#something about bloody hands reaching out in desperation for eachother

[benderclub]

chat. chat is this real. chat are you listening to me right now. chat.

[jell0buss-37]

Charmer (Dylan Lenivy x reader) Part 5

Okay! Sorry for the wait, but I promise it's worth it! Some of the parts from chapter 3 will be playing a big part in this, and I think you guys will really like what's in store for this chapter. :))

Tw: gore, painful injury to reader, stabbing, other than that some sweet fluff and a worried Dylan. :)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You both flinch in surprise. Of all the things to be hearing at nighttime, in the woods no less, should be the most blood chilling fucking scream.

You pull away from one another, looking at eachother in fearful confusion. "Was that…" "Abi." You suddenly realize, your stomach dropping. You start walking back to where you left the others, Dylan quick to follow you.

Hearing gunshots, you both begin sprinting. You make it back in time to see Abi running up to Ryan and Kaitlyn, tears staining her face. "What the fuck happened!?" Dylan asks everyone, all of them looking just as fearful and confused.

You scan Abi for any signs of injury, glad to find nothing serious. "I-I-... NICK- HE JUST- MONSTER-" She was hyperventilating, obviously seriously shaken up.

"We heard gunshots, what happened!?" Ryan asked, while you and Kaitlyn desperately tried to calm her down. "NICK! HELP NICK-" Abi finally screamed out. "Ryan, go find him. Here, take the gun in case something attacks you." Kaitlyn ordered him, handing him the shotgun.

He looks a bit offput by the weapon, holding it nervously, but nonetheless, he nods. "O-okay. I'll be back guys." He begins to walk in the direction Abi came from, but you run over to where you were sitting, grabbing your bow and the sack of arrows.

"Hold on, I'm coming with you." You state, lightly jogging up to Ryan. "What!? (Y/n)-" Dylan speaks up, worried, but you cut him off before he can continue. "Don't worry. Ryan will need help, and maybe Nick is seriously injured. It's better to have three people in the forest, remember?"

You walk to him while speaking, finishing with patting his arm, reassuring him. He nods, hesitantly, but understands. You pull him down a bit, and give him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll be safe, I promise."

His face darkens in red, but he looks stronger now. You walk away, trailing behind Ryan, who gives you a surprised look.

After walking for a bit, you both stop, assessing a plan. "Okay, I think it will be easier to find him if we split up. I know it sounds like the worst idea-" he begins, "No. That's perfect. I heard gunshots earlier though, so I think we might run into a person, who is obviously armed." You warn.

"Yeah. But I think Abi said something about an animal too. I think we should keep an eye out for both of that. Maybe you should be the stealthier one, since you have the quieter weapon." Ryan suggests.

"Sounds good." You nod. The two of you split up, him on the main path, you running off-road. After a while of jumping and ducking over and under things, you can see nothing. Looking up, you decide to climb a tree, in hopes of scoping out the area. You grab a branch, and begin scowering the tallest pine before you.

You make sure to stay where the branches are still thick enough, to mask you from any dangers, but still high enough to be able to look around the surrounding area. The moon is full, and perfectly bright, so the night is a bit easier illuminated.

You can see Dylan and the girls, Abi now seemed to calm down, Kaitlyn rubbing her back comfortingly, Dylan staring out into the forest. You scan more, finding that Ryan finally found a now bloodied Nick, and was supporting him.

You breathe out in relief, beginning to step down, when you look up to find Jacob, a gigantic man standing over him, his hand on his face. Your breathe hitches, and you reach to grab your bow, aiming it at the man.

You steady your breathing, pulling the arrow back, focusing on the situation. You're about to release, when the man suddenly begins to walk away from Jacob, leaving him on the ground, some sort of shit on his face.

You lessen your grip, letting the bow relax. You let out a breathe you've been holding, and begin to put the arrow back in the pack you had over your shoulder, when you're suddenly ripped down the tree by your ankle.

Your eyes go wide, and before you know it, your on the ground, the wind knocked out of your lungs. You gasp for air, when a creature lands before you. You furriously kick your legs, desperately trying to back yourself away from the creature, but are met with a sharp pain in your lower back above your hip.

The arrow you had been holding was etched into your skin, and you lift your body slightly to break the head off, leaving it in, and the creature lunges at you.

You kick your legs up, stopping it with your feet on its shoulders, and let out a loud scream. It's teeth snap above you, it's claws grabbing out at you. You kick yourself off of the massive monster above you, rolling back and landing on your feet.

It charges at you again, and you quickly move to the side last minute, and find your bow with a couple arrows scattered around it. Snatching it up quickly, along with your bow, you begin running away, the beast following close behind. It jumps forward, and you duck beneath it, the creature landing before you.

You bring your bow and arrow up, readying it, and release it, watching as it pierces into it's eye. It let's out a blood curdling screech, and quickly retreats. You don't watch it leave, running back to where you left the other arrows.

You collect them all quickly, adrenaline pumping in your veins, the arrowhead lodged in your back long forgotten, as you begin sprinting back to the others.

"(Y/N)!??" You hear your name being called out desperately by everyone, Dylan's voice being most prominent. Abi let's out a scream when you come bursting out of the bushes, scaring and relieving the other Counselors.

"Holy shit, oh thank God, are you okay!?" Jacob asks, letting out a breathe. "You scared the shit out of me, a-are you alright? What happened!?" Dylan speaks, walking up to you.

"I-I'm fine. What the fuck was that-that THING-" You need to take a breather, going to sit down. "HOLY SHIT, YOU'RE BLEEDING!?!" Dylan is quick to look around your body. You suddenly remember the arrow you landed on.

A hot pain shoots through you, coming down slowly from the high you got from fighting off whatever the hell was in those woods. You screw your eyes shut, and turn, lifting your now blood soaked shirt.

You hear Kaitlyn gasp, and look over your shoulder at everyone, their eyes wide. "Is it that bad?" You dryly laugh, wincing a bit. Ryan walks over, inspecting it. "It's not too deep, I think it was just enough to pierce the skin. I don't think it stabbed anything too important though, but it will need some stitches." He concludes, a bit shakily.

"W-we need to get to the lodge, the nurses office with all the m-medical supplies are there" Abi speaks out, and you nod, rising to stand. You wobble a bit, and Dylan is quick to help steady you. He stands over you protectively, wrapping his arm under your arms.

You look up at him, an appreciative smile on your features. He looks down at you with worried eyes. You all begin to walk to the lodge, but Jacob stops.

"Guys- I have to go back for Emma. She's on the island. I can't just leave her." He says. "Okay, where the hell are your clothes? And what the hell is on your face-" "It's blood, and I went swimming." He answers you quickly. "... Cool." You nod, your brows shooting up. "Just uh, be safe. There's some sort of beast out there." You warn him, Abi, Nick and Ryan all nodding with the statement.

Jacob nods, turning and running off. "Okay, we need to really get to the lodge now." Kaitlyn says, getting more and more anxious by the minute. "How? Nick can barely walk, and if (Y/n) puts too much weight on-" "I-I've got (Y/n)." Dylan cuts Ryan off.

"Okay, uhhhm, we can use the wheelbarrow to carry Nick?" Kaitlyn suggests. The idea isn't too bad, and they both hoist Nick up, carefully setting him in the wheelbarrow, Ryan begins to walk him to the lodge, everyone continuing the trek back to the Lodge

"So the crazy bear thing almost got you too?" Dylan asks. "That thing was NOT a fucking bear… and I'm okay. It didn't hurt me too badly, it ripped me out of a tree, and I think I landed on one of my arrows." You answer.

"It attacked me and Nick too. Got Nick really bad before I found him." Ryan tells you. You just now noticed how fucked Nick looks, and your thankful that the creature hadn't gotten you as bad as it got him.

"I-I also saw a guy-" "A guy?" Dylan quips up above you, helping you walk steadily. "Yeah, a really big guy, with a gun… I climbed the tree to get a scope of the area, and I saw him standing over Jacob. I think he rubbed that uh, blood, all over his face." You shiver, now knowing what was really on Jacob.

"Yeah, we saw him too. He shot that weird bear thing." Abi says. "Same here." Ryan confirms. "Maybe he's not as much of a threat as we thought? Maybe he wants to help us?" You suggest, the six of you finally arriving at the lodge.

They nod, now toying with the thought a bit in their heads. You walk up the steps to the entrance, opening the door. "Hello?" Kaitlyn holds the gun firmly, waiting for any indication of life within the lodge.

After a couple moments of silence, you all step inside, beginning to make your way to the infirmary, Kaitlyn still holding the gun, ready to defend you guys from anything.

First you lay Nick out on the table, and you sit on a stool on the other side of the table next to Nick, while everyone looks around for the right tools.

"How you feeling, bud?" You ask Nick. He gives you a tight smile, "Pretty shitty. You?" He replies. You huff out some air, lightly laughing. "Not as bad as you, I'm sure."

The others come back to you guys, and you move to the wall next to the cabinet. Dylan is at your side in an instant, grabbing your hand in his larger one. Ryan drops all the supplies beside you. They get to working on Nick, quickly trying to clean the blood from his clothes and skin, as well as the infected looking wound on his leg.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Dylan asks beside you. You turn to him, nodding slightly. "It stings if I move too much, but it's not as bad as earlier. I don't think I've lost too much blood, thankfully." You lean your head on his chest, a bit exhausted.

He lies his head on yours, humming a bit. "You lied to me. You promised you'd be safe. Lier." He jokes lightly. You chuckle, and tilt your head up to look him in the eye. You notice a couple tears have slipped.

"Hey- hey, look at me." You brush a tear from his cheek, finding yourself in the same situation you were in a while ago, before everything, holding his face in your hands.

"I'm alive. I'm here. And I promise from here on out, I'll be safe. I won't do this to you again, okay?" You reassure him. He lets out a sniffle, "Pinky promise?" He asks shakily. Laughing, you wrap your pinky around his. "Pinky promise."

He smiles now, body relaxing more in your grasp. He slumps against you, resting his head on your shoulder, mindful of your wound as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around his neck, chuckling a bit as he groaned into you.

"Okay, let's get that arrowhead out of you now." Kaitlyn interrupts your little moment, Ryan coughing awkwardly, while Nick and Abi are off in their own world.

You both pull away from eachother, as you nod, sighing.

This was gonna suck.

Part 6

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Love Among Tragedies

Summary: Some say the feeling of love was like your stomach is full of butterflies,but why does it sting?

Paring:Crowley x Death!Reader

Warning: Death,Blood,Gore,Mutilation(hell hounds),till death do us part,angst,family drama,suprise ☆Fluff☆

Tagged: @spnquotebingo

Word Count: 2,770

Fergus was a simple man for the time he was birthed in where poverty was the only way of living if you weren't born into lordship. The year is 1696 he was thirty-five when when he made a deal with a demon that only lasted ten years before his soul was taken. The majority of those years he almost forgotten about said deal that was until he saw her. Her h/c stood out amongst the others even if it matched a few,her s/c smooth skin with a soft glow drew him in,but it seems she was always just out of reach. As Fergus was on his final year the mysterious women grew closer to him her details becoming more clear.

Her aura was breath taking and left those you noticed her in a frozen state of shock. It seemed only few noticed her beauty though as she moved swiftly in crowds as if a shadow in the dark of night. The more he saw of her the hallucinations started the fear and paranoia of snarls and barks in the night the feeling something unearthly hidden in the shadows watching him. The butterflies in his stomach when he saw her makes him choked up everytime he tries to get near, the more Fergus saw her the more the flying insects seems to attack his insides to the point of actually pain. The hounds took him in the night. Red eyed beast of hell ripped him to shreds ripping out his soul taking his life force. Through the bloody haze she stood there looking down at him her clothes a wine red with black accents. The colorless eyes filled in e/c like paint in water as she leaned down to his body the soft stare made him feel like he was suspended within the clouds as her hand, freezing to the touch, brushed his cheek and the sudden pain of it all rushed back to the brunette man as his body tensed up. Her angelic face was right above his bloodied one. "We'll meet again,Fergus." The words were so faint as she leaned down placing a kiss on his lips taking his final breath away. Fergus MacLeod died at forty-five thought to be sacrificed by believers of the dark arts during the witch trails.

Dammed to hell was his eternal punishment it wasn't until almost twelve thousand years in the fiery depths before the corruption of his soul was enough to be promoted to a crossroads demon. The year was 1806 when he first got to feel the dirt of the earth beneath his feet he turned to look at the unfortunate soul that became his first contract. "I want riches that will make the queen herself envious." The women hissed and Crowley leaned back to stir clear for the venom she spewd towards his face. He wanted this deal wrapped up quickly if it ment he left her presence at once. "You have a deal. Let's seal it with a kiss shall we?" They leaned towards eachother and the moment their lips touched it was like something else witnessed them. Someone who sent shivers down his spin like the first chill of winter creeping up as the last leaf has fallen.

Pulling away first his eyes caught the h/c in a proper bun and her dress was of prestige elegance of silk f/c and patterns of gold. Her lips were painted a deep color that complimented her so well. She was just as breath taking as she was when he last layed his sights upon her. Crowley almost cried out in a fit of frustration as the hag left taking along the woman he yearned for since her lips met his. That was only his first deal,but he come to notice she was there for every single one the tingle making his skin feel numb and there she was far from his and the desperate souls touch. After every ten years now the king of hell he watched as the hellhounds bounded towards the maker of the deals and he saw how she was incredibly close to them until she finally touches them on the head or check as the expel their last breath. It was 1979 when she stayed not leaving the body the moment after it's passing she sat on the ground giving a faint whistle. "Who are you? You aren't a reaper or a demon as far as I know." The Scottish demon asked as she gently petted the young pups Juliette and Roman. Her attire has always changed with the ages this decade she wore a skirt right above the knees a solid f/c and a f/c and white striped polo. "I'm something far older then any reaper or demon,Fergus." She hummed not caring for the weight of the two hounds heads on her lap. "Why now after all these years are you speaking to me again?"

Her lifeless e/c eyes looked up into his brown one's as she sighed. "The time has come for the sword of Michael to be sheathed in the soil of a soon to be battle ground of the long awaited spat between heaven and hell." She said feeling the life of the sword due within the month. "You're a angel." Crowley said in shock those winged assholes never left heaven and if they did they were not to be seen. "I was once a angel...but I left my home long ago."

~~~~Flashback Creation~~~~

Five archangels were made by the hands of God birthed from supernovas themselves to make a light so powerful all except one. This child filled a greater purpose then her brothers one that only she could burden making her grace from the black holes and the vast infinity of the unknown he made Y/n. For eons they five siblings grew up and lived within the paradise which was heaven watch as new siblings were made every day. It wasn't until God created man that he knew the youngest archangels true purpose would come into play.

Adam and Eve never grew old in age,but when they disobeyed God and bit from the forbidden fruit of knowledge they were punished and after Eve birthed her sons was Y/n told of what she must do. Cain and Able fought often,but it was nothing like this so aggressive filled with dangerous attacks that's when the archangel stood close by gazing between them taking a deep breath she stepped closes to Able standing behind him as his brother picked up a rock and began to beat his brother. As the life fled his eyes she grabbed his hand as his last breath hissed out. The first death taking his soul to heaven she was stopped at the gates with his soul in hand. "What is the meaning of this father?" She asked and the all father sighed. "He also attempted to kill Cain and with that he must go to hell,dove." This was the first time hell was mentioned after luciferd fall. She nodded her head and dive bombed down he wings breaking the surface taking her to the pits of fire,her brothers prison. Her three sets of gray wings sinnged at the heat tips of most of her feathers blacking while only some still held burning embers. She wanted to cry,but after she left the soul to his punishment she tried to go back to heaven.

"My child you hold within you the grace of heaven whilst you wings carry the embodiment of hell. You mustn't be allowed in either place your job now lies in between both. Until one domain rains you will not belong to either." With those words the heartbreak of loosing her home created a plain unlike any other her pain making the afterlife of monsters from her darkness. Her lost love created the second supernatural monster. Leviathans were birthed from her tragedy. She is the mother of monsters the Angel of Death.

~~~~Flashback End~~~~

"...and I refuse to be involved in that family dispute. I have one job now, take and deliver souls to the gates upstairs or the flames below." Y/n said as she stopped the petting allowing the hellhounds to leave her hold. The demon doesn't understand everyone feared death,but he was so drawn to her even before his passing. She chuckled and Crowley frowned confused. "I can hear every thought you have of me,Fergus." The Scotsmans face flushed red. "Maybe you were one of my favorite souls...maybe someday you'll realize what you're feeling and I might return that feeling. Until then Mr.MacLeod." With his name left her mouth in almost a whisper as she disappeared. So much was happening that the demon could barely process its been almost three hundred years since she he last heard her voice and when he does it's to tell him about the unknown. Crowley didn't know what she meant about his feelings. Although it was peculiar no one wished to be in deaths precise longing for her touch and cold lips to steal their life away.

