#ive screamed like actually fully screamed at the top of my lungs at least three times this weekend

[skitskatdacat63]

Sorry guys for being completely unhinged this weekend 🙏 but I can't help it and I refuse to be normal about it

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

5 times you infuriated me and 1 time you made it okay

A/N: okay so the 5 times concept is something i enjoy writing very much, however i am aware that in this piece in particular, a lot of the ideas are underdeveloped and probably especially dont make sense with the ending when you look at the relationship, but please keep in mind that this ‘5 times’ theme i chose focuses on those kinds of incidents so there are a lot of other times in between (and i dont have the time or energy to turn this into a super long fic but perhaps one day.. ) so this is what happened!

Warnings: mentions of torture (like in the 7th when Bellatrix takes to Hermione)

Tags: @expellimarvelous and for some reason my hp taglist got lost so let me know if you’d like to be added!

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I. Bad Start to the Sixth Year

Your sixth year at Hogwarts seems to be off to a good start as you laugh and snack on sweets with two of your three your best friends on Hogwarts Express. Or at least it seemed like it was off to a good start until the train arrives at the station, and Harry is nowhere to be found.

Waving off Ron and Hermione with a promise to catch up, you insist on going to look for him by yourself. Your search leads you all the way to the other side of the strain where the blinds are conveniently drawn. You can hear a voice muffled through the closed door, and you become filled with dread when you identify who it belongs to.

Sliding the door open a crack, you see a familiar head of slicked-back platinum hair. You aren’t able to make out what he says, but you do see him bring down a foot to meet Harry’s nose.

“Malfoy, what the fuck?!” you burst out, causing the Slytherin boy to jump in surprise.

“Y-Y/N- I-I—”

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you think you’re getting away with, but you better get the fuck off this train before I curse you,” you snarl, shoving him aside to get to Harry. Seeing that he’s been petrified, you take your wand out of your jacket pocket and mutter, “finite,” to which your friend thankfully wakes up, blinking a few times. He doesn’t move much, as he tries to regain control of his muscles, and you insist he takes a moment to do so.

Throughout this, Draco has gone so quiet you think he might have actually left, but when you turn your head to meet his stormy eyes, you’re filled with rage, once again.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! Get out!”

“But Y/N, I-I'm—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you say in a lower tone as you tend to your friend, not even sparing him another glance.

Why is it that just when you think there might be a redeemable quality buried deep in Draco Malfoy, he always does something that proves otherwise?

II. Welcome to the Slugclub

“Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?” He admits, trying to shake off Filch’s grasp on his jacket.

His eyes that used to be sharp and bright, have recently become sullen. They lock with yours for a solid moment before he’s ushered out by Snape.

Your eyes linger on his figure as he’s led away from the party— probably longer than they should have, but you can’t help noticing how thin he’s become. You’ve barely seen him all year, despite having a few classes together. He was never that hefty to begin with, but it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in ages. Other than his usual perfectly tailored wardrobe, he now wears dark circles under his eyes, and it’s impossible not to notice how the contours of his face have become that much sharper and his already pale skin has adopted a sickly pigmentation.

You and Harry follow the pair out, but for different reasons. You know that Harry wouldn’t be happy about yours because of his suspicions, but Draco looks like he’s crumbling under stress.

Eavesdropping only proves Harry’s doubts about Malfoy, and he then decides to rejoin the party as to not get caught by Snape, but you hang back, telling him you need to go to the loo.

You wait in the shadows until you hear Snape’s steps scurry away before approaching Malfoy who stays behind, sitting on a ledge. A half-smirk appears on his face upon noticing you like he’s been gathering an arsenal of insults to shoot at you, but really, under the snide mask, he marvels at how lovely you look tonight.

“Straying from your date with Potter?” he spits out Harry’s name like it’s revolting to have on his tongue. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think Potter’s lady is ditching him in favour of a more refined pureblood—”

“He’s one of my best friends!” You roll your eyes and flail your hands up in exasperation. “And how is the nature of our relationship any of your business?!”

He snorts, leaning his back on the walk behind him and crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly.

“You know, I came out here to check and make sure you were okay!” You shout at him hands coming up to furiously push your hair back. “I can’t believe that for a second I thought that— no- but you—”

“You thought what?” His voice has become softer, hard exterior starting to peel away in your presence. He stands from his seat, mild concern washing over his features.

You shake your head, looking anywhere but at him. “N-Nothing—”

“Tell me,” his hands place themselves on your biceps, long fingers curling around your arms gently.

You fall victim to his intense gaze, getting lost in the grey seas of his irises. His features aren’t as hard as they usually are and the grasp he has on you is delicate; like he’s afraid to hurt you and you almost feel like you can let your guard down. Almost.

“Is it true?” you ask him, diverging from the subject and he raises an eyebrow in response. “Did you hex Katie Bell?”

He opens his mouth, and then closes it without a word when he realizes he has nothing to answer to that and you’re the only person he can’t lie to. That’s enough of a confirmation for you. You let out a breath of disbelief and he starts to panic, because contrary to the backwards dynamic the two of you share, part of him does care what you think. “Y/N- p-please listen—”

All emotion leaves your voice as you tell him, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy.”

You shrug him off, and spin on your heel, breaking the eye contact. Walking down the hall, you leave him there to bask in the silence and his dark thoughts.

III. Hair Like You

You’re already teeming with rage as you scour the castle for Ron, who slipped you one of Fred and George’s prank snacks that ended up changing your hair color. Running into Draco Malfoy, of all people, really puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

To make things worse, it looks as though he’s going out of his way to get to you when he spots you from across the courtyard. At first he squints, not fully sure if it’s you with the new physical change, and then tails you down two hallways, not giving a single damn how creepy he may look.

“What do you want, Malfoy—”

“It seems like you’re more obsessed with me than I had originally thought,” he snickers, catching up with your quickened pace.

That’s when it hits you, and you instantly halt, causing him to smack into your back. Spinning around to face him, your eyes widen in horror as you take in the familiar platinum blonde hair— the same shade you saw in the mirror earlier.

“That’s just great!” You throw your hands up dramatically. “Now I look like you!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself—”

“Oh, sod off, Malfoy!”

