’t open his eyes and he was still coughing, just a little less.

“What happened? Are you okay?!”

Jimin moved his mouth slowly, wondering if he could even speak, “Gas,” he croaked, “I couldn’-” he was cut of by a horrible, pained cough, “It hurts,” he groaned, “hurts…” He couldn’t even tell who was talking to him, his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Like Jimin was moving anytime soon.

It was when the lady was gone that he realized there were other voices. Murmurs of other conversations, but he couldn’t process what they were saying.

“I don’t know…”

“Did you see the…”

“... terrorist attack?”

“Is anybody doing anything?”

“...go over there.”

Heavy footsteps approached him. “Are you okay?”

Jimin nodded slowly, still not opening his eyes. He rubbed at them fruitlessly, hoping to rid them of the stinging pain infecting them.

“Can you look at me?”

This time Jimin shook his head, “Eyes… They hurt.”

A hand was set on his cheek, directing him to look to his right. “You look like you got pepper sprayed, what the hell?”

Jimin coughed weakly. He felt worn and his heart was still pounding in his chest and everything just hurt so much.

“Okay,” the same lady from before was back, her heels clicking on the floor, “I have a water bottle, you should flush out your eyes first. Then we can take you to a sink when you can see.”

Jimin nodded, holding out a hand blindly for the bottle that was soon thrust into his hand. He fumbled around to remove the cap before realizing his co worker had already done it for him. He tipped back his head and poured the water on his closed eyes, parting them ever so slightly.

“Has anybody called… I dunno- Namjoon?”

“I did, he said he’s on his way down.”

Jimin didn’t even care about getting his clothing wet, so he continued pouring the water over his eyes until the bottle was empty.

“Here,” the woman replaced the empty bottle in his hand with a soft cloth, “a towel, wipe off your eyes.”

Jimin nodded and rubbed his face, keeping the towel shading his eyes before he cracked them open, praying that the pain would go down. It wasn’t too bad in the darkness of the towel, but when he moved it slightly and the light hit his retinas, he closed them again. They didn’t hurt so much anymore, just sensitive. “Okay,” his voice was raspy and pained, “I can use the sink now.”

A hand reached out and gently pulled his bicep upwards, leading him from the ground and onto shaking legs. He shielded and arm over his eyes and peeked out to see where he was going. His head was pounding like nothing else.

Heavy feet approached quickly, “What happened?!” and Jimin looked over to see Namjoon looking frazzled and very, very worried. “Somebody got pepper sprayed?”

“What’s your name sweety?” The lady next to Jimin asked quietly.

“Jimin,” he whispered weakly, “Park Jimin.”

The woman nodded and looked over at Namjoon, “I don’t know the complete story, but I was just at my desk down the hall when I heard somebody banging on the door to the computer room. I was confused, so I came to see what was happening. There was a chair jammed under the door knob and Jimin was locked inside. When I opened it he practically collapse, and all this smoke and stuff floated out after him. It hurt my eyes to just be near it, I think Jimin was standing in it. Somebody had locked him in.”

Namjoon had been listening closely, his eyes trained on the woman until she mentioned Jimin and his alarm was turned on the wrecked assistant. He didn’t even notice him until the woman had pointed him out. “Jimin-ah?” he walked over it quickly and grabbed Jimin’s heated cheek with one hand the arm blocking his eyes with the other.

“Ah, please don’t Namjoon.” Jimin squeaked as the older man moved to see his face, “The light is hurting my eyes, I can hardly see.”

“You sound awful. Did somebody attack you?” Namjoon removed his hand from Jimin’s arm but kept one on his face, feeling the warmth emanating from his cheeks and neck.

Jimin shrugged, “I don’t know. All I saw was the can rolling on the floor-” he stopped to cough weakly, “and then it started spitting out smoke and stuff. I tried to get out, but the doors were locked.”

“A can?”

“Yeah, somebody was in the room that I hadn’t seen and they dropped it. The only reason I knew they were there to begin with was when I heard the door shut.” Jimin swallowed, his throat burned. He really needed to get to a sink and wash off his face.

The older woman next to him seemed to notice his anxiety to get to a bathroom. “I’m going to help him wash off his face and such. We’ll be back.”

“I’ll get him another water bottle.” Namjoon mumbled, turning around to go to the nearest fridge.

“Uh, sir?” Somebody further down the hall called. The man was standing in front of the ajar tech room door.

Namjoon looked over, “Hey, careful, there’s still fumes in there.”

“You might want to see this.” The man pointed inside the room, his eyes wary. “There’s something written on the can.”