Four years past til he finally spoke with her again . The birth of Lucifer's vessel and the the darkening of his soul with the blood of a demon. Crowley watched as she stood outside of the burning house the eyes of the oldest Winchester staring through her with lose and hatred. She walked to the remaining Winchester’s her movement smooth as if she wasn't taking steps,but floating. She brushed the small tuffs of hair from the infants forhead and wiped the tears from the child's face. Y/n almost wanted to weep for them she can see every death they'd experience weather it be their own or those they love dying before them. She smiled as them she saw their souls or more what they're souls will become they were just like her brothers,but with a sigh she stepped back the Winchester brothers will grow to hate her like everyone...everyone except one whiskey drinking demon.

"Well hello love." They sat togther in a bar one seat between them as he drunk from a glass while she played with the rim of her's. "Why hello there. What do I owe the pleasure?" She hummed still playing with her mug if ale. "Just thought we could get some alone time since this is one of the few times I see you without a deal involved. I am off the clock after all." He chuckled,but a victorious smile overtook his face as she gave off a soft laugh as well. "Well,darling I a very busy angel. Souls to reap and reapers under my thumb. Never time to rest." She gave a false pout.Crowley was about to say something when a extremely drunk man ran into the counter space between them spouting drunk nonsense. "Just oonnnnee more driiink, daaave. I g*hick* got the cash!~" His words dragged as the king of hell looked at him disgusted about to kill him when the h/c angel lifted her hand motioning for him to stop. She slid the drink she was playing with infront of him just as the bartender sat the same think down it fazing togther as one. "This is you last drink. Then I'm kicking you out." The bartender,Dave, grumbled before walking away the drunk took the mug drank in big gulps. Crowley looked into her lifeless e/c eyes with confusion as the man finished the drink. He stumbled away from the bar top before falling forward his body lurching as he puked in a puddle under him his face submerged in it as he chocked himself with his own vomit. "Death or should I say myself? I always make my course. You killing him would have deprived him of his punishment his...gluttony." She huffed as she reached over towards Crowley swipping his drink finishing it off even though the brown liquid turned to ash on her tounge.

Crowley gazed never faltered from her face. "I think after four years I know what I'm feeling for you. It's love isn't it? No matter how much time has pasted us I long to be with you to feel your touch upon me." He reached out to grab her hand,but a force stopped him. "I'd kill you,Fergus. I'm going to apologize for it now. I'm sorry that you fell for me,but I'm not sorry I fell for you. Though we can't be together. I'm death and until you take your final leave from this earth we can't be together." Y/n's eyes were filled with sorrow as she knew it would be long before they can be together since he's a demon in hell a place she can't enter their only interaction is limited to earth. "We love eachother we've just come to terms with that why can't you just take me sooner then expected,love? Isn't there a why I can be more reckless" She shook her head with a sigh. "It not like the movies nothing with change when you will die and your time in long ways from here. It's truly disheartening when two people love each other and can't make that work...that's a real tragedy." Standing from her stool walking over the man's body that was being treated by emt she stopped in the doorway to look at him this was probably breaking some rule her father had in place. "I suggest you stick close to those Winchester’s they often attract trouble...I won't be far when they're involved." With that she was gone. She didn't tell him that with time being involved with them will kill him,but it was setting him on their course.

Y/n looked at Kelly she was a nice woman and the angel could feel the life in her stomach she brushed her hand on the surface of the tight bulging skin. Feeling the energy her nephew held he kicked as he felt hers in return. The years have been eventful to say the least the archangel was far more busy now that she no longer had her three of her four horsemen now dawning all of the rings since she just didn't trust Billy with the death one yet. She's been watch from the sidelines seeing her brothers torment the Winchester’s as she sat in the distance unable to face them until it was their time. Y/n didn't shed a tear when Lucifer stabbed Gabriel because nothing could hide from death not even her trickster older brother. The Winchester’s have seen her often having died more then once. Then finally the only thing on her mind she thinks about on a daily Crowley today was the day and she was waiting for him. Removing her hand from the pregnant woman's stomach she frowned at what she was about to do,but birthing a nephilim was sure to kill her. The little one in her absorbing in these last few weeks the remainder of her soul leaving her weak. Y/n reached forward and dug her hand into her the woman howled in pain as a painful contraction worse then the others riooled though her body. Starting the process of killing the mother while the child was inside was always difficult especially if the unborn were to live.

The Winchester’s are outside fighting with Lucifer and the h/c archangel appears their seeing the fight Crowly doing a ritual to close the rift. He faces the blonde angel admiring that he would lose,but he will enjoy wiping that smug smile. Y/n appears next to him her hand encasing his over the handle of the blade knowing this would be the think to kill him as they both drive the angel blade into him a smile over coming his face as he looked into those eyes he loved. He died in a sacrifice way to lock up Lucifer not how he saw himself going out as his chest deflated and his body went lack a kiss was press to his lips in a chast kiss.

The woods were dark and almost lifeless,but with the howls and sounds of horror said otherwise. This was the place that held within it monsters. "Hello,darling.Welcome to purgatory. " He turned around and there she was. Her s/c seeming to glow in a soft light that didn't really come from any direction. With slow strids she walked closer to him and without hesitating she pulled him in for a deep passionate kiss filled with want. Crowley was sure that if it could it would kill him again with how it felt,but high off of the feeling her pushed back with equal enthusiasm. Their lives were filled with nothing,but blood,death,and danger. Even with all of the sins of hell and the grief of death...The found Love Among Tragedies.

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A/n: I do love a guy with a accent that's why my lover boy Balthazar is next because I fucking miss him.

@spnquotebingo Quote(in bold slanted blue): "When two people love each other and can't make it work...that's a real tragedy." -Gone Girl

[mctherofdragons]

Little Black Book | D. M.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Genre: FLUFF! 

Request: “could you write a draco x slytherin!reader where they both have a crush on eachother, but they think the other person is into someone else? like draco with pansy or reader with some other character” from the lovely @minty-malfoy <3 

Trigger Warnings: Cussing

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Draco Malfoy furrowed his brow at the cauldron in front of him. He added the last ingredient and watched jubilantly as the ivory smoke spiraled upward. You watched as he leaned forward, taking a small whiff of the potion. He gasped quickly, his cheeks beginning turning a ruddish red. You looked over at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

He hastily placed the lid onto the Amortentia potion with a loud clang. You sighed, feeling a little twinge in your heart. It no doubt smelled like Pansy Parkinson. “Perfect, pretty, put-together Pansy Parkinson,” you thought to yourself. You knew that the reason Draco was flushed was because the familiar scent of broomsticks, cinnamon gum, and cherry lipgloss had invaded his senses. You secretly desired that he had smelled you instead - lavender shampoo, mint, and a touch of morning coffee.

“Does it smell like Potter?,” you jested. Draco glared at you before cracking a smile.

“Careful, y/l/n.”

You gave him a toothy grin, going back to flipping through your textbook. “What does yours smell like?,” he asked curiously, secretly hoping it smelled like apples, hair product, and vanilla. You leaned over the cauldron, gently taking off the cover. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. It felt as though you were bathing in the scent of the boy next to you and you drew back.

“Well?,” Draco asked curiously. You swallowed hard, trying to figure out the best lie to tell in the moment.

“Oh, um, I...it smells like honey...and...grass,” you blurted, turning back around to stare at your book.

Draco felt his heart sink, peaking up at you behind his lashes. You were busy distracting yourself with packing up your bag as he watched you longingly.

“Of course she didn’t smell you, you bloody idiot,” he thought to himself defeatedly, thankful for your professor calling an end to the class.

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That evening, you sat curled up on a green velvet chair in the Sytherin common room. It was always a lucky occasion when the common room was empty. It allowed for time to relax with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to keep you company. You sipped a cup of peppermint tea and absentmindedly flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly. A yawn washed over you, which allowed you to stretch a bit and settle down more comfortably in your chair. You looked up from the article you were reading about a Beauxbatons’ pastry recipe when you heard the door creak open, disturbing the silence.

Draco and Pansy came stumbling into the common room, chuckling about something Draco must have said in the hallway. Pansy giggled, playfully placing a hand on Draco’s chest. You felt as if you were watching the interaction in slow motion, silently longing to be in Pansy’s place. Her blithesome smile made your eyes fill with jealous tears, although you were too prideful to allow them to spill over.

You quickly gathered up your things, polishing off the rest of your tea. You shuffled past the two, ignoring the way Draco’s head turned on a swivel when you brushed his shoulder. Heading out into the hallway, you rushed as quickly as you could back to your dormitory. “Why am I crying over Draco Malfoy?,” you cursed to yourself, feeling relief once the door slammed behind you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes in annoyance. “He’s just a boy. A stupid boy at that.”

Knowing it would make you feel better, you climbed up onto your bed and pulled out your diary. Your method of getting out your frustration was often through writing letters - of course, letters you’d never dream of sending. You had written angry letters to your professors and even inspirational letters to yourself, all of which you burned immediately in the common room fireplace. You flipped to an empty page and grabbed the quill next to you. The words flowed easily now as you let a few tears drip onto the paper. Your sentences had no real beginning or end, nor did your care about making a whole lot of sense.

‘Dear Draco,

I wish I could tell you what you mean to me....that you’re charming, and handsome, and perfect in every way. I want to tell you that I am captivated by your smile, your eyes, and every last inch of you. My potion smelled like you...Did yours smell like Pansy? I’m sure it did. If I had the chance, I’d kiss you right in front of everyone. I know it’s stupid but I really do fancy you, Malfoy. I just wish you’d fancy me back.’

It was written in the same way your thoughts of Draco often graced across your mind - jumbled and disjointed. You closed the tiny black book and placed it into your backpack, reaching over the shut off your bedside light. You snuggled deeper under your soft, wool blankets, secretly thinking of the Slytherin prince as you drifted off to sleep.

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Draco Malfoy sat at his dormitory desk, sipping slowly on a cup of tea. The sweet drink warmed his insides. He was grateful for this as he was often coldest at night. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and continued to write, sighing as he felt all of his pent up emotions ease. He wouldn’t admit it aloud to any of his friends, but he kept a diary. It had always served as a way for him to process the difficult parts of his day, protecting him from having to share too much with other people.

Tonight, he wrote unabashedly about how he felt for you. He wrote about your hair, your eyes, and the way his Amortentia carried your scent. He gushed about dreaming of kissing you for hours and hours, leaving very little to the imagination. After seeing you rush out of the common room, he felt an unwavering sense of dread, thinking perhaps you couldn’t even stand to be around him. Thus, he put down in black and white all of the sickeningly sweet ways he thought of you. It occurred to him that maybe if he spilled his heart out on to the parchment, he could stop being so damned enamored with you.

His eyelids started to become heavy, so he slid the small, raven-colored book into his knapsack. Turning off his lamp, he slid beneath his covers, allowing himself to drift into slumber.

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

Final exams were fast approaching and the entirety of Hogwarts was in a tizzy. Between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, there was far too much information to digest and far too little time to do it. You and several others from your house shared a long table in the library, your papers and manuals spread out in front of you. Reading furiously, you had lost track of the time, along with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.

“Oh bloody hell, we’re going to be late for DADA,” Pansy cussed. She stood up to quickly shove her books into her bag. The remaining three of you jumped up, jostling your belongings into your bags as quickly as possible - which is why neither you nor Draco noticed when two tiny black books got swapped.

You all jogged off down the hallway, your robes flowing behind you as you desperately hoped to not be late to class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time, rushing in through the door just as Snape had begun to speak.

“Nice of you to join us, albeit late. 10 points from Slytherin, each.”

You sulked as you slid into your seat, pulling your parchment and quill out to begin taking notes.

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

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on your bed. You had finally finished reviewing for your classes and figured a much needed break was in order. You got up and padded over to your tea kettle, flicking the water on. Just then, you heard a tiny knock at your door.

Unsure who would be coming to visit you, you walked over and stood on the other side. “Who is it?,” you beckoned, not wanting to open the door for just anyone.

“Malfoy,” the voice on the other end replied. Your stomach did an immediate flip. You opened the door, coming face-to-face with a red faced and anxious looking blonde on the other side. He held up something in his hand and you felt like the floor had just given out under your feet.

“Is this yours?,” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand to give it back. You snatched it quickly. The sound of your heart pounding echoed in your ears. A feeling of dread washed over you and you couldn’t stop your hands from beginning to shake.

“Did you r-read it?,” you choked out. You sent a prayer up to Merlin that the answer would be no.

“Yes.”

You let out a tiny gasp and your lips began to tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, allowing himself to walk in the door. He closed it behind him, reaching out to take your hands. “Don’t be upset. Believe me, it’s alright, y\n,”

You pulled away, turning around in embarrassment. “I’m n-not upset! I’m fucking humiliated,” you sniveled. Draco knew about how much you liked - no, at this point he probably assumed loved - him. He had read the inner workings of your heart. Every thing you had penned about the boy was now knowledge he possessed. You wished you could just dissolve into the floor and disappear forever.

Draco sighed, walking over to your backpack. He reached in and pulled out a different journal. You had no idea that his book had been in your bag the entire time, given that you thought it was yours. He sauntered back over to you, pulling you by the hand to sit down on the bed.

You looked at him confused as he opened the journal. He handed it over to you, allowing you to peruse it. You began to read, your jaw falling slack. “Y-you...is this about Pansy?,” you asked sadly, unable to accept that Draco’s feelings might be mutual. Draco’s cyanic eyes twinkled. He took the diary from your hands, placing it out of the way.

He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, tracing his finger along your jaw. Then, he took a finger and traced it down the bridge of your nose and over your lips. He began to speak, repeating a line from one of his diary entries, “Everything about you is flawless.”

He leaned in slowly, planting a kiss to your lips. In that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked you if fireworks began to burst across the ceiling of your room. You scooted closer, gently placing a hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Your fingers played in the tufts of his platinum blonde hair. You pulled him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, you were very, very grateful for finals week - and those 40 missing points from Slytherin mattered not.

[fandom-puff]

Malfoy!Reader dating Fred Weasley

Requested by: anon

AN: I put the reader as a slytherin bc... malfoys... and at age eleven she wanted to be in the same house as her brother, her dad etc. Also, reader is draco’s twin so their relationship didn’t start when she was too young. Also, this is a bit of an AU, so Fred doesn’t die lol

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing, Lucius and Draco being quite prejudiced, references to sex but no actual getting jiggy with it

You had always thought Fred snd george were funny, and had been rather sad when they left school in your fifth year

Of course, you didn’t let on to Draco, as he would certainly tell mother (he was rather a mummy’s boy, but you couldn’t point that out to him, as he would just tell you that you’re a daddy’s girl)

You spent your summer daydreaming, sitting in the gardens in the manor or gazing out of your window

Your mother was beginning to talk about arranging a marriage for you (she had been in one, as had Aunt Bella, as well as most traditional pure bloods), but you brushed off every suitor she suggested, with increasingly ridiculous excuses

“Oh, honestly, YN, if you carry on like this, mother and father will have to marry you off to blood traitors like the Weasleys,” Draco teased, and you tensed up slightly

“Oh shut it, Draco, at least theyre one of the only pure blooded families that don’t fuck their cousins and force their daughters into arranged marriages,” you huffed, storming off to your bedroom

Several days later, your mother came to your room and asked if you were coming to diagon Alley with her and Draco

You agreed, and while Draco and narcissa were fussing over robes in madam malkin’s shop, you slipped away to check out the brand new Weasley shop

It was wonderful, and you quickly got distracted by all the colours and sounds and displays

That was until a second year bolted past you and caused you to stumble up some steps, but a strong hand grabbed your arm, stopping your fall

“Oi! Watch it- nearly broke this lovely girl’s neck!” He shouted, before leaning down to you. “You alright? Oh. Well if it isn’t Miss Malfoy,” he grinned, without malice.

“Yeah... Draco’s getting his robes fitted and I couldn’t be arsed listening to his whining. I... I really love the shop,” you said bashfully. “Be careful though, Filch will be banning postal orders to the school,” you grinned, and you settled into easy conversation as Fred took you on a tour of the shop

Ron, Harry, hermione and George watched with dropped jaws

Eventually, you had to leave, to stop your mother and brother from getting suspicious

On the train to hogwarts, you sat with Draco and Blaise and Pansy (And you had to stop yourself from gagging at pansy’s simpering)

Draco made a comment on the weasleys finally having a bit of gold yet still wearing their ‘tat’

“Enough, Draco. Money doesn’t define people’s worth” you snapped

“Ugh, don’t tell me you fancy one of them, YN,”

“Ha! Which one, they breed like rabbits!” Palsy chimed in.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you said, and went to go and sit elsewhere

The argument was forgotten w little while later, and a few weeks into term, a small barn owl landed in front of you, dropping a letter, addressed to ‘the loveliest Malfoy’

You hurried off to read the letter, which was an invite from Fred to the three broomsticks on the next hogsmeade weekend and the rest, as they say was history.

