#i hope he croacks

[neimiismycoolgirlname]

Lady Diana, in heaven, after hearing Charles was in the hospital

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

You are my heart you know? (hanjisung)

Tw: anxiety, panic attack

The last few feet till you get to park in your driveway seem to last for fucking ever. You keep blinking away your tears furiously, your blurry vision getting progressively worse as you can feel the sting of your own salt and makeup and sunscreen mixing in on your eyelids, slowly dropping into your eyes. Maybe some snot mixed in it as well.

You feel gross. You're pretty certain you also look just as gross as you feel with your 3 days post wash hair tied up in a loose ponytail, your forehead shiny with sweat, your clothes sticking to you with wet stains after you had to run to catch your train back from 8 and a half exhausting hours of work.

And then it started pouring and you got stuck in the traffic on your way back home from the train station and you were always a nervous driver with or without the rain so when you foot slipped on the breaks at a last second red light and the driver behind you aggressively slammed down on the horn you just lost it.

You started crying and breathing erratically as a full blown anxiety attack threatened to overwhelm you. You had gripped the steering wheel so tight your wrists started to hurt but you didn't care, you just needed to focus ahead on the road and get home as soon as possible, you desperately tried to puff out your cheeks while breathing in and then slowly blow them out as you concentrated on breathing out, the rhythmic motion momentarily helping you calm down just long enough for you to safely reach home.

With your car now safely turned off and the hand brake set, you finally let it all out. The overflowing tears, the shaky hands, the tremble on your lips. You lean forward on the wheel and cover your face with your hands, sobbing and shaking in your seat as anxiety engulfs you at last.

Thinking it was just exhaustion at first, you presumed you were just having a bit of a meltdown from all the stress and chaos and the insomnia that had gripped your mind for over a month now, but then the spiraling over thinking took over and the awful awful feeling of being on the verge of collapsing from the inside out followed and you knew you just had been bottling in too much.

This episode was just all the other anxiety episodes combined together after weeks of repressing and pushing them back down and swallowing down the knot in your throat while at work for many more times than you can actually recollect.

The slightly distorted sound of your ringtone suddenly cuts in the relative quietness of your car and you're forced to shake off the worst of your panicky state and take a deep breath despite your chest constricting on itself and your fast heartbeat that made it feel like you could not inhale enough oxygen at a time.

"Hey baby! I can see your in the drive way, why don't you come in? ", Han's bright and chirpy voice fills your ear and for a second you smile, though the tears fly straight in your mouth and you quickly dab the back of your hand on your cracked lips, tasting the sweat and tears collecting there, "h-hi", you croack, forcing down another sob and just hoping he did not catch onto the strain in your tone.

"I'm right outside. I'm - I'm looking for something that fell from my purse, I'll be there in a sec", you add and it's all you can manage to say without sounding too sospicious before you cover your mouth once again, muffling the sound of you chocking on your own tears the best you can, "sure... Okay", Han doesn't sound too convinced on the other end of the line but he doesn't press on and the call is over before you can even click on the red phone button.

Sighing, you reach for your purse, slip your phone inside it but your hands are too shaky and it slides right down the underside of the passenger seat and even if you scramble to catch it, accidentally bumping your hand on the shift, you distinctly hear it rattle down the rails beneath the seat, the screen definitely cracking on impact and it takes all within you not to just scream your lungs out in frustration. You just cry even harder.

And it comes heavily. A downpour on your cheeks and your neck and your lap. You wail like an actual infant and loose control of your breathing as it goes spasmodic, your chest cramping and your throat burning with the effort: "alright, that's it. That's enough". Han's swift arms are around you in a millisecond.

He comes out of nowhere and you barely register what's happening, you just find yourself all pressed up against him, his arms wrapping tightly around you, "looking for something that fell from your bag ay?", he chuckles softly, a bittersweet edge to his tone as he carefully manouvers you out of your seat and then out of the car as well, not once letting go of you.

The short walk from your car to your front door feels like a daze. You can feel the rain coming down on you, your hair getting damp and wet and then your clothes becoming so heavy and freezing, your boyfriend arms never leaving your shoulders and your back, the feeling of his fingertips on your neck, something about being in a hurry spoken so softly the sound of the rain drowns it out.

Once you are both inside Han wastes no time and just throws himself at you, hugging you so tight you might just crumble into his embrace, wet hair and drenched clothes and all. Neither of you cares. He lets you cry into his neck and his shirt and his hair and doesn't complain once, he doesn't even flinch, he just quietly rubs soft circles on your back, "I know it's not okay right now, but I'm right here, I'm not leaving you, I'm never leaving you, it's going to be okay".

If the floodgates hadn't already opened hearing him talk like that makes you clutch onto him as a way to restrain yourself from crying even harder, if it was even possible, and there's a bit of relief in your cries but there's also still the bulk of unresolved panic pooling in your heaving chest.

Han knows what to do. He's done it a thousand times. Either while dealing with his own anxiety or yours, he just knows it a little too well. It's like second nature to him, he knows whether you need to be actively brought back out of the tunnel or if he just needs to stay by your side until the worst is over, it's like he can sense it before even you know what you even need him to do.

This time you did manage to survive the worst part on your own, you're not feeling completely helpless or like you're about to pass out like you did only a few moments earlier, getting out of the car and actively moving helped with that. But you are still stuck in the loophole, you are still feeling miserable and weak, with claws closing in at your throat. So he focuses on just calming you down.

He guides you on the couch, unzips his jacket and throws it over your shoulders and then he gently grabs one of your hands, rubbing each of your fingers until they stop shaking so much, "I like your hands...", he speaks softly, his eyes level with yours, "you always say how you like mine...", he sighs gently, lowering his voice jut above a whisper, "but yours are so pretty, your fingers are slender and your nails are always colorful and sparkly, I think rings look really nice on you",he continues, now holding your other hand, rubbing his fingertips around the two rings you keep on your pinky and your pointer, "I mostly like how you use your hands though. I like how gentle they are, like when you brush my hair or when you stroke my face and my shoulders".

His voice is hypnotic, his tender massage so soothing. Soon enough your breathing has gone fully back to normal, the aching in your chest is still there but it has subsided a little, your shaking has stopped, your heartbeat has slowed down. You are slowing down. You blink a few times and smile a weak, toothless smile smile at him, and he kisses your hand, from the palm to the tip of your longer middle finger, "you're feeling a little better?", he asks quietly, you nod and clear your throat, "y-yeah. Just a bit...hollow".

Han nods sympathetically for he knows exactly what you mean. Anxiety does that. It carves you out from the inside leaving you feeling so empty and exhausted, all of your senses rendered numb and cotton like after an intense, overwhelming trigger than rilled them all up.

"You should rest for a while. You must feel so tired", he offers, and you nod, already holding back a yawn, your energy does feel completely depleted now, like you could easily just sleep for 10 hours straight and still feel immensely exhausted. "How about you go and change into something warmer and then climb into bed mmh? I'll make you some sleepy time tea, that'll help".

Quietly, you drag yourself upstairs and wash up a little, making sure to really scrub your face, towel dry your rain soaked hair and spritz dry shampoo in your roots, feeling too tired to even get in the shower right now. Once you're cleaner and warmer in an oversize hoodie and pajama shorts, you climb into bed: you stretch out your arms and your legs, the tension finally leaving your limbs and as you close your eyes briefly, you feel like you can breathe again. Like you had been waiting to just lay down the whole day and now you're finally allowed to.

Except that your chest still hurts. There's a cramp there that just won't go away. A skip in your heartbeat that picks up pace a little too fast. The ominous seed of restlessness luring in the back of your head.

Han steps inside as if one cue, he's changed into comfier clothes as well and as he places a streaming mug of what looks like moon milk tea, he eyes you shifting on the mattress, spotting your hoodie as it pokes through the duvet, "that's not warm enough. It's so old and worn out it has holes in it", he whines, making you giggle. The first happy sound to come out of you in at least 12 hours.

He takes off his own cardigan, a cream colored woolen and extremely soft one, and basically forces you to put it on as you sit up in order to drink your tea: "thank you",you mumble, enjoying the sweetness of your drink and the comfort of his cardigan embracing your upper body, "of course, you already got soaked in rain I can't have you catching a cold like that", he pouts, and you shake your head softly, putting your mug on the nightstand for now.

Breathing deeply, a lot more regularly now, you speak softly, pouring out every bit if emotion into what you say, "no, I mean thank you. For everything. You really know how to take care of me. In every single way. I never felt as comforted and well looked after before I met you", you confess, your voice a little shaky for you never expressed this kind of gratitude to him, not this explicitly anyway.

Han smiles at you warmly and strokes your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly on your chin, "I wasn't just saying things earlier, I wasn't just trying to calm you down. I mean it. I will always be here for you", his eyes go shiny and full and he smiles so sweetly you start to think he might just get teary any second now, and you might too, "... I'll always care for you, not matter what... you are my heart, you know?".

You feel your insides melting away and in a second your lips are on his and the way you kiss oh the way you two kiss it's like you're both trying to convey just as much love and care as your own words do.

Something in your chest tugs at you as you pull him closer, the more his chest presses against yours the more it quiets down, the more he holds you to him the more that ache shrivels. You lay down on your back, pulling him on top of you, your reflexes instantly kicking in as your legs wrap up around him instinctively, by muscle memory.

And even though there's necessarily not that much urgency or lust in the way you two are still kissing and tangling your limbs together, you do find yourself panting a little when Han pulls away ever so slightly, "are you okay?", he asks quietly, his elbows resting on each side of your head, eyes travelling down to the hand pressing on your chest, directly on your heart that beats so fast and aches the minute he's not sticking to you, "please hold me, please just hold me", you plead softly, and he happily abides, his whole body settling nicely on top of yours like a warm, weighted blanket.

Comfort. You're engulfed in his arms and his scent and the familiar, pleasant weight of his warm body on top of yours. And the ache stops. It immediately stops. All your muscles go putty like, your senses alight in warmth and softness, your mind shuts down, your whole body finally fully relaxing into bliss.

[captaincapsicle83]

One Night Stand

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I don't know if anyone's noticed, but Clint Barton is my muse and he runs the cult...that I'm...in (I hope we get the reference or I sound insane). I just like writing silly Clint into my silly stories, I just noticed that theme.

