#the desperate longing fear and trust and hatred and love of realising youre not the only fucking one. youre not. and God's dead in heaven

[calamitys-child]

Crying over the end of monstrous regiment on the train today lads

[writingniap]

inner thoughts

tw// depression, unaliving, sh

there is a point when you realise that this is no longer a phase of adolescence, this is no longer something bad which has happened to you. there is something fundamentally wrong with you, something which might never be fixed. you are broken, you are a patient amongst many, who is labelled according to the actions you have taken to numb the pain or to make your pain visible. ‘the cutter’. there is a moment when you realise this is no longer working. that you do not do this for the rush of euphoria that you used to get when you were compelled to save your own life, when you were compelled to soak your overflowing blood in a discarded trainer sock, when you had to scrub your own blood out of the floor and rugs. it no longer makes you feel whole, it no longer excuses the imperfections and overwhelming list of things that are wrong with you. there is a time when you realise that even drawing your own blood cannot outbalance the self-hatred you feel for yourself. the deep self-loathing which is now etched into your arm, dripping onto the faded carpet. there is a moment where you realise that you have actively worsened your life and you sit, typing this piece with tears welling up, excited that this is the first normal emotion you’ve felt in days or weeks. usually, you laugh with your peers, having the time of your life, until your fire door slams behind you and you head straight for your diary. you shake out the carefully wrapped blade, the tool which will drain you of the nervous energy, the suffering, the idle hatred of yourself. sometimes you are reminded that you are hurting a child who only wants love. a child who trusted everyone up until very recently. a child who has no one she can think of that she might ask for a hug and receive one no questions asked. a child who so desperately wants to be understood yet ignores offers for help. inside me there is a child screaming till her voice bleeds dry. a child who begs me to stop, stop what she’s doing. it hurts! stop cutting me, please. but no one can see her, not even you. instead you continue this selfish pursuit for release and attention the help you are so petrified to ask for, the words which bubble up inside of you. i cut myself at night. i lock myself in my room and cut into my arm and no one knows and no one knows that it’s all i think about every single moment of the day. i check the day to check if it’s a cutting day. and the pain, the stinging, the blood, the slicing into my skin. it’s all i want. yet, there is still fear, a fear of cutting too deep becuase i don’t want to die. each time you think or say this it’s weaker and weaker. when you cut again after a long break it went too deep and you said you’d stop. yet two days later there you were, shaking hand gripping the blade over your arm. it won’t stop.this is your life. a cycle of pain which will return no matter the length of the reprieve. you spend the good time waiting for the bad time because you’ve lived your life in this cycle. this cycle is your life. there is a moment, however, when you realise that this cycle has to end. and you dream of death, you wake up scared because you know that one of these days it will happen again, you’ll try again. to leave this world prematurely. but who can dictate when its your time. you are eighteen and yet you are worn out.

[freyjas-musings]

I am sort of tired of people just looking at Azriels character on face Value without really looking into how he has been written ....

People like Azriel because he is an interesting, layered and complex character . People like him because while he has some of the most attractive characteristics on one hand he also has these unsavoury traits that are glaringly obvious.

He certainly doesn't have the personality of a rock its what you have chosen to see but it's a personal opinion so you can feel free to keep it.

But if you are genuinely interested have a look at this post regarding his personality.

He is not allergic to emotionally available women , he is a 500 year old guy who has always been an outcast and a reject from the moment he was born. Clearly, it's too much for people to understand the psychological trauma of being locked away for 11 years without a window or sunlight or being burnt beyond repair and we are talking about a species that heals quickly. He was then thrown into a camp where he was again an outcast. Not to mention, he spent centuries convincing himself he is only wanted as long as he earns his place and becomes useful , thats a trauma response. He genuinely believes no one would ever want him atleast not beyond the fucked up fantasies they have of him in bed.

I don't cater to Elriel agenda so the whole not being chosen loony bit I am not even going to touch. But I will say this for someone who has never been pursued because of his reputation Elain kept leading him from the word go, why wouldn't he take notice? And with terrible math where 2 of his brothers are mated to her sisters ... why wouldn't he get confused that maybe that was his chance to happiness? Is it right ? No it's garbage.... you don't choose people based on math but this is a guy who is lonely , desperate to be loved and just wants someone to love him unconditionally without the fear of being abandoned. Why do you think Az is obsessed with a mate more than his brothers ? He believes only a mate would love him and never leave him. It's the fear and it's trauma response.

Self worth issues that he refuses to work on? Refuses to work on? His mother was a slave who was abused and he couldn't save her , he saw her being abused .... as a child .... so how about you pay attention to whether you would feel worthy of another person when you couldn't save your own mum from abuse ? Was it his burden to bear? No , he was a child . But based on how protective he is of his mother , how she is always at the back of his mind example when he was speaking to clotho , it has clearly affected him and he carries the baggage and trauma from it. Which is where his need to protect comes from. The fact that he thinks him being less worthy as a life is not cute its sad and heart breaking.

Just wait for his book mate he will address those issues . Unfortunately stories are not written for characters who are already ok and have worked through their issues. Just a suggestion perhaps pay attention to how mental health and seeking help works ..... I just don't feel like explaining why it's wrong to blame someone for not seeking help when they perhaps don't realise it.

If you want to look at the way he spoke of Elain vs how he spoke of Lucien. Lucien for him is an outsider one that came from a court his high Lady was abused in. He is the son of another HL from a court that abused his first love Morrigan. So, do you truly believe his judgement towards Lucien is surprising or uncalled for ? Mor doesn't trust Lucien either nor did Cass until recently and we all know how Elain behaves with Lucien, what is he supposed to go by ? He doesn't need to take the time to understand whether or not Lucien is a better male. He simply thinks Elain doesn't find him worthy while falling all over Az .... it would be confusing to someone who is messy in the head.

Lucien is certainly a better male and I do believe Az will see that in his book. Now, if you really want to be disgusted with Az, I think the fact that he spoke about Elain like she is some object to gain and that he has earned the right to her is the point you can hold onto ... because that was fucking disgusting and one he will pay for.

Be disgusted about the fact that Az the moron did not even think through his words.... he would kill Lucien if challenged but what would it cost Elain to lose a mate ? He is making no sense with that statement. I truly believe Lucien is going to save Azriels ass from being killed somewhere in the next book thereby bringing Az back to ground and pulling his head out of his ass.

There is nothing cute about self worth issues mate. I would urge you to address mental health traits with a bit more respect.

He is a spymaster its his job. It's OK you are not on board with his torturing I am sure he is not either. The torturing clearly weighs on him based on the way he hides his hands when Nesta observes he tortured info out of someone , please do have the patience to wait for his book for things like that to be addressed.

I don't want your girl Elain anywhere around Azriel. Elain has her own well of issues to sort through... they are both terrible for each other and they will only enable each others toxic traits. Two great characters could be just wrong for each other and that's the case for these two.

I am confident Azriel and Gwyn are the ones getting the next book and I can assure you all your additional issues with him will be sorted !!!!

This is not me tearing you apart .... this is just me answering your question.

Cheers!!!

I really want to understand why people like Azriel.

I'm a little scared of getting torn apart over this post, but i genuinely want to understand.

(granted i have not read CC yet, so maybe more about him is revealed)

But after reading acotar, it seems like he has the personality of a rock.

He seems to be allergic to pursuing emotionally available women.

There’s all this nonsense about him “never being chosen” but like he has a whole ass found family who love him and choose him every day. And as for not being chosen by a romantic partner, this kinda feels like his fault. He’s had 500 years to look for someone, but chose to spend it pining over the same woman who clearly doesn't want him. And then the second another emotionally unavailable woman comes along he latches onto her too.

He has self esteem issues that he apparently refuses to work on (again he's had 500 years to go to therapy and process his trauma), but at the same time he also seems to have a superiority complex and is super judgy? (doesn’t think he’s good enough for Elain, but also doesn’t think her mate is good enough for her either. also his judgements and generalisations regarding the Illyrians) Even when he is being heroic/selfless it seems like he’s doing it more bc he thinks his life is worth less than the others, so it’s better if he takes the risks instead of them. This is not cute to me personally.

Also i’m not super on board with his torturing people thing. Like.. in some cases, it’s justified (the Attor for instance) but i feel like a lot of the people he has tortured are probably just average joes working their 9 to 5 (the people in the human queens’ castle he “interrogated” for info on Briallyn. Surely they’re not all evil) or they are not even in their right minds (eris’s soldiers in the crown’s thrall. Also those are your ally’s soldiers. Why are we torturing them?)

I genuinely want to see what the Azriel stans see in him in case my girl Elain does end up with him in the end. I don’t want to be mad about it. And I want to care about him enough to read a book in his POV if it ever comes bc right now I do not.

[pourcap]

thoughts: pg chapter 7

He had grown up admiring Kastor, striving to outdo him because he admired him, and because he was aware of the incandescence of his father’s pride in the moments when he managed to surpass his brother. oh, so basically damen had that kind of super unhealthy relationship with his father where he mostly got affection/attention when he was impressive. also, i do feel a little bit sorry for kastor, but also fuck him.

nikandros? i think i forgot who that was

ugh nooo why are they getting interrupted :( things were so peaceful for once, in that inn

(...) Veretian clothing was frankly useless in an emergency. lol will he ever get over his hatred?

(...) just stood breathless in Damen’s arms. Damen’s hands were on Laurent’s waist; his heart was hammering. ohhh. nice. :') (do you think damen's hands are big enough to hold most of laurent's waist between them? </3)

The shock of the impact was only slightly less than the shock that came from Laurent pressing against him, pinning him firmly to the wall with his body. aaaahhh. AAAAAHHH.

(...) he was plastered so tightly against Damen that Damen could feel every crease in the fabric of his garments, through which, the warm, transmitted heat of his body. / Laurent’s hair tickled his neck. / The whole length of Laurent’s body was flush against his own, thigh against thigh, chest against chest. all those details... damen is really going through it

i can't believe how horny damen is all the time

they're getting chased by who knows whom and even though damen clearly wants to get away without drawing attention, he still can't suppress whatever mixed feelings laurent evokes in him

Damen felt Laurent start shaking against him, and realised that, silently, helplessly, he was laughing. whattttttttt. what. i think my brain just short-circuited

'(...) Not like this boy. Attractive.' this is so mean omg i feel so bad for him :(

The shaking, progressively, had worsened. ‘Stop enjoying yourself,’ Damen murmured. ‘We’re going to be killed, any minute.’ ‘Giant animal,’ said Laurent. ‘Stop it.' i am so sorry for quoting this entire exchange but i love this i love the dynamic i love laurent being amused i love damen being fed up i love it all and i love it so much

i also LOVE when damen mentions that laurent is strong and athletic <3

He found himself laughing a little breathlessly, and saw his expression twinned on Laurent’s face. i don't want to sound like a broken record but !!!! i love this !!! this new side of their dynamic is so interesting and fun and i want more of it

what the fuck laurent????

'(...) Your mousy hair’s like a beacon.' have i ever mentioned how much i love damen's wit???

so sorry for constantly saying how much i love everything every two seconds but i am so giddy reading this chapter

Damen felt it then, the first dizzy edge of new emotion, and he let go his hold of Laurent like a man fearing a precipice; and yet was helpless. i am getting emotional. obv damen has been attracted to laurent before but now, the first time he's seen who i assume is the 'real' laurent, someone who can just be free and have fun and does not have to desperately fight for his life and rights all the time, damen starts actually feeling something for laurent that goes beyond physical attraction?? this is so soft :')

'Trust me,’ said Damen. Laurent looked at him for a long moment without speaking. i feel like i fell in love with them within .3 seconds and now idk how to stop

oh no :(

man, damen's single-minded fighting sounds frightening...

There the man tried ineffectually to throw a rock at Damen (which he dodged) and (...) Damen dragged him up. ‘Who sent you?’ (...) Damen judged the best way to get him to talk. The blow snapped the man’s head to one side, and blood welled and spilled from his split lip. (...) Damen drove him back into the tree hard enough for his teeth to clack together. he's so incredibly intimidating??? not that that's much of a surprise but still... (it's hot, too)

He was going to be too late. no idea what's going on. i'm scared :))))

[mypoisonedvine]

Hi hello I keep thinking about somnophilia with Zemo mix in some breeding kink and hnnng

mannn I wanna make this as dark as possible so we're gonna get wild with this one... warnings for noncon (somnophilia, duh), drugging, breeding kink, brief reference to abortion, implied kidnapping/forced marriage and zemo being The Worst

You really should've known better than to accept a drink that Baron Helmut Zemo offered you.