“You know, it really doesn’t look that bad. Maybe you’re starting to have better taste.”

Despite knowing full well that that was Malfoy speak for a compliment, you’re in no mood for it. “Oh, well I’m so glad that the Slytherin prince thinks me, a lowly commoner, 'doesn’t look that bad’ just fu—”

“No! No! No! Y/N! I didn’t mean—”

“—ck off! Because on top of looking like the most insufferable git in the entire school what I really wanted was to receive a backhanded compliment—” And just then, you spot the familiar redhead with bad influences for older brothers from across the hall who you’re even more pissed off at than Malfoy.

“I don’t have time for this,” is all you say as you bolt down the hall towards Ron, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD, WEASLEY!”

IV. Held Hostage

Hermione’s screams are enough to make you feel like you’re being gutted, and when Bellatrix takes her knife to your arm, you’re absolutely terrified. At least this means your best friend has a break from her torture. In the meantime, you nearly bite through your cheek to hold in your own screams whilst the saddistic woman spells out the hateful term that’s been thrown at you your whole life, carving it into your flesh.

After what feels like hours, the death eater sits back up, admiring the her work with a sickening grin on her face, and you want nothing more than to smack it off. Or at least you would if you didn’t feel like you’ve been drained. What you do feel is defiled; like your own skin is no longer yours, and the blood that runs through your veins doesn’t belong to you.

And Draco Malfoy has been standing on the other end of the room this whole time whilst his barbaric aunt tries to get information out of you.

The rest of what happens is experienced through the blur of hopeless tears your eyes are clouded with, until Harry picks you up off the floor after Bellatrix had pushed you and Hermione to save herself from the falling chandelier. A certain fire surges through you as you regain full consciousness.

You see Harry and Draco fight over his wand, and instinct kicks in as you lunge forward, efficiently tackling the latter to the ground. Snatching the wand out of his hand, you throw it to Harry. The blonde boy’s struggles are weak under your weight, almost half-assed as you feel the tension start to leave his muscles.

“Why?!” you shout in his face, grabbing him by the collar to keep him down. Tears well your eyes, but your gaze pierces through him nonetheless. The feelings of helplessness and emptiness are long gone as angry tracks burn down your cheeks. “Why—”

“Y/N!” Harry scoops you off him in one swift motion, pulling you to where your allies have regrouped. “This isn’t the time- w-we have to get out of here!”

You don’t say another word, and your infuriated eyes target the conflict and fear that resides in Draco’s. He’s left with the image of your anguish and fury engrained in his mind long after you disapparate.

V. Crossing Over

The Dark Lord himself beckoned him, and for a second you thought he might resist, but then his mother called him, extending her hand for him to come to her, and you saw him break.

“No!” You cry out as he starts to take hesitant steps towards the death eaters. “Draco, don’t do this!” His already shaky demeanor falters for a moment at the sound of his first name falling from your lips. “You have a choice.”

Steeling his nerves, he doesn’t allow himself to look back, because he would surely crumble under the weight of your gaze and the pain etched into your features. He continues forward, into the arms of a proud tyrant, and you swear your heart drops out of your chest.

Then, the whole scene with Neville’s heroic spirit ensues and you feel the fire within you flare up again when Harry tumbles out of Hagrid’s arms. Death Eaters that have been backing Voldemort start to disappear, leaving an unevenly distributed cloud of darkness.

Everyone else starts to retreat to the castle to regroup and fight as one, but you chase after the fleeing Malfoy family. It’s as though you have no control as your legs move under you on autopilot and as fast as they can go.

You’ve almost caught up to the trio on the bridge and can no longer help yourself.

“Coward!” You yell, trying your best not to let your voice crack, with no avail. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from spilling freely. Draco meets your eyes with his own that portray a boy who is terrified out of his mind, but you’re relentless. The truth isn’t always easy. “You’re a bloody coward, Malfoy!”

Avoiding your fiery gaze, he turns into his mother’s comfort. Not once do his eyes meet yours again before he disappears in a whisp of black smoke.

What you feel is rage, but with that rage comes with an added indescribable pain and disappointment.

+ Midsummer Night’s Dream

The next time you see the infamous Draco Malfoy is just over a year since he disapparated in a whisp of black smoke. Little do you know, immediately after apparating, the boy fell to his knees in the arms of his mother. He broke that day, and hasn’t been able to put himself back together since, contrary to the proud Malfoy mask he wears out in public. He hides behind crisp suits and perfectly-coiffed platinum locks. It’s enough to have anyone who reads the Daily Prophet fooled about how the heir carries onto a successful path despite everything that has happened.

But not you. He never could fool you of anything, really. So when you and your friends spot him taking a seat alone at the Three Broomsticks you know something’s up, because a refined Malfoy doesn’t just hang out amongst mere commoners like that.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spits out, red fury already starting at the tips of his ears and seething from his narrowed eyes.

As if on cue, Draco’s eyes lift from his glass to meet yours.

Hermione sends you a sympathetic smile before mumbling calming words to her boyfriend. The Malfoys and Weasleys always did get each other riled up.

Harry, who sits beside you, gives you a gentle nudge with his shoulder to get your attention and you can immediately read his expression. He can read yours just as easily and can see that you’re starting to get anxious. “Y/N…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” you simper, standing slowly from your seat. “I’ve got this.”

He casts a glance towards the blond across the room before his eyes come back meet yours, sending you a look as though to ask if you’re sure. You give him a nod and he sends you off with a comforting squeeze of your hand.

As you make your way to the table for one, you’re so focused on slowing your heart rate that you’ve arrived at your destination before you know it, seeing the shiny black dress shoes in contrast to the uneven wood panels of the pub’s floor. When you lift your gaze, it’s then that you realize he’s been staring at you the whole time.

“Malfoy.”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your first name rolling off his tongue lights something inside you— and it’s not pretty.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice is steady, but with a strong undertone of something darker. Like the calm before a storm.

“Can’t a man enjoy a butterbeer on his own?” Despite him being absolutely terrified of you, he somehow manages to exude a certain lightness. You look at his untouched pint and raise an eyebrow and he knows you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Cut the shit, Malfoy.”