TW: cursing, mentions of glass, mentions of injury,

Summary: You wake up the night after one of Tony Starks' biggest parties. And you're not in YOUR bedroom.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Tony Stark x reader (platonic), Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

You wake up, light streaming through the blinds onto your face. You groan. This is why you got rid of the blinds, light always came through them.

...wait a minute.

You already got rid of the blinds.

You shot up in your bed. The bed. It wasn't yours. This pillow wasn't yours, this black comforter wasn't yours, and these clothes...

Holy mother fucker of Odinson.

You weren't wearing any clothes.

"What the fuck?" You say, out loud and clear. Something stirs in the bed.

You look over in horror, and an unidentified lump is hidden beneath the covers.

Okay, you think. Nows your chance. Nows your chance to be a reasonable adult, and talk this out with this person.

(Within seconds you have gathered your lost articles of clothing and dashed out of the strangers room).

You were lucky in a sense, the sense being that this person lived in the tower that your best friend owned. Him and all his avenger friends lived here, and he gave you a room on his floor that you used sometimes.

Oh shit.

You slept with an avenger.

And it wasn't even Thor. He wasn't ok earth right now. That sucked. He was on your bucket list.

You sat on your bed, pouting mostly, wanting desperately to nurse your throbbing hangover.

You didn't quite have the guts to leave the room just yet. You remembered the in-building AI right at that moment.

"Friday," you croacked out. Your mouth was horribly dry, and you were also in desperate need of some chapstick. "Where's Tony?"

You weren't sure exactly the extent of what the AI could do, but she seemed happy to answer you.

"Mr. Stark is in his lab, accompanied by Dr. Banner. Would you like me to page him for you?"

"Can I just...go there?" You asked. Your room was much darker, having black out curtains instead of blinds.

Curse the blinds. And their creator. Edward Bevan. Curse him.

"Of course, Miss L/n."

Luckily for you, you knew where Tony's lab was, and what floor number to press in the elevator.

You kept your eyes closed on the blinding ride down, the bright fluorescent lights giving you an aneurysm.

The lights in the lab were even worse.

You walked into the room, eyes squinted and using your hands to shield yourself. Tony clearly found this hilarious, chuckling like an idiot.

Not even chuckling. The bastard was giggling.

"Lights not made for a hangover sweetheart," He shook his head, and you shit him a snarl and a death glare. Bruce gave you a sympathetic look and was holding out a bottle of water.

"You know any trusted detectives?" You asked, smiling at Bruce, and taking the drink from him gratefully.

"Ooh, for what?" Tony asked, looking intrigued. "Spill the tea sis."

You did, two mouths were agape when you finished.

After a minute of silence, Tony whips his head towards Bruce, "Was it-?"

"No!" Bruce scowls, then cringes and looks at you. "Not that-...I'm not saying...I wasn't even drinking last night, I would remember."

"Oh-kay," Tony says, exasperated. "We'll it wasn't me-"

"Thank god."

"It wasn't...Thor."

"Unfortunately."

"And it wasn't Peter...he doesn't have a room here."

"And he's a child!" You mention, giving Tony a disgusted look.

He waves you off, tapping a little metal tool to his forehead, presumably to help him think.

"Anything you remember? Did you get a look at them?"

You think about what you could possibly remember. Last thing last night was downing shots with Tony and a bunch of his friends, and getting told names you didn't commit to memory.

"They still have blinds in their room," you throw out there, shrugging. Nothing else came to mind.

"Friday," Tony calls out. "How many avengers on the 93rd floor have blinds in their room still?"

"About 7 sir," she answers. The only woman who would ever call Tony Stark, and the likes of him, sir.

"Which ones?"

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wilson, Vision, Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barton, Mr. Barnes, and Dr. Banner."

"Yay!" Tony says, and you can't pin if it was sarcastic. "That leaves six."

"Yay," you and Bruce both answer monotonously.

"Hmm," Tony taps his chin. "Do you think putting out a message, asking who got laid recently, would be too bold."

"A little," you responded, arms crossed.

Tony sat down at his table, you following, and poor Bruce too, who clearly was sucked into this against his better judgement.

"You don't happen to remember what room?"

You did not. You had dashed so quickly, and it all kinda looked the same.

"Who do you want it to be?" Tony whispered. "We can just...let you pick and say you did 'em."

"Bartons kinda hot," you shrugged.

"Bartons kinda married," Tony mimicked your expression.

"He was...big...er..."

"Are you fat shaming your fuck buddy y/n?"

"No! I'm just saying...They werent...I dont think it was Natasha."

"Yeah, neither do I. So, assuming Bartons faithful, that leaves three men and a robot."

"Does vision have a-..."

"No."

"So then, that's three men," you say.

○○○

Tony invited you to lunch with the team. Subtle.

You, him, and poor Bruce (still looped into the mess) stood at the back of the room.

"Okay, so...I was thinking," Bruce starts. Tony looks surprised at the input and begs him to go on. "Well, if everyone's here, you can go look at those threes rooms, and see if they look...familiar?"

Bruce's suggestion let's a hush fall over the three of you.

○○○

The first room you entered, Sam Wilson's. You knew immediately it wasn't the right one, it being surprisingly bright in nature.

But, you were a nosy little fucker, and therefore when you saw the pictures that, from afar, looked a lot like Captain America fanart, you had to take a gander.

A few cellphone photos later, and you stuffed the drawings back into the drawer they were sticking out of. You thought about the luxury snooping would be, but figured your luck was being pressed already.

The next room was right next to it, belonging to Bucky Barnes.

You turned the handle of the door, carefully making your way in while watching the hallway. You had to be sure no one saw you enter.

Your back still to the room, you carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door. You had your phone still out, in your right hand.

You turned around, and dropped the Stark branded cellphone to the ground. It was new, without a case, therefore you were probably shit out of luck.

You didn't have time to check on it though, because your bright ass didn't check the room for occupants.

Well, occupant. The occupant.

Bucky Barnes.

The blinds were open, shining midday light into the room. The dark bedding was in a disarray ok the mattress, a clear indicator of a rush out of it.

The man looked at you, mouth slightly agape. Your mind was racing, a thousand miles a minute, trying to find a good way to break the silence.

"Did I have have sex with you?" You wanted to slap yourself silly.

He seems to have to take the time to pick his jaw up off the floor. He clears his throat (ew, fuck, was that attractive? Were you attracted to that?), and says, "Well...maybe I need to explain a few things."

"Do you?" You question, your voice about ten octaves above where it normally sat. How many times could you ask yourself, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He seemed to swallow (and you only noticed because you were absolutely OGLING his features), and trys to talk, coming up with nothing.

He motions for you to sit down on the little couch he had, matching his dark aesthetic.

"Let me just tell you what happened last night."

○○○

"Do you still have a dartboard?!" You screamed into Tony's ear. No reason to. It was the after party of the real party, the only people left were the residents of the tower.

"Ooh! Yes! Darts!" Tony hopped up, like a joyful child.

"No!" Steve grabbed the back of Tony's shirt, pulling him back. Tony's dramatic ass flopped himself onto the floor, whining like a toddler.

"I never get to do anything fun!"

You had abandoned the idea of darts, and were now playing a game of dodgeball with Clint. Except that there were no balls, only drinking glasses.

It was around that time the sober members elected to take the drunkest of the drunk to bed.

Steve took Tony, Bucky chose you over Clint (leaving Nat stuck with him).

Clint collapsed himself to the floor, smashing his knee on a pile of drinking glass shards (you had missed).

"Point by omission!" You yelled like a battle cry.

Bucky touched your shoulder, "Cmon doll, let's head to bed."

"For you? Anything!" You threw the glass you were holding in Clints direction, and he screamed at you in Arabic (no one knew Clint spoke Arabic. Upon questioning, neither did he).

Bucky got you to the hallway, and that was about as much as he could do without picking you up and carrying you to bed, which he admitted he would have if you didn't scream in protest when he tried.

He led you to your room, and left.

He got in his bed, closed his eyes, and let out a breath. Before he could process the sound of his door open, you catapulted yourself onto the bed.

Apparently, he tried to send you back a couple times, but after that you would start removing articles of clothing everytime you came in.

Well, that explained that situation.

"So I eventually just let you stay," Bucky shrugged. "I was tired."

You couldn't decided whether to laugh or cry, finally saying, "Holy fuck, I'm so sorry."

Bucky let out a loud laugh, his smile cresting dimples under his eyes, "Trust me, don't worry about it. Steve is a much worse drunk."

"I'm gonna need that story."

"I could tell it to you over dinner," You almost don't take it in before saying yes. You only hesitate slightly, before smiling and agreeing.

That smooth fucker.

[flaming-iguana]

What if Ghidorah was still under the star control till their last fight in Boston?

Godzilla swoops for the final killing, foot crushing Ghdorah's abdomen, they lock eyes.

And Godzilla see; that ghidorah's gaze have turned back their normal, warm self. His voice gently croacks, he calls out his name. Neither of them knows what happened but in Godzilla's heart dawns the cold realization of the HUGE mistake he just made. He cups Ghidorah remaining head, assuring him that eveything'll be alright, they'll find a solution, nothing'll take him away again.

But it's too late, Ghidorah's heart took too hard a beating and without enough energy to heal himself he dies while Godzilla begs them to not leave him.

(I saw that you wanted to rewrite the au for more angst and had to share my two pennies, hope u don't mind\gen)

I like this idea I’m keeping this idea thanks I’m stealing it you’ll never see this idea again

[myloisarat]

'Ello Trevor (Blaise Zabini x Neville Longbottom)

Blaise Zabini swiftly manoeuvred around a worried Neville Longbottom, who was to no one's surprise, looking for his toad. Blaise had thought that by now it really wouldn't be a problem what with all the new-found sparks of confidence and all, though it seemed old habits died hard.

Blaise had no clue as to why he knew this about the boy, but he did; he had started to notice other things about Neville actually and though he may of thought to question his curiosity he put his thoughts to rest.

------

"Potter is absolutely insufferable, somehow he has managed to reach the likes of the Weasleys! The Weasleys, Blaise!" Blaise nodded as Draco continued to rant about God knows what.