But, in your defense, it seemed like a peace offering at the time, and you were trying to be a good teammate to Sam and Bucky by tolerating this guy even though he gave you the creeps.

"Cherry blossom tea?" he proposed as he extended a mug to you, the dark pink liquid inside steaming and warming your face.

"Thank you," you nodded, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed over his when you took the drink from his hands.

The drug wasn't fast-acting, because that wasn't what it was meant for. It was meant to keep you sedated through almost any stimulation, but to pass through your system undetected; to you, it would seem like a normal night of sleep.

In fact, it almost looked like normal sleep when Zemo snuck into your room that night, making him almost worry that it hadn't taken effect. Except, of course, that he trusted the chemistry and he suspected that he couldn't have even opened your bedroom door without waking you if you were unaffected. He just worried simply because the stakes were so high if he got caught.

A small part of him almost wanted to get caught, though, even if he knew Sam or James wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they found him using you in this way. Honestly, even if you were alert and consenting they would probably still kill him for it. But it might be fun to watch them realise what he had done to you.

And you... if you knew the ways he was going to defile you, you would be horrified. And as gratifying as that could be to some, the truth was that the Baron would rather see you submit than struggle. He longed to see your smile, to feel your touch and return it in a way that was wanted. But, knowing that was impossible, he had to resort to other means.

Further, he had purpose for you far beyond gratification. See, after careful consideration, Helmut had realized that you would be the perfect candidate to carry a new heir. And even in a world where he could seduce you, he certainly couldn't get you to be bred willingly. No, his best bet was to impregnate you now, secretly, and do his best to make sure that by the time you found out, you were too attached to terminate. Or, perhaps, too imprisoned to be able to do anything but become his new and unwilling-but-convincable Baroness.

Of course, if he wanted to be especially inconspicuous, he could artificially inseminate you. But the natural way was going to be a lot more fun.

He slipped into bed with you, absorbed the warmth of you as he held your pliant body in his arms. You were distinctly and firmly unconscious, your breathing steady and your heartbeat strong if slow. He surprised himself with the way he was drawn to your sleeping form, to the neutral expression on your face. He was so used to seeing you scowl or glare at him, it was nice to see you like this.

"Draga," he mumbled to you as he pulled you closer, rolling you onto your back and finding a place between your legs. You only slept in a sports bra and underwear, a sight that had him hard in an instant even before he began to carefully undress you.

With your body fully exposed to him, he found you already a bit wet and wondered if you'd had a filthy dream earlier in the night... or if you'd been having naughty thoughts during the day. Honestly, with the way you acted so shy and anxious around him, he sort of suspected your disdain for him was not based only in fear but in an arousal that you hated. But he couldn't blame you... you were attracted to power. You knew he had that, and you couldn't forget it.

He slowly rubbed your clit with his thumb, watching you sleep soundly beneath him, feeling your cunt get warmer and wetter by the second. Two fingers into your channel made him force his eyes shut with a sigh to try to compose himself.

"You're tight, darling," he hissed into the silent air of the night. "Fuck, I hope I'll fit. If I hurt you too much you'll wake up sore tomorrow, and we can't have you fighting out about little baby Zemo until you're too far along for the pill, yes?"

Obviously, he didn't need to talk at all during this... but it sort of came naturally. It was nice to speak to you uninterrupted, for once.

"I'm going to get you ready for me, I'll be delicate with you, draga," he promised in a groan, twisting his fingers within you. "Believe it or not, I really have no desire to hurt you."

Your body shifted slightly and his heart raced for a second at the idea that you might be waking up. But instead you stayed asleep, though your mouth fell slack into a little sigh.

"Oh, can you feel it? Even in your sleep?" he wondered aloud with a smirk. "You like how my fingers feel inside you..."

He curled them again and another sleepy moan left you.

"I need to fuck you. I need to hear you moan for my cock," he grunted as he bent down and positioned himself at your entrance. Just pressing against you was nearly overwhelming, you were so warm he could hardly stand it. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been inside a woman... it would've been his wife, all those years ago, and the memory was so distant that it felt like trying to remember a dream.

But you were here, you were alive, you were real. And as he pushed his hips forward, he couldn't help but moan because you felt like heaven.

"Fuck," he hissed, looking down and seeing your eyes almost flutter, hearing you whimper slightly. "It won't be long, draga, I need to finish inside you. But I wish it could last forever..."

Considering the way your body responded to him so eagerly, considering how many years he had been alone and celibate even to the most innocent of touches, considering how quickly he had become enamored with you despite your clear hatred for him, it was a wonder he lasted as long as he did, but it was definitely not anywhere near forever. He held you close and kissed you everywhere he could reach, burying his face in the crook of your neck and breathing the warm, sweet scent of you until he was pumping every drop as deep into you as he could go. Once he was sure you were full to the brim, he still stayed within you for quite some time... after all, he had nowhere else he needed to be, and nowhere he wanted to be more than holding you.

When he pulled out, finally, after what must have been hours, he dressed you again and tried to erase what evidence he could of his presence.

Of course, his come leaking out of you was a pretty strong piece of evidence, but he had a plan for that.

"You had a dream," he whispered to you, indulging himself in softly kissing your ear, "about the Baron. Maybe you want to pretend that you don't know why, but you do. The dream left you so wet and desperate that you made this precious little mess in your panties, that's all, nothing else."

...hey, I never said it was a good plan, but it was still the only one he had.

He left your room as quietly as he entered it, making a quick stop by the kitchen to thoroughly wash the mug you had used for your tea, lest you suspect something and take the time to test it somehow.

But the way your eyes dodged him the next morning, the way you were suddenly all out of snide remarks and sickened glares, made it clear that you really had dreamed of him. Maybe you dreamed of him even before he entered your room, but he would never know that for sure.

What he did know for sure was that even if the chances were somewhat slim that you were carrying his heir, he was going to take you for himself the absolute second that he had the chance, and make absolutely sure that you were. You were going to make a lovely wife, once you realised he was never going to let you go.

[itsnothesameasitwas]

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part one)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: growing up in marley, y/n learnt the devils of paradis are her greatest enemy. though they shared the blood running through her veins, their mere existence led to constant discrimination against y/n’s people. knowing all of this, y/n enlists in the marleyan warrior program; a program designed to turn eldians like herself into titan shifters. however, joining the program leads y/n to the devil’s paradise, and she realises the truth marley so desperately hid from them.

warnings: spoilers for season 4, blood and violence. reader has hair long enough to be tied up, but only in a flashback.

notes: i’m leaning toward this being a 5 part series at most with jean as the love interest, but i’m not too sure, it might be shorter or longer than that!

word count: 2506

"When you become a Marleyan Warrior, you'll make all of us proud here in Liberio, Y/N." Her mother spoke, pulling the child's hair back as she tied it with a crimson red ribbon. "You'll show them that we aren't like those island devils."

Her mother spoke with disgust as she mentioned the Eldian devils of Paradis. By now, Y/N knew to keep silent and agree with her mother about everything.

"You'll become one of the Warriors for me, won't you, Y/N?" She glanced down at her daughter, a stern expression on her face.

Y/N nodded her head, smiling up at her mother. "Of course."

It was a decision completely out of Y/N's hands, she could only train as hard as she could and hope for the best. But in her mother's eyes, the best just wasn't good enough. It was never good enough.

Looking back, Y/N could hear the words "this is the only way" repeating in her head over and over again until she began to agree with it too.

The only way for the Marleyans to see her family as just a little bit more human, was if Y/N were to become one of the warriors.

Earning that red band and becoming honorary Marleyans was the only way to be happy.

Y/N leaned against the wall of the courtyard her and the others in her Warrior training unit were waiting in. The tip of her shoe digging into the ground in front of her as she stayed buried within her thoughts.

With the previous warriors terms coming to an end, she had heard from the army that she was a prime candidate for one of the Titans, it was almost guaranteed at this point considering the Warrior unit had been narrowed down to the 8 of them.

But soon, one of them would be left behind, while the others are turned to Titan shifters.

“Did you guys hear? We’re attacking Paradis Island in just a few years,” Zeke spoke from where he was sitting, before chucking an apple in Marcel’s direction.

“Huh?” Y/N breathed out, raising her head to look over at the older man.

“It’s almost time for us to inherit Titans,” Zeke continued. “Out of the eight of us, they’re picking seven!”

Y/N looked back at the ground for a moment, the 10 year old’s shoulders becoming stiff. Yes, she was almost guaranteed to receive a Titan, but if something happened and she failed to earn the title of honorary marleyan’s for her family…

“Yes! I can finally be Marleyan!” Reiner spoke excitedly.

“Huh? Why so excited?” Porco glanced over at him. “If anyone’s the worst, it’s you.”

Reiner’s head snapped in the boy’s direction, his hands clenched into fists. “Excuse me?!”

“What’s your strong point?” Porco continued. “Your strength? Your brains? Your aim? Combat ability? Nope. The only value they see in you is your loyalty to Marley.”

Y/N kept her gaze off the two boys, knowing Porco was right. The only thing that made Reiner appealing to Marley was his unrelenting loyalty.

One day, that wouldn’t be enough.

“I’ll slaughter the island devils real good for you, sir!” Porco mocked.

Reiner stepped forward, grabbing Porco’s wrist, causing the boy to drop the apple he was holding. “You making fun of our mission?! Or maybe you’re a stray Restorationist?! You are, aren’t you?! I’ll report you to the Commander!”

“Report this, you little shit!”

When Y/N finally lifted her head, Reiner was already on the ground. And Marcel was holding his brother back from attacking the boy again.

“Hating the island doesn’t make you special!” Porco told him. “Have fun waiting 13 years alone!”

Knocking his brother away, Porco began to storm off, causing Zeke to finally stand up. “Let’s go, Pieck, Y/N.” He spared a quick glance at the girls standing near him.

Pieck, older by just a few small years, was much like a sister to Y/N. Looking out for her during their time in the program despite the fact they were possibly competing for a place.

The raven haired girl took Y/N’s hand, gently pulling her along to follow after Zeke. It was a habit Pieck had taken up after noticing Y/N’s tendency to space out when things got too quiet.

“Don’t cry too long or the Commander will chew me out,” Zeke called back to Reiner, who remained in the dirt.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder as Pieck continued to pull her along, her eyes falling onto Reiner as Bertholdt helped him onto his feet.

Becoming a Warrior was a privilege, Y/N knew that. But why would anyone want to shorten their life to a 13 year term dedicated to fighting Marley’s enemies?

Y/N didn’t want to die in 13 years, she’d rather take the hatred from Marley for the rest of her life, like many others had done before her.

If she had a choice, that was exactly what she would do. But it was too late now.

In a few years, she would be an official Marleyan Warrior, headed for the devil’s island to attack their self imposed century long quarantine.

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to the sky, as a bird flew overhead leaving her to wonder what the island devils were doing in this moment.

Did they really deserve what was coming?

The weeks leading up to Y/N being sent to Paradis all passed by in a blur, whether it was the shock of finally being an honorary Marleyan or the memories of the former host that kept her awake at night, Y/N wasn’t sure.

All she knew was that she was on Paradis Island, headed with Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt and Marcel to break through the wall that kept the devils safe from the Titans Marley had filled the island with over the past century.

Did they really deserve what was coming? Did they deserve it? Did they-

“Y/N, can you?” Bertholdt held the can in Y/N’s direction as he whispered.

Y/N carefully took the unopened can of food from his shaky hands, peeling it open before handing it back. She had been doing it for him the past few nights, his hands too shaky to even open a simple can as it came closer and closer to the day he would kick through the wall.

It couldn’t be easy being the successor for the Colossal Titan, a god of death.

“You alright?” Y/N questioned quietly, taking note of the fear in his eyes.

Bertholdt quickly averted his gaze, letting out a hum as he nodded his head.

He was always quiet like this, and Y/N found it oddly calming. It was a nice difference when compared to the louder members of their unit back in Marley.

It was nice because it reminded her of Pieck, who had stayed behind with Zeke to protect Marley while the others attacked Paradis.

“We didn’t cover much ground tonight,” Marcel commented as he poked at the fire with a stick.

“Can’t do much about the clouds.”