Namjoon stalked over, quickly moving past the man in the doorway and into the room. His eyes began to sting, but it was nothing more than a little welling of tears. He scrunched up his nose and moved to look at the empty canister.

That’s not all.

[sancocnutclub]

Deep down into the cave 1/?

Summary: Emma is missing and Killian will do whatever it takes to find her back, enven if it means making a deal with the dear old crocodile...

Warmings: a bit of graphic description tho except blood, broken bones, bruises, burns, there will not be big whump here ^^ 

Also it’s a non-beta work soooo be gentle with the tense mistakes or wrong words ^^’

Note: So here we go, first try to write some whump. I’ve done this on a RPG in french so i’m trying to ytranskate it so we all can enjoy some torture between Gold and Killian. It’s not a bug stuff but i’m trying to make it so we all have feels for Killian. Anyway, I would really really really apreciate ome feedback, even if it’s 3 words, positive or not what i could change to make it better blablabla. 

tagging my cocnut-san @killian-whump​ @justsomewhump​ it’s bc of you if i strated this haha

Killian knew better than to trust the crocodile but with Emma missing just as the rest of the ones having light magic, he only has the old crocodile to help him find a way back to Emma.

That’s how he ended up at the storybook port right next to his ship waiting for the Dark One to come. As dramatic as he was they agreed to meet when the moon would be up in the sky. It was a full moon, lighting all the bay in its soft silver light. Killian was someone quite patient; well usually. Emma was missing and not finding her was putting him on the edge. And waiting for Rumple to show his blasted face at the docks wasn’t helping. But eventually around midnight he arrives in his red Cadillac.

To his view, Kilian’s heart skipped a beat as he held his breath before walking toward the old man.

“ You have it?” his voice almost a command because of the tension building inside him every minute passing. “ Nice to see you too captain…” “ I have already waste enough time waiting for you Gold. Do you have it yes or not?” “ Yes, I have what you need, pirate.”

He brought his hand to his coast and brigs out a small flask. Before the dark-haired man react, Gold threw the small vial in the air. Killian having barely enough time to catch it before it hits the floor. Once secured in his hand he threw a dark glare to the man in from of him who simply watch him as if his move hasn’t been perilous. Totally the opposite of Killian. His heart was beating fast in his chest as the adrenaline was fading. He took a deep breath through his nose before raising the vial in front of his eyes. The liquid was almost transparent though with the light of the moon it has pearly reflections, almost electric. This was supposed to help him find Emma back. At least that was what the Dark One has certified to him. Speaking of, the man was still looking at him like he was waiting for something and it sent Killian’s senses on hight alert. Something was wrong.

“That’s all? No deal? No favor?” Killian asked Gold, his eyebrow lifting. But he only earned a creepy smile from Gold. Shit. This was all wrong and he was feeling it, his jaw clenching waiting for more from the man but after five minutes there were still looking at each other in the blank of the eye.

“Is this really going to work? I know you crocodile, you wouldn’t hand me this like that. What are you up to?” Killian grew angry and walk until he was facing Gold. “I’m going to wonder if you have a brain…YES this potion will lead you right to Miss Swan” the end of his sentence being spoke between his teeth.  “Now if you don’t want it, hand it back and go back to your beloved ship…”.

But Killian took quickly a few steps back. There was no way he let the crocodile go away with the only solution he had for now. Taking one last look at the old man, swallowing his fear, Killian looked down at the flask in his hand popping the cap with his thumb. He will do what is necessary to take back his Swan. He lifts the vial to his lip but the pungent smell makes him jerks away. And all at once his fear came back, his throat squeezing tight. What if all of this was just a trap? What if this killed him and he never get to see Emma again? And as if all these questions weren’t enough, he could feel the gaze of Gold on him even if his eyes were locked on the shimmering potion. He was starting to struggle to breath as his hand was threating him to let go of the flask at any second.  I will always find you.  The world echo in his mind and it was all he needed to bring the vial to his lips and drink down in one the content. Killian straighten up, feeling the liquid going down his throat, leaving an awful taste in his mouth but it was all. Nothing had happened, he was still alive, still a little bit tensed but the voice in his mind had shushed. Gold gave him a “told-you-so” look before turning on his heals heading back to his car. 