"Mhmm yeah." Blaise mumbled as he slipped past the door of the bedroom leaving Draco to himself to complain as much as he please. Blaise stalked the halls unaccompanied except for the bottle of firewhisky which he grasped in his left hand. To be honest it was an awful habit firewhisky at the age of 15 to be frank it wasn't really his fault, he remembered nights at the age of ten sipping at it while one of his mother's husbands would flirt with him. Disgusting he thought as he shrivelled in distaste. Blaise remembered clear and well the stares, the mesmerised gasps all happening while he had yet to learn a simple charm. But while Blaise was slightly off-put he was also very much used to it, being admired for his looks and his infamous reputation, nothing more, nothing less. Or in Pansy's words 'he had not had time to explore having crushes or falling in love, not properly.' Blaise pondered before being shaken out of his thoughts by a bellowing croack. Blaise followed the noise toward a broom closet.

There was Neville Longbottom soaking wet with what smelled of the black lake meekly holding a toad. Neville squeaked at the intrudence, he was sure he had missed the whole day.

"Longbottom.", Blaise croaked not dissimilar to that of Trevor. Neville grinned sheepishly averting his eyes away and fiddling with the cuffs of his wet robes. "Uhm, Thanks." Neville muttered, clearly ashamed to be found like this.

"No Problem." Blaise replied cooly, rocking on his heels in the frame of the door. After a few moments had passed Blaise asked why Neville hadn't left before awkwardly exiting the doorway. Neville exited stroking Trevor before replying

"Thanks." and throwing Blaise a good-natured almost playful smile. As they walked Blaise tried to start a conversation to stop the awkward silence which they were in.

"There's  a change room nearby you could fix yourself up in there while I deal with the toa-frog and your robes." Blaise suggests hoping he didn't sound strange. Neville's eyes narrowed before he replied with a thank you before moving to a locker while Blaise watched Trevor  and then proceeding to charm Neville's robes as best as he could after them being thrown out of the stall. When he heard the pitter-patter of the shower die down he handed the robes to Neville while turned around.

"Okay. " Neville replied after adjusting his robes.

"So do you wanna talk about it?" Blaise asked. He was horrified by himself, in the span of just 40 minutes with Neville he was practically a Hufflepuff.

"Thanks but I have to go." Neville muttered before running towards the Gryffindor Common Rooms. Blaise was so disappointed, he knew Neville wouldn't be cool with someone like him, he had a certain reputation when it came to intimacy. So it made sense, cause Neville was sweeter than a bag of butter scotch sweets and Blaise was, well Blaise was just Blaise.

Blaise walked down the halls of Hogwarts scuffing his newly-shined shoes on the cold floors, contemplating his recent behaviour involving a certain Gryffindor. He's fully aware of what his actions and attitude means and so Blaise Zabini concludes that he, a Slytherin with an awful reputation, likes Neville Longbottom.

Neville is thoughtful, meek and extremely concious of his surroundings and despite being able to sus out the relationship between Dean and Seamus. Observing the relationship that was Ginny and Harry (and sometimes Luna) over the years in the serenity of lonesomeness, smiling dutifully at Hermione who offered compliments and giggling at Ron. Though he sometimes felt invisible, liked he blended in. Confidence was attractive and he had none, he didn't like his broad shoulders nor his chubby hips, not his blond-ish brown hair either.

He Neville Longbottom was unattractive, over-assuming and only managed to excel in Herbology just grazing by in his other subjects so when a popular relatively attractive person that wasn't one of the golden trio he was surprised and slightly uncomfortable.

He had declined Zabini's offer and urged his memory to forget the fluster of the tall boy, the Slytherin who quite honestly was becoming a disgrace to the gracious Slytherin reputation. Currently his feet were pushing him forward scattering toward the Gryffindor tower in an attempt to get away and over-analyse recent events he stroked Trevor softly as he ran up the stairs eager to forget recent events. That's when he bumped into a girl with short black hair and a smirk, dark grey sweater and skirt and dark tantalising nails and blood red lipstick, Pansy Parkison.

"What are you doing here?" Neville questioned barely keeping up with accusatory sound of his plea, Pansy scoffed smirking at the boy.

"What do you think?" she drawled, only then did Neville notice the smudged lipstick and the staining of her sweater. Now he just felt uncomfortable, he blushed profusely fiddled with his soaked sweater and walked to the sixth year dormitories.

"Hey where do ya' think your going!" Pansy said maliciously, she reached toward him clutching onto Neville's dripping robes, before immediately pulling a face and wiping her palm on her ebony coloured skirt. She gestured towards the hallway and Neville began to follow her, a small nook near the library was where they ended up, Neville no doubt would be caught because of how loud Pansy was being.

"So you saw Blaise, how was he?" Neville shrugged in response, he hadn't been paying all that much attention, Pansy stared expectantly.

"I mean he was kind of strange, awfully flustered, really nice but maybe that's just how he is, I don't know him." Neville didn't know him but he knew of him, cool, calm and collected so he assumed this was strange behaviour. Her smile grew to a smirk as she admired Neville,

"Well I'll be." she muttered quietly she then gave Neville a large toothy grin and took hold of his hand, guiding him towards the Slytherin dorms.

"W-What are you doing!?" Neville sputtered trying to loosen her iron grip, her fingers however stayed clad on his wrist. Whilst Pansy dragged him along Trevor leapt out of the crook of Neville's elbow, presumably leaving to sleep on his owner's bed.

"Sooo you wonder why I was presiding within the Gryffindor dormitories." Pansy drawls in weird voice that tells Neville she's referencing something. He nods.

"I had gone to have a little chat to your friend Granger." Neville furrowed his brows staring obviously at her smudged lippy,

"Oh yes the snogging we did do mighty amounts of snogging." She repeated again in that weird reference voice, Neville was starting to believe that those who accompanied Malfoy were odd, like a shared mentality or something. Pansy continued a string of unnecessary and strange questions before they were already up in front of the door belonging to the sixth year Slytherins.

'Honestly,' Neville thought 'how in Merlin's beard had they not been caught, what with Pansy basically screaming at the top of her lungs and his sighing. '. But a swift knock they saw Blaise at the door frowning at Pansy with distaste and a sense of alarm ringing throughout his eyes.

When he looked to Neville he started to act strange he was still as if he were a plank of wood and seemed to be sweating an abnormal amount. It was some sort of adorable watching a serene, handsome and cruel Slytherin get worked up around him just at the sight. Pansy was smirking smugly while glancing between the two,

"What's that Millie, sorry got to go!" she cried running to the girls dorms, leaving Neville and Blaise. Blaise and Neville. Blaise attempts a lean on the door frame to his success, it's hot Neville guesses but he feels as though he's just saying that because Blaise seems intent on impressing him.

"Hey Longbottom, again." Blaise says awkwardly as he fiddles with the expensive rings that adorn his slender fingers.

"Hi Zabini."

"Call me Blaise." Blaise winces at himself, frowning at his awkwardness.

"Hey again to you too then Blaise."

"So um how's Trevor doing?" Blaise asks

"Good." replies Neville, short and sweet in a way that makes Blaise feel as though this extremely reserved conversation is just as awkward for Neville as it is for him.

"You know I've always been fascinated by this plant, the Mimbulus Mimbletonia have you heard of it?" Blaise started, he wanted to ease Neville into a little conversation.

"Ah, yes it has a puffed appearance similar to that of the muggle plants that fall under the category of Cacti, well I happen to own one myself perhaps tomorrow afternoon you can have a look at it and I can further explain it's properties." Neville gushed excitedly.

"I would love that." replied Blaise smiling fondly, "See you then Longbottom."

"Call me Neville" .

Find me on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mylosamonster

[darth-bagel]

“i am so, so sorry.”, for Graz'zt and Sylvas? 👀👀👀

This was basically written on my knee in the last hour but! I do hope you like it 💕❤️✨

(Consider this an add-on to the meta pocket of existence with the Interview Series, I just went with it)

Sylvas was pacing, nervously, in the backstage, wringing their hands together and cracking their knuckles, but it didn't help them much.

They didn't think he would be here today, the first excited rush has already left them and all that remains is that nervous energy. Should they even wait? He seemed okay with them crushing him in a suprise hug earlier but.

But. But. But. There's always something.

They only paid minimum attention to the tail end of his interview, on the end of their toes to either meet him half way or run away. Again. Not that they had other choice at the moment.

"Sha'ael you're panicking, just breathe, you're gonna talk and both of you will be on your way" they whispered to themselves and with few deep inhales the mask started clicking back in.

Posture, casual-- just lean on the wall as if you're not affected.

Expression, smile-- relaxed and smug, the one he always liked the most.

They won't be more ready. The last few minutes of the interview, the hand shaking and smiles, he didn't age a damn day since last time. They allowed themselves a small smile and then they heard his steps-- breathe Sylvas, breathe.

But they didn't expect him to see them and smile, that soft thing, that made his eye's crinkle lightly and shine, and approach slowly with a soft "Walk with me".

Falling in step with him again was so natural, like if they just saw each other yesterday. Arm in arm, or uh, arm and shoulder. He was so damn tall.

"Tell me, Sylvas, yes?" they nodded "I know what happened. You even had me fooled, but I know that what you did after had to happen" he spoke, in soft voice but level.

"I'd vastly prefer if you contacted me somehow when everything quieted down but I understand, this is dangerous and I know it all happened because of our relation so, if you don't want to see me again just tell me" he continued and they were speechless, expecting everything but this.

"I thought that was my line" they croacked through their suddenly dry throat "This, whatever we had, I never thought..."

"That is your usual way of dealing with things. I remember" he couldn't stop the tease slipping through.

"Oho, now you're pulling this card, Z?" jokes, that was the familiar territory. They smiled but didn't turn.

"Revas" they could hear him smiling, felt the hand on their shoulder tracing the leather before catching under their jaw. Just staying there, waiting for them to either pull back or move with him.

"Yeah I know" they turned. They would probably always turn if he wanted them to. They didn't expect the soft kiss to be planted on their brow.

"Do you?" he questioned, wanting to linger, but moving away to stand up straight again. His golden eyes still following theirs, searching, trying to read them again.

They smiled, it felt watery "I do".

And suddenly he was everywhere, warm, steady, holding them close as if they were the only thing that counted in that moment. They broke, for the first time in nearly a year-- tears and sobs spilling over. "I miss them so damn much, I missed you but I didn't dare to come close again, I was scared and I did the only thing I know how to do well-- dissappear" they whispered when the tears stopped flowing, but he still held them close, rubbing their back with steady motions.

"It was a good decision, dropping from the grid. And I don't blame you, you saved yourself and I'm glad... I'm so, so sorry-- if anyone's to blame it's me. It happened because someone wanted to get to me and you took the brunt of it..." he whispered back, his face half-buried in their hair.