“Will the King really not use the Founding Titan, even if we break the wall?” Bertholdt asked, remembering what they had been told in preparation for their mission.

“What’s the use asking now?” Reiner glanced at him. “Trust Marley’s research.”

Y/N stares at the fire in front of her, one hand coming up to rest against her forearm, right where the material band showing her status would be sitting if she were back in Marley.

It felt weird to not have that constant reminder that she was nothing but Titan shifting scum.

“That’s right. We can’t turn back,” Marcel nodded. “Tomorrow, we reach the wall… and then…”

Y/N remained silent, a shaky breath falling from her lips. Right, tomorrow they would be breaking through the Wall. They’d come face to face with the people they were sent to kill.

It’s not like they haven’t done it before, they were sent to destroy an enemy base as part of their Titan training.

But those people had been actively trying to harm Marley… the devils hadn’t done that in over a century.

Reiner’s eyes scanned the group, a shocked expression painted over his face. “Huh? What? Are you having second thoughts about killing the devils? Have you forgotten what they’ve done?!”

Y/N hugged her legs close to her chest, refusing to look in Reiner’s direction or answer his question.

It was impossible to forget the sins of the Eldians, it had been drilled into their heads for years now, after all.

Reiner stood up quickly. “We’re the world’s chosen Warriors sent to punish the island devils!”

Marcel averted his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Reiner, I’m sorry. You were never meant to be chosen as a Warrior,” Marcel continued.

Y/N’s head shot in the boy’s direction, her eyes widened. She couldn’t say it was a surprise, no, Reiner was the weakest of the warriors in their unit.

Maybe it was a shock?

Marcel’s voice came out like it hurt him to finally admit it. “I talked you up and criticised my brother to influence their decision. I… just want to protect my brother.”

Tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reiner… I’m sorry!”

Y/N turned to see Reiner’s frozen form, unmoving and engulfed by shock— it was the same thing he did when he watched Marcel get eaten by a Titan.

Frozen, unmoving, and engulfed by shock.

Y/N could still hear Marcel’s screaming, as the other warriors ran for their lives.

Her chest felt heavy as they finally came to a stop, her knees giving out beneath her as she fell to the grass. Teardrops falling against her clenched fists.

How long had she been crying for?

She couldn’t tell, not when she was too focused on escaping the mindless titan that devoured Marcel before their very eyes.

She choked back the sob that threatened to fall from her lips as she realised what they had done; they could’ve saved Marcel, they should’ve saved Marcel, but they ran.

And they lost the Jaw Titan.

Marley was going to kill them, they weren’t even going to reach the end of their 13 year term. They were going to die for failing the mission before even reaching the walls.

Would it even be worth it if they came back with the Founding Titan but not the Jaw Titan? They’d still be left with the same number as before.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt a hand press against her back, though she relaxed just slightly as she realised it was Bertholdt.

He looked just as terrified as her.

As Annie caught up to the group, she immediately kicked Reiner, causing the boy to start screaming as he moved away in fear.

“Not bad,” Annie spoke, her voice coming out almost breathlessly from the running. “This is a first. You actually beat me… in a long distance race…”

Y/N wiped her tears away as she pushed herself up, looking back in the direction they had come from.

“If we took out that Titan we wouldn’t have lost Jaw,” Annie told Reiner. “Shit! Now Marcel’s gone for good.”

“They said there wouldn’t be Titans this far out,” Reiner whispered.

“We’ve gotta go home,” Annie averted her gaze. “Let’s find Jaw and leave. They would’ve changed back to human. Besides, without Marcel to lead, this mission is doomed.”

“Do you… do you think they’ll just come willingly?” Y/N breathed out, still trying to catch her breath.

Though just as Y/N moved to follow Annie, Reiner began to yell. “We can’t!”

Y/N turned around, her eyes widening as Reiner held his outstretched hand in their direction. “We can’t go home! We’ve gotta continue the mission!”

“Oh, yeah…” Annie’s eyes narrowed in his direction for a moment. “If we go back now, you’ll just get eaten by the next Warrior.”

Reiner began nodding his head.

Y/N looked away from the boy, biting her trembling lip gently. Porco was the next warrior… he would see Reiner’s memories, see his brother getting eaten…

“You think only I will?” Reiner spoke up, causing the other three to turn back to him. “That only I’ll get the blame for running away? You guys are certain you won’t get eaten, too?”

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in the back of her dried throat, an uneasy feeling returning to the pit of her stomach as she stared at Reiner’s grim face.

“Catching Jaw won’t be easy either. If they used its power and ran, our titans could never catch up.”

“They can’t control it right after becoming-”

“You controlled the Colossal Titan, no problem!” Reiner cut Bertholdt off. “Anyways, we’re doomed at this rate! Without the Founding Titan, there’s no going home!”

He was right, Y/N realised. None of them could catch up with the Jaw Titan, and if they returned empty handed, they would all die.

“Back there, if you were a fraction as calm as you are now, we wouldn’t have lost Marcel or Jaw,” Annie stated. “But you’ve got no problem intimidating us to save your own ass, huh?!”

Walking back toward Reiner, she let out a shout as she kicked the boy in the face, sending him flying backward onto the ground.

“How about you come clean to Magath?! Tell him, “it’s all my fault!” Honorary Marleyan, my ass!” She shouted, continually kicking him over and over again. “Chosen warrior, my ass! Marleyans, Eldians! They’re all liars! Everyone only thinks about themselves!”

Y/N remained silent, knowing Annie was right. The predicament they were in now could’ve been avoided had Reiner remained calm back then.

Marcel died saving him, after all.

If Reiner had just sucked it up, if he just didn’t let what Marcel said get to him, they would’ve been long gone before the Titan even woke up from its slumber.

“Should we… should we stop her?” Bertholdt glanced at Y/N.

Y/N stared at Annie who kept kicking Reiner in her anger, before she looked to Bertholdt and shook her head. “Annie’s right.”

“If you feel guilty, just die! Take all the blame and die!”

With that, Annie began to walk away, leaving Reiner face first on the ground, blood pooling on the grass beneath his face.

A perk of being a Titan shifter was that they could all heal from wounds like that.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Reiner pushed himself up, jumping at Annie and holding her in a headlock. “Reiner is dead,” he spoke. “If we need Marcel, then I’ll be Marcel.”

Y/N’s throat went dry once more as she stared at Reiner in fear, her hands shaking at her sides.

“Please, stop this…” Bertholdt muttered, tears falling from his eyes as he watched.

“This is the only way we’ll be able to go back home!” Reiner kept his grip on Annie. “Let’s go back… together… to our hometown!”

[haileyyanneupton]

fairytale 🧚‍♂️ 🪄

in which Hailey realises that maybe — just maybe — love isn’t a complete scam after all. 

upstead oneshot (hailey upton x jay halstead)

warnings: mention of sexual assault

masterlist | series masterlist 

Hailey had always found it disgustingly cheesy when the books she would read would describe falling in love as something that happened "hard and fast." She just didn't believe in it. Maybe it was because she had never really been in love — at least not in the way that the fairytales made it out to be — or maybe it was just some ploy to set every little girl's expectations far, far too high.

They were sitting in his car one day, checking out a suspect that looked good for a double homicide when it happened. He had made some stupid joke and of course, Jay being Jay had cracked up laughing at his own sense of humor. It wasn't the joke that made her fall, but the way his eyes lit up in amusement and happiness — genuine happiness too, not that knock off shit. It was the way his head turned to face Hailey without any hesitation to see if she was laughing too; the way to him, she was the only person that mattered. It left her a feeling little winded and a little bit like she was floating, but she didn't mind. Right there, in the passenger seat of his car with binoculars in her hand is where she realised that sometimes, with the right person, you could indeed fall hard, and you could fall fast. The first time she met him, it was no secret to anybody that she wasn't too fond or Mr Jay Halstead to say the least. He had that cocky smile that could piss her off to no end, but what bothered her most was just how hard it was to hate him. She'd be lying if she said she didn't have a vendetta against attractive detectives in the CPD — every time she had allowed herself to like them, even if it were just platonically, she'd always wind up getting hurt. That was why she tried to keep her distance from Jay to begin with — but alas, just as fate would have it, Erin's unexpected departure had left Hailey partnered with the detective she had told herself she would stay away from at all costs. Her painted hatred didn't last long. After even just their first proper shift together, Hailey found herself bending over backwards to make her new partner's life a little bit easier after a case they had been working had gone sideways, Jay's 9mm behind the death of a young girl that had hit him pretty hard. She managed to get a read on him right away — he was so scared, so broken — even Hailey knew that the unfortunate ending to a case had to be just the tip of the iceberg. She wasn't going to fix him — that wasn't her job — but she was going to fight like hell until he could do it himself. She knew what it was like to be there, she remembered how awful it felt; she wouldn't wish it upon anybody, much less her partner who she was becoming strangely fond of with each passing moment. Their first few months working together flew by, but that didn't mean that it had been uneventful. Hailey and Jay had grown close relatively quickly, their personalities gelling together like no other. It was nice to know that someone had your back, but for Hailey, who had somewhat left an entire life behind her when she joined intelligence, their first major challenge as partners came when Ronald Booth inserted himself back into the scene. Really, she knew that she should have expected Jay to do what he had and dig up all that he could find on Booth the second he got a whiff that something had gone on between him and Hailey, but alas; all she wanted was to be seen as who she had worked her entire life to become. Someone who was strong, independent — not someone who allowed themselves to be taken advantage of, someone who ended up in the hospital because she couldn't fight off some old guy. When her stubbornness had reared its head and landed both her and Jay back in Booth's warehouse for a last ditch attempt at undermining him, things turned ugly — and fast. It all happened so fast. One moment, they were about to make the exchange — the next, she was being shoved into a car door while being checked for a wire. His hands against her — god, she could still feel his dirty, disgusting touch from that New Years Eve party like it was yesterday. She had gotten so close to forgetting, so close to pushing it down just far enough so that she wouldn't have to think about it, but when he ran his hands up and down her legs and groped her with such a hunger that her breath hitched in her throat and bile rose, burning her oesophagus and leaving a bad taste in her mouth, she simply couldn't forget. She almost let herself slip back to that night — him on top of her, his weight enough to keep her from moving — but the sound of Jay's voice behind her kept her anchored right where she was as she breathed through it. One more second, and it's over. That's all. Just one more second. "Come on, man. You don't gotta do it like that." There was silence for a moment. You know the kind. The kind that fills the air in the eye of a storm, right before everything goes from bad to worse. Still, no matter how prepared you are for everything to turn to shit again — it's never really ever enough. "Gun! He's got a gun!" "I don't have a gun, man —" she could hear the panic in Jay's voice. "Take it easy! I don't have a gun!" "Back it up!" "I don't have a gun!" Booth was distracted. His hands were still on her, but his grip had loosened. His hand was resting on her hip now rather than grabbing it, and with his attention diverted to the situation unfolding behind them, she took her chance and ran with it. Her elbow collided with his nose as she twisted his arm back in a shape that arms were definitely not meant to go in, a distinct crack echoing through the air for a split second before the sound of two much louder pops overpowered it. She had pulled the trigger faster than she had been able to process, and before she knew it, Tyler had hit the ground and was gasping for air he wouldn't get no matter how hard he tried. Hailey couldn't even turn around before Booth was gone — but she wasn't about to let him get away that easy. He found her before she found him, which was definitely not the way she wanted it to go. Her back hit the wall first, followed by her head hitting the railing of a staircase as he threw her around like a ragdoll. What infuriated her more than anything was how easy it was for him to do it, her body hitting different corners of each stair as she fell down them. Hailey's legs were flailing around methodically, aiming for all of the weak spots as she tried everything she had been taught (and a bit more) to get the upper hand. Finally, she regained her footing, but it wasn't long before he had her by the shoulders and was slamming her up against every wall he could find yet again. Bang. "I knew you were a cop!" Booth growled dangerously, his tone venomous with fury. "I just didn't want to believe it!" Bang.