Your relationship with Fred remained a secret for several months up until the Christmas holidays, when you returned from Fred’s with a rather impressive love bite just beneath your ear that you hadn’t noticed before you left

Your mother knew something was off instantly- you looked a little more... serene than usual, your hair (which you had left the house in a neat braid) was loose and slightly tousled

Her suspicions were confirmed when at dinner, you tucked your hair behind your ear, and Draco’s fork clattered to the floor.

“Bloody hell, YN!” He said, smirking. “Thought you said you went shopping with Astoria and Pansy!”

You frowned, but then quickly realised, trying to sweep your blonde hair back over the hickey, but your father had stood up from the head of the table and marched over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side.

“Who did this, YN?” He asked, seething at the idea of someone taking advantage of his little girl. “Tell me, YN,”

You gulped and looked away, your father sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will discuss it after dinner in my study,”

Draco smirked deviously, eating quicker so he could get in on the action

“Alone,” Lucius said pointedly.

After dinner, your mother healed the bruise with magic and walked you to Lucius’s study.

The three of you say together in silence for a moment, before your father spoke.

“Was it Zabini?” You shook your head

“Crabbe? Goyle? I swear, I will tear them limb from-“

Narcissa placed a hand on his knee soothingly, turning to you. “Who was it, darling?”

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered, hanging your head. “I-I’m sorry, father. We’ve been seeing eachother for months, writing and... well, I went to see him today. I’m sorry I lied about going shopping, but I knew you’d never let me leave the house if you knew...”

Lucius sighed slightly and narcissa frowned between her husband and her daughter, nodding slowly.

“Right,” Lucius said. “YN. Come. I need to have a word with Arthur Weasley,”

You looked at your mother desperately. “Don’t worry darling,” she murmured, eyes twinkling, and you nodded, following your father to the apparition point

***

“Bloody hell... is that... is that malfoy?”

Ron and Harry ran to the sitting room, where Arthur was reading.

“Dad... you’ll never guess... Lucius malfoy’s coming up the path!”

Arthur sighed and sent the boys upstairs, opening the door

“Lucius,” he greeted, tone a little tense.

Your father’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he gestured to you.

“My daughter revealed something rather surprising to me today, Arthur,” he said and you worried your lip. “She told me that she had been seeing one of your sons behind my back,”

Arthur stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You looked very nervous.

“I... didn’t know Ron was seeing anybody,” he said hesitantly

Lucius was about to speak again, but your cut him off. “No... not Ron, Mr Weasley, sir. Er... I’ve been seeing Fred,”

“I think you’d best come in, both of you. Molly!”

Ten minutes later you were settled at the scrubbed kitchen table, sipping tea in an uncomfortable silence as Lucius and Arthur stared at eachother challengingly.

You looked over at Mrs weasley apologetically and she smiled kindly, reaching over to squeeze your hand to reassure you

“Honestly, two grown men trying to stare eachother down like fourth years!” She huffed, flinging a handful of floo powder into the fire, leaning down to speak into it. “Fred Weasley, you had better come through this fireplace in the next ten seconds!” She called

Pretty soon Fred was stumbling through, grinning

His eyes softened when he saw you and widened when he saw your father

“Er... have a... nice Christmas, Mr Malfoy?” He asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as you mentally facepalmed.

Lucius stood up and drew his wand

You gasped, grabbing his arm. “Dad no!” You cried, looking at him pleadingly as he marched over to Fred, backing him into the wall with his wand at his throat. Arthur’s wand was also drawn while Molly shook her head

“If you ever hurt my daughter,” your father said in a low, silky voice. “If you break her heart, cause her harm or force her to do anything, I will kill you, Weasley. If I hear that you have used, abused or manipulated my little girl, I will personally see to it that you are never seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

Fred nodded, eyes wide

Lucius quickly moved away, putting his wand back into its holder. “Well,” he said. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of,” he offered his hand to Arthur, who (after a hard glare from Mrs weasley) shook it.

Molly then turned to Fred herself and said “if I hear that you hurt YN in any way, it won’t just be Mr Malfoy you’ll have to deal with, Fred Weasley,” she said menacingly, wagging her finger at him.

Fred nodded.

As your parents went outside to discuss a sort of truce, you went to Fred, wrapping your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest.

From outside, your parents saw your loving embrace, your gentle kiss, the way Fred cupped your cheek and pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead gently, molly sighed happily. “He’ll look after her,” she murmured

Both fathers spoke at once

“He’d better.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @kashishwrites @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer

[pacifymebby]

Can’t Stand Me Now // Van

Request: Van and y/n (you can give them a name of you want) have a really bad arguement and they're both upset and frustrated but they go out with the lids and get all close holding hands and stuff as if silently telling eachother they still love eachother and everythings going to be okay.

You looked back at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the tears you were still struggling not to cry. You had that angry flush to your cheeks, wounded expression as you tried to dab at your make up and salvage it.

Your taxi would be here any minute and you didn't have time to reaply the many layers of eye shadow and liner you had already applied once that evening.

You couldn't even remember how the fight had started now, only that you were fucking fuming and bitterly upset with him. He was already waiting outside, having a cig with a sulk on. Just as upset as you were though he wouldn't show it. Hed just sit there leaning against the wall scowling into the dark empty street watching for the taxi that was on its way to pick you up for a night you'd already managed to ruin between you.

You'd both said stupid, horrible things you knew you shouldn't have said. Both cut at each other, spiteful words fired across the landing as you argued back and forth for over an hour, you in tears and him more irate by the second. Despairing cause he didn't know what to do when you got upset like that.

You cried when you were angry see, cried over everything actually, you couldn't help it. And it made it worse when you were arguing with Van because you hated how easily your emotions shone through when his just didn't. He would just scowl, frown, get wound up and walk away. Sometimes he'd slam the back door as he abandoned you for a smoke. But that was as much of his anger or his hurt as you ever got to see.

It made it worse because it made you feel like he didn't even care. When you yelled and lost your temper, when you said stupid shit about how he was never there, about how you were always left alone to deal with the house and the family, you were the one who had to remember all the birthdays and the bills. You were the one left to deal with everything whilst he fucked off on tour around the world. You were stuck at home.

Then he'd remind you why he was always away, why he had to work so hard. He'd get pissed off remind you that this was the dream. And when you were feeling particularly bitter, when the adrenaline was hot in your veins you'd snap back. "Your dream not mine," and hed leave. Unable to argue back, some snide remark as he slammed the door and left.

You hadn't even been arguing about that to begin with, you'd probably only been arguing about the dishes or something petty and meaningless like that, but it had ended in the usual cressendo and now you were left inside alone, desperately trying to fix your appearance before the second argument you'd had resurfaced.

The even more ridiculous one.

"Do we have to do this now?! We're sposed to be meeting the lads in half an hour!"

"If you hadn't wanted to do this now you shouldn't have fucking started it should you!" you'd snapped back, turning away from him, trying to rescue your make up with tissue to your eyes.

"Jesus Christ love how am I the one who started this?"

"Bloody hell Van," you'd cried, "would you leave me alone!"

"How am I meant to leave you alone when we've gotta go out in 15 minutes?"

"I don't know do I just..."

"Well do you even still want to go?"

"What kind of stupid questions that Van obviously I still want to go!"

"Well you don't sound like you wanna go!" he cried back, leaving again to go and look for his phone. "Fuck it am calling and cancelling the taxi this is ridiculous..."

"What?" you cried, sobbing as once again you gave up on the make up. Reaching for a make up wipe instead as you gripped the side of the sink for stability. Your body shaking with the upset of your argument. "Van what are you doing?" you shouted after him only for his voice to come ringing back twice as sharp and twice as agitated as yours.

"Cancelling the bloody taxi what does it look like,"

"Why?" you shouted back, getting more wound up by the second because he was very obviously choosing not to listen to you now.

"Cause you obviously don't wanna go out anymore!"

"Yes i do, you're the one who obviously doesn't want to go out! Don't blame me!" you snapped back, glaring at him over your shoulder though he was already half way down the stairs and out the front door. The slam echoing leaving you to the quiet of your own sobs. Trying to calm down. Splashing your face with water to hide the redness, to calm your bloodshot eyes.

You'd worked yourself up into a right state, red rims around your eyes which you knew weren't going to go down.

You didn't have time to fix your make up and you knew that it would take a miracle to fix the mess you'd made anyway. Foundation would only stick and patch up where the salt from your tears had dried, eye liner and mascara would only highlight the red in your eyes. How wounded and swollen they were.

So you settled for washing your face clean, taking a deep breath and burying your face in the towel as you tried your best to calm down. Tried your best not to think about the fight or let the words you'd snapped at one another repeat and spark your tears again.

"Y/N what're you doing the taxis here!" Van called up the stairs to you, "cmon lass were gonna be late!" be shouted, his own voice calmed now, not quite carefree but certainly not wounded, certainly not upset like yours would be if you replied.

So you didn't reply. Just picked your lip gloss and your mascara and made your way reluctantly downstairs, struggling to pull your heeled ankle boots on by the front door.

Van was leaning up against the door, his cigarette still between his lips, watching you with the most sullen of expressions on his brow as you held onto the door frame and struggled with the zip on your boot.

He reached out to try and stabilise you but you pulled away from him, stubborn and childish, your sulking behaviour getting under his skin.

"Will you look after these?" you mumbled shoving your lip gloss into his open palm, not bothering to wait to see his fist close around them before he shoved them into the pocket of his jacket.

"Where's your coat love youre gonna freeze dressed like.."

"Cmon Van you're making us late!" you cut him off as you climbed into the back of the taxi and shoved your seat belt in. Calling out to Van who was still hovering by the front door debating whether or not to grab one of your jackets off the hook, knowing better when he saw the scowl in your eyes as you called out to him again.

"Van!"

"Aight alright am here," he mumbled, grumbling away to himself as he sat down and did his own belt up, slamming the car door, leaning forward to give the driver some directions to your local.

When he leant back into his seat he didn't relax, turned away from you to stare moodily out the window.

The driver glanced back at you both in the rear view mirror. If he noticed your tension, the wounded look in your eyes as you tried to hold back more tears, the wounded look in Van's as he ground his teeth and kept his gaze strictly on the window, then he pretended not to. Flashing you a grin, one stifled attempt at conversation after another as he asked you about your evening.

"big night out then kids?" he asked though neither of you passed for kids anymore, this driver was at least your dad's age and you let him get away with it, forcing a smile trying to be polite as you waited for Van to answer. Only realising he wasn't going to a moment too late.

"Oh uh, not sure yet," you said, trying your best to keep your smile looking honest. Glancing over at Van to see that he wasnt trying at all.

"There's some decent bars popping up down town just now, or are you off to one of these clubs?"

"Nah just going the pub with a couple of mates," you answered again when Van showed no sign of interest or involvement.

It was unlike him to be so rude, so sullen in the company of strangers. He was usually the first to greet someone with a smile and make conversation. Not tonight apparently.

"Not taking you on a hot date then?" chuckled the driver, trying to tease you clearly oblivious to the silent argument which was raging between the two of you as you kicked Van's foot with yours only to be completely ignored again.

That alone was enough to leave fresh tears brimming in your eyes, hating how it felt when he was cold with you. Hating how lonely you felt then.

"Nah no hot date tonight," you forced a smile, forced half a laugh, let the conversation peter out to nothing leaving the three of you to stew in silence until the car finally pulled up in the town center. It was dark, the buildings all lit up, the early spring chill in the air clouding peoples breath before them.

"Thanks mate," you said as Van slammed the door wordlessly and took out another cigarette. He had a proper face on but you were just as bad and as the car pulled away you couldn't help but take one final swipe at him.

"Jesus Van did you have to be so rude?" you huffed, taking a cigarette from your own pocket, scowling when he offered you his light, barely meeting your gaze or twitching a smile for you.

"Don't owe em an answer when they start giving you the third degree like..." he shrugged, stupid and childish the way he always was when he got into a mood.

"Dont take it out on the driver just cause you're pissed off with me..."

"Am not pissed off..." he started trailing off, looking at you with wounded eyes one second only to change quickly, looking past you with a grin as he saw his mates and began to walk over to them instead.

He'd looked painfully sad and misunderstood then, but only for a second. And the fact he could turn it off so quickly didn't sit right with you at all.

"Alreet sern!!" Larry's voice was loud and it echoed off the walls of the bars nearby. Made you jump as he pulled Van into a hug and then you. "Areet lass you look..." he started before Van coughed and cut him off. Saving you from the questions because he knew that if anyone asked you'd only cry, and that you hated crying in front of anyone, let alone his mates.

"hiya lid," you forced a smile and as Larry wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight you caught Van's eyes over his mates shoulder. Saw it when his lips twitched the softest of smiles, a wink shot in your direction which left you struggling to hold back your own smile.

Even when you were cold and hostile he'd still be there to save you.

Even when he seemed to hate your guts he wouldn't abandon you.

"Reet cmon Lar a need a drunk," he said then, his shoulders still tense, lips still sullen as he turned to the bar, his best friend following him inside. The two of them leaving you to spy the rest of the lads who were gathered around one of the tables under a heat lamp. Jackets round their shoulders, cigs smouldering and pints on the go.

"Areet lass yous gan sit with us or what?" called Bondy when he saw you standing a little way away, ciggie smouldering between your lips as you watched them, not entirely certain you even wanted to be there now that you were standing on your own.

Still Bondy made it easy to flash a smile and when you wandered over he saw the look in your eyes, sensed the sorrow and shuffled up to make room for you.

"Trouble in paradise?" he lowered his voice leaning into your side.

"Aye your mates a cunt," you smirked sadly, your voice quiet, not wanting the others to hear your self pitying tone. Not wanting anyone to notice the remnants of your crying.

"Aye but you love him,"

And though it hurt in that moment you couldn't deny it was true. You did. You adored him.

"Uhuh," you smirked taking a sip of his pint when he offered it. He was drinking Guinness and the froth left a little moustache on your top lip.

"Sexy," he smirked teasing you till you cracked half a smile and tried to lick it away. "You know that's probably why it hurts so much," he said then, voice soft and wise. He always was, despite coming across like he was on drugs most of the time.

"Yeah," you sighed softly, still feeling a little sorry for yourself, soothed however by your friends warm smile.

"it serious?" he asked but you shook your head.

"Can't remember now..." you said shrugging your shoulders, seeing Van and Larry return with Bob in tow, the three of them carrying pints and shots.

You shuffled up when Van came to stand behind you, placing a double vodka down on the table in front of you and some strange looking shot. The kind that looks lethal.

"Thought yous said quiet night down the pub!" grinned Benji when he saw the array of spirits before him.

"When av we ever had a quiet night down the pub Blakes?" smirked Larry but Van didn't join in with their joking, just sat down beside you, looking at you with an intensity, a wounded look in his eyes, waiting for you to turn around, catch his eye. But you didn't. You were grinning along at the lads and their joking around, smirking at bondy who had knocked three shots back like tap water. Barely even shaking his head.

So by the time you did turn around, reaching for your drink which you would drink far too quickly, he was grinning along to one of Larry's jokes and to you it seemed as though he were blissfully unaware.

So you picked up a shot and necked it without asking what it was, screwing your face up because whatever it was it tasted like a lab experiment and it burnt as it went down. Still you felt the heat of it radiate through you and it felt good so you reached for another, smirking at Bondy when he raised his brows.

"These are disgusting," you giggled as you shook your head and winced after swallowing the second. Your laugh enough to draw your boyfriends attention in time to watch you pick up the double vodka, twirling the straw and stirring as you sipped at it with a leisurely sort of urgency.

"Slow down love you'll be on the floor..." he said half a grin half a sulk in his eyes.

"Mind your own," you shrugged back, dismissing him entirely much to the amusement of all your friends.

"Ooo pissy pissy," sniggered Larry and Blakes, Johnny sniggering along with them. Van only half laughing, his own eyes sullen and wounded still.

And that's how the night stretched out. Drink after drink went down easy, but it wasn't easy.

Every time you looked at him your heart ached a little and as the anger began to subside in you you noticed his frustration mellow to sorrow and self pity too.

He looked sad not angry.

You felt sad not angry too.

It was horrible sitting next to him, wanting to hold his hand but second guessing whether that was something he wanted you to do.

Tiring and wanting nothing more than to rest your head against his shoulder, tuck yourself under his arm and share his cigarette.