But at the same time the vial hit the floor breaking into pieces. Killian brought his hand to his throat, images of the electric and pearly liquid flashing in front of his eyes, his pupils going wild. As soon as he got his sight back his heart vibrated in all his body leaving his ears with a unpleasant white noise as he tried to process what was happening to him. “B-Bastard” was the only thing his body let him says before he shuts his eyes as his throat started to burn. It soon started to tingle, the sensation spreading through his whole body, making it impossible to move without feeling his members go numb. The fluid leaving a burn after it passage as it travelled down his body. Killian was biting his lips, trying to keep the pain for him, not wanting to let see his enemy but it soon became impossible. Small grumbles were escaping his closed mouth as his body started shivering. Seconds later, the tremors became more intense, forcing Killian to stumble until he was down on his knees his hand still on his throat as if applying pressure was going to slow down the effect of the potion now inside his blood. Jones was trying to regain control on his body but he was assault by a new powerful beat from his heart followed by an intense pressure in his lugs making it impossible to breath. He was gasping for air, his vision blurred as tears started to form. Except the more he was trying to fill his lungs with air the more he was choking, his head was spinning as the fire inside his torso was growing, burning everything inside him. The next second he was holding himself up with his hand as he couldn’t stay upright anymore. Tears of pains were rolling on his face as his body started to convulse. He couldn’t control anything and the docks were soon filled by his whimpers as he falls on his side instinctively curling himself in a fetal position. His body shaking uncontrollably, his lungs still on fire and now he felt as his head was going to blow up. Killian started to sob, his hand pulling his hair trying to ease the pain. He was going to die in a painful death as Emma was somewhere in danger. All because he has trusted the crocodile and he’s hating himself for this. However, the pain seemed to lessen a bit giving enough time for Killian to reopen his eyes and slowly catch his breath even if his body hasn’t stopped from shaking. Then it hit his mind: he needed to get out of his body what he had drunk. Trying to put his weigh on his left elbow, Killian managed to put two shaking fingers in his mouth, pushing them down until his stomach heaves so his body evacuate the poison. But it didn’t help, it was even worst now. His stomach being assault by spams in addition to the convulsions of his body. Without a warning, a sharp pain strikes his back right in his spin obligating Killian to arc his back in a scream of pain. This time was the good one. His hand reaches his chest, trying desperately to rip the burning off. A few second later his skin was red, his voice hoarse because of the intense screams. Pearl of blood stuck on his chest hair, staining his shirt.

While the pirate was struggling on the cold asphalt, Gold was returning, a rough rope and duck tape between his hands. But he didn’t do anything once he was 2 meters away from the body on the floor, simply watching his pray succumbing to the drug he created just for him. A couple minutes later, Killian’s body started to calm, only flinching from time to time. He was unconscious, drooling on him, eyes close shut, pain readable on his face, Gold free to do what he wanted.

- - - - - -

The first thing Killian noticed was the change of position of his body. The last thing he was able to recall was that he was lying on his back, his scream feeling the silence of the usual quiet docks. But now he was up; well sitting on something…He opened slowly his eyes, blinking but he couldn’t see anything. He tried to move but it seems he was blocked, just able to move slightly his head only to found he couldn’t see anything else and that his head was still spinning, the sound of his blood covering every other sound he could have heard. But after what felt like ages, he finally started to focus his gaze on a small shacking light in front of him, water drop splashing on the floor at regular intervals. He deduced that he was probably locked on a chair in what should be a cave or something alike; wet, cold with barely enough light so his vision can detect something in a small perimeter. He tried to move again but his arms and legs were blocked too…Wanting to sight, Killian realized he couldn’t open his mouth, quickly breathing through his nose to avoid suffocate. He needed to keep calm. He wasn’t dead yet so he still has some chance to get out of where he was. Or that what he thought. Second later, the light became brighter to reveal the full place and a man.

Killian was sure of three things: first, he was on a win cave, roped from the head to toes to a chair. Two, the man standing in front of his was no one but Gold himself. And third, this was bad. Really bad. He had barely regained his tough that he knew he was going to suffer more in the coming seconds, minutes, hours…who know with the Dark One? Killian stared to struggle against the rope, grunting each time with the pain awaking through his body that wasn’t totally operational yet, members still numb from whatever he has drunk before. And Rumple was staring at him, an evil smile on his lips, already savouring his plan…

This was going to hurt the hell out.

[iwillbeinmynest]

Run Boy Run- Steve x Reader(f)

Authors Notes: Okay, I’m sorry. I can’t take complete credit for how terrible this is though. @oneshot-shit answered my ask for angst and they inspired me to write this. So, It’s not just me. I wasn’t able link to the post bc it was an ask :/ but I sent in a song headcanon ask for Run Boy Run by Woodkid.

Notes/Warnings: Death, Angst, Fluff, mentions of blood. (Reader dies so please do not read this if it makes you uncomfortable!!)