"Believe it!" With a quick and smooth movement, she finally had some kind of control as she took the position of the slammer, and not the slammee. She was so angry, the adrenaline rushing through her veins so quickly that she threw punch after punch without feeling a thing, a small smirk curling the corners of her lips upwards as it was Booth's turn for a little trip down the stairs. He was halfway unconscious by this point, but she didn't care — he was right where she wanted him now. "Admit you killed Garrett!" Booth smiled a sick grin as he let out a hearty laugh that made Hailey nauseous. "You'll never find him." She felt the anger and white hot, blinding rage bubbling up inside of her, choking her, clawing at her throat as she held the gun to Booth's face. She would never forget the feeling of her finger brushing up against the temptation of the trigger over and over and over again, or the myriad of thoughts rushing through her head. One squeeze of the trigger, and he's gone, Hailey. You could end this right here, right now. Garrett. What about Garrett? Booth is the only one who knows where Garrett is, Hailey — don't kill him! But he's right here, and the gun. . . it's right here in my hands and —

"Hailey!" Jay's voice started out loud, but faded into a whisper. "Hailey. Hailey." Her breathing was heavy, and even though his voice had snapped her out of whatever rage she was in, part of her wanted to jump right back into it and finish the job. Hailey's blue eyes were trained on Booth like it was life or death, never flicking away from the man for even a second. "Hailey —" Jay tried to coax his partner this time; he knew if this continued on the way it looked like it was going to, things wouldn't end well.  "He wins if you do it. This is not how you beat this." His hand was on her shoulder, following the rapid rising and falling of her chest as she held the gun firmly in place. her fingers were trembling but she showed no fear, a ferocious, burning flame in her eyes. She was not done yet. She wasn't. "Please, Hailey, please." He was desperate now; she could tell by the way his grip tightened ever so slightly at the same time that his voice changed. "Please. This is not the way. You — You gotta trust me." It was the pleading that struck her hard enough to really realise what she was doing. It was the pleading that gave her the strength to fight against the rage and finally swing her right leg off of the scum beneath her and growl at him to get up, the sight of him struggling providing her with a secret, visceral pleasure that she would never be able to explain. But when he sat up a bit too quickly for Hailey's liking, the woman deciding that the awful man hadn't suffered quite enough yet, her boot collided with his face one last time before walking her right out of the stairwell. If she stayed, she knew one person would be coming out in a body bag and the other in handcuffs.  She had a feeling she knew which she would be in.

Jay and Hailey's relationship shifted after that night, but neither of them viewed it as a bad thing. There was something about trauma and tragedy that tends to bring people together in some bittersweet way, and despite the fact that they each had their own perspective of what had happened in that warehouse, both of them knew that without the other, things could have ended much worse. It was soon after that that their 'thing' started. Drinks at whichever bar was closest quickly became a regular occurrence, but during the summertime when the crowds got a bit too crowded for either of their liking, they found themselves more and more often bypassing the bar all together by picking up a 6 pack of beer and retiring back to one of their apartments instead. 

After a few times, Jay had compiled a bunch of clothes that he either did wear anymore or that no longer fit him and had left them folded up in the dresser of the guest bedroom for Hailey, who frequently would crash in her partner's guest room after a long night. She secretly loved the scent of his cologne on the neckline of his hoodies that she'd sleep in, though she'd never admit it to her or anybody else — especially once she noticed how much better she slept when she had one on.  

Fast forward a few months, and that's when it happened. That was when her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach from the realisation of what had just happened in a matter of seconds as she sunk back down in her seat ever so slightly, her brain screaming with a million different emotions. She had been quick to mask it, turning her head to look out the window until before she knew it, she was looking back at the dark haired man so intensely that she thought if she looked away for even a second, he'd disappear. Looking turned into kissing, and kissing turned into a personal hour which lead to a little bit more. The whole time though, in amongst everything else, one thought stuck out more than the rest. 

This is your fairytale, Hailey, she thought. This right here is your happy ending. It's him.

a/n: sorry it’s not very long, and that the ending reads kind of rushed, but i’m actually sorta proud of this one aaaa???? i hope you all like it!! might do a part two 👀 

tagging: @ruzek-halstead @detective-buttercup @lissethsrojas @justanotheronechicagofan​ did y’all ask to get tagged? no but i’m tagging y’all anyway bc i value each and every one of u and my tags are reserved for awesome ppl only so 🥰

[ignitedbynatsu]

Violence Is Not The Answer... Or Is It?

A/N: I really let myself go with this one 🤭 @whatismatildethinkingabout I hope you like it! I’m sorry if you don’t want it as a prequel to your previous request I just had this idea and wanted to write it out 😅 thank you for requesting and the support! Don’t hesitate to stop by again! ❤️

Warnings: bullying, swearing, violence

Genre: angst with some comfort

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

There was a new confidence brewing inside of Noah. The kids from Fairy Tail being the main reason for it. The way they showed that they were willing to learn sign language for him, someone they had never talked to before, melted his heart. It showed him that it was okay to be different. That he shouldn't be ashamed of his hearing loss. In fact, he slowly but surely started to accept it.

To prove that he was getting more independent, he wanted to show his parents that he was capable of going to town with just his friends. To say that Laxus and you were hesitant about this idea at first was an understatement, but when you saw the determination in his eyes, you couldn't refuse. He'll have to learn sooner or later, eventually. 

"Be back by sunset!" Lucy called after her daughter who was basically jumping at the entrance of the guild, ready to go.

You chuckled softly at their antics before turning to your son. "Be careful, okay? You do not need to feel ashamed if it gets scary or overwhelming and you wanna come back. Stay close to Nalu, okay?" You moved your hands accordingly to represent every word you spoke.

'I promise, I love you mommy' he promised before giving you a big hug.

Anxiousness filled your whole body as you watched your boy leave the guild with his new friends.

"They'll be fine, the kids will look out for him" Levy reassured you as she noticed your lingering stare.

"Nalu promised me she'll keep an extra eye on him. She feels responsible, saying it's her duty because she's the oldest" Lucy offered you a kind smile.

"Thank you. I'm so proud of him, and yet I'm terrified. After all, it's only been a couple of weeks since he opened up to the others" You confessed as you broke your gaze away from the big wooden doors to look at your friends.

"That's normal. I felt the same when the twins first went out" Juvia also joined the small group of mothers. "You just gotta trust him and the others. I'm sure everything will be fine"

However, after not even an hour in Magnolia, Noah had already lost the group in the sea of people. Sunday's were the busiest days for the town due to the market.

Looking for his small body in the crowd was near too impossible and calling out to him was also not an option, however, the Fairy Tail children did not intend to give up on their new friend. Partially because they were scared to face their parent's wrath, but mostly because they couldn't fathom how scared he must be.

Noah's eyes darted around him in a desperate attempt to catch even a glimpse of the others, but it was hopeless. They were nowhere in sight.

While scanning his surroundings, the smaller mage wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, resulting in him bumping into someone.

"Watch where you're going, loser" the older boy snapped at Noah who didn't understand a word he was saying. "What? You're not even going to apologize?"

The child moved his hands to spell out that he was sorry and couldn't understand him, but this only made the elder boy laugh "guys, take a look at this, we got ourselves a deaf kid"

His friends soon surrounded Noah, making him cower in fear at so many unknown faces and no way to communicate. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

A hand firmly pushed Noah forward, signalling him to follow what he presumed was their 'leader' to a more abandoned street.

Fear washed over him as he took in his unknown surroundings. What were they gonna do to him? That question was quickly answered as soon as he got pushed down to the ground.

"I heard some money rattling" a girl from the group piped up as they stood a bit more to the side, shielding the event that was happening before them from prying eyes.

Sure enough, Laxus and you had given him some money to buy something he'd fancied at the market, but that got quickly snatched away the moment the remark left the girls mouth.

In a desperate attempt to take back the money, he let electricity crackle around his fingers ready to shoot it at the boy in front of him, but it was futile. The boy noticed the spark and stepped on his hand in an attempt to make him stop, this earned him a cry from Noah. From that moment, he decided it was best to not agitate them further and to just obey them to the best of his abilities. 

The elder boy removed his foot from Noah's hand and crouched in front of him, tilting his head slightly to the side as he observed the scared child in front of him "you really are pathetic aren't ya? No hearing, not being able to stand up for yourself, and apparently your magic isn't even that good. People like you don't belong here. You're a hindrance. A weight that drags people down. No wonder why mommy and daddy left you to wander the streets alone"

Even though Noah couldn't hear a thing, the way the leaders' friends laughed when he was done talking, was enough proof that he had said something to mock him.

"Oi! What the fuck do you think you're doing" Nalu voice ringed through the nearly empty street. 

"Shit, it's the Fairy Tail kids" one of the members mumbled as they took notice of the said children.

Their leader glanced at Noah one last time before motioning his group to follow him "let's just go"

Tobi and Mei were quickly by Noah's side, examining his wounds, while Nalu's eyes trailed the retrieving group, her orbs were swimming with hatred. How could anyone do such a thing? Let alone to such an innocent kid like Noah.

The shaken up child finally let out the sobs he was holding in for so long, clinging on to Mei in the process who was softly stroking his hair. Her eyes shot to the others in an attempt to ask for help. "Let's go somewhere else"

Tobi carefully helped Noah up as they followed Nalu to a more secluded place in the park, giving them the privacy they needed. "Noah, what happened?" Mei carefully matched her hand movements with what she was saying as they all waited patiently for his response.

After his explanation, he made the other children promise to not tell their parents what happened. He didn't want to feel like he was an even bigger burden than he already was. Even though he was still very young, he knew his parents had to go out of their way so many times just so they could satisfy his needs. He felt selfish and stupid. Why wasn't he just normal? All the confidence that he had built up over the past weeks had crumbled down in just this one moment.

Once Noah had calmed down, they decided it was best if they headed back to the guild. Defeated and unsure what to do with the situation, they each went their separate ways when they set foot in Fairy Tail.

At first, the parents didn't think anything strange from it, but when Noah broke all contact with the others and went back to his insecure and timid self, they knew something was up.

You had tried talking to him, trying to break down his walls that were seemingly higher than before, but he always shut you down, burying his head deeper in your side in an attempt to avoid confrontation. In a final attempt to understand what was going on, you voiced your concerns with the other mothers, who in their turn questioned their kids.

It was only when the youngest, Kai, Levy and Gajeel's kid, broke down, that they realised that this wasn't just an ordinary fight or dispute.

"Nalu, enough with this so-called 'everything is fine act'. You tell us what's going on right now. I won't ask again" she knew that when her father got involved and serious, the situation was way graver than what she had originally anticipated.

"Noah got separated from us at one point when we were walking around the market. We did everything we could to find him, but when we did, we saw that he was getting bullied by some older kids" she confessed with her eyes cast to the ground, she was ashamed that she couldn't fulfil her promise to look out for Noah. Nalu didn't care that she broke her promise to Noah. She didn't like that he was distancing himself from them again. If getting the adults involved meant getting their friend back, so was willing to take the risk.

Noah was placed on your hip, hands clutching your shirt as if his life depended on it. He knew they were talking about him, about what had happened. He couldn't be mad at Nalu for breaking their promise 'cause he knew the truth had to come out sooner or later. He just wished it would've been later.

"I'm going to murder that punk" Laxus seethed as he thought about how scared Noah must've felt at that moment. How could anyone do such a thing and think it's okay?

"That's not an option, and you know it. I'm just as upset as you are, but violence is not the answer." You stated calmly as you rocked your body softly along with Noah's.

"How can you say such a thing when they hurt our son!? How can you be so calm about this?" Laxus fumed, unable to understand how you weren't as livid as him. Truth be told, you were nowhere near calm, in fact, you were just as livid as him, but you had to keep your cool. If you'd let your emotions take the upper hand, you'd just upset Noah more, and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Stop it. Both of you." Lucy hissed "Fighting amongst yourselves isn't going to help this situation, nor is it going to help Noah"

"You're right" you agreed "We're going home. I don't need you to upset him even more. Come back when you've cooled down" With that, you left the guild with Noah still on your hip, your arms wrapped around him a little tighter than normal. 

"Unbelievable" Laxus sighed in frustration at your attitude.

"Look, I know where you're coming from, but (Y/N) is right, violence isn't the answer" Gajeel stated, earning a sharp glare from the blonde before continuing "but, no harm is done when we go pay them a visit and I don't know... Maybe threaten them a bit, am I right?"

The sinister glint that sparked in the iron dragon slayer was enough to get Laxus to agree along with the other fathers. Those kids had chosen the wrong child to mess with.

You can only imagine the shock Noah and you experienced when those bullies stopped by the guild the next day to apologize for what they had done. They even had learned how to say sorry in sign language.