Usually by now he'd be teasing you, trying to make you blush by winding you up with the rest of the lads, taking the piss out of you, their usual friendly bullying tactics turned on you because you were the easiest to rile. But not tonight.

Tonight he was giving you the cold shoulder and you were hesitant even just to look at him.

You and Van didn't fight very often but when you did this was always how it played out. Sulks and sorrow.

Both of you too stubborn to relent or say sorry first.

So as much as you might have wanted to reach for his hand under the table you didn't. As much as you might have wanted to shuffle close to him and rest your head on his shoulder, you didn't.

Instead you sat stiffly beside him, feeling sorry for yourself as you stirred your third double and chewed your cheek. Listening to Johnny telling some ridiculous, must be made up, story.

"This is bullshit," you giggled, shaking your head at him in disbelief, losing yourself for a second addressing Van for the first time that evening, "Van tell him, this is such a lie!"

For a second he didn't respond, he'd been listening too but when you'd said his name and reached out to tap his shoulder and get his attention you'd shocked him. Suddenly he was uncertain, hed not expected you to talk to him until the morning. In truth you hadn't expected him to talk to you either.

But now you'd broken the silence with a stupid question and hed fallen for it.

"Aye no it is..." he nodded, corroborating Bondys story with a lie of his own, his smile all but set and stoney until your frown had softened, more inclined to believe Van than you had been his mate. But when you settled, when you looked like you believed him he split a grin too and let out a laugh.

"Nah of course it's a lie, the lids talking shite love," he grinned, your own smile slow to form with the shock of how happy he looked, lit up and playful, looking at you.

Like everything was fine. Like he wasn't angry, you hadn't hurt each other. Hadn't been screaming at each other only hours before.

Like there was no reason to be sad or shy.

Your eyes locked as you split a grin, giggling along, remembering where you were, remembering your company and as you bit back a smile you shoved your shoulder into Bondys with a giggle.

"You're a fuckin idiot Bond," you smiled feeling a little more settled than you had a moment before.

And as the conversation settled and Johnny finally gave in, hands in surrender admitting that the whole thing had on fact been made up, he hadn't been arrested for running through toon naked but for a pair of ice hockey shin guards, the rest of the group returned to their game and you settled into listening.

Though you couldn't concentrate anymore.

You couldn't concentrate because all you could feel was Van sitting beside you. The space between you. You couldn't focus on anything else then, tuning into his voice only as he started heckling Larry who was desperately trying to make his way through a ridiculous story you knew to be true.

You kept glancing over at Van, unable to keep your gaze from him for very long, shying away every time you felt you might get caught. Glancing back down at your drink or reaching for a cig instead of braving it and meeting his gaze.

He was gorgeous, even when you were pissed off with him, it was something which had always infuriated you. His contagious smile which always flashed mid argument. The contagious smile which was lighting him up just now.

You couldn't stop looking up at him but every time you felt his eyes on you you felt a teenage shyness and a blush on your cheeks and the longer it dragged out the more stubborn you became, forcing yourself not to look back at him. Eyes burning onto your empty glass of vodka which kept sipping at just to give yourself something to do.

And thats when you felt a foot catch yours under the table.

Just a little knock. Just one.

At first you thought it was accidental, you didn't even think it was him, but when it happened a second time and then a third you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Kicking his boot with yours, biting down a smile as you hid behind your empty glass and felt him kick you back.

And when you felt his hand creep up to yours, the warmth of his touch his fingers grazing over the top of yours, you felt yourself relax a little. A warmth which washed over you.

You glanced back at him and this time he caught your gaze. This time his held yours and you saw the warmth which sparked there between you.

There wasn't an argument that could come between you, not really.

It was in that moment, as his fingers wrapped around yours and you felt him squeeze your hand in his, that you knew everything would be alright. Everything was already right because you had each other and you always would.

"Think youve drunk the last of that," he leant across to you, smirking as he shocked you and pinched the glass from your hand before standing up. Leaving you blushing and looking up at him hesitant to stand and follow him to the bar.

When Bob stood up to help him however you felt a rush of panic in your chest, fearful that the moment you'd been longing for all night was about to be robbed from you and, with a little too much urgency for subtlety you stood sharply and smiled at him.

"It's reet Bob ill go, not got a round in all night like," you said, glancing back at Van as if to ask if that was alright. His grin boyish and full of pride when you took the hand he offered you and climbed over the back of the booth with him to get free of the table.

You stumbled slightly in your heels as you jumped from the empty chair to the floor, and when he caught you with his hands on your waist there was a moment of quiet. A stiffness. An awkwardness between you as he coughed and let you go and you felt lonely once again.

As you followed from behind you let your eyes wander over him, he looked good in his skinny jeans and his black sweater, one he'd owned for years but never seemed to look old on him.

He looked good leaning up against the bar, grinning away as he chatted to the lad behind the bar. One you both knew pretty well these days. He was gesturing to one of the bottles on the optics but you weren't concentrating on what he was saying. You were too wrapped up in your next move. Hesitant to do as you wanted. Hesitant but knowing that if you didn't you'd wander back to the table full of regret.

So you approached him slow and shy but when you reached him you stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the comfort of his jumper and you let your cheek rest against his back and closed your eyes.

You felt him relax too, heard him let out a little laugh as he turned over his shoulder to look back at you.

"Not been back home long she's not quite fed up with me yet," he grinned at the lad behind the bar, "give it another couple days ey," he chuckled as the lad grinned along and turned away to pour the shots he'd ordered.

You smiled softly feeling his whole body relax, his shoulders settling for the first time that night as you placed the lightest of kisses against the back of his neck.

"What was that for?" he chuckled turning around to look down at you, his dimples twitching with an uncertain smile.

"Nothin," you said softly looking up at him a little shy, a smile of your own lingering uncertain too. "Sorry we argued," you said then, about to step away from him when his hand caught yours and his fingers began playing with yours.

"Aye am sorry too love," he said quietly then, not taking his eyes off you as he raised your hand to his lips and placed a kiss to your palm before turning back to the bar.

His hand held yours then and didn't let go as he watched the lad behind the bar begin work on the pints.

His thumb brushed over the centre of your palm and he tugged lightly on your arm, tugging you in close to him so that when he had you by his side he stepped back and trapped you between him and the bar, his arms around your shoulders holding you against him as you waited for your orders to come through.

You felt soft and safe in his arms, your own body relaxing for the first time in a long time, a smile flickering on your lips as he leant down to you and you felt his messy hair tickle your cheek. His lips grazing the skin by your ear as he spoke.

"Love you," he said before leaving a kiss on your cheek. Smiling when you smiled and tilted your head to catch his lips with yours.

"Love you too," you smiled, smiling into the kiss he pulled you in for then, his hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your jaw in a moment of tenderness.

And when you pulled away, his eyes holding yours, you knew that everything would be fine as long as you loved each other.

And you did.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Never meant to be

The first attack was made. So here's my thing @glassartpeasants

Watching (Y/n) has become one of the reasons that kept him on the line... that kept him sane.

His whole word was dark and numb, the only reason he had discovered to see what it meant to be alive was them. They, without even a single word, has reached him how it was to felt alive, to felt like a damn human.

Always he tried to court them by gifts, yet they weren't really interested. Sure, such an angel wasn't suppose to felt attached to such a sin that it was greed... he should have thought about that. That was the problem.

No man alive dared to step one foot closer to you... or else he would teach them a lesson.

You. Belonged. To him. Ever since he layed his eyes on you. You were his.

..it's just you that didn't know it yet.

Such a simple task. His love for you was evident... yet, someone was trying to take you away from him.

Chrono didn't loved you enough, didn't loved you like the way he did.... although he wasn't a foul, he knew how you acted around him.

He tried. God, how much he tried to put into his head that it wasn't anything serious, that it was just his childhood friend making sure you were safe for him...

Yet... he wasn't delusional. He wasn't a foul.

The moment it came to his ears that you and him had grew found of eachother, his world seemed to fall apart. The colors from his vision drew out... he felt completely betrayed, hurt, anger... He destroyed ever part of his office, rearranged his room to put soundproof on the walls just so he could scream and shout all the profanities, curses towards his friend to had let that happen.

It was years since he hadn't felt like this... oh how he wished to just torture Kurono. For stealing the only reason of his living like that... and so out of the blue.

Yet he couldn't... He couldn't bare to see your face if you discovered the truth behind his friend's death, he couldn't bare to just see your beautiful and angelic face painted with sadness...

So he didn't do anything. He could just pray to God that this relationship didn't last long, despite on how selfish was the wish... he even dared to beg for whoever was up above....

But since when someone listened to him? Not his biological parents, not Pops... nobody.

He almost punched Kurono when the man himself had the audacity to comment on the work that you two decided to marry on the civil since that... you were carrying his child.

He felt completely defeated, disgusted... but he was forced to see the child of the woman he loved with his best friend, 'why?' you must wonder?

Because you asked. She asked him to meet her son with Hari.

He could never deny her...

He didn't stayed long. Looking at that baby, that disgusting baby hurted him. Destroyed him.... broke him...

How could a man tolerate something like this on his life?

After a few months, he decided to burry himself into the yakusa. He blamed you and Kurono; if he hadn't fell for you, he wouldn't be feeling this numb... this empty.

He couldn't remember how it happened... but he did remember it was on a rainy day.

Never think "things can't get worse then already was".... because they can. Life doesn't give you lemons after all, it punchs you in the face and kicks you into unconscious until they're satisfied.

He was running after Mimic went to him, speaking that something went wrong in a mission and as he ran on the rain he found the sign of his childhood friend... his lifeless body with a bullet craved into his forehead and blood slidding down his forehead along with the drops of the water that fell from the sky.

"Chrono..!" He couldn't bring someone back to life... his quirk was powerful but not one of that kind... he lost his childhood friend... the boy who grew up with him... the one he even dared to consider as a brother.

He suddenly widened his eyes in horror and ran towards the trail of blood that certainly wasn't of Chrono... leading to his dear (Y/n).. eyes closed and completely beaten up...

"No no NO NO-!" He went to the ground, not mindfull of his mysophobia as he got your body on his arms and checked for pulse... it was so hard to find it by the way his hands trembled, but he found it "You're breathing..." he sighed in relief and went to use his quirk before he felt you bruised and bloody hand resting on his naked wrist.

"N-no... don't..." you coughed up as he almost lost his mind.

"YOU'RE GOING TO DIE YOU IDIOT!" He shouted, grabbing onto your shoulders as your vision slowly started to fade "(Y/N) DONT CLOSE YOUR EYES! DONT YOU FUCKING DARE TO CLOSE YOUR EYES-!"

"P-please... i-I-" you extended your hand towards Chrono, the action making ylhis heart break as he stared at you "H-Hari... put me... next t-to... to him..."

"LISTEN TO ME!" He shouted desperately as tears gathered on his golden eyes as hives started to appear "YOU CAN'T JUST DIE DAMMIT! DONT LEAVE THIS WORLD-!...don't l-leave me-!" He cried as you managed to open your eyes just to speak your finals words... the ones he so desperately wished you hadn't...

"P-Please... K-Kai... take-take... take care of my... daughter..." he widened his eyes at that... out of everything you could have asked...

"I can't.. ask me anything but this-"

"Please..."

Were your last words as your head fell on his hand... he tried to use his quirk. He tried despite knowing you wouldn't want to... yet he couldn't. He failed... he failed on everything...

He failed on protecting the one he loved the most.

.

.

Years passed by... and the loss tormented him... every single day. It was there a reminder after all.

With those (E/c) eyes and white hair.. strands shaped on little arrows.

.

.

"You sure?" The girl muttered up to her guardian as he only sighed and mentioned to the chair once again. She went and crawled to the chair on the dark room.

"The world will be cured this way then?" The girl mused as the masked man put the hand cuffs on her wrists as she looked up to those emotionless golden eyes "With my quirk everything will be normal again, right? Uncle?"

He shivered in disgust and anger at the title... bit when he looked at those (E/c) and how much this girl reminded him of you... he manage to control himself and let out a sigh.

"Exactly. With my plan and this method I created, the hero sickness will dissapear... once and for all."

The girl opened a smile amd nodded.

"Okay! It's what my mom would like! Right?" She asked with hopefully eyes as he stared back at her with grief as he nodded.

"You remind me way too much of her... maybe that's why you dont see the problem on helping me... with your blood and Eri's... I will create the perfect product." He looked at the bullets and stared at Aiko.

"I do?"

He felt a burn in his eyes, one he hadn't felt on years even...

"Yeah." He snatched one of his gloves out of his hands "You do."

[anna-pixie]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Han Solo x reader where you’re so similar the two of you keep arguing and challenging each other just for fun, only to realize that you’re actually really good friends and possibly love each other. Thanks

this is my first ever request so it’s not perfect!! i hope it’s close enough to what you wanted!! thank you for requesting <3

Request: Han Solo x reader where you’re so similar the two of you keep arguing and challenging each other just for fun, only to realize that you’re actually really good friends and possibly love each other

Pairing: Han Solo x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing (?)

*

"Over my dead body.”

“Han…”

“Shut it, baby-face.” Han spits the insult, crossing his arms tightly and looking down his nose. 

Chewie makes a noise to indicate he finds this situation hilarious, as you stand next to a now very angry Luke Skywalker. 

“Look, you refuse to work with Leia. I get that, it would be awkward. But you can’t do this alone, you need her with you.”

Then Han turns, finally taking a good look at you. His eyes travel slowly from your boots to your head, and his lip juts out in what seems to be approval. You frown. 

“That wasn’t an invitation for you to ogle me, you creep.”

“Y/N…” Luke warns, and you huff, backing down. 

Han glares at you, obviously surprised that you spoke to him like that. You glare back, and once realising Luke is busy talking to Chewie, you stick your tongue out at him. 

“I’m not working with her.” Han finally breaks, stomping over towards his friends in the cockpit, “She stuck her tongue out at me.” He points over at you and you snicker at how pathetic he sounds. 

“Chewie. You’d better deal with this. Please?” Luke storms away in exasperation. You have to hand it to him, he knows how to keep his emotions in check. 

Sighing, you approach the infamous Han Solo who leans against the door of the cockpit. 

“Listen, I don’t want to do this. You don’t want to do this. But Luke needs us, so we’d better suck it up and deal with it.”

Han chews the inside of his mouth, exchanging a glance with Chewie before he seems to reach a decision, “Alright, but I ain’t happy about it.”

And so began an incredibly successful, incredibly frustrating partnership. 

The rebels needed something from a far off, ultra-secured planet? You and Han could get it. Han was, of course, an experienced smuggler - he could sneak anything in and out of these planets. You were his eyes and ears. 

Your parents died young, and with nowhere left to go, you were taken in by some not so great people. You were raised to steal, to pickpocket, and to take down anyone who tried to stop you. 

You made a good team - with one exception. You fucking hated eachother. 

Well, that’s what you tell yourself. You try to ignore the lingering glances between the two of you, the way you flush every time he walks into the room. The other day, when he placed his hand on your waist to squeeze past you. You didn’t like it. That’s what you’ve been repeating to yourself. 

You didn’t want to admit to yourself that the reason you clash is because you’re so similar. Why on tatooine would you want to be similar to him?

*

“Fuck, FUCK!” Han takes his anger out on the interior of the falcon as the two of you collapse into the ship, Chewie speeding away with a distressed groan as he realises you are being chased, “You fucking idiot!”

He yells once more and you try to focus on your anger, instead of the wound on your side that is now seeping with blood. You don’t dare say anything to Han about it, you don’t want to give him any more ammunition against you when you report back to base. How had this gone so wrong?

“Me? Me!” Your voice is strained as you try to argue back, steadying yourself with one hand against the wall, “I’m not the one who used their blaster and let every-fucking-body know where we were.”

Han chuckles darkly, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his bloody hand, “Well I’m not the one who lead us down the wrong hallway and let us get caught. You could’ve gotten us killed, Y/N!” 

You try to respond, but you’re too busy trying to focus your blurry vision on the fuming man in front of you. He grunts, taking your silence as attitude, and bounds over to the cockpit to speak to his best friend. 

He helps Chewie successfully navigate away from the ships chasing us, sliding down the wall and leaning his head against the wall with an exasperated groan. 

You stumble towards the seating area, hoping that once you sit down and put pressure on your wound, you’ll be good as new. Ha, you know better than that. Before you can reach the seat, you stumble over your own feet and collapse, screaming in pain as you hit the floor. Han looks up from where he’s sitting, initially unbothered. 

“There she goes again, little miss liability.” He chuckles to himself, waiting for one of your snarky replies that he secretly loves. He frowns once he realises you’re not going to say anything, only then noticing the blood pooling around you. 