Recognizing the beginnings of anger in your tone, he stands as smoothly as he can manage and gestures towards the door. The last thing he wants is for you to snap because he knows very well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your fury.

He follows closely behind as you lead him out into the dim lighting of Hogsmead. The summer air doesn���t feel as heavy as it has for the last week, and the sky proudly shows off the twinkling stars. It would be a perfect night if not for your circumstances.

You stop in your tracks and spin to face him so briskly, your forehead almost hits his chin. “You have one minute to talk before I hex you where you stand.”

“You always did excel in hexes and jinxes—”

“Fifty-five seconds, Malfoy.”

“Uh- erm- o-okay—”

You have about zero patience left. The anger thats been quietly bubbling for the last year has been on the brim of overflowing the second he walked in tonight, but so has all the pain and sadness you’ve kept locked up all this time. “You’re wasting my time.” You prepare to stalk off, but a firm hand pulls you back by your elbow, and for the the first time since the war, your face with Draco Malfoy. It’s the first time tonight that you can really see him. He looks worse than ever.

The silver pools that once resided in his irises look like shells of what they once were. And he sure felt that way, until he saw you. That’s when he realizes how empty he always is until he’s around you. My, how he took that for granted all these years.

Trying your very best, you fight against the urge to give into the part of you who still cares for him and wants to know the last time he had a good night’s sleep. You also try to fight against the water accumulation behind your eyelids, but it only makes it worse.

“What?! What do you want, Draco?!”

The use of his first name is the only sign he needs to be brave for once. Without further hesitation, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once over the initial shock, you give in for only a half second before you come to your senses and push him back, both hands planted firmly on his chest.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!”

“I-I- Y/N, I-I’m so—” Right then, is one of the few times you see what he’s really feeling on the inside be expressed on the outside. “I-I just-I thought—”

“You- you thought what?! We’d ride off into the sunset on the back of a unicorn and live happily ever after?!” You don’t care how frantic you look right now. You don’t care that the midsummer night wind is whipping your hair into complete and utter chaos. And you definitely don’t give a single fuck about how the drunk people stumbling by you giggle uncontrollably. You pause for a moment as you wait for them to be out of earshot, and once they are, you let out a frustrated breath and resume. “Did you honestly believe that you could kiss me, and then everything— all of the absolute shite of a mess would just go away?!”

His gaze drops to the ground that his shiny dress shoes stand on, with a few platinum strands that fall from their place. Those are the only visible signs of something amiss with the well-dressed man. But you see something else cloud his features: shame. The last time you saw that, which was also the last time you saw him, he left. He always left you while you were angry, enraged, and never stuck around to face the truth.

Draco Malfoy decides that this time is going to be different.

He has felt as empty as his eyes appeared for months, but when his gaze rolls back up to meet yours, you see the grey storms you saw when you first met him. Sure, they were masked by an outer shell that was brimming with entitlement, but they have now what they had then. Purpose.

“Y/N,” His hands twitch as he fights the urge to reach out for yours, deciding against it in favour of using two words you’ve been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry.” You soften, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you carried in your shoulders. The angry tears that stung the backs of your eyes melt to something peaceful as they escape their ducts. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I know I don’t deserve another chance, or any of the chances you’ve given me, but if you’ll give me one more I promise I’ll be better. Everything you’ve ever said about me is true; I am a coward, but I’m not leaving this time.”

“And what if I want you to leave?” You ask, testing the waters, more than anything else.

“If you tell me to leave— if that is what you truly want, then I will. Tell me to leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Okay, then leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Y-Yes—” You stammer out a complete lie. Every cell on your body knows it’s a lie, and apparently so does he.

“I don’t believe you.”

More than anything, you want to fling yourself into his arms but you feel like your feet have been colashoo-ed to the ground. A corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft lopsided smile as his hands raise to thread fingers through the top of your hairline, smoothing wild strands away from your face. His touch is so careful and delicate than you could have ever imagined. He leans down slowly and stops just as his lips have brushed over yours, asking for permission, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Syllables get caught in your throat, and channel themselves through you body as you move to slate your mouth over his. The sensation is so delicately mind-blowing, and it leaves you absolutely breathless when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

All you can manage to breathe out is, “stay”.

The way your breath fans over his lips is intoxicating, and he’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful, no work of art finer, than the way you’re looking at him.

“I’m not leaving this time. Never again.”

His grasp tightens as he pulls you back to his lips and your fingers curl around the light fabric of his shirt. Every emotion and feeling accumulated over lost time is poured into this kiss.

This time, what you feel for him is something stronger and far different than anger.

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 16: Lexa (IV)

Love is weakness.

Her father was right. 

It’s an Achilles heel that if left uncovered will only lead to one’s ultimate demise. 

How could she have been so foolish? 

She almost let the illusion of love get in the way of her seizing a once in a lifetime opportunity… 

Lexa pushes her legs to go faster as she runs down the semi-desolate streets of her neighborhood. She knows that to an outsider’s eye she must look like a madwoman. Running down the middle of the street in a full-blown sprint, dressed in jeans and a button-down. But Lexa could care less about appearances at the moment. Not now. 

Not when every last ounce of her body is screaming at her to run.

When Lexa first took off out of Murphy’s house and started to run, she hadn’t had an exact destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed to run… Run as fast and as far as she could. Away from the harsh reality of the current situation.

Away from Clarke. 

The longer Lexa ran, though, the more she realized that her subconscious did indeed have a destination in mind. Her body was automatically leading her in the direction of her house. 

Lexa was heading home.

But for how long?

The question slams into Lexa, almost knocking the air right out of her lungs. She slows her pace down to a light jog as her mind picks up speed. 

Lexa already knows the answer. 

If she’s being 100% honest with herself, she’s more than known it for a while now, but up until this point, has been too terrified to admit it. 

Lexa turns the corner onto her street and heads straight for her house. It’s dark. Too dark for anyone to be home yet. And for once in her life, she’s beyond thankful for this. 

Lexa can’t deal with people-- especially the ones that matter most to her-- at the moment. No. They will only make what she needs to do next even harder than it already is. 

The time for unwarranted advice and questions has come and gone. Lexa’s mind is already up. 