"We're so fucking stupid, I'm sorry as well" they wipe their eyes and untangle a bit to be able to look him in the eye again. Gold of his eyes is a bit more shiny then usual, but they don't mention it.

"So now that we 'talked', any important plans for rest of your day, my lord?" their smile takes on a teasing edge, even if the effect is a bit dulled with their slightly smeared eyeliner and still wet cheeks.

Graz'zt has to chuckle "Nothing that cannot be canceled in 15 seconds" he says and leans in catching them half way into a kiss. And another. And another. And one more. Leading them to lean against the wall in the corner, covering them entirely, hands roaming, looking for smooth skin, tangling in the clothes and hair-- until they both couldn't catch their breath and were distracted with each other enough to miss Mirage passing through, very brisk and with a huge smile on her face.

"Hah, and here I thought you were unable to say 'sorry', Sylvas"

"Don't expect that to become a habit, Z-- come back here"

[iwaasfairy]

Congrats on your follower count reaching 300!! Wahaha Yandere Shigaraki + I’ll wait for your feelings to match mine, bc he got to nab the reader that was kind enough to gift him a lip balm/hand lotion before

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐲 + "𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞"

It’s dark. Not the kind of dark that carries worries and thoughts into the void, never to be seen again. No. It’s a thick kind of void, one where each breath feels like the tightening of a noose and each sound feels like a feeble attempt to scream when no one can hear you. But you know someone can, you know it by the heavy breathing that seems to come from above you. Your arms and legs tied, knees tucked under your chin and the limited air in the small space is making your lungs burn. You’ve been screaming your throat raw into the fabric trapped between your lips for what must be hours.

And the person sitting atop the trunk has enjoyed every single breath you make, because the sounds you’ve been forced to hear have been unraveling your sanity. Little whimpers, confessions of love, deep, wet breathing up to the seam of the trunk like he’s trying to inhale you. Slick sounds of what you don’t want to imagine is this sick person jacking off to your fear. You’ve screamed yourself hoarse under his cooing, now forced to listen and as much as you wish you’d just pass out, your body is trembling with so much adrenaline that there’s no end in sight.

His raspy voice sounds again, echoing through your bones. “If you decide you’re finally ready to listen, we can play our game properly.” His lithe voice sounds so close, like it’s right in your ear. Disgusting. “The first gameplay is letting you out of this trunk, little one. Wouldn’t you like that? You must be getting pretty woozy with the lack of air.” It’s not just tempting anymore, it’s starting to feel like a life requirement. If you stay in this trunk for much longer you’ll choke on the heat, a shiver making it’s way down your spine as you consider his squeaky request. You mumble a soft agreement into the gag, swallowing around it as the trunk is clicked open.

Fresh air floods your system. You’re able to make out some light through your blindfold but definitely not enough to make anyone out, but you’re soon grateful for that fact because his hands are on your face, messing with your hair. At least when you can’t see him you can pretend it’s someone else. Someone kind, good, someone here to care for you instead of this monster that dragged you into a dark alley with two hands wrapped around your neck and a threat to your life. “Success. Now for the next part of this game, I will need you to be nice and cooperative, but don’t worry, pet. I’ll wait for your feelings to match mine, I am not unfair like that. But you should put in some effort too, don’t you think?”

You mumble against the thing in your mouth again, situating yourself on your back now you have a bit more space. Your spine hurts, your knees hurt, everything hurts. It makes you tear up and normally you’d be mildly embarrassed, but he can’t see your eyes anyway. So you whimper into the silence, just hoping someone comes to find you. You know they won’t. Cold fingers suddenly pry at your mouth, picking at the edges of it until the gag finally falls out of your mouth. You sniffle, stretching your jaw against the strain of having it jammed open for so long. The man above you trails a few fingers under your blindfold, before chuckling. “Not gonna scream anymore?”

“No one can hear me, can they?” you croack back.

Your captor doesn’t respond, he doesn’t need to anyway. If someone was going to hear you, it would’ve been hours ago. “Did you recognize me right away?” he asks, pulling back just a little it, only to start picking at the edge of your shirt instead. You wish you could shove his grimey touch away from you, but your arms are stuck behind your back still. Your heart drops though, a dark press seeming to come onto your chest. You start combing your brain for his voice, a voice like that doesn’t come often anyway. But you have never— No. “Or … just now?”

The guy who comes into the store minutes before closing time, without fail. “Why are you—” 

“I knew from the moment I saw you that you had to be mine. And then you kept flirting and flirting.” He seems to get more amused by the exasperation in your voice. Like this is all a game to him.

“It’s my job to help people navigate the store, that’s not flirting. I helped you find hand cream, that’s all.” You want to scream at him, want to claw his eyes out for even insinuating something so insane, but you can’t. You’re voice is on the brink of giving in.

“For now, maybe,” he sighs, starting to unbutton the top of your blouse. You start struggling at that, but there’s nowhere for you to go. “But you will feel the same after a while. I won’t give you a choice.” You buck your body against his hands until he gets frustrated, now just pressing his hand straight to it. Before you know what’s what the blouse is crumbling off you. “How about you give your master a show? Touch yourself for me. If you don’t listen to my satisfaction, I’ll just do the same thing with your limbs.” You shake your head, but quiet down when four of his fingers come back to your throat. “You live because I allow you to. Don’t forget it.”

[lucy-dont-give-a-fuck]

Monster Boyfriend

For context check this post and this post

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

When Waylon Jones, the infamous Killer Croc, the terror of gotham, the monster of the sewers, saw Mr. Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Enterprises, playbe and the richest guy in town, he tought the sewers’ water had finally affected him.

- Mr. Jones? I hope we are not importune you, we would like to talk to offer you a lucrative deal.

That’s it, he was gone.

- Are you ok? If you feel unwell we can come later

- No, I’m fine - he croacked nerveusly - What do you wanted? What are you doing down here?

The billonaire smiled at him, not an ounce of disgust in his face. He move aside to reveal a short woman, green from the smell of the sewers. She smiled shyly playing with a plastic wrapped envelope.

- Let me introduce you miss Mary Lezcowitz, screenwriter and author of the new project from Wayne Media Productions

- H-Hello...

- We are interested in you starring said project

He looked at them utterly shocked.

- Is this some fucked up joke? - he growled making the woman shake in fear.

Mr. Wayne frowned, looking at him in the eyes.

- Mr. Jones, Waylon, I assure you that we are not here to humilliate you - He said firmly - We want to work with you, for you to be part of this project, to star in it.

He wanted to not believe him, call him a liar, to beat the crap out of him, but he couldn’t, he sounded so honest, his gaze never wavering, standing his ground.

- And you two came to the sewers, where you could get lost and die, to see a criminal that could kidnap or kill you to ask this?

- Yes basically - Mr. Wayne said with a chuckled shared by the lady.

The Lady, miss Lezcowitz, advanced a bit extending him the package.

- I-It’s a lo-love story - she said nerveusly - It has...um...some action but it mostly centers on the couple

Waylon took the package in his hands not grasping what a love story have to do with him.

- Have you ever heard the term Monster Boyfriend, Mr.Jones? - asked Mr. Wayne.

Waylon could only laugh.

[3000isthenewinfinitynow]

Something soft is touching his face, gentle, a shape of a hand, shaking, ... Scared. Blood, salt and Tears.

His body shudders from the touch, the hand moves away from his body, a gasp, "You... Alive?"

His tongue is plastered with blood. All he manages is, " Hnng "

"Oh. My God. Oh my God. I thought, I thought, hey, hey, you saved me, you... "

Matt mutters under his breath, "Nice observation" but even to his own ears, it comes out as gurgling noises at best.

But the kid somehow picks it up, and a hint of a smile crosses his face, and he says, "Hey, you aren't dying if you still can joke like that,"

The kid sounds... Hopeful, almost. Like he just found a ray of sunshine in the dark, or a blanket in a freezing winter. Huh, Matt thinks to himself, only if he knew he's a talking with the devil, he probably would want to run away as far away from him as soon as he's out of here.

Matt must have said it out loud, cause the kid says, "Hey, do l look that selfish to you? I won't just leave you like that, even if you didn't save me l would still..."

Matt must have passed out cause he's once again met with a fumbling hand all over his body, and he can feel little drops of salt water on his face.

"Hey, hey, please don't die, I'm... I'm scared, l... I... "

And the kid wasn't lying. He really was scared. Matt had to do something about it. He couldn't just die in front of the kid and traumatize him for his whole life. He had a degree on self guilt & and his dying act absolutely wasn't going to be passing along the trauma.

Matt hastily moved his hand, every neuron protested against it.

Gritting his teeth he fumbled on his lower back, surprised to see his lower half is still attached.

He grasped on his pant's pocket, because he couldn't feel his legs for the life of him. One more surprise was waiting for him.

The burner phone was still intact, thanks God for small mercies. He puts the phone on the boy's hand, the boy in return looks at him dumbfounded.

Biting down a sigh he croacks, "9...11. Call, Get t' h'll ...outta 'ere"

Realization sinks in.

But the boy just says more strongly, "Not. Without. You"

Stupid kids.

Gathering every last bit of strength, he says, "I... am a dead man, kid, just ... GO"

"No, I'm not. Not alone. We are going to get out of here, and we'll get you to a hospital, and everything... Well, may be not everything, because everything will never be fine, but you are going to be, and... I won't leave your side until I properly thank you, and... And. . . "

The kid was practically rambling now, just goes to show how nervous and scared he was, but Matt had no choice.

He turned around and showed his side to the kid, trying to make a point.

"Does... This? Do...l? Look... Fix' ...able to...you?"

His voice sounded so weak even to his own enhanced ears. When the kid didn't respond for a while, he feared the kid might have not even heard him.

He was going to try to open his mouth once again, when the kid said, more strongly this time, " Like I said, we are going to the hospital, and yes, you are going to be 'fine' and... I ain't leaving until you are 'fixed', so you better be."

Wow, Great! One thing worse than stupid-kids are stupid-selfless-stubborn-kids.