"Laxus" you narrowed your eyes at your husband "what did you do"

"I didn't use violence if that's what you're asking" he smirked as he slung an arm around your shoulder "you didn't say anything about threatening, though"

You were about to scold him, telling him how even though you did absolutely not condone those bullies their actions, especially since it was against your child, they were still just kids, but you quickly shut up when Nalu stepped in and swung her right arm forward, her right fist colliding with the nose of the group's leader.

Nalu, Tobi and Kai stood in front of them while Mei stood next to Noah, explaining everything that was being said with her hands "They may only be able to threaten you 'cause they're adults and you're still just children, but that doesn't count for us" Nalu's eyes held the same rage when she first laid eyes on them when they stood over Noah's defenceless body.

"If you ever dare to lay a hand on our friend again, we won't hesitate to break more than just your nose, are we clear?" Tobi finished their threat.

"Yes," his eyes were wide, like a deer that got caught in headlights. His friends all cowered behind him. 

"Now scram!" Kai yelled at which they hurriedly made their way out of the guild.

As on cue, all the kids their names were called out by their mothers, each and every one of them earning a scolding, while their fathers were stood on the side, stifling their laughter and a look of pride plastered upon their face.

Noah looked at his friends with newfound wonder. They stood up for him. They thought that he was deserving enough to get in trouble for. They called him their friend.

As tears were forming in the brim of his eyes, he ran forward to his friends, not caring if they were in the middle of getting scolded and tackled them all in a hug.

A sob passed Noah's lips, letting out all the stress and emotions that he had cropped up since the incident. This resulted in an even tighter group hug from the others.

Noah was the first to break apart 'thank you all for what you did to me' his hand moved ever so smoothly as he told them how grateful he was even though words, or even hand gestures, couldn't describe how he truly felt.

"That's what friends are for" another hug followed as soon as Mei's hands stopped moving.

"I guess violence was the option" Laxus mumbled in your ear as he hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder in the progress.

"Don't ruin the moment" you flicked his head softly, earning a chuckle from him.

Fairy Tail had proven once again that they weren't just a guild filled with friends, no, they were a family. A family you do not want to mess with.

[wingsofhcpe]

whumptober day 4- taken hostage/pushed

fandom: shadow & bone

pairing: fivan [ivan x fedyor kaminsky]

rating: T+

additional warnings: blood & injury, torture (implied?)

you can also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34208404/chapters/85114393

[tagging @camilleisback upon request <3]

Fedyor clung to the roof with all his might; and yet he knew there was no meaning in any of it. No matter how hard he tried, he’d eventually fall. To the shadows that awaited below, to his death.

‘You should have known it would end like that.’ The nichevo’ya that held him over the edge by the collar of his torn and bloodied kefta spoke with the voice of a man he once knew. The voice of a man he once trusted, he once followed, he once believed could save Ravka and the Grisha.

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

The creature pushed him further from the roof until his fingers lost what little purchase they had on the jagged, broken stones. The ground loomed below him, dark and swirling with darkness and death. The gaping wound on his shoulder, where the nichevo’ya’s claws had pierced and torn his skin, throbbed with a burning, merciless kind of pain.

‘But I have use of you yet.’ The creature drawled in a manner that was terrifyingly expressive for the whirling mass of shadow and hatred that it was. ‘You will not yet be killed, Fedyor Kaminsky. But you will suffer for your betrayal.’

The creature’s grip loosened before Fedyor had even registered the words; and then he was falling, the air rushing around him, the stars glaring down at him as he glimpsed them between plumes of smoke and shadowy wings. He heard a Grisha scream, he heard Alina’s voice barking orders, he heard Zoya ordering a retreat. He heard his own heart, thumping loudly against his ears.

Then his body hit the ground, and the world exploded in a flash of pain and darkness.

-

His own scream woke him up.

Fedyor’s eyes snapped open, his chest rising and falling erratically as he breathed in deep gulps of oxygen. He was drowning, he was suffocating in the darkness- but the worst was the pain. Oh Saints, how everything hurt. Everything -his legs, arms, his back- felt broken, his wounds raw and bleeding and burning. He cried out again, his body instinctively straining against the agony- but he was met with resistance, thick coils of rope digging into his skin and causing a million explosions of fire across his ravaged body. He fell still in a desperate effort to minimise the pain, and focused on the pattern the red, white and black tiles formed at the ceiling above him. He forced himself to count the black ones; one, two, three…

Belatedly, Fedyor recognised a familiarity in the pattern; he soon realised the room he was being held in, was none other than the infirmary wing of the Little Palace. But- that couldn’t be. They’d been running away from Kirigan. They’d been fighting, knowing that the battle had been lost-

‘But I have use of you yet. You will not yet be killed, Fedyor Kaminsky.’

Kirigan’s words, delivered to him through one of his shadow soldiers, rang through Fedyor’s mind. So, then, this was his punishment. To be taken away from his allies, his friends, to suffer at the hands of the enemy, and finally, to be killed as an example of what happened to all those who dared oppose the mighty Black General. Well, then, so be it. He was ready to die for what he believed in; he had been ready to die for what he believed in, from the moment he first joined the Second Army. Such was the life of a Grisha- none of them lived long enough. Their best hope was for their death to mean something. And if Fedyor’s could buy the Resistance some time to regroup, he would die happy. He would die knowing he had helped save Ravka and the Grisha.

But oh- why , why did it have to hurt so much? Was it too much to ask, that he would just be allowed a painless death? He had never been scared of death (not his own, anyway; he had been afraid for others) but pain- he feared it. It wasn’t something he could see or even fight. It wasn’t an enemy facing down at him. It was something within him, something that he could not retaliate against, something he could not protect himself and others from. It made him feel trapped, caged, the walls of the room pressing in, his body shivering against the rope that held him tied down to the cot, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t even move his hand to wipe them off.

An image flashed in his addled mind; Ivan, sitting next to him in this same infirmary, if not in this very bed. He recalled how Ivan had held his hand while he was recovering from a particularly serious injury. How he had whispered words of comfort, how he’d used his powers to ease Fedyor’s pain and slow his heartbeat, lulling him into sleep, where nothing more could hurt him. Where was his Vanya now? Was he even alive? It had been so long since Alina’s spies had heard word of his whereabouts. Had he even been present during the attack at the Little Palace? Did he know Fedyor was there, suffering, silently begging for his presence? Would he care? Would he try to stop Kirigan from torturing him further? Did Fedyor even mean anything to him, at this point?

He did not know. He didn’t even know if he wanted to learn the answer to all these questions. All he knew was that he was tired, that it hurt, that he just wanted to sleep. Forever, if possible.

For all his anguish, the Saints must have decided to show kindness just this once. Slowly, Fedyor’s strength abandoned him. His eyelids drooped and darkness closed in, reclaiming him once again.

He submitted willingly to it, and prayed to never again wake up.

-

Darkness. Pain. Screaming. He didn’t know where he was.

A familiar heartbeat amongst the shadows. A voice so familiar, so treasured.

Someone yelling. The unmistakable sound of bodies thudding to the floor.

And then darkness again, a reprieve. Relief. The pain seemed to stop.

The darkness beckoned, and he followed.

-

When he next woke up, it felt as if he had been asleep for an eternity. His throat was parched, his joints so stiff he felt as if he’d been trapped in ice. Memories and fragments of dreams or nightmares mixed within his mind, to the point where he didn’t know what was real, and what had only been a figment of his imagination.

“Fedya?”

Oh- that was real. Or at least, Fedyor prayed it was. Because…

“V-Vanya…?” he croaked, wincing at the scraping sound of his voice. Saints, what wouldn’t he give for even a single sip of water. He forced his tired eyes to open, only so he could confirm for himself that this was real, this was not a dream, and Ivan was really there.

As a matter of fact, Ivan was there, in all his gruff, grumpy glory. But he was rumpled in a way Fedyor had never seen before; he was unshaven, rough beard covering his sharp, angular features. There were dark circles under his hazel eyes, that now seemed to have sunk into his skull, and a fresh scar ran across the right side of his face, from his forehead to the tip of his jaw. His clothes were tattered, and, perhaps the thing most shocking to Fedyor, he was no longer wearing his kefta. As soon as Fedyor’s eyes had focused enough, he realised Ivan’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Fedya- oh, thank the Saints. Thank the Saints.”

His large, calloused hand rested on the side of Fedyor’s face, and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry.” Ivan whispered, his voice breaking at the end. Fedyor was positive he had never seen him so distressed before. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Vanya- what?” Fedyor still felt disoriented, as if he’d been stuck inside a jar of honey and was just now beginning to resurface, the world still sticky and muddled around him. He didn’t know what was happening, where he was, he could barely remember the last time he’d woken up…

…ah. Right, the battle at the Little Palace. Falling. Pain. Kirigan. Darkness, despair. Crying out for Ivan as pain consumed his every fibre.

Ivan drew back after a few moments and swiped furiously at his eyes, erasing every trace of the tears that had been there only seconds earlier. But his clear hazel eyes were still heavy with sorrow and guilt. He settled next to Fedyor on what the latter realised was a cot, but his hand found his partner’s and laced their fingers together.

“I… I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Ivan said after a short, tense silence. When Fedyor nodded, he let out a tired, regretful side. “Let me start by saying I don’t expect you to forgive me. I will not ask you for it. But I want you to know the truth. And the truth is I had no idea what Kirigan was planning to do. He promised he wouldn’t kill you, but I- I was stupid. I didn’t realise what he had in mind. That he would keep you alive, but he’d make you suffer at his hands. It was only after I saw how many Grisha he killed that I truly realised why you had turned away. You were right, Fedyor. You were right as always. I followed a monster. And you, and so many of our friends, paid the price.”

Ivan’s gaze slid away, as if he were unable to look Fedyor in the eye. Fedyor was seized with the sudden desire to grab Ivan by the chin and turn his head towards him. To make him look. Not because of some stupid, petty kind of “I-told-you-so” moment of vindication. But because he could hardly believe Ivan was there, with him. That they were safe and that they were together. That they were both alive. Still, he could detect the turmoil his lover was going through; so he waited, unwilling to force Ivan into something he was not yet ready for. After a few heartbeats, Ivan continued his narration.

“He told me he had a gift for me. I… I was confused. I didn’t know what he meant. He talked about you like you were an object, Fedya. I only started to realise what he meant when he led me towards the infirmary. Saints, my love, I’ve never been as scared as when I saw you tied down on that bed. When I saw just how hurt you were, that your wounds had been left untreated… Kirigan said it was what you deserved for betraying him. But he assured me that he would keep you alive. He planned to use you as a bargaining chip against Alina, so he didn’t plan on killing you. Not yet. He said I could do with you anything I wanted, other than heal you. I could stay with you, but I was not allowed to help you. I wasn’t allowed to use my powers on you, or heal or bring you painkillers, or anything. I couldn’t bear it, Fedyor. I had- I had to get you out. So that’s what I did. I stole a horse, and I killed as many of Kirigan’s oprichniki as I could. I took you, and I ran away. It was all I could think about. We had nowhere else to go… but he cannot seek us here. He holds no power over us so long as we remain beyond the borders.”

Beyond the borders… that had never stopped Kirigan before. Unless-

Cold fear slithered down Fedyor’s spine, paralysing his limbs. “V-Vanya… where… where are we…?”

He watched Ivan’s throat bob as the other man swallowed. His eyes still didn’t meet Fedyor’s.

“We… I took us to Fjerda. To the village where I was born.” He whispered, voice so broken and quiet that for a moment, Fedyor neglected the fact they were in fucking Fjerda.

“Ivan-“ his voice shook, his heart kicking violently against his chest. “Ivan, if anyone finds out what we are, they will burn us alive-“

“You think I don’t know that?” Ivan removed his hand from Fedyor’s, only so he could hide his face in both of his. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake? But I would rather put a bullet at both our heads if a group of druskelle finds us, than let Kirigan anywhere near you again. I would rather I was burned at the stake over and over and over, for all eternity, if it meant you’d be safe from him.”

His voice was raw and breaking with emotion, and Fedyor realised he was close to tears again. His Vanya, who never cried. It grounded him enough to put aside the raging terror that had sprang inside of him at the mention of their location, at least temporarily.

“Vanyusha… I do not blame you-“

“Well, you should.”