“Come on, Pal.” Bucky lifted Steve’s head and gave him a frown. “You’re bleeding on my new shirt.”

 Steve inhaled slowly and tried his best to hold his head up on his own. He gripped Bucky’s shirt near the shoulder and grunted as his friend helped him up off the ground. Bucky slapped him on the chest a couple of times and grinned to the people passing by.

 “He’s fine.” He smiled to a woman walking her poodle. “Have a lovely day, Ma'am.”

 “Thanks for pitching in, Buck.” Steve mumbled as he prodded at his busted lip.

 “Nah, I didn’t do much.” Bucky lied. “They deserved it.”

 “All your boxing lessons are payin’ off huh?”

 Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, that’s it, the boxing. Come on, let’s get you home.”

 Steve stopped and forced Bucky to back step from his arm being around Steve’s small frame. “I can’t go home, not like this. Mom’ll kill me.”

 Bucky sighed and surveyed his surroundings. “(Y/N)’s house it is then. Good thing you picked a fight a few blocks away.” Bucky smirked.

 “I didn’t pick a fight.”

 “Oh, that’s right, the fights always pick you.” Bucky laughed and helped his friend across the street.

 Steve sucked his teeth and grimaced. “Ow.”

 “Well, it wouldn’t hurt if you’d be still.” (Y/N)’s voice brought a smile to his face, it made his lip sting. She wiped the blood from his nose, carefully before getting him an ice pack. When she handed him the ice, he held her hand for a moment and smiled up at her, that toothy smile that made her heart flutter.

 “Thanks, doll.” He grinned.

 “Always.” She leaned down and kissed his hair, followed by smoothing it back to place.

 Bucky rolled his eyes but smiled. “You two make me sick.”

 “You need to get yourself a girl, James.” (Y/N) called from the kitchen with a smile in her voice.

 “I can’t find one as good as you and can’t steal my best friends girl. What kind of man would that make me?” He scrunched his nose and smiled at Steve who looked back to see her reaction. Her shoulders shook with soft laughter as she cleaned the blood stained rag at the sink.

 “Why do you call me James?” He asked as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against. He sat down by Steve at the table and took the glass of water she had set out for Steve, and chugged it.

 “Because,” (Y/N) grabbed the pitcher of water out from the fridge and an extra glass. “That’s the name your mother gave you.”

 She refilled Steve’s glass and poured Bucky his own. She ran a hand down from the crown of Steve’s head to the top of his back, the way a wife would her husband, which is what she hoped she would be one day.

 “You’re not my mom, though.” Bucky countered.

 “Lucky you.” She winked. “I’d’ve whipped you into a more respectable man.”

 “I’m respectable!” He raised his voice a little and it made all of them laugh.

 “What happened to you anyways?” She asked Steve as she returned the water back to the fridge.

 “Here it comes.” Bucky mumbled just loud enough for Steve to hear.

 “I, uh,” Steve put down his ice pack and stared at his hands on the table. “Just some guys being jerks, that’s all.”

 “Just some guys being jerks?” (Y/N) stood by Steve with her hands on her waist.

 “Yeah, (Y/N), that’s it.” Steve looked up at her quickly, trying to convince her that really was all there was to it, but she knew better.

 “Mhm, and who were they being jerks to?” She grabbed a chair and scooped her red floral dress under her as she sat. Steve’s eyes landed on Bucky who shook his head.

 “She’s your girl, you tell her.” Bucky put his hands up in surrender, knowing better than to be the one to tell (Y/N) what happened.

 “Steven.” Her tone was stern but her eyes were worried.

 Steve took both of her hands and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the inevitable reprimanding he’d get when he was done. “I was walking to meet Buck at the book shop I’ve been telling you about. I passed Rick and-”

 (Y/N) groaned, “Rick. Can’t he go one day with out picking at you?”

 “He said somethings about you as he passed, rude things…” He went on slowly.

 “Steve…” (Y/N) huffed.

 He jumped to the defensive and let go of her hands, leaning back in his chair. “(Y/N), I’m not going to just let him talk about you like that. He’s  jerk and deserved it.”

 (Y/N) got up from her chair and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a rag and began washing the dishes. That was her thing, she always found something to clean when she was upset.

 “I’ll come see you two, tomorrow.” Bucky said quietly. “I assume you’ll be taking the couch here?” Steve nodded. “Okay, I’ll call your mom and tell her you’re at my place.”

 “Thanks, Buck, for everything.”

 “Sure thing, Pal. Now, go get your girl.” He winked and slipped out of the front door.