The kid reminded him so much of the younger version of himself that it scared him. The kid said every word with such precision and stubbornness, he knew he couldn't convince him like that, there was something about the kid that told him this

[malecftw]

You get hurt trying to protect the kids

A/N: I’ve been in love w Steve from the second I saw him, even if he was an asshole in the beginning, so this is long overdue. Please let me know what you think :) This took me so freaking long because I literally had such a writers' block so please, any feedback you have is appreciated <3

Warnings: mentions of blood, injury, unconfirmed death, basically a cliffhanger, cursing

Masterlist.

“Why couldn’t we have just gone bowling? Or at least have done an activity in a heated space?” You sigh as you hold up a piece of metal that allows the kids to crawl into the old abandoned bus. “Oh come on y/n it’ll be fun,” Dustin says as he enters the bus. You lower the metal back down, allowing it to shield you from anything that might be roaming the streets outside. You clap your hands in an attempt to get some dust off of them and cough when a huge cloud of it enters your airway. “I’ll just be glad if no one’s asthma gets triggered by this piece of shit, your parents would kill me” The whole group just looks at you unimpressed. “Stop being such a Debbie Downer y/n,” Mike says and everyone laughs. 

At this, you cross your arms over your chest and scoff. “I’m not a Debbie Downer. I’m responsible for you shitheads.” Eleven looks at you and smiles softly, understanding your point of view. “Let’s just play guys.” She says and they all return their attention to the board game.

You sit at the front of the bus, trying to keep an eye on the surroundings. You didn’t trust the weird mist crawling over the damp ground and boy would you turn out to be right later that evening.  Your watch beeped as the clock struck 8 pm. Normally it was time for your allergy meds but of course, you had nothing to wash them down with since Steve still hadn’t returned from a quick grocery run. He was honestly such a pushover it made you smile. He tried to be a decent role model and somewhat big brother for them but he didn’t stand a chance. Dustin had this incredible way of making Steve oblige to 90% of the things he asked him.

You get out your little pill box, twirling it in your hand as you contemplate trying to take them dry. The cold metal triggers a shiver running down your already cold body and you take that as a sign to put it back into the pocket of your jean jacket.

An odd scratching sound draws your attention and you look up, the window of the bus being the dirtiest you’ve ever seen it, but still clear enough to make out shapes and shadows. You don’t see anything so you slowly get up, muscles stiff from the cold.

Again, you don’t see anything as you squint to try and get a better view. A terrifying feeling crawls up your spine, your mouth getting dry and your brain going in overdrive. Something was very very wrong.

“Guys, I think we should go.” You say to the kids behind you in the back of the bus, not taking your eyes off of the window. “Are you kidding me y/n. We literally just got here. Chill out.” Lucas whines but he quickly gets interrupted when a huge object flies into the side of the bus, making it shake profusely.

You now have the kids’ attention. The horrified faces mirroring your thoughts as you’re trying to keep up a calm front. You run towards them and slide down on your knees, they all get together closely to hear what you have to say.

“Stay quiet, and don’t move okay.” You whisper and everyone nods, realizing now is not the time for jokes. You look up, your eyeline going just above the windows of the bus. It’s eerily quiet and you know it’s just the calm before the storm. You lay low on your tummy and slowly crawl back to the front of the bus where Steve left his bat, typical you for forgetting to grab it. The bus shakes again and you speed up your pace, determined to get to the weapon as soon as you can.

Eventually, you arrive at the front and swiftly grab the bat, holding it carefully to your chest. You don’t bother being quiet anymore considering the bus is being rocked by both sides now, meaning any hope of the monsters disappearing into the night without knowing you and the kids were there is long gone. You get up and make a beeline for the kids, who are all huddled close together in fear. “Don’t worry guys I got you. Just stay calm.” You shout as you stand before them. You look at both sides, debating which side to go for first. You decide on left. The soft fabric of the chair comes in handy as the grip of the fabric gives you a certain stability on which you plant your feet.

You open the upper window and start smacking the monster with the bat. It lets out an ear piercing scream but you feel nothing but hate for the thing. The more it cries the more it gives away that you’re really doing a number on it before its cries soften and eventually die out, signaling its defeat. The group cheers for you but you’re not in the clear yet. You hop from one bus seat to the other which is on the right side now.

Again, you try the same technique however this time it’s less effective. You can’t tell if it’s simply just stronger or if you’re getting worn out. Somehow all of a sudden the bat got stuck, or the monster grabbed it, you had no idea. Everything went so fast you didn’t have time to register what happened until you felt the sharp claw of the monster piercing your stomach. Glass traveling through the air caused by the broken window, scratching your face and arms. The kids all yelled out, obviously traumatized by what they just witnessed. Instead of finishing you off, the monster retracted and disappeared into the night before you could even fall to your knees.

You cupped your wound as you looked down at it, blood seeping out and covering your hands. You looked up again as you saw the headlights of a car shining straight at you. The kids all surrounded you as you lowered yourself down onto the filthy floor of the bus, trying hard not to squish any of them. 

“Steve, get Steve.” You managed to squeeze out, the energy you had used to speak already starting to fade. Dustin nodded and as he turned around, Steve walked up the stairs of the bus looking alarmed at the state of it. It took him a couple of seconds to notice you on the ground since the sight of you was mostly covered by the kids. “Guys what the hell happened he-” He stopped talking as he saw a pool of blood starting to form on the ground. “No...” He said in disbelief as he jogged up to you. “No no no no, what happened?” He said panicking as his hands hovered over your stomach before aiming his terrified eyes at your pale face.

“One of the demodogs got her while she was trying to protect us.” Eleven managed to say between the hiccups and tears. “Shhh okay, you’re gonna be okay. Can you move?” Steve asked, trying to keep calm for everyone involved. You could vaguely make out his face, your sight blurred by the loss of blood. You didn’t really know what you were saying, not really completely there. “Mhm,” you said while lightly nodding your head. Obviously, you just tried to ease his worried mind. There’s no way you’d be able to move without being in agony. Well, even more agony than you were in now.

Steve let out a strangled noise, the hopelessness being apparent in his voice and on his face. He carefully lifted you up in a single moment that you looked more out of it, trying to cause you as little pain as he could. He quickly placed himself behind you, using the bus seat to lean against as he held you in his arms. “Shhh, you’re going to be okay alright? Everything’s going to be fine.” He whispered kissing your head affectionately.

Your breathing started to get heavier, your responses to your surroundings becoming less and less. The hand clamping Steve’s losing its strength until he was holding onto your hand more than you were holding onto his. Steve noticed this and panicked. “Shh, don't worry, keep your eyes open. I asked Dustin to get help. Don’t you dare give up on me y/n.” You’d never even heard him shouting at Dustin to get help. Must’ve been too occupied with your impending death. You tried lifting your head but simply didn’t have the energy so you just turned it to the side, trying to ease your breathing.

“Steve, I’m sorry.” You croacked out, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not sorry because you’re not leaving me. You hear that. You are not sorry. Don’t you fucking dare leave me y/n.” He sounded angry, defeated, hurt and completely heartbroken.

His grip on you tightened but you didn’t respond. In fact, you didn’t even flinch at the pain and your breathing had been so quiet for the last seconds that everyone held their breath. When no one heard your struggled breathing, they looked towards your chest.

Everyone held their breath again.

[viking-hel]

prompt: 'before the transformation takes and the bloodlust takes and the crave gets slaked' - any ship you like :D

Well, here I shall dabble for Jonsa for the first time! - Written listening to Moonlit Melody and Hunter’s Dream from Bloodborne.

She was a tall woman. A fire-bright spectral lady as she swept across the snow-blanket, her scaled dress flickering black and inky blue in the dying sunlight. He’d always watched her. Saw her grow on the dais from his place by the door, like the runt of the pack, a dog being fed scraps; his silver lupine eyes had never missed that kissed-by-fire hair as she darted between cold statues for the dead, laughing with her brothers and sister.

Now…now is so far removed from those days. He was no longer by the door. She’d reached her hand down to him and brought him up to the dais with her, called him Stark for all the North to see, whether they agreed or not. 

She was a beacon in the darkening day. And a beacon to him. Since Bran took the throne and the North became it’s own kingdom, she’d kept him there. “Her commander had no authority over you. You shan’t be going north of the wall.”

Arya had agreed, and before she ventured off to the Riverlands in search of her wolf, she’d given Sansa a knowing glance which was not returned except with a brief nod. Jon wondered about that as Sansa stalked across the grounds and into the Godswood. ‘Why is she going there?’

He prowled behind her silently, each footstep quiet. The sky darkened; the inky black seeped into the pinks and purples of the dying sun, casting long shadows like unfurling claws, eager to snatch up some unwitting prey as it passed. 

He was not prey. And neither was she, not any more. 

The silvery moon became clear in the black and his blood sung; it sung for someone, for her, his heart and mind knew this. His blood had always sung for her in the silence of every winter-bright moon, in the dark of every room.

…before the transformation takes and the bloodlust takes and the crave gets slaked…

In the depths of the blood-capped leaves he found her. Kissed-by-fire and gleaming in the moonlight; she was beautiful. He felt his skin tingle and a growl form deep in his chest. Tonight, there was something in the air, a magic he could almost taste. His skin tingled again. This time he did growl. He felt his heart beat faster and faster…he groaned as he fell to his knees, mirroring her position.  

“Jon?”

Her voice was quiet and caring; it was a balm on the fire in this blood. Through his tussled hair he saw she was peering at him over her shoulder. He calmed, and a soft whine escaped his lips as his lupine eyes glided over her pinked cheeks and nose.

By the Gods, what is she doing to me?

“Jon? Jon, are you alright?” Her voice was thick with tension as she climbed to her feet. He remained on his knees, staring pleadingly up at her as she approached. “Jon?”

He sighed roughly, gazing up at her bathed in moonlight. “San…Sansa,” he croacked; the moonlight made her eyes shine and her hair became a torch. “Sansa.”

Sansa reached for him but he could not lift his hand to hers, worried that even the slightest movement would awaken the heat, the lust, the craving-’No! No, I cannot! Not her!’

‘Why not?’

“Jon…” Her gentle, soft hand rested against his curls and he could not keep from pressing into it. It trailed down to his face and the moment her skin touched his it made everything jump alive again. His blood began to sing again, loudly, unrelentingly. 

Now-now-now. Craving. Take it!

A deep growl burbled up from his chest and he heard her take in a shuddering breath. His breathing was rough and raspy as he let her see his eyes. She did not step back upon seeing them. “Do…do you see it?”

Sansa nodded slowly. “I think so,” she said softly, “but…how?”