“Sush!” Fedyor mustered his most threatening glare, although he was aware the effect was diminished by the fact he was lying in a broken cot, swaddled in a nest of Fjerdan-style woven blankets. “Listen. You didn’t throw me off the roof. You didn’t control the nichevo’ya that nearly tore me apart. And as soon as you found out, you didn’t let Kirigan torture me any further. You saved me, Ivan.”

“After I put you in danger, in the first place.” Ivan muttered dejectedly, and Fedyor groaned.

“Do you think the attack wouldn’t have happened if you had sided with Alina instead? You think Kirigan would stop his entire warmongering plan just because of you? Ivan, you’re important to him, but you’re not that important.”

Ivan snorted quietly, and it sounded a bit like a bitter laugh. “Can’t argue with that. But…”

“No ‘buts’.” Fedyor carefully untangled himself from the blankets and sat up, wincing at the stiffness of his body and the lingering pain of his wounds. However, it was nowhere near comparable to what he remembered from the last time he woke up. He could grit his teeth through it. “Ivan- you might not be important to Kirigan, but you are to me. You’re the most important person in my life. I would never, ever hate you. Not since you came back to me.”

He reached out and took one of Ivan’s hands, pressing his own palm against Ivan’s. Ivan’s eyes slowly slid down to look at their hands, and something in his expression softened, his straining heartbeat uncoiling into a smoother, calmer pace.

“I know I said earlier that I wouldn’t ask you to forgive me, but…” his lips twitched into a bitter smile. “Will it be too much if I ask for it, after all?”

Fedyor’s face broke into a beaming grin at the words. He cupped Ivan’s hands with both his own and squeezed gently.

“All is forgiven, Vanya.” He said softly. Ivan finally got up from the floor, and perched next to Fedyor on the narrow cot. Slowly, he wrapped both arms around the other Grisha and pulled him close- and Fedyor could swear that he melted in relief, as he clung to Ivan’s solid warmth, praying to never have to let go of again. How he’d missed this; the safety, the undisturbed knowing that flowed between them, their synching heartbeats. Nothing else mattered; it didn’t matter that they were in Fjerda; it didn’t matter that he was still in a considerable amount of paint. It didn’t matter they would have to run, at least until Kirigan was defeated. It didn’t matter that they were at war.

“Ya lubyuu tebya.” Fedyor murmured in Old Ravkan, his voice breaking with longing and affection. ‘I love you.’ He wanted to say the words to Ivan over and over again, until there was nothing in the world but their beating hearts, their love, their hushed breaths and stolen kisses.

“And I, you.” Ivan answered reassuringly, one hand tangling itself between Fedyor’s tussled hair and caressing his head. Fedyor melted into the affections, closing his eyes and leaning against Ivan. They stayed like that for a moment, lost within the most peaceful kind of quiet Fedyor had ever known. Then, Ivan withdrew slowly. Fedyor whined, already missing his warmth, but the other Grisha shook his head sternly.

“You need to lie down.” He said matter-of-factly. “I’ve healed whatever I could of your wounds, but your body is still weak. You need to rest, and I’m going to have to keep an eye on that nichevo’ya wound on your shoulder. Your fever only broke yesterday.”

Fedyor sighed; he couldn’t exactly argue with that. He felt weak, his body shaking from the effort of simply sitting up. Slowly, he eased himself back against the mattress and let Ivan wrap him up in Saints knew how many quilts again. At least the previous occupants of this house had been considerate enough to leave a bunch of those behind.

Ivan moved away for a few minutes, then returned with a wooden cup in one hand. It was filled with some kind of a fragrant herbal beverage.

“Here, drink.” He said. He slid one hand under Fedyor’s head and lifted it slowly, putting the brim of the cup against his lover’s cracked, dry lips so he could drink. Fedyor all but groaned with gratitude as he felt the cold liquid wash down his parched throat. He gulped another generous sip, before Ivan pulled away.

“Not too fast, or you’ll get sick.” He warned, and Fedyor huffed childishly, but didn’t complain further. Ivan rolled his eyes and placed the cup on the floorboards by the bed, then settled back into his original position. He lifted a hand and brushed a strand of brown hair from Fedyor’s forehead.

“I like your hair like that.” Ivan said absentmindedly, and Fedyor hummed.

“Like what?”

“Longer.” Ivan said simply. Ah, yeah- he hadn’t had much time to cut it during the weeks before the attack, and if he wanted to be perfectly honest, he’d kind of given up on taking care of himself whatsoever. Genya had called it an effect of depression- maybe she’d been right. But hey, at least Ivan liked the results.

“Hm…” Fedyor winked. “Alright. Maybe I’m going to keep it like that.”

Ivan chuckled. “Yeah, alright. We can talk about it later. For now, can you promise me you’ll rest?”

“Fine, fine. I’m not a child, you know.” Fedyor complained.

“I know.” Ivan sighed. “But you need to rest. You’re hurt.”

“Alright, I get that, but…” Fedyor looked away, colour blooming against his pale cheeks, “can you promise you’ll stay?”

At that, Ivan smiled tenderly. He leaned in, pressing a soft, loving kiss on Fedyor’s lips.

“I promise, my love. I’m not leaving you again.”

[dracosearlgreytea]

indelicate marks (12)

indelicate marks: chapter twelve - the classroom

A/N: heres another update for yall! thanks again for your comments and support... i hope you are all doing well!! - ivy

warnings: language, descriptions of mild pain, mentions of trauma from the previous chapter 

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse @thatoneasrastan @biinspiration @honeymelon22 @bitch-im-a-fangirl

indelicate marks index 

Everything was... hazy. It was an odd feeling of pure serenity. Breathing in, breathing out. Draco's cologne - that was the only thing you could make out. It was so distinctive, so particular, and it only made you feel even more relaxed.   Then, you felt it. The dull throbbing in your head, and the ache of your muscles. Awake. You were awake. Your eyelids felt heavy, and you allowed them to stay shut for a moment. The way your thoughts shifted around in your head was foggy as you attempted to figure out where you were, or what had happened. Exerting yourself into your memories, however, only proved painful. Draco - I was going to meet Draco. After a second longer of attempting to decipher your surroundings you gave up, flicking your eyes open. The classroom. Opening your eyes had only added to the pain, but you stopped yourself from letting them sink shut. The edges of your vision was still a little blurred, but you could make out in general the desks surrounding you. You'd been settled at the window ledge. It was your usual position, now that you and Draco had stopped using the room as a place to practice Legilimency as much, and more as a hangout. The ledge was wide, large enough to fit the both of you, and though the windows were stained, it gave you a small, one way view of the grounds through a crack in the glass. Blinking, feeling within your body had gradually began to return to you, allowing you to recognise someone else's touch on yours. There was a cool, pale hand, resting atop of yours. You blinked again. The buzzing within your ears was more or less gone, and you finally came to search the figure slouched in front of you. Draco. He sat, head drooping - falling asleep, by the looks of it. The last of the light of day bounced off of him, almost making him glow, hair messy and eyes twitching, but closed. Any murmur of returning panic in your chest dissipated at the sight of him. Your first instinct was to squeeze his hand - let him know you'd woken up - but you froze. Up until now, it hadn't occurred to you why you had woken up in the classroom, in the middle of the evening. Or, perhaps, you'd ignored it, not wanting to recall any of what had happened in the corridor. But now, watching Draco drift into a light sleep, the memories had hit you square in the chest. A jolt of panic shot through you, despite your safe surroundings, and you glared down at your left arm. Shirt sleeve fastened, no sign of blood. In fact, the only sign of anything wrong with you was the now much more distant pain in your head. You came to glance at Draco, again. His hand twitched on yours, and almost instinctively, you wrapped your fingers around it. Draco blinked. His head snapped up. The grey of his eyes were misty with sleep, for a moment, before it cleared at the sight of you. Any peace that once settled between you, was about to be broken. "Y/N-" Draco surged forward, arms coming to wrap around you before you could even utter a greeting.   "Draco-" His name left you in the form of a half wheeze, half grimace, bones still heavy as he squeezed you tight. Your heart leapt into overdrive at his touch, freezing, body still on the defensive with recent memories lingering in your head. Draco seemed to notice your pause however, withdrawing - his hands, however, lingered at your shoulders, eyes searching your expression. "How do you feel?" You only stared at him for a second, swallowing. It was painful, really, the way that Draco's touch would usually be so comforting. Any other day, you would have found it hilarious how stone cold Draco Malfoy had practically thrown himself at you. Now, though, it only prompted the return of that stabbing panic. "I - er-" You continued staring at him, until a flicker of realisation flashed across his features. Snatching his hands away from you, you let out a short breath, forcing your lips to twitch upward. "Sorry." You mumbled, gaze flickering from Draco to your lap. "Don't be stupid." Draco said, firm. His jaw clenched in the slightest, eyes not shifting from yours once. "I should know better." The words hit your gut uncomfortably. Another reminder to you that you hadn't been the only one to grow to expect pain, even from those you trusted. Heart squeezing, you fixed him with a softer look. "I feel alright." You spoke, quick to change the subject as you tugged at your sleeve. "Bit of a headache, that's all." Draco's brow drew in a little, but he didn't speak, continuing to watch you with a careful glint in his eye. "You lost a lot of blood." Voice strained, he grimaced. "Are you sure?" "Yes, Draco." Your lips pulled up again. "Madam Pomfrey knows the spell well, by now. I just needed time to... re-cooperate." His eyes flashed, and you paused. "You did take me to the hospital wing, right?" You asked, then, slowly. Draco remained silent, and you faltered, a sense of concern flooding over you. "Draco, what happened?" "No." He stated, almost before you could finish speaking, fixing you with a glare. "I need you to tell me what happened first, before I go mental." Another flash of anxiety flooded through you, chest freezing up at the memories. Potter's expression in your mind was a little blurred - but stained red, painful and red. "I-" Your voice stumbled. Draco's hand twitched in his lap, and you nearly reached out to take it into yours. "I don't think you want to know." His gaze became a little softer, yet a little harder, all at once. "Trust me. I want to know." Eyes falling away from him, you remained silent. Fear sat, lodged in your rib cage, making it hard to breathe again. Being on your own for so long, you'd gotten used to things happening and being able to move on from them quick enough for you not to have to process them. You'd gotten used to no-one really caring. With the way he looked at you, though, you knew now. You knew now that someone did.   You must have hesitated too long, as Draco was quick to speak again. "Did someone see your arm?" Growing rigid, your jaw clenched. Still, you offered him a quick nod, unable to look at him and his intense eyes. "Who?" Still not meeting his gaze, you became only more reluctant to explain anything. Knowing Draco - and especially his hatred for the person in question - he would only get angry. And, right now, you did not want to have to deal with angry. "Y/N." There was a slight warning in Draco's tone this time, and you finally shot a look in his direction. Grey eyes a shade darker, there was already a spark of despise gathering within them, and your throat felt rough as you spoke. "Potter." It didn't take seconds before you could tell - Draco was livid. His hands curled into tight, white balls, jaw clenched. Swallowing, he dragged his eyes off of you altogether, and your heart throbbed with anxiety. "Don't get mad." You whispered, your shaky breath unexpected - but it caused Draco's eyes to flicker back to you instantly. "Not right now. Please." Something in his features tightened even further - attempting to hold back a barrage of rage, no doubt - but then he let out a short breath, remaining seated. You began to attempt an explanation before he could do anything stupid. "He wanted me to prove I wasn't - I wasn't- that I don't have a mark." "And he left you there?" Draco's voice was forced, anger barely restrained within his tone. Worry rising within you,  you shook your head, panicked. "He didn't see me bleeding. He didn't know." You sounded almost desperate, pleading. "He'd disarmed me so I couldn't - I couldn't get my wand and then I -" A shaking gasp escaped you, eyes pricking with hot tears that you didn't even feel tickling the back of your throat. Draco stilled, staring at you with that twitching hand again. But, you only swallowed, blinking back the tears before he could spot them. He must have already, though, because he was practically vibrating with rage beside you, so much that you didn't care about your own terror. Your hand shot out, grasping his shaking hand in yours. "Draco. I'm alright." "Alright?" Draco hissed, unable to even attempt to hide his anger this time. "I found you in a pool of your own fucking blood, Y/N!" You flinched. Draco softened at the shift in your demeanour, falling silent for a brief moment. Swallowing, he relaxed himself a little, shoulders slumping back down a little - only for them to tense again. "You were bleeding still, so I used the spell-" "You what?" "I used the spell, to stop it, but you weren't waking up-" "No, Draco, slow down." You stared up at him, heart practically stumbling into cardiac arrest at this point. "You used the spell?" His lips dug down into a frown. "That's what I just said, isn't it?" An eyebrow flicked up, in a habitual manner. He remembered my spell? And he got it right first try? That's - that's- Your mind was going way too quick for you to comprehend. It felt as though everything around you had frozen, everything except for him. But then, Draco continued. "Anyway, you didn't wake up, so I brought you here. Before anyone could see." Still staring at him, he looked back, scowling. You had his hand tight in yours, heart going at a rate that couldn't be healthy after passing out for so long. It was taking everything, everything, in you not to grab him by that loosened tie around his neck and kiss that stupid look off of his face. "You idiot." What? "What?" Draco had arched an eyebrow again. Of all the things that crossed your mind, those were the words you'd managed to choose? "You - you used my spell? The one you've heard me say, like, twice?" The words stumbled out of your mouth, messy and drenched with disbelief. "And then you carried me here?" Draco still looked as equally as confused as you. "Well, yeah." Another frown. "I don't see how that makes me an idiot." "It's crazy, Draco!" You exclaimed, eyes wide. "You're bloody crazy!" "I don't follow." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you getting mad because I saved your life?" "No-" You gasped out, heart pounding. "No, I just - why would you do that?" "What was I supposed to have done, Y/N?" Draco growled, an incredulous look spreading across his face. "Leave you to bleed out?" Draco Malfoy never ceased to amaze you. You fell silent, staring at each other. His hand was still wrapped in yours, and your heart was still racing. Because, he had came and looked for you when you hadn't shown up. Because he remembered a spell that you'd barely even spoken about, and stayed with you for however long you had been unconscious for, when he didn't have to. He easily could have just gotten someone to take you to the hospital wing - he easily could have never given a second thought about why you'd never turned up for your meeting. Because, the light was still making him look too fucking beautiful, with his sharp features and sweeping statements and Merlin, you were totally, and utterly fucked when it came to him. Before you could stop yourself, you grasped at the back of Draco's neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.