Lexa slips into her house, pausing for a brief second for signs of anyone else, and then makes her way upstairs to her bedroom. She quickly grabs a large duffle bag out of the top shelf of her closet and tosses it down onto her bed. 

There isn’t a ton that she needs. Maybe some clothes. A few books. Her laptop. All the rest can be bought or sent for later. The school has already promised to ensure that the basics are covered for her. So what else is there really to take?

Lexa throws a random mixture of clothes and books into the bag and then lets out a sigh as she scans the rest of the contents of her room.

What’s one supposed to take with them when they’ve made the decision to up and leave their life behind?

A moment passes and then Lexa spots it. 

The framed charcoal sketch of her sleeping that Clarke gave to her as a Christmas gift last year. It had been one of those serendipitous surprises that had come long after they had already celebrated and had opened up their gifts to one another. Clarke had suggested that they go retreat to Lexa’s room after having survived a three-hour-long dinner complete with a lively debate surrounding military strategy in the middle east. 

The quintessential Woods family Christmas dinner. 

Lexa had been too preoccupied with apologizing to Clarke that at first, she had failed to notice the newly framed sketch sitting on her bedside table. In fact, it wasn’t until they were in the midst of one of their nightly makeout sessions did she even realize it was there at all. 

But once Lexa spotted it… 

It became her most valuable and cherished possession. That sketch was the first thing she would lay her eyes on in the morning… Unless, of course, Clarke had slept over. And it was the last thing she looked after before falling asleep.

It was her constant reminder of love.

Lexa exhales again and then slowly makes her way over to the bedside table. She picks up the frame allowing her fingers to trace over the smooth glass surface as she feels the beginnings of tears start to whelm up within her eyes. 

“Love is weakness,” Lexa says softly, almost as if trying to convince herself that the words are true. She swallows back the tears as she takes one last look at the frame. 

Then, with a sudden resolution, Lexa places it back down on the bedside table, zips up her duffle bag, and leaves.

__________ 

“Fuck!” The familiar voice cuts through the unsettling stillness of the hospital corridor causing Lexa to momentarily pause. She has been methodically walking laps around the hallways for well over an hour now, with no real destination nor desire to stop. 

Lexa had promised Clarke that she wouldn’t run… 

But still… 

The overwhelming itch was there. 

She needed to keep moving. Even if it was in pointless circles. 

And so she did. Around and around again. 

Twenty laps in total so far.

Curious, Lexa turns into a hidden alcove and immediately comes face to face with O, who is leaning up against the glass of a vending machine, looking as if she’s milliseconds away from officially throwing in the towel and giving up.

“Octavia?” Lexa asks. O lifts her head as her face morph into a look of abrupt anger.

“Don’t call me that,” O responds harshly. 

“Right. My apologies. O.”

“What’d you want?” 

Lexa shakes her head and inches backward, sensing the overwhelming hostility radiating off of the younger girl. She goes to leave the alcove and head back to her laps, when suddenly--

“Why’d you do it?”

The question rips through Lexa like a bullet, shredding everything it touches into uneven jagged ribbons of pain and regret. She stops dead in her tracks and then swallows dryly.

“What do you mean?” Lexa replies, already knowing the answer.

“Clarke. Why’d you do it?” O stares at Lexa, eyes boring straight through her seemingly impenetrable walls. 

“Oct--”

“I told you already. Stop calling me that. It’s not my name.”

Lexa slightly recoils as a wave of confusion washes over her. “Sorry. I don’t understand. If Octavia isn’t your name, then why have we been calling you it?”

O lets out a weighted sigh and then collapses down against the vending machine. Lexa follows her lead and joins her on the floor. 

“It is my name. It just… It just doesn’t feel right. At least not anymore.”

Lexa nods. “And O does?”

“Yeah. I think so,” O responds out loud to herself more than to Lexa. “And… And I would appreciate it if you used they/ them when talking about me.”

Lexa nods again as she digests the new piece of information. “Okay.”

“Okay?” O asks slightly unsure of if she’s heard Lexa correctly.

“Yes. Okay. If that’s what you prefer to be called, then that’s what I’ll use from now on.”

“You’re serious?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be serious?” 

“I dunno… I guess I just thought it would be…” O stumbles over their words as they start to pick at the cracked rubber on their beat-up converse. “Nevermind.” 

“Be what?” 

“Harder, I guess.” 

Lexa silently studies O for a moment or two, fully taking in all of the subtle, but meaningful, changes from the 16-year-old girl that Lexa once knew. The shorter hair. The androgynous skewing wardrobe. Even down to the way that they carry themselves. 

There’s a distinct air of self-assurance. Small but noticeable nonetheless. 

“You haven’t told anyone else, have you?” 

O shakes their head. “You’re the first… Or technically the second. Raven knows too. But I didn’t tell her. She just sorta figured it out.”

Raven. 

How could she forget about Raven? 

Lexa had gotten so preoccupied between Anya and the sudden reemergence of Clarke that she hadn’t even thought to inquire about the one other constant in her life. The sole person, besides her sister, had made an actual effort to stay in touch with her over the years. To check-in and send a “hey! how are you surviving in the land of tweed and crumpets” text every so often, regardless of whether or not they got a text back.

“Lexa?” O asks, snapping Lexa back into the moment.

“Raven. Is she okay? Have you seen her?”

O nods. “Yeah. Actually, that’s where I just was. She’s awake but…”

“But? But what? O, what’s wrong with--”

“She can't move her legs.”

The single sentence all but guts Lexa. She stares at O searching for a sign-- any sign-- that there's been some sort of grave misunderstanding, but is only met with a familiar look of helplessness.

Lexa swallow down the lump of growing emotions as her stomach begins to Cirque du Soleil itself within the confines of her body. “What did the doctors say?”

O shakes their head as the look of fear and helplessness spreads until it encompasses every inch of themselves. “I dunno. But I was there when she figured it out. And… And, yeah.” 

Once again, the silence seeps back in as Lexa mind races through a minefield of thoughts. One exploding after the next. 

Anya.

Does Anya know?

Anya must not know. Otherwise, their whole interaction would have been vastly different. 