Jon shook his head. What words could describe this feeling? This craving? He didn’t expect her to drop to her knees before him; weakly he tried to pry her from the ground but she would not move. She pulled his hands away from her cloak and smoothed back his hair from his face and oh-so carefully pressed her lips to his forehead, just like he had once on hers.

Sansa snaked her arms about his neck and pulled him tight into her body; her cheek rested on his head as she shielded him from everything. Jon sagged into her warmth. 

He would do nothing else in the Godswood. ‘No craving will drive me to do it. Not here.’ So there he stayed, with the one who made his blood sing with fire. A girl with the same fire in her hair.

–

Well….I don’t know what this became but hope you like it? *runs off”

[storytimefromthecreed]

Failing Vane

Edward lead her through the dark halls of the prison until she heard the familiar sound. A rough tenor speaking to himself, muttering like he would when he was aboard or when they’d have their long talks. A voice that made her freeze. Noticing her pause, Edward doubled back and took hold of her shoulder. Partially to bring her back to her senses and partially because he was weak, so very weak. “What is it, lass? Trouble?” He held her close as his eyes scanned. When Ah Tabai asked her for help in this mission, she thought, what could possibly go wrong? She’d save Edward, Mary, and Anne; all her friends would be safe, and they could put this behind them.

But she hadn’t counted on hearing that voice. Not after all this time. As if reading her thoughts, Edward grew very serious. “(Y/N). No. He’s too far gone.”

“Edward, I-”

“What of Mary? Anne? Your real friends?” Edward’s eyes were pleading, but that voice overtook her. 

“All our friends are dead, Edward.” Pulling out of his grip was easy, that made her guilty, and she backed away. “I’m getting Vane, Edward. I’ll meet you with Mary and Anne outside.”

“(Y/N)-!” Edward hissed, but she was backing away.

“I’m sorry!” She hissed back. “I don’t give up on people that I love.” Unlike you. She hadn’t said it, but they both heard it.

Running missions for Mary, and sometimes Edward, was the reason she crossed paths with Vane in the first place, she remembered as she ran towards the voice. Falling in love with Vane was the farthest thing from her mind, Edward teased that he didn’t know anyone capable of the feat, but she had. A determined man, strong, witty, courageous, troublesome, her and Vane really hit it off and while she worked for the Assassins, she sailed with him. And it was magical. 

“You could leave them.” Vane told her one night as they lay in bed. The soft sound of waves lapping against the ship’s hull lulled her into sleep. Fingers rough from work but delicate with her traced her cheek and jawline, and Vane chuckled his gruff chuckle. “Boring you, am I?”

(Y/N) groaned, “I don’t want to talk about work. I don’t want to talk about the Assassins or the King or having the grow up.” She opened her eyes and found him staring so longingly back. 

“We all have to grown up sometime, Princess.” That’s what he called her. A remark of her nature when she arrived to Nassau. Too well dressed, too clean, her hands too soft. Vane said she hadn’t the mettle to last with the rest of them, and she’d proved him wrong. They’d proven everyone wrong.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” Her fingers tugged playfully at his beard and he bit at them before she redirected and cupped his face. Growing very serious, she brought her lips to his, speaking so that they weren’t kissing but they were touching. They were something else. “Because you know I would.” Eyes flickered up to his, her fingers trembled and his placed his hands over hers to stready them. “I would leave them, if you asked. Guess I always knew I would, but I’d hoped you would never ask.”

“Think I’d be running around with you this whole time if I didn’t intend to keep running around with you?” Vane asked, and she found herself looking away. “Was it me you didn’t trust? Or pirates in general?” He spat the word like a curse, and she looked at him defiantly. 

“You know it’s not that, Vane. I have enemies, the Templars could hurt me through you, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you.”

“As have I, and the thought of leaving you behind for the sake of protection never crossed my mind. Maybe I’m just weaker than you.”

“Or stronger.” They rested their heads together, one wishing for a world where they’d be together and the other wishing she had to strength to reach for the shared dream. An idea came together. “I’ve some missions that I need to finish, but let’s meet in Nassau! After that, no more Assassins, no more pirates.”

“Just us.” Vane concluded, and she nodded. 

“Just us.”

But she had returned to Nassau and found it to be a changed place. Edward couldn’t meet her eyes. Mary, as James, told her what had happened. She couldn’t look at Edward for a long time.

Maybe that was why she left him to hobble around in the prison in the dark, alone and weak. Maybe a part of her resented him for what he did to Vane. Either way, she’d help him later. Vane needed her now.

The cell was dirty and the bars gave way easily. Laying in grime and things she didn’t want to give much attention to, was Vane. Head lolled to the wall, he sat with his eyes closed, lips moving. “Charles?” She breathed, sinking to her knees, her fingers outstretched but refraining from touching. Tears sprang in her eyes. “What happened to you?”

“Hey!” His eyes opened, finally noticing her presense. “The hell are you doing ‘ere? Whatya want?” Wildly searching the room, his eyes landed on hers, and now she knew what Edward meant by Charles being too far gone. The look in his eyes was that of seeing a stranger. Charles didn’t recognize her, and she wasn’t sure she recognized him. 

Tossing that thought aside, she extended her hand. “Come on, Charles. Let’s get out of here.” Slapping her hand away, she recoiled emotionally. “Charles?”

“Who the hell are you? How’d you get here?”

“Charles! It’s me!” 

“I’ve never seen you on Nassau!”

(Y/N) blinked, then shook her head and glared. “Charlie, you’re not on Nassau, you’re in prison.”

Charles looked around, as if suddenly realizing that he was. “How the hell-? Did you put me here?” Deceptively fast, he clawed at her throat and squeezed. Dropping his voice to a dangerous whisper, he growled, “Don’t know who you are or why you did this, but tell ya one thing, girlie, I’m not dying here.”

“Charlie.” She gasped, prying at his hands and struggling underneath him. The thought of causing him harm was so repulsive it stayed her blade. “It’s me, it’s- it’s...” Blackness popped in her vision. “Princess.” She croacked.

Charles laughed, a deep, ugly, angry sound. “Princesses ain’t real, girlie.” (Y/N) closed her eyes, lungs burning. Then there was a grunt, a groan, and the relief of air. Someone was pulling her by her arms out of the cell, and she was choking and coughing the entire while. When she was finally able to open her eyes, Ah Tabai was staring disappointingly. She’d rather he look angry. “Mentor.” She croaked, her voice gone. 

“Get up.” Command in his voice, he lowered a gentle hand. “We did not come here for him, and we can not help him now.”

“But, he’s-”

“Emotion and logic are the basic needs as humans, but as Assassins we revolve around one and control the other. (Y/N), you know this, it is in your training. My heart goes out to you, but we are here to save Mary and Anne, not him.” In a kinder tone, if he had one this was it, he continued, “The man you knew was lost on that island, (Y/N). This, this is hardly a man at all. Leave him.” Charles stared between them as her Mentor’s words sunk in. He wouldn’t catch her eye, not like he did when he was bashful or angry, but because there was nothing in her eyes he wanted to see. She was a stranger. He was more interested in Ah Tabai, muttering incoherently about cabbages and kings the whole time.

It was with a heavy heart, she took Ah Tabai’s hand and allowed him to help her up. “We get Mary and Anne out first,” He whispered, “And then we will come back for him.” Once she nodded, he pushed her towards the cells and they got out. Well, not all of them.

Running up to Edward, she panted. “Is she-?” Edward cut her off with fire in his azule eyes. Accusatory. Again, neither spoke the words but they were there. Had she stuck to the plan, Mary would be alive. If she hadn’t gone off on a wild goose chase after Vane, the night would’ve ended differently. 

Gruffing, Edward nodded towards the door. “Come on, lass. Let’s get her out of here.” Straining to carry her, (Y/N) providing cover and fought whoever stood between them and it. They crossed the door and out into the night. When they reached the boat, Ah Tabai gave her leave to return to Charles. Edward wouldn’t look at her.

“We’re getting Anne out of here. Will you be ok?” Ah Tabai asked, and she nodded. 

“Don’t wait for me.” 

“Be safe.” Edward’s voice rose barely above a whisper, his eyes on Mary’s body the entire time. “Between him and you...” Giving her a knowing look, she didn’t respond, just ran into the prison and back to that cell.

“Oi, you!” Charles yelled, and she placed a finger at her mouth. Snickering, he hung his head at the bars. “Come to rescue me?”

Reworking the lock was easier the second time around. “Do you really have no idea who I am?” She asked as she broke in again and threw his arm over her shoulders. Charles shrugged, more concerned with escape. “Charlie, seriously?”

“Why the hell do you keep calling me that?” Annoyance plain in his growl. “Only-”

“Your mother called you that.” He gave her a queer look. 

“How did you-?” They were staggering towards the exit. If any guards were to show up, she’d have to drop him and fight, but she didn’t know how many she could take before then. 

“You told me.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“What do you rememeber then?” Frustation in her tone. “Nassau, of course. Your ship? James Kidd was our friend. Edward Kenway-”

“Kenway!” The strange look returned to his eyes and with strength he didn’t possess, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her to the ground. The wind knocked out of her and he pinned her wrists above her head. Grabbing a dagger from her belt, he placed one at her neck.

“Charl-” The movement of talking scratched her skin against the blade, and she could feel the blood begin to run warm down her neck and into her hair. 

“Kenway put you up to this, didn’t he?” The mania in his eyes matched his tone, and her heart broke. Winding back, he stabbed down. Catching her thigh and ripping the muscle upon exit, she screamed then muffled her noise by biting her lips. They couldn’t get caught. “He put me in here. You and he are working together.”

“Charles, we were just talking-”

“Enough talking. Walking. Stalking.” He couldn’t focus, keep blinking rapidly and shaking his head. “He’d had you hunting me. But not anymore. I’m going to get you off Nassau, and you’ll never return. Burn. Learn.”

Tears in her eyes again, she pleaded. “We’re not on Nassau. Does this look like Nassau to you?” Charles looked around. “See?”

Turning back to her, he pressed the blade harder. He was going to kill her. She was going to die. “Kenway did this. You’re going to undo it.”

Crying openly now, she wimpered. “I’m helping you, Charles! Promise! Edward didn’t tell me to do anything. Swear!”