“Y/N? Y/N?! Fuck! Chewie, fuck!” He runs over to you, turning you over so that he can survey the damage. His breath quickens as he sees the deep wound, blood spurting quickly. He applies pressure, his warm hands drowning in blood as he desperately screams for Chewie to get them back to Luke. 

You start to fade out of consciousness as Han slaps your face, not letting you go to sleep. 

“Y/N, don’t you dare fall asleep on me, you hear me?” He shrugs his jacket off quickly, balling it up against your side as he continues to ramble, “Why didn’t you tell me? Oh God, Y/N, I’m not gonna let you die! Who else will put me in my place if you’re not here. You’re the only one who laughs at my jokes, you can’t go. Fuck, fuck!”

That’s the last thing you remember before everything goes black, a euphoric feeling washing over you.

*

You wake with a start, peeling your eyes open quickly and looking around frantically. You squeal as the pain in your side makes itself known, and look down, realising you’re all bandaged up. 

“Fancy seein’ you here.” You hear the familiar drawl of Han Solo and snap your eyes to the side of your bed where he sits, slumped on a chair. He’s smiling, a strange expression that you don’t usually see directed towards yourself. 

“W…” You attempt to speak but fall into a coughing fit, Han hurriedly passing you a cup of water. You drink quickly but scrunch your nose. It’s lukewarm. “What happened?” You finally get out. 

“You got hit with one of the blasters. And you decided it was a smart move to keep it a secret, nice goin’.” He rolls his eyes. You chuckle awkwardly, not used to speaking to him so… so civilly. 

“Heh… my bad.”

“Listen, Y/N. I know we have this thing. I don’t like you, you don’t like me. But does it really go that deep that you can’t fuckin’ tell me that you’ve been shot? You could’ve died and it would’ve been my fault.”

“So you admit it?”

“Huh?”

“It was your fault.” You giggle, Han rolling his eyes with a small smile. 

“Listen. I need to be serious for a sec.”

“Wow, Han Solo being serious? Maybe I am dead.”

“Y/N… don’t joke about that.” His voice shakes slightly and your brows furrow, wondering why he’s so worked up. Sure, you almost died, but in your line of work these things happen every day. 

“Sorry, sorry. What’s going on, Han?”

“We’re desensitized, you know? I watch people die every day and I don’t care. But when you were lying there, dying in my arms…Y/N… I wanted to trade places with you.”

“What are you trying to say…?” Your heart is racing now, your mind wandering to what he could possibly mean. No. You can’t get your hopes up. 

And then his lips are on yours. He leans over the bed, one hand resting on your jaw to hold you in place. He draws back ever so slightly, his lips hovering over yours. 

“That’s what I’m trying to say.” 

You chuckle, closing the gap between your lips again, savouring the taste of his mouth. He explores your mouth, making the most of the moment before someone comes to interrupt. 

“Another thing I’m better at.” You pull back again, your voice soft. 

“Hm?” He is too focused on continuing to kiss you to pay attention to your words.

“I’m better at kissing, too.” Han, surprise surprise, rolls his eyes once more, gripping your face tightly with both hands. 

“Shut,” His speech is broken up, him kissing you between every word, “The,” Kiss, “Fuck,” Kiss, “Up,” Kiss. 

You fall into a fit of giggles as he continues to kiss you, only stopping when you realise you’re not alone in the room. 

“I told you, Chewie.” Luke’s voice startles the two of you, causing you to bump heads lightly. You look to where Luke and Chewie are standing by the door, Luke holding his hand towards the big fur ball expectantly. 

Chewie lets out a noise of glee and fist bumps Luke, the two laughing at the glare Han sends their way. 

“Now if you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of something here.”

[iamashamedofmyships]

Random wholesome(?) Doctorcest Twee ideas

Second and Third have for some unexplainable reason, been stuck in the same timezone together and have now been travling for a while to find a way out. Just imagine this cute scinerio: The two of them are sitting by the fire after an exhausting day of running away from danger. Two is as always, playing soft tunes on his recorder. Three starts reccognizing the melody and starts humming along with it. Within minutes though it quickly esculates to Third straight out standing up and singing passionately to “I don’t want to set the world on fire” with Two in the background so shocked to see this side of him that he can bearley keep up with his playing and stumbles on some of the notes. Bonus: After all this Second feels how extremly warm his face has gotten, probably because of how cold its starting to get this late. Not because he adores Thirds singing voice and smile and wishes that this could happen more often pffffftttt–

Another time in one of their travels Third hides Second with his cloak from a bunch of aliens with worsened eyesight; pretty much exactly like he did with Zoe. Only difference being that Second picks up much more of a fight for being “treated like a child”.

Despite of Twos protests: Third manage to convince him to get a makeover “just this once”. While the older incarnation is brushing his hair and powdering his face etc. etc. It surprisingly creates a really calm atmosphere around them. Even though they both don’t say anything for while; eventually they start mumbling small talk to each other that turns into a very deep conversation about lots of misunderstandings they had about each other. At that, Third finally without really thinking much about the consequenses tells calmly but in a clearly hurt tone all the suffering he had to go through while force regenerating. Two listens Intensely and tries to stutter an appology for how his actions caused so much pain for him but the older only hushes him and shortly after as if it was on queue is finally finished with Twos new look. “You never had the intension to hurt anybody, we both know that. Don’t appologize for something that you thought was the right thing to do.”

A continuation of last promt: Things could get more angsty by Second checking himself out and not liking the look because it reminds him too much of Salamander. ORRRR since these are fluffy prompts… Second looks himself in the mirror and is so surprised how good he actually looks that he cant help but giddily laugh in delight as he poses like a dork for the mirror. While Three tries to not make a big deal out of the Shorter incarnations amazement with his work; he is put completely off guard when Two takes both of his hands and frantacly asks “how [he] bloody managed [it]?!”. One can’t help notice how adore– UHM– noticably nice this cosmic Hobo could be.

Second helps Third up from a hole they fell in and Third notices just how stubby and small the others hands are. He can’t help but think sometimes just how terrifying regeneration is; the individuals are just so different yet in so many ways the same. What Three has forgotten though is that he’d been staring at the younger mans hands for almost a whole minute. Looking flustered and uncomfortable as ever; Second tries to as casually as possible wake Three from his trans by snatching his hand away. “Ah– if you wanted to hold hands Dandy you could’ve just asked–” “Oh, be quiet Scarecrow.”

This is more drama than fluff and is going to be a bit longer so get ready: Another time on one of their adventures the Timelords are forced to walk over a frozen lake. Each step they take (no matter how carefull they are) gives a cracking sound from the ice. The Doctors, extremely uneasy about their situation, stay in close range to each other (and if you want to make it extra fluffy: eventually & begrudgingly hold eachothers hands). When they start reaching the shore, Third decides to (*let go of the others hand and*) pick up his pace to get off the frozen water as quickly as possible. Without thinking though, leaving the far slower Second Doctor alone on the ice. Eventually realizing this, Two shouts after the Dandy and tries desperately to catch up with him but... before he can even make a meter the ground underneath him crumples beneath his feet, plummeting loudly into the ice-cold water. "SCARECROW!!!!" Is the only sound that echoes throughout the snowy forest as a whole new burst of energy and determination fills the older Timelord as he sprints out on towards the now broken spot on the lake. Logic didnt make sense at that very moment, the chance of him falling in too didnt matter, all that was important to the Timelord right now was "Get him out. For the love of everything that is Holy, just-- GET. HIM. OUT." And that... is exactly what he did; after diving into the icy blackness everything seemed to be happening at the same time. Diving straight downwards despite the pressure towards his lungs and ears, locking his arms protectively around the small frame, out of the water, carrying the unconscious body despite his knees ugly protest, CPR, then... blurry memories that didnt seem to matter.

And a continuation of this (I will try to make it shorter): Second wakes up infront of a small fire with both his coat jacket (and bowtie) removed to (what Three explain later) go dry off. Even though his memories are faded Two gets the general idea of what happened a few hours ago. "I fell through the Ice, didn’t I..?" "...... Yes... you did." Now this would be a moment where there would probably be some Squabbling. Because Third would describe how terrified he was that he was going to loose Second and Two arguing back that it was a bad idea from the beginning to walk over the ice BUT... AGAIN, these are fluffy ideas and last promt already became pretty angsty so lets skip that for the moment: After their argument Third looks down on the ground and mumbles "I care about you, don't you understand that?" "What--?" "Don't act so surprised Scarec- Doctor... After all this time we've spent together it would only make sense that I've started to get used to your annoying antics--" Third smirks as Second furrows his brows about to protest. "There wouldn’t really be any other way than to maybe call us... Friends?"

I'll reblog if I come up with more :P

[soliloqueenie]

Crawling out of my isolation hole to take a risk here theydies and gents

I’ve been writing a lot of things and I decided I want to share!  Kind of afraid of posting fanfic but this is just a drabble about one of my current DnD PCs.  She’s a gnome druid but not yet a druid here.  If you read please feel free to leave me feedback! 

---

“Got one!”

Brea’s voices comes from somewhere above, and Bits knows better than to try and find her, so she stops, sits on a root, and waits.  And then maybe 15 seconds later Brea comes crashing through the canopy in a tangle of snapped twigs and swirling greenery and lands almost catlike on her feet. She holds out a canvas drawstring bag, and Bits watches as something inside squirms desperately.

“Hey!” Bits rushes forward and pulls the bag out of Brea’s hands.  “You can’t just shove them in a sack, did you miss the whole endangered and jumpy part?” She reaches in and then immediately pulls her hand out again when the creature inside bites her finger viciously.  

“Ouch!” Bits closes the top of the sack and shoots Brea a withering look.  “Now she’s mad.”  She sucks on the end of her finger, looking around for witch hazel, or maybe goldenseal.

Brea rolls her eyes and takes the still-squirming bag of angry lemur back from her.  “And that’s my fault?”

“It’s not not your fault.”

“Mmm, I’m not the one that shoved my own gloveless hand into a bag containing a clearly frightened animal, though.”

“W-” Bits wheels on her for a moment, and then softens. “Kay.  Fair.”  She puts her hands on her hips and turns around, looking again.  Probably not a good idea to leave a wild animal bite untreated.  It doesn’t take too long for her to find what she’s looking for.  Brea sits next to her and holds her hand, pouring some water over the bite as Bits forces herself through the ordeal of chewing bark to treat the wound.  It’s a nasty, acrid flavor, but it cleans almost as well as alcohol, so it’s worth using if it’s readily available.  When Brea turns and laughs at the face she’s making Bits scrunches her nose at her and bumps their foreheads together.

“I should have made you do this,” she says as she spits her little mouthful of bark onto her finger and starts to press gently.  “Gods, that tastes awful.”

Brea kisses her cheek and starts to rummage in her pouch.  “I wouldn’t get to laugh at your icky-taste face, then, sorry.”

The bite stings at the touch of the herbal paste.  Bits grimaces at the feeling, ignoring Brea for now.  When she wipes the stinging paste off of her finger, the halfling is there immediately, washing it off with water again and then wrapping a thin strip of linen around her finger.  She hands Bits her waterskin when she’s done and Bits does her best to wash the harsh taste of goldenseal out of her mouth.  

“Okay,” Bits sighs and turns her attention back to the writhing back on the ground.  “Now to deal with you.”

Carefully this time, Bits slowly opens the drawstring and lowers in a twig.  Her plan works, and the creature inside promptly bites the twig and then, distracted, lets itself be lifted gently out of the bag by the scruff of its neck.  Save for the way the little thing is scrabbling furiously at the twig still in its mouth, what comes next is routine for the two of them.  Bits twists the lemur back and forth, rattling off a short list of measurements and observations, and Brea scribes diligently. When they’re done, Brea dips her fingers in a little pot of dye and gingerly leaves a dark black line down the creature’s back to mark it as already recorded.

With an affectionate pat on its head, Bits walks a few steps away to release their catch back into the brush.

“How many is that, today?”

The lemur scuttles through the underbrush and up a tree a stone’s throw away.  Bits watches it until it runs behind too many layers of green to keep track of where it’s going.  When it’s gone she turns back to Brea, flexing the hand with the bloodied finger to see how it feels.  “Um…eight? Nine? I don’t remember.”

Brea flips back a few pages in her notebook.  “Eleven!” She sets the notebook aside and scoots down to sit on the ground, leaning back against the large root they had both been sitting on to evaluate their catch. “That’s enough, right?  This morning you said ten.”

She can see where this is going already, but decides after a moment that she’s okay with being convinced, so she sits next to Brea on the ground.  “It’s barely afternoon, though…” she trails off, leaning back to look around at the woods around them.  “We have time.”  Bits pats Brea’s leg for a moment and closes her eyes to listen.  Forest-music is her favorite sound.  These woods are different from home, just like they all are, but there are always the same things to listen for.  The whistle of wind and rustle of swinging vines layered under the gentle murmur of the creek they’d passed a few minutes before.  The twinkle of birdsong and here, the occasional whoop of a monkey’s call.  Different pitches and tempo than home, but…..different variations on the same theme, Bits thinks.  Not so different it isn’t familiar.

She listens until she feels Brea sling her legs over Bits’ lap and bump her nose against her cheek. “Time for…?”  Bits opens her eyes just enough to shoot her a suspicious look.

“For lemurs, Brea. What we’re here for.”

“Or,” Brea slings her arms around Bits’ neck and leans back to shoot her a cheeky grin. “Climbing lessons!”

“What?”

“I distinctly remember someone saying she wished she could get around up there like I do.”  Bits tries not to smile when Brea pulls her to her feet. “I mean you’ll never be as fast as me but you can barely scale a tree at all as is so.”  She pecks her cheek. “Things can really only get better from here.”

“I resent that.  I can so climb a tree.”

The ranger eyes the wide, ancient trunk of the tree nearest them and pulls Bits closer.  “Sure, sorry.” She kisses the tip of her nose. “Cutie.” And then before Bits has time to react Brea is gone, 7 feet up the tree in no time.  “See ya at the top!”

“Hey!”  Bits rushes after her.  They’re both kind of right, as it turns out.  She’s a decent climber, but Brea is way ahead of her, and takes her time as she goes to look back and check on the gnome clambering up after her. She stops to drape herself over branches every now and then to tease, and to point out good handholds, and it looks maddeningly easy for her. As she climbs Bits wonders what it would be like to be so graceful, like that.  Brea looks like she could flit tree to tree like a squirrel and look just as natural doing it.  Bits loses track of her for a bit, distracted by the increasingly herculean effort of levering herself up and over branch after branch, and then yelps when Brea seems to snatch her out of thin air.

The Halfling pulls her onto a particularly large branch and holds her waist until Bits can catch her balance and settle herself.  They’re facing eachother, Bits with the trunk of the tree at her back and Brea just a little farther out on the branch sporting a big grin.  “Not so bad!  You’re a good climber.”  Brea’s hands move to her elbows, squeezing a little.  “I’m just fantastic.”  Bits searches her face for any sign of condescension, but she finds only adoration, a realization that makes her blush.  She feels a little dizzy, and she’s really not sure if it’s the height or the….Brea.  Maybe both?

Brea scoots closer and brushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear.  “Can I kiss you?”

Gulp. “Uhh…up here?”

“Yep.”

“Um, was this the plan?”

“…Yep.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Another grin. “Yep.”

Bits looks down at the ground and finds she doesn’t actually mind the height so much.  It’s kind of exhilarating, actually.  She has a weird urge to try leaping across the sky like Brea does, but she’s pretty sure she’s not ready for that, yet.  Maybe with more climbing lessons.

She considers for a moment.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Bits forgets about lemurs for a little while.

---

It’s years before Bits finally knows what climbing must have been like for her.  Years, and a lot of still too-fresh pain, and many too-long months of lonely solo travel and it takes her somehow learning to turn into a squirrel.  She’s with new people, and they’re kind of weird and sometimes confusing, and she’s not sure if she likes them because she actually likes them or because she’s so lonely, but somehow, with Artio’s help she turns into a wolf. And then the next day, a squirrel. And spends an hour following along with her friends (?) from dozens of feet above, leaping and soaring from tree to tree.  It’s so much better than she could have even expected.  Bits feels like a wild thing, like not even the wind could catch her if leaps fast enough.

But even though this new power is fascinating and exciting, and she’s fresh off the victory of helping to really, tangibly save the forest they’re walking through, and even though the last few days have been stressful but honestly pleasant, given the company…when she’s back on the ground?  With her normal, non-soaring gnome feet carrying her the rest of the way?

All she can think about is how much she wants to tell Brea about it.

[akaspiderman]

fwooper

pairing: theseus scamander x female!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: blood

plot: Theseus can’t get one of Newts assistant out of his head.

A/N: i have one more harry potter related story after this

“Why are you here again Theseus?” Newt asks, leading his older brother into his apartment.