But Anya can’t remain in the dark for too much longer. Can she? 

And when she discovers the truth… 

Run.

Lexa needs to run. 

Her body instantly ignites with the insatiable itch. She should run. Run far and fast. She’s done it before. 

So why not do it again?

Clarke.

A sudden vision of those crystal blue eyes invades Lexa’s mind, all but eviscerating the other thousands of other toxic thoughts. 

No, running isn’t an option… 

Not any more.

“I never answered your question,” Lexa says breaking the silence between them.  

“Huh?” 

“You asked me why I did it. Why I left.”

“Lexa, it’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“I left because it was easier than staying.” Lexa exhales with a weighted sigh and then waits in silence as it once again takes over the room.

A moment passes…

And then another…

Instant regret. 

It flows through her veins like white water rapids. She shouldn’t have revealed that… especially not to the younger sibling of the girl who’s life she all but ruined by up and running away to the other side of the world. 

Lexa goes to open her mouth again in order to fill in the blanks left by her statement, when suddenly--

“I get that,” O replies in nothing more than a whisper. 

The three simple words wrap themselves around Lexa like a much needed invisible embrace. A light laugh of shock slips out from her lips. “You do?”

O nods their head. “Yeah. I more or less did the same thing to Raven. Except what I did was way worse. I didn’t just disappear. I flat out outed her and lied about what happened between the two of us. I made her out to the bad guy because it was easier than admitting the truth about myself. And I’ve hated myself ever since that moment. The easier choice always comes with a consequence. Just wish I understood what that was before I permanently fucked things up.”

“Nothing’s in life is permanent.”

“God, I hope your right,” O responds. They run their hand methodically up and down over the short stubble on the back of their head in a sign that Lexa notices right way to signify the need for comfort. 

An automatic smile spreads across Lexa’s face. So much has changed and yet… 

O is still O. 

“Well, I have an excellent track record of rarely being wrong. So there’s that.” 

O laughs in response and then pauses for a moment as if internally debating whether or not to ask their next question, but Lexa already knows what it is. She locks eyes with O and gives them a reassuring nod. “It’s okay to ask.”

“So…” O begins to slightly gnaw on her bottom lip. “Are you going to stick around this time?”

“I plan to, yes.”

“Good. Cause my sister really needs you in her life,” O replies and instantly Lexa feels the raw truth of those words. 

“I know.” Lexa gives O a small nod of understanding. “I need her too.”

[bby-namjoon]

Mafia AU: BTS - NamjoonxReader

{Part 1} {Part 2}

——————————

Your head was spinning as you slowly opened your eyes, the faint yellow of passing streetlights illuminating the back seat of the car every few seconds. It took you a moment to realise what had happened and that you was in the back of a moving vehicle. Your heart began to race and you were about to scream and freak out, ready to lunge for the door handle or to smash a window out to dive to your safety when a hand touched your hair, making you flinch and look up.

Namjoon.

Your movement made him turn his attention from the view out the window and down to your face. “You’re awake, thank god. Are you okay?”

“She’s awake?” another voice spoke up from the front seats and you realised it was Jungkook, his head appearing from around the passenger seat to see for himself. “I’m surprised, I thought she’d be out for hours.” You were confused, your disorientated mind beginning to swirl with questions but your mouth wasn’t cooperating to ask them out loud; What was happening? How did you get here? Was your father dead or alive?

“Y/N?” Namjoon spoke up again, waiting for an answer to his previously asked question.

You shook your head, dazed eyes looking up at him as your head rested against his thigh. He frowned as he realised you were too weak to say anything, instead he offered you his hand and you outstretched some of your fingers from their place on your stomach, not quite able to lift your palm along with them. In response he placed his hand on top of yours, gently giving it a reassuring squeeze as you looked up at him, an evident frown still plastered across his face as he turned his attention back out the window. This was the last thing you saw before your heavy eyelids fell closed, the chemicals running through your bloodstream still prominent.

The next time you awoke you was in a bed with your arm attached to an IV, your head was a little dazed but you could actually see and think straight unlike the last time you’d regained consciousness. You looked around, quickly realising that this wasn’t a hospital you was in, but a bedroom. Was you alone? Your hand reached for the IV, ripping it from your arm with a wince as you pulled yourself out of bed. You wavered a little as you got to your feet, your body not used to the sudden amount of movement you were making after being passed out for god knows how long.

The marble floor was cold against your feet as you walked towards the door, your reflection catching your eye. Your hair was an absolute mess but it was the least of your worries. You reached for the door handle and pulled it open, stepping out into the hallway. You stood still for a moment, taking in your surroundings before walking towards the staircase at the end of the hall. As you neared the stairs you could hear voices coming from the floor below and you felt a sense of relief when you heard the familiar laugh of Hoseok.

You held the rail as you walked down, following the echo of the boys voices. You was just about to enter the room when Jin walked out, a look of shock on his face when he saw you stood before him.

“Aish! You scared me!”

“I’m sorry!” you apologised and he shook his head,

“It’s fine, I just didn’t expect to see you stood in front of me, I’m glad you’re awake, you should’ve called for one of us to help you.”

“She’s been passed out you idiot, she didn’t even know where she was” Hoseok spoke up as he appeared in the doorway. “You look like hell by the way, how are you feeling?

“Lightheaded and like I need a shower..” you begun, your eyes looking past the two men before you. “Is Namjoon here? I-I need to know what’s going on.”

“He’s out but when he’s back I’m sure he’ll be able to answer some of your questions, but no promises.”

You frowned at his response, knowing full well Namjoon was very careful with what he lets slip. Jin saw the look on your face as you chewed on your bottom lip, you looked helpless. “Anyway!” he piped up, “you need to eat and drink something, we don’t want you passing out again. We’ll make you some food and you can go and have a bath or a shower or whatever you wanna do, we were told to look after you so that’s what we’ll do.”

He put his hand on the small of your back and led you back towards the staircase, taking you to the bathroom. “Where am I, Jin?” you asked as you sat down on the closed toilet seat, watching him warm up the shower water.

“You’re at Namjoon’s,”

“He has a really nice house,” you reply as you look around the bathroom, “it’s fancy.”