[amythedvdhoarder]

Negotiations

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 2.5K

Summary:  When morning arrives Bucky fears that he has been too rough with you. Little does he know that’s what you like. 

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny bit of angst, fluff and mentions of smut. BDSM vibes. 18+ only

Authors notes: gif not mine. This is written for Dani’s Angst Vs Fluff challenge @stuckonjbbarnes​ to celebrate reaching 1.2K followers. Congrats hun! I picked the make it fluffy prompt “I don’t want your apology” which you can find in italics. Tried something different with this one, a little out of my comfort zone but I hope you like it. Feedback and comments are always welcome so please let me know what you think!

Here is my masterlist if you want to read any of my other Bucky one-shots!

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The pale morning light filtered in through the curtains. Bucky woke and immediately missed the warmth and weight of your body pressed against him. Opening his eyes, he turned onto his side and looked over to your side of the bed. Comforted instantly seeing the covers bunched up around your waist leaving your naked back exposed as you slept on your front. Bucky’s eyes settled on your face. Studying the way your soft lips parted slightly as you breathed, how your eyes flickered behind their closed lids. He observed the stray strand of hair tickled your nose and even how your hand was reaching out towards him. There were lots of things Bucky enjoyed doing in your company, one being the reason you were both naked, but he really loved watching you sleep. He took pride in knowing he was the only one to see you like this, that you trusted him to be so vulnerable in his presence. It made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

His eyes then tracked down your body and memories of last night came flooding back. He had been away on a mission for a couple of weeks. You had stayed up and waited for him until the early hours of the morning for him to return. The mission had been tiring and difficult but when he saw you dressed in one of his old threadbare t-shirts any sign of exhaustion disappeared to be replaced with a longing and desire to show you exactly how much he has missed you. Both of you had lost yourselves in one another. The need to be close overriding everything else. It had been primal, passionate and desperate. Clinging to one another as if your survival depended on it. Bucky couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch you any longer. He moved across the bed and ran his fingers over the back of your hand. You stirred slightly but didn’t fully wake. He then pushed your hair back over your shoulder to reveal your neck.

“Shit!” He shot out of bed and pressed himself against the wall. The loud cursing and the sudden movement brought you out of your slumber. “Buck?” As you opened your eyes lazily you weren’t greeted the calm blue eyes you expected. You adjusted yourself and saw Bucky was stood in the corner of the room. He looked terrified. “Buck what’s up?” All he did was shake his head. “Bucky what’s happened? Talk to me please.” You were still half asleep which didn’t help your confusion. Groaning slightly, you pulled yourself out of bed and walked towards Bucky. His eyes skimmed briefly over you body. He let out an audible gasp and sank to the floor, his head falling into his hands. As you stepped closer he didn’t seem to react, didn’t look up but you saw his fingers dig into his scalp slightly as he pulled at his hair. “Bucky please, what’s happened?” When he looked at you there were tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry doll. I’m sorry. I…I’m…” His words trailed off and he tucked his knees up to his chest, head falling again so that he wasn’t looking at you. Now he was scaring you. “Buck what are you apologising for? I don’t understand.” Your voice was shaking slightly now. Bucky rested his chin on his hand. He didn’t speak but just pointed to the full-length mirror on the wall.

You could feel the pleasant ache in your body as you stepped towards the mirror. Last night had been intense. All the times you had been with Bucky had been incredible but last night had been something else. He had made you see stars more times that you could count, so his behaviour now was alarming. Bucky’s eyes flicked to your face and you stopped in front of the mirror. He was fully prepared for the disgust and hatred that you were going to direct at him in a minute, only comforted knowing that it would be nothing compared to the disdain and self-loathing he was currently feeling.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you saw the evidence of last night smattered all over your body. Small purple and pink marks littered over your breasts from where Bucky had sucked and nipped lightly at the delicate flesh. Similar marks could be found on the inside of your thighs from where he had trailed up before finding his way to your most sensitive spot. There was a dusting of fingerprints on your hips, a little darker than the marks he normally left behind. But you knew it was the prominent hand print covering the skin on the front of your neck that was bothering Bucky the most. He had tried to protest when you asked him use his metal hand on your throat but you persuaded him. Even now looking at your reflection you had no regrets. Bucky clearly believed that he had hurt you, that he had lost control, taken it too far. However, you didn’t feel like that. You could feel Bucky’s eyes boring into you as your fingertips traced over the marks on your neck as small smile forming on your lips.

“Buck, I don’t want your apology.” You picked up the t-shirt laying on the floor, where it had been discarded last night, and pulled it on before walking towards him and kneeling in front of him. He shook his head, not quite able to meet your eyes. “How can you say that? I’ve hurt you Y/N.” Bucky was struggling to keep his voice level. “You didn’t hurt me at all. Not that you’ve noticed but I left my marks on you too.” Your face flushed slightly with embarrassment as you saw Bucky checking over his own body. “I don’t see anything” he grumbled. “That’s because you’re not looking properly.” Crawling over to him, you lifted his right arm. “Here” running your thumb over the faint crescent shape marks on his bicep, left by your finger nails. Bucky scoffed at them. “Here” fingers delicately pressing to the faded bruises on his neck where you had marked him as your own. “Doll, come on” his voice exasperated at your attempt to prove a point. Shaking your head, you pulled him forward from the wall and hands finding what you were looking for. “These definitely hurt more than mine.” Bucky winced as you glided your palms over the scratches on his back. “See.” You kissed his shoulder softly.

He let out a loud sign. “That’s not the point and you know it. I could seriously hurt you.” You mirrored his position, sitting pressed against his side, leaning against the wall with your knees pulled up your chest. Reaching across you carefully picked up his hand, entwining his fingers in yours, your other hand running lightly up and down his forearm. “That’s where your wrong. Yes, you could hurt me. But the fact is you won’t. I trust you. I always have.” His brows furrowed together, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he considered what you had just said. “You know if was enhanced like you it would barely be noticeable.” Bucky groaned and pulled his hand from you. “This isn’t a time to make jokes Y/N. You’re not like me. Last night shouldn’t have happened.” His words shocked you, made you feel small and insignificant. Instinctively you pulled your knees tighter to your chest, trying to numb the hurt now coursing through you. “You regret last night?” The words were barely audible but Bucky heard the pain in your voice. “Shit, no doll of course not. How could you think that?” Tears were threatened to spill. “Let me quote. Last night shouldn’t have happened.” You mimicked bitterly.

Bucky tried to put his arm around you but you pulled away from him. “Doll that’s not what I meant. Don’t for a second think I regret being with you. But I shouldn’t have been so rough. When it comes to you I just lose control a bit.” The tone of his voice made you realise he was telling the truth. Leaning back towards him, this time you let him place his arm around you, your head falling to his shoulder. “You know I would tell you to stop if I couldn’t take it. You need to trust me too Buck.” He rested his head on yours and his fingers traced patterns on your arm. “I know Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Both of you sat like that for a few minutes until an idea came into your head all a sudden. Quickly you shuffled around so you were sat facing Bucky, your feet resting on top of his. “What if we had a safe word?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you. “Safe word?” You nodded feeling a little bit nervous about broaching the topic. “Yes, or a traffic light system. To let each other know whether something was ok, or if it was becoming too much or if we needed to stop.” Bucky considered the offer. “So, you would let me know if I was being too rough?” You chuckled. “Of course, or if I can take a bit more.” Bucky laughed this time, shaking his head at your forwardness. “Okay.” You grinned, offering out your hand to shake. “Deal?” He rolled his eyes at how ridiculous you were but took your hand regardless. “Sure doll, deal.” He kept his grip on your hand and tugged you towards him, your face millimetres from his. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours. You hummed against his mouth as his tongue teased your bottom lip. The growl of your stomach made you reluctantly break the kiss before it could become more heated. Bucky’s forehead pressed against yours. “As much as I want to continue this.” Pausing to press a chaste kiss to his lips again. “I need food.”

You pulled on a pair of Bucky’s sweats and a hoodie before you both headed to the communal kitchen. Bucky’s arm never leaving your waist, keeping you pressed tight against him. “Ah so they’re still alive.” Sam sat smirking at the pair of you from the table. “Is that jealousy I detect Sam?” You hit back at him quickly, Bucky hi-fiving you. “You two are insufferable you know that?” Bucky grinned. “Yeah that’s definitely jealously. You need to get yourself out there man. Aren’t you always saying you’re a ladies man?” Sam grumbled and stuffed some more cereal into his mouth. “Bloody tin man.”

Deciding that you had both teased Sam enough your attention turned to breakfast. “Pancakes?” Bucky asked. But you didn’t hear him, your attention was focussed on the fruit bowl in front of you. “Y/N?” Your eyes snapped up to his. “Pears.” Bucky blinked at you, thoroughly confused. “Pears” you repeated again. “But you hate pears, why would do you want them for breakfast?” You stepped closer, leaning up and whispered in his ear. “Buck, that should be our word.” It dawned on him exactly what you meant. “Oh.” Was all he could manage to stutter out. You pressed your lips to his briefly. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, momentarily distracted as you headed to one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “I’ll take a pear.” Sam called over.  Bucky snapped out of his trance immediately, both you looking at each other before bursting into fits of laughter. Sam walked over, shaking his head at the pair of you before helping himself to some fruit and heading out of the room. “Definitely the word for us doll.” Bucky quipped.

Hours later when you sprawled in front of the tv, Bucky looked across at you. “Where did you get the idea for the safe word Y/N?” You could feel a wave of embarrassment flooding through your body. You pulled at the sleeve of Bucky’s jumper you were wearing and kept your eyes directed at the floor. “Um well… Oh god, I can’t explain it.” Bucky ran his hand up and down your legs that were stretched over him. “Hey, it’s ok. You don’t have to explain, I was just curious.” You sent him a grateful smile and turned your attention back to the tv show.

A few weeks later

Bucky relaxed knowing that you had the safe word to fall back on when you needed it, not that you ever did. The sex was amazing, the best of your life but you still felt like you wanted to push it a little further. You trusted Bucky infinitely but you didn’t know if you could ask him to try this for you. He was still getting used to using his metal arm on you, if you asked him to try something more adventurous you might scare him away.