“Suppose to check up on your animals that’s all, see if anything illegal is happening,” Theseus answers with a smile.

Newt shoots him a weird look as they walk down the stairs into the basement. “Isn’t that a job for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? Not an auror?”

“I just wanted to visit my little brother, is that so wrong?”

Newt rummages around on a shelf before grabbing a small vile. “Well, if you want to see me that usually means maybe once or twice a month, not three times a week for two weeks. Right, I’ve got to go take care of an occamy, poor thing injured itself. Don’t break anything,” he says, as he heads out of Theseus’s sight.

Theseus looks around his brothers basement, it was most definitely filled with life. There were noise that filled the air and each direction he looked had a unique biome to cater for his creatures. But the only thing he was interested in was (y/n). She was hired to work with Newt a month ago and when Theseus decided to visit Newt a few weeks ago he was absolutely smitten. There was something about her, he couldn’t place a finger on it. She had Theseus’s attention from the start, despite being in a basement filled with exotic creatures.

“Oh, hey Theseus!” (y/n) says, a bright pink fwooper on her shoulder as she walks towards him, “Newt said you came, told me to watch you.” (y/n) brushes past him, taking a seat in top of the table, placing the fwooper on a wooden perch. She sits there dangling her feet off the edge, looking curiously at Theseus.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one supposed to look over Newt, not him looking after me,” Theseus chuckles, but there was a slight tint of nervousness that was unusual for him. Every time he meets (y/n), he gets more drawn into her, he notices the little things like how she always leans to the right and how she uses her hands when she gets excited.

(y/n) smiles at him, “Well, I think it’s loevely how you guys care about eachother in that way, always checking up on one another. Anyways,I was walking home yesterday and I passed by a park, then there was this cutest couple ever. They were having a picnic underneath the stars and the guy ends up proposing. I don’t even know those people but it was so cute!” She was waving her arms around towards the end, she was thrilled to witness that.

“That does seem adorable,” Theseus answers,”I really hope to do something like that one day.”

“Me too, I want to experience that type of love. The love that’s written in novels type, where everything just clicks into place and how their entire world changes because they found this new love and-“ she gets distracted by Theseus’s grin that seemed like he was about to burst into laughter, it was too big. “I sound crazy don’t I? Probably will end up alone forever,” she shrugs, turning towards the fwooper. Heat rose to her cheeks, she probably sounded so desperate and dramatic.

“Oh no, I totally know what you mean. That I’ll swipe you off your feet type of love,” Theseus reassures her. She wasn’t looking at him. She was stroking the fluffy feathers. “I’m sure you’ll find someone, you’re too charming and gorgeous to never find anyone.”

This catches her off guard, that last part. Her eyes devert from the fwooper back to Theseus. He was of course hinting that he should be the someone she finds, but she doesn’t know. What she knows is that Theseus Scamander complimented her. The Theseus Scamander. The one who all the girls swoon for since Hogwarts. The one girls still swoon for. Heck, she didn’t even think she would ever be friends with him but here she was. “Really? You think so?”

“Of course, you’re just so-“

“Bloody hell!” (y/n) cuts him off, the fwooper she lets her eyes off seems to attack her finger. The bite was deeper than people would assume and it throbs giving out pain she couldn’t describe.

“Are you okay? Jesus, that’s a stupid question let me help,” Theseus says.

“No, it’s fine. Let me just get any wand, Newt probably has a serum somewhere. Oh that’s a lot of blood,” (y/n) glances down. It was indeed, a lot.

Theseus grabs her hand that she was awkwardly holding out, trying not to drip blood on anything. He uses one hand to support it, while the other is holding a wand he pulled from his coat. “Episky,” the cut closed, “Tergeo,” the blood washes away from both of their hands.

Both of their hands. They were holding hands. Theseus who is always clam and collective could feel butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t want to pull away, he wanted to hold her hand forever if that’s possible. (y/n) was awfully bashful all of a sudden, her hand was placed into his. Maybe it would be cheesy to say sparks fly the second their hands touched, but that’s what it felt like. It felt like that their hands were made to hold one another. It felt right.

“I meant it when I said you were too good to be alone,” Theseus says gently. He decides to take it up a notch but interlocking his fingers with hers, properly holding hands now.

This was something she did not expect at all. Theseus Scamander might like her? Her, as in a assistant, not some fancy auror or famous witch. Just plain old (y/n). But all the signs point to the fact that he most definitely likes her, he was holding her hand and looking at her like she was the amazing person. She could almost laugh and tell Newt good prank. “Are you joking?” (y/n) says, it comes off a bit more rude and harsher then she expected.

Theseus was startled by the response, but she wasn’t pulling out of their entangled lock. “No, I would even date you myself,” he tells her gently.

“For real?” She was having a bit of a struggle to comprehend this information.

“Of course you idiot, I’m trying to ask you out on a date.”

(y/n) beams, her smile was too contagious getting Theseus to reflect her happiness. “I would love too.”

“(y/n) have you seen the food for the occamies? I though I left it with them but it’s not there. Oh!” Newt says as he sees the two held hands. (y/n) instinctively pulls her hand away from his, blushing profusely.

“It’s by the nifflers cage,” (y/n) musters out. Newt was shocked to say the least. (y/n) was avoiding eye contact with anyone, defines red. Theseus was shooting Newt a dirty look.

“Right, um. I guess it makes sense that, uh, Theseus kept visiting now. I’ll leave you guys alone,” Newt blurts out before hiding away.

Theseus laughs, reaching out for her hand once again. “I’ll pick you up after you finish tonight if that’s okay?”

She takes his hand, her heart about to explode, “I’ll see you then.” Before jumping off the table, she decides to be the bold one for once. She leans over kissing his cheek before reaching out to fwooper to take it back.

[boredenglishstudent]

Serpents never let eachother go - FP Jones x Reader One Shot

Summary - you’re a young serpent, and your boyfriend FP Jones has a one night “engagement” with Alice Cooper. You do not deal with finding out about it well.

Warnings - age gap (legal reader), violence, mentions of blood, mentions of sex

“BETTY COOPER” your voice echoed and boomed down the school corridor. You saw the pristine blonde ponytail whip around, its partnering crown beanie also turning to look at you, both wide eyed and confused. However, you didn’t give a shit how she felt. In fact, you wanted her to hurt. You ran towards her, slamming her against the lockers. Other students made a circle around you, watching as serpent queen and princess clashed in the hallway. FP Jones was yours, and her filthy mother had sunk her dirty fangs into him.

“Yo what the fuck?!” Jughead shouted beside you.

“Stay out of this jug.” You snapped, kneeing Betty in the stomach. “This is between me and the Coopers.” You fought his hands off when he tried to grab you. He pulled your serpent jacket off in the process.

“What?!” Betty looked up at you.

“Your traitor mother showed up to FP’s trailer last night,” you pushed her into the ground, “and she fucked him. Your mother fucked my man!” You heard gasps, whoops and whistles from all around you. All you could see was red. Before you knew it, your knees were pinning her arms down, fists flying wherever they could. You were hurting, you were distressed, and you needed her to feel it too.

Two arms wrapped around you from behind and scooped you upward, legs and arms flailing, screaming profanities to whoever could hear them. You heard Jughead in your ear “Call my dad now, I’m taking this one home.”

In the parking lot of the school you were still raging, and Jug wouldn’t let go of you in case you ran back to cause any more damage.

“GET IN THE TRUCK NOW” he screamed at you. You flung the door open and slammed it hard, feeling the whole vehicle shake. He got in the driving seat and pulled away quickly. “What the fuck just happened?”

“She fucked your dad. Alice fucking slept with FP. I knew they had history but what the fuck?! He’s mine!” You ran your hands through your hair and sighed.

“Okay, so why did you feel the need to knock Betty out over that?”

That caught you by surprise. You didn’t even know.

“I lost control, seeing her just made me think of Alice, finding her in FP’s t shirt in the trailer this morning.”

“Was my dad not there?” You nodded sadly, remembering the scene.

You’d walked into his trailer this morning to pick up some books you’d left the night before, and there she was. Alice Cooper, standing against the kitchen counter, FP’s flannel hanging loosely off her shoulders, hair messed up, makeup smudged. You’d just looked at her, jaw slack, eyes wide. You’d heard a mumbled profanity from behind you: FP had entered. You looked at him, feeling your heart crack clean in two, before storming outside into the intense cold of the morning. FP had chased you, grabbing onto you, pleading for you to listen to an explanation. You had nothing to say, and didn’t have anything to hear. You knew what he’d done.

“I don’t care how in control you are, you don’t just beat someone up because someone they know did something bad!” Jughead snapped you back to present times, you glanced out the window to see the train tracks passing, you’d entered the south side. “Now your friend and my girlfriend is probably lying on the floor bleeding out while I deal with your emotional baggage. Just use your fucking brain.”

It was now Jughead’s turn to sigh. He pulled up outside the Whyte Wyrm and before the car had fully stopped you were already out.

“Wait, don’t go crazy, wait for me!” You heard him shout after you as you stalked inside.

It was dimly lit inside, and almost empty. A girl was behind the bar and a couple old serpents were hanging around a table in the back. FP looked up at you from the small group and his eyes lit up. You stalked toward him, fists balled. Then he jarred, seeming to remember the morning.

“What have you done FP?” It came out as more of a statement. You stopped right in front of him, moving your hair out your face. His eyes caught sight of your knuckles, bruised and bloodied. He reached out tenderly, his eyes sad and concerned. You snatched your hands away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

He held his hand up in surrender, “Okay let’s just calm down now, please.”

“I saw her in your fucking trailer! In my favourite of your shirts!” His eyes widened as you pushed him backward harshly. Everyone on his table moved away. He wasn’t expect you to call him out like this. Jughead stood beside you, both of you looking up at his dad.

“Come back to my place and we can talk about this private-“

“I’m not going anywhere with you, FP.”

It was at this point Archie entered.

“Why does Betty have a broken nose?!” He shouted at you. You didn’t understand why you were the one under attack here.

“Oh just suck my dick Archie I’m not dealing with you right now,” you snapped back, not even breaking eye contact with FP. His jaw dropped slightly.

“Betty? You beat Betty up?”

“You fucked her mother.”

“Come with me now.” He growled, grabbing your arm and pulling you outside.

You didn’t speak to him all the way back to the trailer, and as soon as you entered you turned on him. Your fists pounded into his chest, screaming every name under the sun. He stood still, letting you take out all of your anger on him. When you started to slow, he caught your fists and looked at them closely, letting you cuss him out. He stayed silent, lips pursed.

“Are you finished?” He asked when you went quiet. You nodded and finally looked away. “Am I allowed to clean you up?” His eyes were soft and guilt ridden. You nodded again.

Slowly, he guided you to the sink, running your fists under the cold water. You hissed in pain and blinked away tears, not even knowing what the cause of them was. Either way, emotionally or physically, your body was racked with pain.

“I’m sorry,”

“Is that all you have to say FP? “Sorry?””

“Well what else do you want me to say?”

“We shouldn’t even be having this conversation. I’m your girl, so you don’t fuck other women.”

“It was a moment of weakne-“

“I literally gave you head yesterday afternoon, you can’t have been desperate for it.”

FP opened his mouth and closed it again, turning away.

“Keep your hand under there, I’m getting bandages,” he mumbled, a twang of sadness in his usually calm, rough voice. For the first time since your foul discovery that morning, you were alone. Letting your emotions finally overcome you, tears began to freely fall down your cheeks. FP returned with a small box, and he wordlessly started cleaning your wounds, finishing them with a thin bandage, allowing you to cry throughout, unable to look you in the eye.

“Do you love her?” You finally managed to ask.

“No,” he responded instantly, hands on the countertop, looking out his window.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes! Yes I love you, you know I do.” You raised your eyebrows. “I fucked up okay? Incredibly. Yes, me and Alice have history dating back before you were even born, but I never loved her the way I loved you. I’ve never loved anyone, truly, except you. I might be older than you but do I know how to deal with these emotions? No. Did I know it was wrong? Of course! She wouldn’t leave though, she wouldn’t leave until after you came to see me this morning, as if she was making a point, as if I’ll always be a slave to her. She wasn’t doing it for you, to be a good person and show you I cheated, she walked in here, pushed me until I said yes and used me. She used me to scare you off, trying to keep her daughters friends away from the gang she abandoned. She doesn’t want Betty near any of us. I’m sorry I was so weak. I love you.” He finally tore his eyes from the window to look at you. You were looking straight ahead, your back against the counter top.

“You really hurt me, F.” You whispered.

“I know,”

“What were you even thinking?”

“I wasn’t,”

“I love you too.”

From the corner of your eye you saw his mouth twitch into a tiny, one sided smile.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head in response.

“I don’t want to see my dad’s reaction to the fact I’ve probably been suspended again.”

He nodded and chuckled, “do you wanna stay here?”

“On the couch, yeah. I’m not sleeping in that bed.” More tears began to form. FP stepped in front of you, one hand gently cupping your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him. When the tears fell he brushed them away softly, kissing your forehead.

You spent the evening sat cross legged on FP’s couch, his jacket around your shoulders. It was hard to look at him still, every time you looked into his dark eyes you saw Alice Cooper biting his lip and scratching down his back. You cursed quietly and went back to FP’s first aid kit. Every time you thought of it your nails dug into your palms and you’d finally drawn blood. While you dabbed at the scarlet crescent moons on your hands, FP came up behind you frowning. His hands found your waist and you froze, confused about how you felt toward his moment of tenderness.

“What’s this?” He asked softly, eyeing the bloodied cotton on the countertop. He nestled his chin into the crook of your neck. You blushed.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, imagining it.”

“You’re making this worse for yourself, baby.” You spun in his arms and looked up at him, making eye contact for the first time in hours.

“My heart hurts, F. You hurt me, you made a mistake and I’m hurting.” He hung his head.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he pulled you into a hug. You breathed in the smell of old cigarettes, whisky and cheap beer: the smell of home.

“I’m even more worried about my dad and brother’s reaction to all of this, news travels fast between the young Serpents.”

“Oh, trust me baby, me too.”

“I hope you understand how hard you’re going to have to work to stop me from being upset,” FP’s hand ghosted over your cheek.

“Oh, trust me baby, I really do,” he smiled softly, running his thumb over your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You hesitated before nodding. Slowly, his lips pressed against yours, and it was unlike any kiss you’d shared before. The hand on your jaw moved to brush through your hair, and his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, crushing the space between you. You could feel the intensity in the way he gripped your hair, and the way you had absentmindedly grabbed a fist full of his t shirt. Slowly, carefully, he pushed you until your back was against the counter. FP smiled when you gasped due to the cold wood hitting your thighs. When he pulled away, your eyes flitted open.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled at your response and stroked your hair gently.

“Now promise me that whenever I make a mistake in future you won’t pin your friends to the ground.”

“Promise me you won’t make a mistake of this size again and I won’t have to.” He moved so close that his stubble grazed against your face, a small sideways smirk dancing across his lips.

“Deal.”

[ten-thousand-paper-wasps]

They were going to rob Duke Enerwaeir blind.

Or, at least, he and Falk were. Morrin was becoming increasingly suspicious of their absences and subsequent newfound wealth, and she couldn't keep a secret, so of course Nells wasn't going to tell her. They all had their roles to play in this gambit. She just happened to be at her most convincing when she wasn't aware she needed to lie.

It was a dress ball, so there was plenty of money to be had, if their hands were quick enough. Naturally, that meant spending an evening looking absolutely delicious.

His immensely gorgeous hunk of Husband was completely slaying it. Zakurr's lustrous, glossy braids were now adorned with tiny, delicate chains. Each of his four horns was buffed to perfection. The length of fur about his waist was shining and soft and it smelled like apples, sweet and spiced.

That wasn’t all, though. Zakurr had put on the boots Nells was ever so fond of. They went all the way up his legs, ending nearly at the top of his thighs. Nells was almost drooling, just thinking about him. Why did he have to go and be all scrumptious?

Nells himself wore a long dress, all dazzling greens and blues. The material shimmered as he moved, with a slit up the side to expose his long, shapely legs. His hair was painstakingly combed out and pinned in place, an elegant waterfall of soft mahogany. He even put on heels.

Falk looked nearly as delectable as Nells did. They wore a tightly fitted top that bared the entirety of their midriff. The center of the chest was cut out, as well, showing off their shape. They also had a pair of expensive burgundy pants that were loose about the hips and tight below the knees. Falk had chosen to keep their regular boots, seeing no reason to forego sensible footwear, opting instead for heavy gold jewelry.