He laughed a little, “yeah, he’s got good taste.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

He turned to me, drying his wet hands on a towel that was hung beside him. “To be totally honest, I don’t. We’re working it out and until we do, we can’t really give you any answers.”

“Have you told the police? Are they investigating?”

“No,”

“Why? We need to catch those men, what if they’ve hurt my dad? Oh my goodness, my dad!” it had only just fully dawned on you that your father could also be in grave danger. Why wouldn’t they tell the police?

“Y/N, please just wait for Namjoon to get back, and hopefully he can clear this up a bit better for you. I really can’t say anything more.”

You put your head in your hands and he pulled you in for a hug, your face becoming pressed against his stomach as your arms wrapped around his waist.

When you regained your composure he left and told you he’d lay a change of clothes out for you on the bed that you’d woken up in. You’d thanked him and undressed, climbing into the tub and standing under the showerhead, the hot water rushing over your body.

You couldn’t help but think and think and think as you stood beneath the water, your hands scrubbing at your body a little harder out of hope that the soap would clean the bad thoughts from your mind like it cleaned your skin.

When you got out you wrapped a towel around your body, plodding across the corridor and back to the room you’d slept in. Jin had left some folded clothes on the bed along with a brush, some moisturiser and there was also a pair of slippers were now sat on the floor beside where you stood.

What a sweetheart.

You dried your body and hair, running the brush through your damp locks before moisturising and picking up the clothes.

These were definitely Namjoon’s.

You hesitated before pulling the black trackbottoms up your legs, surprised that the man you’d only ever seen in fitted suits even owned clothes like this. Lastly you pulled the longline black tee over your head and tucked it in, sliding your feet into the slippers.

You dropped your used towel into the washing basket and excitedly jogged downstairs, the smell of chicken and ramen making your stomach rumble. You had eagerly thanked the boys as the three of you sat down to eat, your bowl being filled to the brim. It turned out you’d been in and out of consciousness for 2 days so the fact your stomach just couldn’t get enough had started to make sense.You was in the middle of eating when you heard the front door open and close and the sound of voices drifted through the air to the dining area.

“Whoa, she’s risen!” Yoongi announced as he saw me sat at the table, his hands automatically going for Hoseok’s chopsticks and lifting some noodles from the pot and sucking them into his mouth.

“Welcome back,” Jungkook smiled, taking the chopsticks from Yoongi and repeating his actions.

“Namjoon will be pleased about this,”

“Namjoon will be pleased about what?” he asked as he walked in, “has anyone checked on-” and when he saw you sat at the end of the table a look of surprise was in his eyes. “You’re awake!”

You nodded and he walked closer, his eyes scanning you to see if he could sense how you were feeling without even asking. “Can we talk?”

He sighed at your words and everyone got tense, getting up from their seats. “We’ll give you two some space..” and as they filed out they caught Tae at the door, dragging him with them. By their reaction you could guess that this wasn’t going to be good, the rate of your heart picking up out of anxiety.

“Are you wearing my clothes?” he asked as he took a seat, amusement across his face as he tried to ease the elephant in the room.

You nodded, “Jin gave them for me to wear after I showered..sorry. He and Hoseok also said that when you’d get home, you’d maybe be able to answer some of my questions..?”

“I already know what you’re going to ask, so hear me out. I don’t know where your father is, he hasn’t picked up any of my calls. Those men that came for you are bad news, and I’m not going to explain how I know them because that’s irrelevant, but what you can know is that they were sent after you by a person you don’t want to get involved with, and I don’t think they knew I’d be with you that night, but I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if I wasn’t, because they wanted to get to you and since they didn’t want to kill you on sight, it means that there’s some sort of plan going down and we need to work out what that plan is, and why it’s even taking place. When the man got to you he injected you with a strong ketamine which is a sort of date rape drug that causes you to pass out, and that’s why you’ve been in and out for a couple days but I got my doctor to help you and since you’re awake I’m assuming that you’ll be okay by the end of today. As you can probably tell, my job title does go beyond just trade, and one day I may tell you the depths of the truth, but until then I need you to trust that I am going to protect you, I will help to find your father and we will get to the bottom of this. Just know that the police aren’t involved for good reason, I just need you to trust me and also trust my boys. Do you understand that?” His tone was firm but you could tell he was telling you the truth.

You nodded, “I trust you..Thank you for putting yourself at risk to save me.”

He shook his head, “It’s okay, you’re a good person. You don’t deserve to get mixed up in all this.”

“So what does this mean? Do I need to hide out here forever?”

“I think for now it’s best for you to stay here and lie low. As long as I’m with you, you’ll be fine.”

You sighed and he reached out, squeezing your hand.

“You’re lucky you wasn’t awake to hear them make a big deal about those hickeys on your neck.” he smiled and your hand went up to touch where he was looking,

“I completely forgot about them, are they bad?”

“They’re faded now but they used to be a lot worse,”

“What was they saying?”

“They were just being nosey and asking what we were up to and if we were fucking.”

You scrunched your nose at his use of crude words, “we didn’t even get to that.”

“It’s a shame, I think we’ve both been fantasising about it for a while..I know I still do.” he smirked, his hand falling to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You couldn’t help but smile, he was just so cheeky and confident and he so easily took your mind away from the situation, making your thoughts wander to the intriguing idea of him bending you over and bringing both of your imaginations to life. “Maybe one day soon I’ll get to see you in nothing but my t-shirt, and when you’re ready for that, you know where I’ll be.” he hummed as he stood up, purposely leaning close to your ear and letting his lips graze your skin as he pushed to his feet.

You just knew that he’d be the death of you, but that’s if someone else doesn’t get to you first.

{Part 3}

[survivorwesteros]

Episode 10: the gag is you actually have to PLAY to succeed - Luke

Jordan Pines is mean to me. I love Drew. I love Luke. Steffen can eat a dick. Andrew is an icon. Darian is a mess.

Who is this Nic?

how do i feel? dead inside. i sent steffen receipts of jordan saying he wants steffen out cause........................................................................... why not i dont feel like i can trust jordan! and i still might vote steffen out cause i wanna win

I guess I've been playing like Tony? Only in the sense I'm trying to blindside people out of paranoia that theyre gonna blindside me first. 