“Why should I believe you?” Eyeing her, a slow smile spread across his face. “Don’t need to believe you when your weapons will do.” Pinning her down so her arms were stuck under his knees, Charles sat on her chest and pulled the blade up. If he didn’t stab her, his weight would suffocate her. (Y/N) flinched, tears rolling down her face, and sobs muffled by his weight.

But nothing happened. 

Timidly, she sniffled and opened an eye.

Charles was staring down at her. 

“Princess? The hell are you,” he looked around, “we doing here?” Lowering the blade, he took her in. “What happened to you? Your neck? Who hurt you?” The blade clattered out of his hand, and he stared from it to her before his face contorted with fear and crawled off her. “God no. Tell me I didn’t...” Charles scoot back from her. “No, no, no, no.” Shaking his head in disbelief, tears streamed down his face and he looked back at her.

Crying, she rolled over and just lay there. Hearting pounding, but her body unable to move. This was the second time she’d almost died tonight, and it was beginning to take it’s toll. As was the blood leaking from her leg. It burned when she flexed her hamstring, but still wasn’t why she was crying.

Charle’s quiet crying could be heard from the other side. “God, I hurt you. I am so sorry, Princess. I just.... I don’t know what’s going with me. I can’t remeber things. I’m waking up in strange places. I’m... I’m not myself.” 

The weight of the night was heavy on her chest and she couldn’t breathe from how hard she was crying. There was a sound and suddenly he was close. “(Y/N)?” Gently, he helped her sit up and collect herself. “I’m so-” She fell against his dirty chest and cried and cried. 

“Let’s figure it out later. We have to get out of here now.” She said when she composed herself, and he helped her up. Taking her hand, she guided him out.

“Never seen you like that before.” His voice was small and she tightened her hold on his hand. 

“I was...scared.”

Silence. 

“Let’s get out of here.” She took his hand, and lead him towards the door. The blood continued from her leg, but she ignored it. They were so close. 

The alarm sounded and guards could be heard running. They had to hurry. “We’re almost there.” She said, more to herself than him, the blackness creeping along her vision. Making it to the door, she leaned against the prison wall and breathed in the night air. Focusing on the sound of lapping waves, she kept her eyes open for more guards, and kept her ears alert.

There was a clicking, then a thud. 

The gate was closed.

Exhaustion forgotten, she pulled on the gates. Standing just on the other side, Charles held the bars and stared at her with such love in his. “Charles?”

“Run.” He breathed, his hand gently tucking her hair behind her ear. “We can’t take them all, Princess. I’m- I’m damaged goods.”

“No,” She pulled on the gates. “No, open the gate. We can get out of here! We can-”

“Then what?” Charles stared, memorizing her face. “I can’t be what I dreamed of being for you. What you need me to be.”

How she had any tears left, she’d no idea. Her head pounded and her face was hot. “All I need is you!”

Charles wiped the tears from her eyes, already shaking his head. “Not even that most days.” There was a clattering of guards, and Charle’s eyes never left hers. “Had a good run, didn’t we? Wouldn’t have traded that for the world.” Leaning in with a parting kiss, he said, “The greatest love mankind never got to see.” They’d only a moment to stare at one another through the iron gates before a guard hit him on the back of his head and his eyes rolled back.

The Spanish sun shone too brightly for a day such a today. Sneaking into the hanging was easy, and she remained in the seat at the sidelines as they brought everyone out. The crowds were roaring. Charles was the second one, and she clenched her fist so hard her palms bleed. Screaming at the crowds words that didn’t make sense and then laughing, the crowds errupted in cheers. 

The Charles she knew no longer exsisted, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. And she definately didn’t want this for him. It was a difficult choice, or maybe it wasn’t. Clutching her pistol in one hand and waiting for the next roar of the crowd, the shot went unnoticed. Charles hung his head in a position of penance which only made the crowd roar more, what they didn’t see was the hole in his chest. Charles was dead long before the board was removed from his feet.

A shuffling beside her, and a man leaned in. “That was impressive.” By the roll of his tongue, she knew this was Torres. “Brave for an Assassin to show here.” He continued, “Or stupid.”

“The only stupid thing is you speaking to me right now.” She kept her eyes trained on Charles body, making a mental note to take it and bury it elsewhere. “I’m coming for you next, Torres.”

He laughed, “What? Here? In front of all these people?”

Just because she could, she flicked her hidden blade and sliced his palm. Blood streamed out and he held his hand against his chest. Too late. It was already pouring down his forearm and stainging his shirt. “In the darkness. Where you will wonder when I will strike.” Torres looked up, but she was gone.

[butindeed]

Bloody fair (Sensible content. Riley x Drake)

Hi guys! Just in case you didn’t know, this is part of a nameless Riley x Drake series. You can read the previous parts HERE.

Tags: @decisso @lazychic28 @drakelover78 @captainkingliam @boneandfur  @chantelle-x0x

Summary: SENSITIVE CONTENT, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.

It’s a bit long, I’m sorry, but anxiety won me over and I just couldn’t write it in several parts as I intended! Hope you enjoy it anyways!

Well, for those who don’t know it, this part is directly related to these previous ones:

Guitar strings

Paper Kites

Bruises fade

_______________________________________________________________

Riley was taking a well deserved shower after a not too healing sleep. She had had nightmares about  the atrocious engagement party all night long.

She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Justin had failed her so bad. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thought clouding the hapiness of having cleared her name. The shadow had been lurking around, both at the embassy party when she was talking to Maxwell at the rooftop and when they exited the engagement party that night, she was almost certain she had seen him staring among the journalists. She was being pushed forwards by Drake and Maxwell. She could still see his face among them, standing out among the bright blinding flashes.

She washed those thoughts while rinsing her soapy hair and stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping herself in a fluffy white hotel towel.

Riley dressed up quickly and combed her hair. She was just finishing when she heard a knock on her door.

-Who is it? - She asked, her heart paralized in fear.

-It’s us! - Hana’s voice answered - We wanted to invite you to a fair nearby!

Riley let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, grabbed her hotel room key, mobilephone and opened the door.

-Let’s go!

______________________________________________________________

Once at the Coney Island amusement park, the gang gathered ready to relax, eventhough Liam hadn’t arrived yet. Riley was ready for some good old fun, but felt unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following her, ready to jump out of the shadows.

The fair was full of tourists strolling and queueing to get on the rides, laughter  and fast food smell filled the air, and although Hana seemed a bit like a fish out of the water, Drake was definitely on his element. 

It was good to see all of her friends wearing casual clothes, enjoying the rides and unwinding.

She missed Kai, and returning to NYC without seeing her felt like a knife in her chest. But business was business and she had had to travel to Chicago for that week.

Maxwell suggested to get their hands read by a fortune teller and though Drake complaint a bit, they headed that way. Upon arriving to the booth, Riley caught a glimpse of a person staring at her.

It couldn’t be the same person... He was so different now! He flashed a yellowed-teeth terrifying smile and Riley shuddered. She scanned the place quickly for Drake’s face, and when she looked back, the person wasn’t there anymore.

She quickened her pace, but decided not to tell her friends about what she saw, what she thought she had seen.

After some not very promising readings, they left the booth, ready to grab something to eat.

-Riley, could you come with me to the loo? - Hana asked - I’m not sure I should go alone.

-Sure Hana!

Once in the restroom, Hana entered into one of the toilet booths, leaving Riley alone in the waiting section. She was washing her hands absentmindedly when she looked up. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Her throat dried instantly and a scream died as a gasp.

There he was, standing in front of her, a dirty finger pressed over her lips, silencing her like so many times when they were together. 

How could it had been him? There were no traces of his curly light brown hair, or his bright silver eyes. He resembled more a monster than a person. 

He smiled again, flashing his rotten yellowish teeth, wrinkling his sallow skin, his eyes blood injected eyes brighted with a madness hallow.

Just then Hana flushed the toilet, and Riley turned that way.

When Hana opened the door, she found a very shaken Riley staring at a blank spot.

-Are you ok?

-Yes, just thinking about what the fortune teller said - she lied, flashing a shaky smile.

Riley felt she had to tell at least Drake about what had just happened, but when she was about to, Mawell dragged her to the side.

-We have to try this game! - He chirped - pointing at a high stricker.

They were heading that way when someone grabbed her arm a little bit too strong.

-Sorry, miss? - He croacked - I just wanted to tell you I’ve been following your story on the news, I know absolutely all about you, Riley. - Riley felt sick, and she gripped Maxwell’s arm desperately, who seemed amused by the situation.

-Look Riley! You have an admirer! - He grinned - What’s your name sir? - He asked shaking his hand

-Trent, Lord Maxwell - Tren stated never leaving Rileys eyes.

-You’re a fan of mine too? This is so great! I’m really pleased to meet you sir, but I’m afraid we’ll have to leave now - Maxwell said heading towards Drake and Hana who were waving at them - Come on Riley!

Riley felt like outside her own body, she couldn’t believe he was there. After all the time she had been hiding from him. He had finally found her, and not only found her, he had the guts to talk to her, to her friends. She didn’t know where she was walking to, she felt Maxwell guiding her and it was good enough. Before she could notice, they had stopped in front of a ferris wheel. Maxwell had let go of her hand, and someone else had grabbed it. It was a rough touch, but warm. She snapped out of the trance and saw Drake gazing at her.

-Would you like to ride with me?

Riley nodded smiling as she squeezed his hand.

Once on the cart, she rested her head on his shoulder watching the sunlight fade below them.

-This is a hell of a view - Drake mumbled flustered gazing at Riley’s lips.

Riley didn’t think twice, she closed the space between the two of them and kissed him passionately. She had always been independent and strong, but something about Drake made her feel safe. If she had to face Trent again, she needed as much strenght as she could gather, and kissing Drake gave her more than enough.

-Are you ok Ri? - he asked when they parted, his forehead still pressed against hers; he knew her so well, it was as if he could see right through her.

-Actually - she whispered - I saw Trent today.

-Trent, Trent? Your ex Trent?

-Yes - Riley’s voice was cracking and tears were buildind in her eyes.

-But Kai texted me telling they had a lead in Chicago, they went there following a lead!

-How... why... Have you been talking to Kai?

Drake filled Riley in with the details of their investigation. Riley couldn’t believe how much Drake cared about her. Even when he had been pushing her away, he was taking care of her. She couldn’t help but kissing him again, but he pushed her shortly.

-Tell me everything, please.

Riley described him, his now greyish hair, his bowed figure, his scary stare with sunken eyes, his creepy smile and how he had lurked her all day long.