And Morrin! Oh, his beautiful Morrin. She'd granted him a boon, permitted him to fuss over her for an evening. Her fiery, red-gold mane billowed about her like a cloud, sparkling with tiny jewels. Her hands, wide and rough and ravishing, fluttered uncertainly at the hem of her vest, a stately forest green piece of silk and silver. She was dazzling, a diamond in her own right, but ill at ease amongst the upper echelons of nobility.

It made a certain amount of sense, he supposed. Masonaile, where she'd lived all her life, hadn't had much in the way of wealth. Of course she felt out of place here. But, he was pleased to note, she was handling it admirably.

Morrin was shaking hands and trying to dance and blushing up a storm whenever she was complimented. There were pretty people all around her, giving her their attention. He spies Falk moving among them, hands quick and dainty and pockets charmed to be impossibly deep.

Zakurr looks on, using his immense height to keep watch. People buzz around him like mayflies. Two men knock into him on purpose, but one look sends them scrambling.

Then, Falk waltzes, moving from dancer to dancer, to Nells, flushed and panicked. "It's Morrin," they pant. "She's with some ashing young Earl, he's trying to get her alone."

It takes him a moment to process why this is horrible. Ordinarily, Morrin was devastatingly capable. She would have killed him and been done with it. But they were at a ball, and she'd been thoroughly disarmed, spending nearly half an hour pulling out weapon after weapon. There was an entire table just for her things.

She had nothing on her person with which to kill the Earl. Additionally, she was under the impression she mustn't, for reasons of diplomacy. So, he supposed, it was up to their little family to rescue her.

First, Zakurr had to be told.

"Honeybear," Nells commanded. "Get ready crush some skulls. Morrin's got a boy problem."

Smoke on the wind, but she'd let him, too. She would let the Earl do whatever he wanted. Why had they told her they wanted to win favor from the Duke? "Just don’t cause a scene and it'll be fine." She would be terrified of letting them down. She would call it duty.

Harkenship had been a bitter lesson. He could not let her be hurt like that again.

Falk moved the quickest, palming a knife from a serving tray and plunging it into the Earl's kidney, soft and silent. The Earl let out a low gasp and dropped. Morrin's face was a mix of relief and horror.

It was chaos after that. Morrin stomped on the Earl's neck, killing him. His friends moved to kill her, but Nells was faster. His long legs were wrapped around the neck of the biggest one, choking him, while Morrin threw punches hard enough to crack stone and Falk smashed kneecaps with impunity.

The other guests were screaming in terror and outrage, crowding eachother like a swarm of rats. Zakurr took one step toward the fight and they parted before him like a desperate tide.

When he got there, he kicked a Baron to the floor and Falk leapt up for a kiss, drawing Zakurr's strength into themselves and pressing their bag to his bare chest. "Grab our things. I love you."

And Zakurr was off, charging to the low tables to retrieve their weapons. Falk's bag never filled, no matter what he put in it, so he emptied every table in the room before moving on to the Duke's personal valuables. With everyone distracted by the fight, he had plenty of time.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"Grab our things," Falk told him, already feeling Zakurr's power roiling in their chest. "I love you."

They slammed a palm to the floor and the ground quaked beneath them. Stone erupted through the floor in angry spikes. How dare he. How dare a mortal Earl try to dishonor Falk's oldest friend? For Morrin, Falk would do anything.

Right now, it meant killing a dozen people they'd only intended to steal from for doing her the supreme insult of defending the Earl. He earned his death. He earned it the second he laid eyes on her and made his move.

Falk was angry, and Nells had a feral smile, and Morrin was going to go home after only bloodying her perfect knuckles. She was too precious to them to be hurt.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Owlsby was disguised as an unfortunately deformed carriage horse. He was getting to be too big to hide, so it only made sense to find new ways to take him into town. The extra legs were hidden under a blanket and tucked up out of sight. Nells convinced him to allow Zakurr to hitch him to a stolen cart. In the right lighting, like now, under the half moon, it was very nearly convincing.

Zakurr tossed Falk's bag in the back and hopped into the seat, letting out a sharp whistle. Owlsby roused himself from his nap as Nells came sprinting out of the building, Morrin tucked under one arm and protesting. As soon as they were safely at his side, Zakurr whistled again, louder and sharper. The building caught fire.

Falk appears in his lap with a soft pop, makeup smeared, with a very unsettled lizardfolk in their arms. Her dress was lovely, if shredded and burnt.

"Falk," he warns, "Did you kidnap her? You know we can't take her with us if she doesn't want to come."

The lizardfolk in question blushes and mumbles that she'd love to come, anywhere in the world as long as it isn't here. Zakurr resolves to ignore it for now and question her in the morning, if she's still around. He slaps the reigns gently and Owlsby takes off for the inn. They can pay the fee and collect their packs, but it isn't wise to stay in town. Not after that.

It would be nice, he muses, really nice, if this could just stop happening. Theft was all well and dandy if it kept them fed, and it did, so Zakurr wasn't about to complain. But he would love it if he didn't have to strike entire towns off of their map when Falk and that idiot elf got a little too greedy.

There was no need to rob every noble at the ball. No reason. And then one little human man gets too handsy when Falk can see him, and now he's dead for it.

True, the Earl had definitely been in the wrong, and sure, he could believe Morrin was glad of his death. But it was something that could easily have been resolved without any blood, had Zakurr been the one to reach him first, and Falk's increasing bloodlust as of late concerned him.

That amulet stank of evil and death, but they refused to take it off for any length of time. Zakurr was willing to bet his fifth kidney that it was to blame. Power was a lure Falk had never been able to resist.

He only prayed his dearest Nells did not become so foolish.

[yandereaffections]

Double request ooo~ A bit gorey, this is a yandere blog lol

————

-let’s get one thing settled

-they’re both possessive

-Bucky and steve are not sharing

-you’re theirs, if they have to start a bloody war over it they will

-for you of course.

-first it will be competition for your affections, then kidnaping, then fighting eachother to get you away from the other wether it’s by murder or not

-separating them into two

Preferring Bucky over Steve

————

-you and Steve were at a cafe, Bucky suddenly siting next to you and wrapping an arm around you

-“what was that? Are you two dating or something?” Steve says as a joke

-hands intwined with Buckys, a smile on your face, giggling out a yes

-Steve sits in shock his words playing against him, his face losing all color while his hand clench the cafes cup. Feeling way more than overwhelmed and Buckys smirk of success didn’t help

-his breathing becoming heavier along with your smile dropping quickly becoming concerned. “Steve?” You reach your hand out towards him about to touch his shaking hand before he suddenly jerked back

-“no no! I’m fine! Y/n... I just, I got to go.” Slamming the cup down leaving cracks in the cup and indents into the table as he stands up quickly rushing out of the cafe, everyone staring

-your taken aback, shocked and upset. It shows as your lip quivers slightly

-“well that was dramatic.. baby?” Looking over to you noticing your distress “oh baby no, it’s ok come here” bringing you to his chest, cold metal arm soothing as Bucky rubs your back

-pays for everything and brings you home

-so while Bucky is possesive he’s also considerate, knowing what it’s like to be locked up in one area for who knows how long

-try’s to take you out on a daily basics even if it does risk Steve taking you away, Bucky wants you to be happy with him.

-after the outlash at the cafe Bucky kept his guard up, keeping track of almost everything including Steve

-thinks Itd be better if he’d just kill steve, but Bucky knows that would make you beyound upset

-so instead Bucky just does his best to keep you loving him

-meanwhile Steve is thinking over every single moment he’s ever had with Bucky, feeling betrayed, he stole you from him.

-steve knew you loved him, why would you date Bucky then? Your trying to make him jealous? You did love him? Right? Of course..

-stalks you while forming a plan, every single movement every single breath. Even when your with Bucky, hurting the entirety of Steve’s heart

-Bucky can tell, makeout with you twice as often. Every possesive affection he can possible manage while glaring in the direction Steve’s in

-it’s decided. Steve’s going to kill him.

-how dare he, how could Bucky touch what was obviously his, violating and taking away your purity

-Steve must get you away from this monster

-steals your phone when you and Bucky are separated, texting him to met you up early for dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant.

-a simple ❤️ and “I’ll see you then” was Buckys response

-while you were kidnapped, blindfolded and gaged with your hands tied behind your back. Resting against steves beds headboard tears drying on your face

-a small kiss on your forehead before he left you there, having Bucky to deal with

-Bucky leaning against the wall, already had texted you multiple times that he was at the meeting spot.

-Steve hiding in the shadows, the restaurant basically abandoned waiting for bucky to let down his defenses

-Sighing Bucky shoves his phone into his pocket pushing himself off the wall before being slammed right back into it

-Steve’s face calm, focused, and all over indifferent to the actions he took against Bucky, not leaving even one inch for Bucky to defend himself

-shoving his skull straight back into the brick wall, Steve’s strength doing well to complete his task

-a quick attempt at defense before losing consciousness, and if Bucky were to do it a second earlier he might’ve had a good chance at defeating Steve

-this action was repeated multiple times, until the whole scene was a bloody mess.

-one last throw at the wall before Steve lets go of Buckys bashed in head, quickly getting out his phone and contacting the crime cleanup group he hired

-watching them clean it up thoroughly, a dead stare while he makes sure there’s not a bit of evidence left. Paying them, threatening that he can do much worse if they were to try anything

-coming back home to you, taking everything but the ties off of you, wanting to hear and see your beautiful eyes again

-a cold dead face, blood and bits of chunks splattered across his face and in his hair

-a scream was expected, tears escaping your eyes quicker as you try to get as far away from him as possible

-the man you once knew as a good man siting in front of you on his bed, now covered in blood with a look that confirms what he did

-“Steve, s-steve please, oh god oh please what, what did you do!? Let me go!”

-his hand strokes Buckys blood across your checks, a smile slowly growing on his face as you whimper trying to avoid his touch

-“don’t worry dear.. it’ll be just fine now, all you have to do is love me, I promise.”

——

(This fits so well omg)

————

Preferring Steve over Bucky

————

-PDA TO THE MAX

-Steve keeps you near him, keeping you happy and loved

-getting you little gifts and homemade goodies

-it’s obvious your in a relationship with Steve

-you and steve cuddling on the couch watching TV, hearing the door bell you go to answer it

-holding up plastic bags “Hey y/n! I got us some sodas...” Buckys smile falling seeing Steve with his arms wrapped around your stomach head resting on your shoulder, a expression of a smirk mixed in with a glare

-“Bucky! Hey here let me take those for you.” Taking the bags from Buckys weak hands as he stares at you, everything clicking.

-quickly pretending to take a phone call, holding back his struggling voice. Saying sorry, keep the sodas and avoiding you for the rest of the month

-god you don’t understand how heart broken this child is

-spends days just laying down in his bed, scrolling through old text messages with you knowing exactly which ones make you laugh until you cried

-days just basking in the little items he stole from you, never taking off the one hoodie you let him borrow and forgot about.

-Buckys mourning, reading over all your text the you send, all of them showing your concern asking what wrong

-always wanting to answer them but never gaining the courage to, the fact that your with Steve always putting him down

-a month

-that’s all he needs to bring himself back in pure focus, knowing his goal, knowing what will make him feel better

-it’s you

-it has always been you

-saving Bucky from his past, and you’ll save him from his depression he knows it. Your just distracted right now, right? Your obviously concerned, you love him you do he knows it

-Steve being nothing but a obstacle, a simple obstacle. Takin time and caution getting back into a relationship with you, especially with Mr. Captain America around you 24/7

-starts up his conversations with you again, keeping the relationship alive and well. Maybe better than ever as he does much more research

-puts ten times as much effort into adoring and befriending you, conecting with you in ways Steve could never come close to

-manipulative

-you help Bucky through his toughest times, helping him learn to love and live again. Don’t say your just abandon that because he’s being a bit more pushy than before.

-Steve knows nothing of your conversations, mostly texting you at night and when he’s not around

-becomes your very best friend, climbing the ladder slowly into your love

-you’ll get a strange text from your brother who’s in a different state, saying there’s a family emergency and he needs you to come alone to help with your father

-not wanting to drag Steve into anything to serious you kissed him and took the flight away.

-Steve, now alone and desperate for your touch. All his defenses down.

-waiting for him to walk out of the house you both share, hiding in the bushes with a switch blade in hand and a gun in his pocket.

-Steve first step out the door will be his last, Bucky quickly ambushing him, shoving the knife into his throat, the door clothing behind bucky while he twists and slides the knife down his neck. Quickly bringing out his gun shooting a hole in his head, taking out the target

-taking out a few of your things before setting Steve and the house full of memories with him on fire

-the issue quickly being solved with your family, when you come back to a home that wasn’t there anymore you didn’t know what to do

-hearing Bucky calling from behind you, quickly comforting you when he told you the news

-you lived with him now, everything claimed as a tragic accident while you love him

[killin-lightspeed]

Just a little error [Chapter 1/??]

Warning: this silly fanfiction may contain fan-characters. If you don't like them, please, avoid reading it. Thank you!

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

"...So, you made me throw away years of hard work in one day. Pathetic..."

He scraped his teeth, tightening the grip on the glass almost full of alcohol and hid half of his face with one hand, trying to erase from his head the argument he had with his father a few hours ago.

"Useless..."

The older figure was clearer in his mind, noticing his folded arms and crimson eyes that were reflecting scorn and a bunch of negative feelings that were destroying him in one shot. He felt like a stroke of bad luck for his family and his rage was increasing every time he tried to give a glance to the alien.

"A blather without dignity."

He perceived his heart loosing a beat at every insult he heard, unable to bear with that abstruse, emotional pain; but why was he angry? After all his action vexed his father, and he had a good reason to be annoyed by it, but why was it hurting him so much?

His legs were quivering, like if they were withered leafs, and his nails made the blood pour, leave little warm stripes on his cheeks.

"You humiliated your whole family, good job..."

«Shut up.»

"...you deserve a trophy now..."

«Shut up...»

"...scum of society.»

«SHUT UP!»

A swifted and reflexive movement of Oxide's arm throwed the glass on the wall, blinded by the rage araised by those harsh, evil words. It wasn't a long lasting moment and the alien immediately realized the mess he had done when the noise reached his ears, kneeling on the chair and discern a lump in his throat, the shaking, weak body, his shiny eyes gazing the stain and a retching feeling he was trying to hold; it was like he lost every movement capacity, were those words so strong for him?

Minutes after minutes passed and Oxide took a bit of time to wake up and stagger toward the kitchen counter to grab a clammy cloth and staying still in front of the sink, trying to hold his body with the last pieces of strength he had and backing the head on shelf door to recover some energies.

He sighed and gritted his teeth, moving toward the wall with the only goal his mind elaborated, making it the main outburst subject to drive away every stupid consideration about his father's annoyance. He didn't cared at all about the glass shards on the floor and lowering on them he started washing vigorously away the stain while the other hand was pierced by the glass fragments, making him moan for the pain.

He wasn't brave enough to cry, no, he HADN'T to do that and let his weaknesses take over him; his only duty was to repress his rage and remain the grumpy, bilious alien he had always been. He just hoped that nobody heard the noises and watched him in that lousy state.

"Aren't you disgusted by yoursef?"

«Please, stop...» He whispered with his hoarse voice, bending his body like he was trying to hide from the parent presence who was slowly killing his soul.

«I-it was just a s-stupid error, I-I always win a-after all, r-right, d-dad?»

He was loosing his mind, he never received so many insults in his whole life that had hurt him so deeply. Since his youth he had been used to hear compliments over compliments, one more enjoyable than the other, and noone ever tried to denigrate him. Each enticement helped him increasing his ego, making him think to be the best in a land full of idiots; the white sheep between a flock of black sheeps. Yet the alien who had brought him to success destroyed him in less than an hour, treating him as he had a worm in front of his eyes instead of his own child. He rested his head on the wall, trying to smile to comfort himself.

«I'm the be-best, i-is it t-true, da-»

«Oxide...»

Unexpectedly, a feminine voice called his name and a thrill beated his back after a tapered hand touched his shoulder, making him regaining a bit of perspicuity. The cloth fell from his hand and he refused to turn his head to see the alien near him; he knew who she was but he felt embarassed to show himself in that condition, afraid of being scorned for that challenge or his actual aspect. They hated eachother but in that moment Oxide wasn't in the mood to have a discussion with Tarantula, the housekeeper.

«Oxide, show some respect and look at me when I call you.»

Oxide refused to reply to her words and avoided her command to show the lastest slieces of pride he had; it wasn't the perfect moment to fall and show how pitiful he was, physically and emotionally. She pressed her hand, bothered by the lack of attention of the alien.

«OXIDE!»

«WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT?!»

As soon as Oxide turned his head to give a little stare to Tarantula, he had a sense of remorse. Those magenta eyes gazing at him made his soul feeling powerless, uncomfortable, a child in front of a giant monster ready to eat him up. She had to be happy, he obeyed to her order.