I'm definitely not in power like Tony I'm more like... in the middle. I went from the bottom to the bottom of the middle... I'm shooting for atleast true middle.

Welcome to today’s episode of………….. 

DO WE FLIP ON JORDANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

(fans scream as Bob Barker rises from the not-quite-dead with his long-ass stick microphone) 

As mentioned in last week’s episode (although not really because I haven’t done a confessional that wasn’t Gilmore Girls related in weeks), flipping on Jordan would be a shitty thing to do. He and I have been playing together since the very beginning, he even let me off of the Others before him, which led me to Lannister to make the new tribes and just put me in the most amazing place ever. Find Luke, work with Ashley and Darian (rip the dead), get Jordan back, never lose a challenge, the joys and thrills of pitting Darian and Luke against each other. Since merge, we’ve worked through every plan together and been right about every vote except Lily, and we got immediate and swift revenge for that. We’ve planned every step together, he’s been in the vast majority of my alliances, he’s kept a hold on working with Nic while I have with Luke, which has gotten us to the point we’re at now, the chance to walk to the end. We play the tribal phase of the game so well but we’ve never made a merge together, and this game we’ve finally gotten the chance to play a merge together and it’s gone amazingly well. Like AMAZINGLY well. We ran this game from the second we pulled all the corners together and blindsided Ashley. It would be an amazing end to the story to get to the end together and fight it out. 

But. 

I think he beats me if he gets there with me. He has two practically built-in votes of Ben and Lily in a jury of eight. That’s terrifying. And if we’re at the end with Luke, he would get Nic too. I think he’s the only one here of the six who wins if he makes it. I could potentially battle him out and get Ashley and Darian, and possibly Brian, if any of them have forgiven me, but that’s three maybes against his three sure things. He’s got a good story of not even starting in this game and working his way in twice. He’s been strong, he’s been social, he’s done an arguably better job than I have in that respect. And he only needs to convince Steffen and Andrew of that. He deserves to win. And I think he knows he has me if we go together so he wants to play it out, because going against someone like Steffen who played a completely different game is going to be scarier to him than someone who’s played similarly but on a more limited scale. 

He just messaged me about how he had a revelation. Of why everyone’s just been letting us go through the game together. He says it’s because they’re waiting for us to turn on each other. They don’t want to deal with the fallout of coming for one and having to leave the other, so they’re waiting until we pull the trigger and start the war that they think is inevitable. Because they all think we can’t want to go to the end with each other. And they’re half right. Jordan still might turn on me but I think he’s genuinely not that afraid of fighting me in the finals. It’s not inevitable to him because he could want to go to the end with me. But I don’t want to go with him. Not in this scenario, not with this jury. 

It can’t be this week, Andrew should go now. It’s too soon to make the move because I lose the strong connection to Nic and then there’s nothing stopping Steffen/Andrew/Nic from teaming up to take us down. Luke and I would still have the idol on our side but one of us would NEED to win immunity or guess correctly on the idol (only a 50/50 guess but still). But letting him stay runs the risk of him winning his third immunity, or even his third and fourth immunity, and walking to the end anyway. He’s vulnerable now, in a way that I don’t know if he ever will be again. And passing up on that chance is scary, but for the rest of the layout of the game, it has to happen, because the only other number I’m confident with is Luke, and I’m not going into F5 with only a duo. 

So the answer is yes. We do flip on Jordan. Not tonight, but hopefully soon. And hopefully it doesn’t have far-reaching consequences. But yes.

hey confessionals......... long time no see.... 

so if this vote goes as planned i really did that i think jordans going home and tbh not to sound overconfident but its mostly from me

soooooooooo ill add that to my checklist of things i did

Love how Jordan has played off he's been saving me this whole time and trying to work with me and keep me in the loop like. Lmao I haven't believed that shit for a second. He's strong armed me going for the longest time and he's getting what he wants tonight so. Rip me. Out of two storybook games two days in a row. Honestly, who lets Jordan Pines get his way?

While I like to think of myself as an ok player, Ive spent the majority of this game screaming at the top of my lungs, first of all instant tribal is insane so the best thing to do is at least make sure that my ass isn’t grass, so I tried spending my time trying to get Darian out, but Jordan and Darian went to work targeting Andrew, thank god Andrew canceled every vote, thanks to the magical dragon egg that came out his ass.  So the revote comes around, Darian is after Luke and we’re like, PERFECT, but in the process of that night, Nic tells me that Jordan was targeting me, yeah thats great, wish I could fully care at this point, but seeing as I entered a truce with him, I’d hope he would keep promises this time before turning on me.  Now I’m done, you turn on me and thats your last mistake, now I’m out for blood, but I just got to push the right buttons now, so I got Andrew paranoid and I sent him on his way to talk to Nic, who magically “came up” with an idea to target Jordan, but we need Luke, and I’m here trying to make sure everyone is sane, and it turns that Jordan is after Andrew again, and it turns out Im lying to Drew again, but leaving him out of the loop may need to happen since he and Jordan are close, so we’ll see what happens, but I need betrayers gone, and if I need to betray in order to be in a favorable position, maybe thats not that bad.

bye guys......i cant believe im getting either rocked out or getting 5th place 

luke was supposed to vote jordan but i guess he wants that 2nd place... cant blame him i guess cuz i wanted it too 

WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE 

"When I asked Andrew what happened and how he got it to me you know what he said I couldn't betray Steffen and Nic was Nic so it wasn't like it was hard They don't want to allign with you They want to use you this round" - Jordan to me 

Jordan really knows how to play me!! it's thru pathos. What do i dooooo............................... YOU KNOW WHat steffen probbly knew about Andrew's advantage and voted Andrew because he knew andrew wasnt going home. Do Steffen and Andrew wanna make their final 2 any more obvious? We can name the chat topic HOUSE BOHN and he and andrew can be the admins cuz at this point.............why not anyway today has been a rough day. 

also speaking about obvious alliances let's call out lucas/drew/jordan perhaps

Guess whos back to square one? me. I have no close allies I just ruined all of them so xoxoxoxoxox............ Also all my confessionals have been so ugly and cringey its like looking back at your social media from 2011 except its a paragraph you wrote about an ORG a week ago