When they stepped out of the ferris wheel, Drake spotted Liam and Bastien arriving across the street.

-Wait here Riley - he urged her as he started running

-Drake, wait for me! -She cried running after him.

Drake stops in the midle of the street, offering his hand.

Just then, a nearby car’s headlights turned on and its engine started purring. As Riley walked over to Drake, the car speeded up in their direction.

Riley pushed Drake just in time to avoid the bumper, rolling herself over the hood, harmlessly.

Liam jogged over there to make sure they were ok when the car started driving in reverse, ready to hit them. When he’s about to scrap Liam, Bastien pulled him to his side while taking out his gun.

The driver speeded, trying to escape, but Bastien was quicker, pulling the trigger twice.

-Stay back! - He yelled as he approached the car.

The windshield was all cracked, two bulletholes in the driver’s side. Without lowering his gun, he opened the passenger’s seat.

-I’m afraid he’s dead - He stated.

Trent’s body was held still by the seatbelt, a bullet wound on his right shoulder, other on his forhead; his eyes opened, without seeing. 

Riley burried her head on Drake’s chest, unable to contain the tears.

-It’s over - he whispered kissing the top of her head as he embraced her - It’s all over.

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

Drake was at the hotel bar resting both his elbows on the counter, he had left Riley with Hana and Maxwell.

It was the first time whiskey hadn’t solved his anxiety, he thought downing half a glass in one glup.

-So, you knew about this Trent guy? - Liam said, seating next to Drake.

Drake just nodded.

 - I feel I must be honest with you, just in case you haven’t realised yet.

-Huh? - Drake asked.

-I plan on proposing to Riley as soon as the dust settles.

- I know. - Drake grunted

- Good - Liam smirked - I don’t want to see you heart broken, but she is too precious. - He stood up -  She needs protection and you know it, - Liam turned around sighing -  protection you clearly can’t give her-  He left the bar, leaving Drake devastated.

He had pushed Riley away once, he almost lost her that night. He knew he wasn’t the best for her, but he couldn’t loose her again. He knew had to act, quickly.

He took his mobile phone and dialed the number hoping she’d be awake.

-Hey! Savannah? Do you still have grandma’s ring?

<NEXT    PREV>

[melty-8ball]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA MANGO,I KNOW,I KNOW WHERE IS GOOPY,ISLE 1,WITH WITH RIBBY N CROACK IN IN CLIP JOIN ,GO!!!!!!!!,SAVE HIM! NOW

The 8 ball looks to Oliver for confirmation. He shrugs. “We might as well, just in case he runs into any trouble.”

“YES. BUT I NEED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME, OK?”

With another nod, he continues. “WAIT OUTSIDE THE CLIP JOINT WHILE I TALK TO HIM. JUST IN CASE HE FEELS UNABLE TO FACE YOU YET.”

“But-! Well... I guess that’s fair… Ok, it’s a deal. Let’s go.”

And off the bois went. Hoping to god nothing interrupted their journey to the farthest Isle from the Casino.

[kissme-hs]

Wove

Hi there! Daddy Harry has got me fucked up :) Here is one more fluff. Hope you like it. Btw talk to me about astrology or if you need any help or just wanna talk, my asks are always open. Feedbacks please:).

Word count :: 1470

You were seven months into pregnancy. Having a round belly whilst having two monkeys at home wasn’t an easy thing. The mood swings and hormones weren’t a much of big help as well. Rose and Noah were only 4 and a half and 3 respectively. quite young the babies were. Plus Harry being busy with the movie promotion and new single coming up was difficult, though he always tried to give you time as much as he can.

You groaned siting down on the couch. The soft spongy stuff giving relief to your hips and your swollen feet as you rest them on the coffee table in front of you. You just had gotten Noah to sleep and now you were beyond exhausted. Harry was at work. Rose in school. Harry had told you that he’d pick Rose up from her school the morning he left so one thing was off your list to worry about.

You closed your eyes and laid head back trying to relax when you sudden pressure on your stomach. She was kicking again. It was a weird thing for you to have her kick during a specific time. In mornings she’s calm but as it makes to afternoon, her hype self starts and so does her legs. You rubbed the swell of your belly trying to get her calm down.

“Hype baby aren’t you? ” you smiled to self with the thought of once again having small bundle of joy in your arms in a few days.  Time went like sand slipping through fingers. It’s like you blinked and your babies were this much big. Though they were pain in nose sometimes, you loved them endlessly. For a mother, her children are her everything. She devotes herself to her kids. So did you. Rose and Noah meant everything to you. They were the centre of your world.

“Can’t wait to meet you Snow.” You whispers as a fast tear rolled down your cheek.

When you found out that this one is gonna be a girl, Harry suggested to name her Snow. Beatiful and pure as it.

“y/n!!!!” Harry came running to you where you stood in the bathroom.

“look its snowing! First Snow fo winter!” He said excitedely. He had so much passion and love in his eyes. No matter how old he grew, he still was a kid at heart. But when his eyes when to the thing which had you distracted from him, he teared up. Blinking your own tears away you nodded smilig. Positve the test showed. One more baby was on the way.

“If it’s a girl can we call her Snow?” he asked with hope in his eyes. All you did was nod and embraced him in a tight hug.

And basically that’s how he came up with it and with the name Rose and Noah as well. Rose because, when she was born she was pink as it and Harry found her immensely delicate. So you guys decided to stop on that name. Noah becasue when he was born, Harry though that he looked more like Ryan Gosling. Though you didn’t think like that, to you he looked like Harry only but for his happiness you let Harry name him Noah. All three names were admirable and suited your kids personality perfectly.

Rose was beautiful and delicate like one. She was kind and was just like her father. Gentle and humble.

Noah was much like you. Bubbly, talkitive and had brown straight hair unlike Rose who had curls at the end. But he too had a kind heart like his father.

Harry was no doubt brought upp a gentleman by his mother. And he was doing the same for kids. Along with you, he gave kids the best habbits he could. How you should always brush your teeth before bed, how you should fold your own clothes, carry your plate to he kitchen etc.Though they were bit too young, he wanted to have it from the beginning. And when kids started following his rules, you could see the happiness and pride in his eyes glistening with love for his kids.

“momma?” You heard small croacked voice. Opening your eyes, you saw Noah standing with tears in his eyes. His hair were messy and his pyajamas was scrunched along with his tee. He had his penguin fluffy toy tucked under his arm. His lips bottom started to wobble so without wasting a time you called him to you.

“baby c'mere. What’s wrong?” You cooed as you opened your arms for the toddler to come in them and being momma’s boy, he gladly did so.

“what happened?” you asked tucking him under your right hand and he insantly hide his face in your chest. You rubbed his back with one hand and ran other in his soft hair.

“yeh wove meh no more afte’ baby come” he said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, how the tiny baby boy was desperately hurt thinking that his mother won’t love him after the new baby. Hearing those words broke you just like every mother. How could you ever stop loving him? But the poor three year old believed that you could.

“oh no no bubba. Momma can never stop loving her precious baby.” you said holding up your own tears. You felt his grip going tight on you. His tiny arms couldn’t reach your back but rested on the swell of your belly.

“b-because new baby is small and need momma more” he said weeping as he oulled away to face you. His nose pink along with his cheek and ears. You cupped his small face and rubbed his tears strained cheek. Collecting the small tear soff his eyes you leaned in to peck his forehead.

“that’s right. Baby is gonna be so tiny and will need mommy but, that doesn’t mean that mommy will stop loving you. Even Rose had to share me with you when you were born. You were so tiny that you need to be looked after all th etime, but that didn’t made mommy to stop loving Rose. now did it huh?” you asked softly still rubbing his cheek. He shook his head sniffling.

“i-i don’t wanna share mommy” he cried once again clutching onto to you and this time, it was bad. He was so innocent that the thought of him sharing his mommy with the new baby was unbearable for him.

“hey hey. Baby look at meh” you said cradling his face. He stared at you sniffling with those green eyes he resembled from his daddy. You smiled softly and put his hand on your belly. His hand small baby hand scrunched at first but eventually flatend on your belly. And soon there was a kick. And taking you by surprise, Noah eyes were wide open and mouth big agaped.

“momma!!! Something happen!!!” he said. Tears now were forgotten.

“yes baby!! It’s your sister. She says she loves you. She just high fived you from momma’s tummy!” you exclaimed gigglng. His face expression changed from surprise to happiness as he sat properly so that he can look at your tummy properly.

“Really mommy?” he asked.

“yed baby!! try again” you said and so he did it again. And once again you felt the kicks. His smiled grew and next thing you knew was Noah kissing your belly.

“I wove you too baby sister.” he said out of love. The heartwarming scene brought tears to your eyes.

“How was you’ day?” Harry asked rubbing your shoulder with your face hidden in his neck. At last you had your man and all you wanted was to have a nice warm cuddle with him. It was past kids bedtime and they were already tucked in beds.

“good. Noah started crying because he thought after Snow is born i won’t love him.” You mumbled pecking the soft skin of his neck.

“really? wha’ happened next?” he asked showing interest in hearing out about his baby. Harry missed spending time with kids so he made uo by hearing to their stories.

“I made him feel the kick a-” you were going on but the loud thud made you pull away. You saw Noah running through your bedroon door and crawling on the bed betweeen you two. Carefully he leaned in and kissed your belly softly and then hugged it.

“love you snowie. I wove you. Always. I am your bwig brother.” He said and ran off to his room before kissing your tummy one more time.

“He fell in love with his sister.” you smiled watching him go and tilted your head to look at harry who had tears in his eyes. You cuddled to him and let him be. Fathers did needed to cry. They’re fathers after all.

[hernymills]

This is Simba. He’ll be 13 in April and despite him trying to act like a grumpy old man sometimes, he’s still a big baby. He fuckin loves soft food that has lamb. And he loves trying to eat tape, no matter how many times you take it away. He’s very fluffy and has never bitten or hissed at a creature in his life. He tried very weakly to hiss during a bath once; it was more like a croack, and much laughter ensued. He doesn’t like being picked up, but has to be in a room with someone always. His favorite place to sleep is my underwear drawer, or on my tummy if I’m on the couch. And his favorite game is when we chase each other back and forth through the apartment. He’s a noisy pain in my butt, but the best friend/surprise I ever got.

I tried to tag but it wouldn’t let me use anything other than the preset. I hope this can put a smile on your face