«Look at yourself, a disaster. Not used to insults, aren't you, little prince?»

Listening to those words made Oxide's nerves boil up, finding her derisive grin in her mout as an act of superiority. How could she dare showing her power in front of HIM, the most famous racer in Gasmoxia?

The green alien tried to naively hide his face by Tarantula's eyes, bothered by her presence. She calmly approched toward him, grabbing nonchalantly his face to oserve how ruined, hot it was, making her sigh. Her grin vanished from her mouth and one of her rough hands moved slightly to touch Oxide's thin neck to caress it and feel his smooth skin. His body was still shaking, his eyes were looking at something ealse in the room and his round, soft cheeks turned into a soft, cherry red, like he was sheepish staying in that position. He changed a lot: he wasn't anymore that tiny little alien, yet watching his face was like she was in front of a sad, hurted baby; he made her sense a bit of tenderness.

Oxide, in the other hand, was surprised by Tarantula's maternal gestures. He rarely had that kind of contact with her but, in the end, it was nice and helped him relaxing a little.

«You really pity me...- she did a little laugh, gently touching one of the glands in the left side of his head and make him bite the lower lip -... You got a bad fever and cut one of your hands with tose little pieces of glass. You made all of this because of someone who doesn't deserve your presence. How adorable...» The housekeeper stopped talking for some seconds, watching at Oxide's slender, bloody legs and at the hand full of glass shards. She moved closer to him, seeking for a little bit of attention, and rudely forced the alien to look at her.

«How much broken are your emotions now? Are you serching desperately for some compliments? Isn't it a bit greedy, sweetheart? They're not like lifeblood, you know.»

Those calm, yet powerful, words punched violently Oxide's mind and the only thing he was able to do in that moment was moving away his head from Tarantula's hands, hiding his head between his shoulders and think about that comment. No, compliments were part of him, they WERE vital, was she despising them?

«P-please, t-tell me I'm th-» He needed a little compliment. All the bad words of his father were slowly devouring each part of his sentiments, the tiniest praise was enough for him.

But it didn't came and, instead, received an harsh rebuke by the alien, stopping his guileless request.

«Grow up, dear, perfection doesn't exist. If you really want to feel like a God, move your ass and stay with my mother. Maybe her sick conception of "Perfection" can help you feel be...- Tarantula stopped her phrase, regretting what she was saying in front of someone who had an abusive father for his entire life. Her mother wasn't the best neither. She sighed, and continued to talk -...Whatever, forget what I said. And no, I won't compliment you out of nowhere. Wait here, I'll grab a tweezer to remove those slivers.»

Both of them remained silent for some long lasting minutes, unable to exchange some words and caught by the embarrassment caused by that situation. Tarantula was removing the glass from Oxide's hand while he was thinking about his father, his youth, his whole life; it was all a lie, still he believed every fragment of it. But there was something that was bugging his psyche, suddenly popping in his mind.

"Maybe you can bury yourself and hide. No one needs you."

That phrase touched the climax of his patience and exasperation. His body stiffed and he gulped unhappily. How was he supposed to live with his presence?

«It hurts...»

That whisper caught Tarantula's attention, rising her head to look at the alien, confused.

«Why did he treated me that way? It was j-just a stupid error.»

The housekeeper's eyes opened whide: what she was watching was unbelievable for her. Those glassy red eyes, the shaking body, the clear tears that were slipping away from his cheeks. Oxide, the fastest racer of Gasmoxia, was crying?

No words she was able to pronounce, what she was staring at made her heart melt; it was surprising, strange, painful. She wasn't prepared for that scene, she didn't know what to do, how to help. But Oxide was still crying, she had to do something. She slowly proceeded toward him, girdling her arms around his bust and let him rest his head on her chest, crying to dissolve the rage, the stress he held for a long time. She hated the character he built during the years but she was well aware that under that armor there was someone too fragile, too attached to his idol to consider his words as truth.

She tightened the hug, sensing Oxide's arms consolidate the grip on her shirt and his head moving on her chest. He was like a baby.

«I'm not the best mom, nor the best moral supporter of Gasmoxia but you, Oxide, are a great, magnificent racer. You're a filthy cheater but your driving skills are incredible. Your father doesn't deserve your tears, your father doesn't deserve you. You're valid, Oxide.»

Her fingers touched delicately his head and in her mouth appeared a little smile. Oxide was able to feel her maternal side, loving all the compliments made by her and keep them as a treasure; he was harsh, cantankerous toward her feelings but, deep in his heart, he loved her as a second mom.

«Thank you, Tula...»

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

I.DID.IT! Finally I finished the "translation" of this fanfiction. AH, now I'm feeling better. Hope you enjoyed it. :P

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Lost no More: Chapter 1 - A Malicious Plan

Summary: After three years Hiccup's sudden disappearance remains unsolved. A grieving father is forced to move on for the sake of his village, a blacksmith has yet to choose a new apprentice, children grow up missing the face they've known since birth. The Dragon Master and a fated reunion may finally give them the answers they seek.

Author’s Notes: Decided to post the full chapters now here too. Expect the next one tomorrow.

This was originally just an idea I posted on Tumblr, but I was never sure if I should even turn it into a fic because so many people have already written for the 'Hiccup runs away' trope. So this story pretty much came into existence thanks to @coneygoil, @renkocchi, @softhairstark, @daglout, @just-call-me-emrys, @let-the-wind-carry-us and @only-girl-on-a-dragon on Tumblr, who motivated me to go ahead and turn this idea into a fic. Seriously, thank you guys!

He didn't want to leave.

Even after packing a basket with what he thought were the bare essentials, even after exclaiming to his dragon that they should 'take a vacation... forever!', and even after climbing on Toothless' back and taking off, Hiccup found that they couldn't leave.

They had been flying for well over an hour now after their smooth departure from the cove, the place where their friendship had first blossomed, and the sun was already gradually setting. But instead of choosing a direction and flying off into the distance to then desperately keep from looking back, they had been widely circling the island of Berk.

Occasionally they even soared over the Viking settlement itself and each time Hiccup gazed down at the people going about their day, many still celebrating their heir's winning of the honour to kill a Monstrous Nightmare in the Kill Ring tomorrow, and at the house he grew up in.

Though he doubted it, Hiccup wondered if his father was already home. He wondered if the man was waiting for him and looked forward to seeing his son again.

It made a stabbing pain form in his chest and he began to question his want to leave.

He knew his father loved him. Gods, no matter how strained their relationship was or how little they understood eachother, that was something Hiccup knew for certain. That man would die for him, has even jumped in front of the hot flames of a dragon to protect him, and here he was about to leave.

About to leave Berk and the people who trusted he one day step up as chief to lead them through an uncertain future. His mentor who taught him everything he knew in blacksmithing and was like an uncle to him. The new friends, those who had finally come to see him as more than just the 'troublemaking runt' and who were now seeing and liking him for who he was. And his father, who's heart he'd break by doing something as callous as fleeing from his problems without so much as leaving a note.

Not even the rush of the wind, though usually so soothing even as it caused adrenaline to course through his veins, could do nothing to wash away the guilt he felt.

Hiccup's hold on the saddle he had created with his very own two hands tightened as that awful feeling in his chest grew and suffocated the very life out of him.

That was why he realized he couldn't leave.

The Night Fury he rode gave a warble in question as he looked at his scrawny rider from over his shoulder, wondering why it is that Hiccup insisted they keep flying above the Viking island.

Though night was approaching, a black dragon with wings as big as Toothless' still tended to stand out for now. So it was why, even though he wanted to give Hiccup the time he needed to say goodbye to his human home, the longer they spend flying around Berk all the easier it'll become for them to be spotted.

To fly or to stay, the boy on his back needed to make a decision now.

"I'm sorry, Toothless." And a decision was exactly what had been made.

This had all been to keep the dragon safe. Whatever Hiccup was so afraid would happen tomorrow, Toothless' understanding of the human language wasn't all that great yet, it had something to do with him. Something about their cover being blown, about secrets and lies being exposed. Whatever it was, it scared the Viking boy.

"I know we should go, I really do, but I can't." Hiccup wasn't expecting the dragon to forgive him or to even listen to him, but he still pressed on.

"Can... Can we go back, Bud? Back to the cove?" He asked almost timidly, a strange sound to hear from someone he'd come to know as so straightforward and... sarcastic?

Whatever that scared him so tomorrow, it apparently couldn't win against his want to stay home. For Toothless, who had known only the Dragon Queen's volcano for the longest time prior to ending up on Berk with this peculiar human fledgling, could respect that decision.

Hiccup was smart. He had helped him reach for the high skies again with his surprisingly clever hands. Toothless could trust the boy would find a solution to his problem aswell.

When the dragon gave him an affirming growl, the Viking released a sigh and rubbed the top of his head, laying down carefully.

"Thanks for understanding, Bud. Really!" Toothless warbled again, as if telling him that he needn't to worry.

Changing course, the unlikely human and dragon duo turned to head back to the cove, something that took quite a bit of energy out of Hiccup's sore body. His muscles were rapidly growing stronger with the several attempted and realized flights, but they had been mostly short.

This was the longest Hiccup had ever been in the air. As much as he was quickly coming to enjoy the sky, he was now longing to stand on his own two feet.

But it was while returning to Berk, honestly the boy already felt like he'd been gone for far too long, that one half of the pair noticed something was off.

Toothless, as he veered to the right to find the cove between the tall trees, suddenly stopped mid-flight. It caused Hiccup to change the position of the tailfin in a blind panic, for a moment believing they were about to crash once more.

Some runaway he was.

"Toothless? What's wrong, Bud?" Boy asked dragon, who gestured with his snout that Hiccup better look down there. He figured this was something an inhabitant of this island would want to see.

Said Viking did as he was told and gazed down at the shores of a beach almost completely on the other side of Berk, just out of sight from their farthest watchtowers. He had to somewhat stand in order to have a proper look.

When he spotted what Toothless believed must be important for him to know, bright forest green eyes narrowed in suspicion.

There was a ship down there, two in fact. And there was one that Hiccup had known his entire life.

"Trader Johann? But he isn't supposed to be on Berk for another couple of weeks. And that other ship, I don't recognize that sail from up here." Though his Norse wasn't the best yet, Toothless had gleaned enough to realize that something was not right. Whatever these strangers had come to do on Hiccup's island could hardly be any good.

"Come on, Bud." Without as much as discussing it first did the two decide to go down low enough to get a better look at the uninvited guests, using rock formations and vegetation as cover.

It wasn't long before Hiccup knew he was right. That crest on the sail was indeed one he had never seen before as it was shaped to look like a fist, a red and bloodied fist. As heir, he was expected to know at least a sail or two. It was hard not to with all of the treaties that needed to be signed annually with allied tribes. But this one did not even look in the slightest bit familiar.

As for the people that ship had brought, they were dressed in clothing Hiccup had never seen before. It was almost like a uniform, worn in the different colours that helped him identify the material as dragon hides even from up here. Some of them were such bright colours.

Because meeting Toothless taught him of the true nature of these fire breathing beasts, Hiccup felt a new kind of anger he had never experienced before well up inside him. An anger and a fear. Both were difficult to swallow.

Diverting his attention, Hiccup searched for the trader he'd known for as long as he could remember, a traveler by the name of Johann who once amused him with wild tales about his adventures in faraway lands. Squinting his eyes, he found him eventually and he seemed to be talking to a balding man.

"I should've brought a spyglass with me." He muttered before directing the tailfin to have Toothless land. He needed to get closer, hear what they were saying, and find out if Berk was about to be in trouble or not.

A small part of him nagged him in the back of his mind, telling him how this might be an excellent opportunity to change his father's mind about dragons.

It was a thought quickly rejected.

Change the mind of Stoick the Vast? Sure.

Folding his wings, Toothless swiftly disappeared within the trees and landed on his four paws with barely a sound. He understood his rider's desire to find out more. With stealth only a Night Fury could have, even with a prosthetic tailfin and a human boy on his back, Toothless crept closer to the two ships and the Vikings on the beach.

To a dragon it was easy to listen in, so Toothless had to remind himself that humans couldn't hear as well as most dragons could, the rare exception being the Thunderdrum. He could only guess it was probably because of all the yelling they could do.

With the sun setting there were plenty of shadows to hide in while amongst the plantlife. Though Hiccup would still make him stand out, Toothless used them to stalk closer. He gave a soft grunt, which his rider thankfully correctly took that he might want to lay down as flat as he could.

It was growing darker and the shadows became longer, but soon enough the Night Fury ran out of space to lurk in. Fortunately, it was just close enough for Hiccup to hear aswell.

Johann, as the boy had called him, was a scrawny man with a thick kind of fur on his chin and jawline. His clothing was also of the sort he hadn't seen any of the Vikings of Berk wear before. It helped him deduce this must be a foreigner. So it wasn't just his ship that told the dragon he wasn't even from the Archipelago.

He was talking to a large, bald man with a differently shaped kind of short dark fur on his face. With his broad shoulders he would've already been an intimidating sight, but there was a worringly dangerous sword on his back, tinted green due to a strange metal. To make matters worse Toothles could see, and smell, that he was wearing the skin of a dragon.

He would've snarled malociously if he wasn't in hiding and protecting that feeble boy on his back.

"Looks like that's the leader, Bud." Hiccup whispered as softly as he could, speaking next to the dragon's left earfin. Both of their gazes were locked on the two arguing men. Johann was angry. The angriest he had ever seen him.

Hiccup strained his hearing to try and catch anything from the conversation, but failed to grasp little besides a few meaningless words.

Stoick, his father.

Runty heir, Hiccup felt a terrible ache clench around his heart. He knew with certainty that they were refering to him now.

And... some kind of king? Of dragons?

A King of Dragons.

"I've worked much too hard to get this far, Ryker..... Dragon's Nest... So close... Stoick will find it for us... Runty heir no problem to deal with..." They were only parts of a rant Trader Johann was apparently giving the stranger, seemingly called Ryker, but it was enough for fear to wrap its cold embrace around Hiccup's heart.

They wanted something from his father, something to do with a king of sorts in the Dragon's Nest. Stoick was supposedly the one to get them there. And after getting it, something would lead to them 'taking care' of his runt of a son. Hiccup knew his life was suddenly in jeopardy and this time not because of dragons or dangerous situations he put himself in.

Toothless sensed the fear as the Viking boy shrunk and half curled up on the saddle with widened eyes. A want to get him out of here sparked within the Night Fury. He could hear his breathing growing ragged, could pretty much smell the fear coming from him in waves, could feel Hiccup's want to just disappear altogether.

This was much different than the time when Hiccup kept his cool as they plummeted out of the sky and almost met a crushing death. Toothless didn’t quite understand why, but he at least understood that whatever was happening was greater than just the two of them.

But whilst they were so caught up in Johann's traitorous ways, boy and dragon failed to notice the predator lurking in the shadows from behind. Knocking an arrow with a suspiciously greenish tip on his bow, the hunter took aim and chose the bigger of the two targets.

"Toothless, we need to go now. My dad needs to know. I'll figure out something to say, but we gotta get out of here." Tapping his dragon's head as he finally managed to somewhat snap out of it, Hiccup spoke and Toothless was more than happy to oblige.

He wasn't all too comfortable with the idea that these two men meant harm to his rider. And he had heard a lot more of the shady conversation than Hiccup did.

But the decision to return was made too late.

As Hiccup positioned the tailfin and Toothless moved to search for a clearing to spread his wings in, the man with the bow let his arrow fly.

The village of Berk was quiet and peaceful while another day came to an end. As the sun slowly set and the moon grew brighter, the celebratory feast in the Great Hall came to an end.

Their heir, Chief Stoick the Vast's only son, had always been an odd boy, much like his late-mother, Valka Haddock. Many might say he had taken after her the most and rightfully so. He was her in both looks and personality.

Yet that same strange and scrawny boy had entered Dragon Training, had excelled in a way they never could've thought possible, and he had become that year's champion. Reason enough to celebrate. The heir finally showed some promise.

The village's only blacksmith was drunkenly laughing amongst friends and boasting about his deceptively frail apprentice. A husky boy read through the Book of Dragons for the eighth or ninth time, eager to see Hiccup again later and ask him if they could study the dragons in the manual together. One pair of twins were recounting their time in training in utter glee, colourfully describing the more violent parts.

A broad shouldered boy, though he did not mention it out loud, felt glad his cousin was acting more like a Viking. Meanwhile a young girl, hoping to one day become a shieldmaiden to fight for her family's reputation, sat seething on her seat at a table with her food untouched. And a father made his way home to his house on a hill, a wide smile of pride present as he looked forward to instill his son with encouraging words and wisdom.

No one had any idea their lives were about to be turned upside down with the disappearance of one young boy.