I'm really bored so I'll stop acting messy and compare everyone in this game to Abi gifs 

Luke- 

Steffen- 

Andrew- 

Drew- 

Jordan-

 Me:

After everything that Drew and I have done and planned in this game it could all be coming down to me potentially having to draw a rock. I can't believe that I could be WILLINGLY drawing a rock for JORDAN PINES (that's an episode title if I ever did see one tbh!).The same Jordan Pines that sent me to the wall way back when...like HOW does this happen..I'm shook. In the event that I do need to draw a rock and I do go home then I gave my idol to Drew so he's guarantee to make the final 4 because I really want him to win this game if he can't. In the event that I don't need to pull a rock and I stay then either Drew or I need to win next immunity so the idol can be played on the vulnerable person and we can make final 4. At that point it doesn't matter that our close bond would be exposed because the most that could happen at that point is a tiebreaker challenge which we could fight to win. An ideal scenario would be if it were final 2 and it was #Drewcas sat there but a final 3 with somebody like Nic or Steffen that haven't really done anything is idea so that one of us can win this game.

UMMMMMMMMMMM STEFFEN THINKS LUKE IS SO FAR UP JORDAN'S ASS THAT EVERYTHING IS OVER FOR HIM NOW I CAN'T EVEN FUNCTION

I repeat, up ******JORDAN'S****** ASS 

Me and Luke: have been best friends since I showed up on Lannister and he complained that he had no one to work with there and I was like "Fuck, me too!" Me and Luke: talk out every move of the game together Me and Luke: pass idols back and forth for safekeeping like it's a damn game of monkey-in-the-middle (and y'all really are the monkeys) Me and Luke: call each other almost every night for hours until the sun rises in England Me @ everyone every vote: "Let me talk to Luke, I should be able to get him to vote with me." Me @ anyone who asks: "Oh my god, I love Luke, he's literally the best." Me @ Darian: "Bye I'm not voting for Luke, that kid is so important to me." Everyone else: "zOMG I'M SO CONFUSED WHO IS LUKE WITH, IT MUST BE JORDAN, THIS MAKES NO SENSE, WHY WOULD HE DO THIS, THE WORLD IS ENDING, JORDAN PINES HAS HIS PUPPET!!!!!!!!!!" Me and Luke: 

Like BYEEEEEE the reason you didn't fight harder with me to get me to vote out Jordan is because you thought you already had majority without me, like I heard all about it, every step of the way. And now you're mad at me because I signed your death warrant??? I quite literally cried for this vote, don't put this part on me too, especially when you think you're in this shitstorm because you're reading the entire game incorrectly. Nic was the one Jordan thought he had and he lost that person, Jordan has no one now because after this vote, he doesn't have me, which means he doesn't have Luke. But I'm not gonna be the one to tell you that. Or tell Jordan that. Or anyone. Because somehow Luke and I have played this game lock-step since fucking Boat-O-Cross and no one took the time to notice. 

I don't think Steffen is actually going to take it to rocks. If Jordan was pulling one too then he might because that's the person he's really afraid of. But I don't think he'll risk a 1/3 chance of leaving himself to get a 1/3 chance of eliminating the person who Steffen thinks is Jordan's puppet, who in his eyes has already done his job of protecting Jordan when he was vulnerable.  So after ALLLLLLL the conflict of the past 18 hours, I should be getting what I want out of this tribal. The only thing that fucks me up now is if this actually goes to rocks and Luke goes home. But even then, I have his idol right now, so like....... one way or another, I'm making it to F4. Hopefully that's with Luke, Nic, and Steffen, which looks nothing like the final five I had planned so many cycles ago, but this is working out even better. If I can get rid of Jordan and make it to the end without him being too upset with me, I could very conceivably get Ben, Lily, Ashley, Darian, and Jordan to vote for me to win. Hell, Brian might too, and who knows what Andrew will do, or the other person to leave in that ideal scenario. But like I don't feel like I've burned any juror bridges. There are still two rounds left to go and a lot of shit can go down, like Jordan winning out, Luke and I guessing wrong on the idol and not making final four together, people in jury being more bitter than I'm anticipating or seeing someone differently than I'm seeing them and rewarding their game over mine, like I've seen it all before. But I feel good about this. The rest of this season? It's doable.

Steffen is going off at me for not telling him I was voting Andrew and I'm SCREAMING. Just because he's only just decided to wake up and start playing doesn't mean the rest of us have. We've actually been playing whereas he's just been like "oh well gosh golly I sure do hope the vote isn't against little old me!" And then doing nothing about it like....the gag is you actually have to PLAY to succeed

Drew and Luke can choke 

Luke is a patronizing asshole and I’d literally put my hand in a blender than speak to him again 

[12/10/16, 8:19:10 AM] Lucas: heY STEfFen [12/10/16, 10:39:50 AM] Steffen Bøhn: whats up [12/10/16, 10:40:46 AM] Lucas: oh nm :) you? [12/10/16, 10:41:05 AM] Steffen Bøhn: well you know got lied to so thats fun [12/10/16, 10:42:42 AM] Lucas: always fun [12/10/16, 10:43:21 AM] Steffen Bøhn: so like I was hoping you would try to explain why you were playing along with this “plan” the entire time when you could’ve just told me that you weren’t interested, I would’ve completely been ok with it, its better than this [12/10/16, 10:44:17 AM] Lucas: i mean, that's survivor. you have to play the game and you have to get information and play your cards right. it wouldn't be survivor if everybody just told the truth the entire time [12/10/16, 10:45:38 AM] Steffen Bøhn: Im sorry that came off as just patronizing if I’m being honest, like I want to hear this from your perspective cause I’m not seeing it now and I’d like to [12/10/16, 10:48:13 AM] Lucas: If I'd just been like "oh well I don't wanna vote Jordan out I'm voting Andrew out" you know damn well that you would have run straight to Nic and Andrew and been like "oh my god Luke isn't voting with us what are we going to do" and then have me be a potential target? It would have been stupid of me to have shown my cards to you at that point. Believe it or not I have been playing this game 

again rather would jump onto a bed of nails than continue this conversation