 Steve poked at the ice pack on the table that was starting to sweat from thawing out and he listened to the way she cleaned. if there was a lot of banging around, she was angry. If she was quiet and there were no irregular clangs or bumps, she was sad. Tonight it was sad.

 Steve wandered into the kitchen and stood behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He loved her small frame, it didn’t make him feel so tiny beside her. Her heels were off so, his chin fit against the crook of her neck, perfectly.

 “Doll…”

 She put her dish down and shut off the water. “You can’t keep doing this, Steve. It breaks my heart.”

 Steve turned her around and put his hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

 Her eyes watered and it killed Steve to watch. “You always say that.”

 “I mean it this time,” He said as he wiped the first tear that fell. “Honest. No more fights. I’ll walk away.”

 “That’s not who you are.” She placed her hand over his and leaned into it.

 “I’ll change. If that’s what I need to do to make this keep working, I’ll do it.” His eyes were honest and she knew he meant it but she also knew him inside and out.

 He can’t walk away from fights and with the war just starting she knew he had probably already tried to enlist several times behind her back. He was a good man, kind and just. He couldn’t stand to let someone bully others, he always had to do something about it.

 “Don’t change,” She smiled and when her cheeks raised they pushed out the remaining tears. “I love the man you are.”

 Steve woke the next morning, stiff from his sleep in the couch. He never considered asking to sleep in (Y/N)’s bed though, that would compromise her as a lady.

 Her apartment was quiet for 8 am. He headed into the kitchen and looked for signs that she had been in there. He found the dishes had been put away and a bowl of fruit out on the table. Under the bowl was a note in her handwriting.

   Went out for milk and eggs. Be back soon.

        I love you.

  Steve smiled, not too wide in fear he’d rip open his lip again, it had already scabbed up nicely, but just enough to feel his cheeks rise. He loved her handwriting. He loved the way she wrote ‘Love’. He loved her.

 Steve jumped at the vicious banging on the front door. Who ever was on the other side was either in desperate need for help or had something malicious planned for Steve.

 “Steve! Steve, open up!” Bucky’s frantic voice was slightly muted by the wood that separated them. “STEVE!”

 “Alright, alright!” Steve swung the door open quickly and had to dodge Buclys fist that was about to bang on the door again. “Buck, what the-”

 “Steve,” Bucky’s eyes were wet and the look of terror on his face had Steve stomach drop to his feet. “It’s (Y/N). There’s been an accident.”

 The words barely left Bucky’s panting lips and Steve was outside the door and rushing down the stairs. Thank goodness he was fully dressed from yesterday, although he did forget his shoes.

 “Where is she?” Steve called to Bucky who was already passing him again.

 “The street in front of Daisy’s Grocery. Mrs. Daisy called me as soon as it happened.”

 “The street?”

 Bucky didn’t look back when he answered. “She was hit by a car.”

 Steve willed his feet to move faster, for his lungs to keep working but it was no use. He wasn’t a runner. He wheezed and cramped but, he. kept. moving.

Bucky flew ahead of him and left Steve in the dust. Steve tripped on his own feet and scraped his knees, tearing a hole in both legs of his slacks, but he kept going. For her he would always keep going.

 Somehow, he made it. He found the crowd that had gathered and struggled to push his way through it. But he did. And he was going to be sick.

 Bucky shielded him from the gruesome scene and wrapped his arms around Steve. He cried as Steve tried to push away from him, as he tried to get closer to the girl he loved.

 “You don’t need to see this.” Bucky tried to reason.

 “Move, Bucky.” Steve warned, his voice hard but fearful. He ducked out of Bucky’s loosening grasp and fell to his knees beside (Y/N). But he was too late, she was gone. He could tell by the dimness of her eyes and the coolness of her skin. She had been his whole world. She was the reason he fought so hard. She was his. She was going to be his forever, that’s how it’s supposed to go.

 Steve cried, right there in the middle of the street, in front of everyone. Shame on them for watching, for invading in his last moment with her. It wasn’t their moment to witness. Bucky sat on the asphalt beside them and cried as he held (Y/N)’s hand.

 Steve brushed some hair out of her face and whimpered when he saw a gash across her forehead. Somehow, even in this terrible moment of morbidity, she managed to still be the most beautiful girl here.

 “I’m so sorry.” He whispered through his sobs. “I love you so much.” He strained to cradle her against him bit he did it and he rocked her back and forth until he was physically removed from the scene. And he put up his best fight to be taken from her.

 Bucky had to rip him from her side.

Forever tags:

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