One night when you were both getting ready for bed, you handed him your phone with a webpage loaded up. “Um Buck. You know you asked me where I got the safe word from, this is it. You can read it and if you’re not interested then it’s absolutely fine, but if you are then maybe we could talk about it some time?” He took the phone from you and you saw his eyes widen slightly. “Doll, I already know about this stuff.” You were surprised but hid it well as you climbed into bed and waited for him to do the same. “How?” Bucky took in a deep breath. “Well after the other week, I thought I would look into it myself. You didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk about it, so I did some research.” He scratched the back of his neck waiting anxiously for your reaction. “Oh” you said quietly. “So, this is something you want to try?” He pressed gently. Bucky nearly missed the minute nod of your head. “You’re going to have to use your words doll.”

Ever since he had read up on BDSM he wanted to talk to you but didn’t want to make you feel like he was pressurising you into something. But now he needed to hear you say that this was what you wanted. From what he understood, in order for this to work communication was key. “Yeah I do. Not all of it, but some bits.” Burying yourself under the duvet, you started muttering to yourself. Bucky ducked under the duvet and cuddled up next to you. You tried to hide your face from him to cover up the shame you were feeling. “Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about Y/N. We can try whatever you want. I would do anything for you, you know that.” Rolling over you turned to look at him. “But you should want to do it too.” Bucky groaned. “Seriously, you think I don’t want to? You drive me crazy, I feel like a horny teenage boy when I’m around you and I’m over 100. Only you do that to me Y/N, no one else.” Bucky pulled the covers down off your faces so he could see you clearly. “I’m in if you’re in Y/N?” He offered his hand to you to shake, copying your actions a couple of weeks ago. You took his hand and giggled a little. “Deal.”

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​

[the--highlanders]

Trapped

Trapped in a cell, Jamie has to decide whether to trust someone he would usually consider an enemy. 

on ao3.

He tumbled into the cell to land on his knees, though the cold masked most of the sting of the stone floor scraping against his skin. There was nothing but darkness around him, so thick and viscous it could have been liquid, like the inky depths of a loch in winter. Full of nasty, teethy things with greedy eyes. It was so dark, he realised with a shudder, that he had no way of telling where the walls were. For all he knew, they were right by his sides, pressing in on him, and he wrapped his arms around himself. If he did not reach out, then he could not touch the walls and have all his fears confirmed.

But the clang of the door closing behind him echoed too long and too loud for the cell to be so small. Stumbling to his feet, he reached down to brush at his knees, wincing when the raw skin burned at his touch and his fingers came back sticky and wet. Not the worst thing that could have happened, he supposed. He had put up with far worse than this before. And the Doctor would come soon, he told himself with as much conviction as he could muster – which was not particularly much, if he was honest with himself. Even so, the Doctor had to come. As soon as he heard Jamie had been locked up, he would be storming into the place, demanding to know why.

That was a question Jamie himself was quite keen to know the answer to. There had been no warning, nothing out of the ordinary. He had simply bent to help up a child that had been knocked to the ground – a perfectly ordinary gesture, he would have imagined. Perhaps shouting at the man who had pushed her over had been unwise. But the next thing he had known, guards had been swarming around him, dragging him off to the prison without so much as a chance to speak with the Doctor. And the Doctor himself had been terribly cagey about just why the Time Lords had sent them here in the first place, vanishing almost as soon as he had managed to convince the Emperor’s attendants that he was some important diplomat. Whatever he was planning, he had given Jamie no clues that might help him work out exactly why he had been arrested.

His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he took a careful step forward. No rough stone wall shot out of the darkness for him to hit his head against, so he took another step, leaning forward like it might help him see better. He could just make out the seam where the floor met the walls, a blacker line against the shades of grey that marked out the dips and cracks on every surface. The cell was not as small as he had feared, but not as large as he might have wished, either, and for the first time he was glad of the dark. If he tilted his head and half-closed his eyes, he could pretend that it was bigger than it really was, and fend off that nasty lump in his throat a little better.

Which worked quite well until he heard it.

A great, rattling, gasping sound, wheezing out from the other side of the cell.

And then, if he looked closely, there was a shape, too, an enormous mound perched on a little shelf carved out of the wall. He squinted at it, bobbing his head from side to side as he tried to get the measure of it. Whoever – whatever – was there, it would have been twice his height if it stood up like a human. Some kind of trap? he wondered, his heart thundering in his throat with such determination that he was almost sickened by it. A way of getting rid of him? Or another prisoner?

Well, it looked calm enough, and he had already given it ample opportunity to strike. Stretching out one hand, he crept forward. “Hello?” His voice was more hoarse than he would have liked, barely more than a whisper. “Is someone there?”

The thing was still for a moment, and he wondered if it was not a living thing after all, just some strange outcrop of rock. But then it shifted, as slowly and jerkily as if it was breaking itself away from the wall – and sat up, revealing a hulking silhouette that was somehow both human and inhuman in all the worst ways.

“Yes.” Its voice was less of a whisper and more of a long, drawn-out hiss, and Jamie’s blood ran cold. Colder even than whatever liquid ran through the veins of the creature itself, he was sure. “I am here.”

Ice Warrior, Jamie thought, every inch of his skin prickling with terror. It had been a trap after all. And there he was, a complete and utter fool, waking the thing up. Wheeling around, he fumbled first for the door, then its handle, intending to shake it and scream at the top of his lungs and hope that the Doctor would come soon enough to save him. But there was no handle on the inside, no bars to seize hold of, and he was left scrabbling against it instead, his nails scraping horribly on the door’s smooth metal surface. The Doctor will come, he told himself, with more desperation than ever. The Doctor will come, the Doctor will come.

“It’s no use trying to escape,” the Ice Warrior hissed. “If I couldn’t break the door down, I doubt your small body could.”

Gritting his teeth, Jamie fought the urge to spin back around and snap out some clever retort. But none sprung to mind – and exactly what the Ice Warrior had said was settling into his mind, anyway. If I couldn’t break the door down. Turning around more slowly, he stared over at where the thing still sat. It was quite peaceful, as far as he could see, just sitting there with its strange hands clasped in its lap.

“Ice Warrior,” he gasped out, like everything in his mind had been drained away and replaced with those two words.

“Yes,” it said again. Had it been human, he would have said that there was something like amusement in its voice. But it was not human – was about as far as it could get from being human while still being roughly shaped like one – and he did not even know if Ice Warriors could be amused. For all he knew, it could have been hatred. “You are human.”

“Yes.” Well, whatever the thing was planning on doing to him, it was taking its time. He might as well relax while he waited for it to kill him. The shelf poking out of the wall was bumping against the side of his leg, and he perched himself on the edge of it, hands clasped in his lap to mirror the Ice Warrior. “I didnae know there were any of you – of your people here.”

“There are but few.” The Ice Warrior hung its head. “I am -” It dropped its voice, like it was unsure whether it should be telling him this. “Songar.”

“Songar, aye.” Jamie nodded just a little too emphatically. “Well, I’m Jamie.”

“Ja-mie.” It drawled out his name, batting it around like a cat would a mouse, and a shiver ran through Jamie. Briefly, he wondered whether they were really called Ice Warriors for their love of the cold, or whether it had more to do with the chills they could send through someone’s spine.

“That’s right,” he said cautiously. “What’re you in here for, then?”

A deep, guttural sound emanated out from the other side of the room, all but rumbling the floors in its intensity, and Jamie reached out instinctively to steady himself against the wall. Only after a moment did he realise that it was not an earthquake, but Songar, growling out its disappointment. Their disappointment. “For pointing out injustice,” they said. “My brethren are here to keep the peace at the ambassadors’ meeting. When my peacekeeping required me to criticise an Imperial guard, I was arrested.”

“So...” Jamie frowed. “You’re no’ here tae – conquer the planet or somethin’, then?”

“No.”

Songar ought to have been lying, Jamie thought. It ought to have been some elaborate trick, or another layer to the backstabbing that was going on around them. A crumbling empire trying to shore up its own power, all to be usurped by another empire, one with far greater might. But the note in Songar’s voice could not be anything but genuine disdain. Whatever else was going on, they were telling the truth.

“What happened?” he asked slowly. “When ye were arrested, I mean?”

Another wordless hiss, this time surely in displeasure rather than amusement. “The guards took it upon themselves to disperse the people of the town before the ambassadors arrived. I was not aware that keeping peace meant only forbidding violence to those the empire wishes to keep quiet.”

The town had seemed odd, Jamie thought. He had expected it to be full of life and colour, with banners strung from every window and people leaning out from balconies and rooftops to catch a glimpse of the alien visitors. But it had been quiet, deserted even, and it had been there that the Doctor had first started acting funny. Whatever he had realised, he had realised it in those empty streets.

And then -

The child. The one he had helped up. How had the soldiers been so close at hand? Why had they taken the side of the man who had shoved her down, the one he had shouted at? And why should they have stopped him from making sure she was alright?

There was only one answer to that. The girl had wandered away from home, perhaps – and the guards had come first for her, not for him. Which meant, he supposed, that he and Songar had been thrown into the cell together because they had been arrested for the same reason.

He let himself relax a little, his shoulders dropping. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve just never met a – well, I’ve never met an Ice Warrior that didn’t want to kill me.”

Songar spat out a laugh. “Not all humans are the same. Why should we be?”

Jamie was quiet for a moment. “Aye,” he said slowly. “’Spose you’re right.”

“My brethren and I have turned our minds to peace. Our empire has grown enough.”

“Ri-ight.” Jamie bit his lip. Songar’s brute strength might be enough to break them out, he could not deny that. Given time and encouragement, at least. But what then? He still had no idea what the Doctor was planning, even if he thought he knew the wrongs he was trying to fix. What if the Ice Warriors decided that whatever he was doing was against their so-called peacekeeping, too?

But then – the Doctor may not yet know that the Ice Warriors were there, either. Someone would have to warn him.

“If ye broke out,” Jamie began, then faltered. There was nothing to stop Songar from lying through their teeth. “What would ye do then?”

“Return to my people.”

“An’ what would they do?”

“Imperial law prevents our mission. We cannot allow this obstacle to stand.”

No, Jamie thought. It would not be the Ice Warriors trying to stop the Doctor from being too extreme in his measures. It would be the Doctor who would not approve of the Ice Warriors and their undoubtedly brutal methods. “So ye destroy the empire, is that it?”

He had spoken under his breath, and the tilt of Songar’s head was just slight enough that it could almost have been an accident. A pure coincidence of movement, not an admission that Jamie was right. But they both knew what Jamie had said, and both knew what Songar had meant by the motion, and that shared knowledge sat between them, a heavy and oppressive silence.

There was every possibility, of course, that the Doctor had the same objective. In fact, Jamie was almost sure of it. The Time Lords had asked them to oversee the conference, most likely, and then the Doctor had seen the way the Emperor treated the townspeople. Jamie could not imagine that he would be content to leave things the way they were. But whatever he had in mind, it would be nowhere near as violent as the Ice Warriorst. Having the Ice Warriors on their side might be of some use to him. And having the Doctor around to see that the Ice Warriors did not cause too much damage might save a few lives, at least. So perhaps the thing to do was to let Songar try and break them out, to let them rile up the Ice Warriors a bit, and then warn the Doctor what would happen.

And yet there was still the matter of whether or not he could trust an Ice Warrior. Of all the creatures he could have been stuck with, it had to have been one of them. One of the most ruthless species he knew. To trust an Ice Warrior – it was impossible. No matter what Songar said, there was always the possibility that they would kill him as soon as their people had no further use for him. Worse still, there was an even larger possibility that they would do the same to the Doctor, if they found him. Every muscle in his body screaming out its wish to turn away. To wait for the Doctor, and do nothing until he had arrived, and had explained everything.

But the Doctor had not come.

Besides, what would the Doctor do, if he were in the same position? The answer was an obvious one. He would be first in line to imagine that the Ice Warriors were not entirely evil. Perhaps Jamie was close-minded, not to share his optimism.

And whatever else he thought, Songar had been right about one thing. Humans were not all the same. Maybe there was the tiniest of chances that there really were good Ice Warriors.

Slapping his hands against his thighs, he pushed himself to his feet. If the Doctor really was on his way, then he could meet him in the middle. “Come on, then,” he said, as bracingly as he could. “Give us a hand.”

Songar whistled to themselves, something that might have been confusion or amusement or thoughtfulness. “What are you doing?”

Running his fingertips over the door, Jamie paused when he felt a small dip in the metal. It was tiny, invisible to anything but close investigation. Had it been there all along, or had Songar made the dent without noticing? Either way, he thought, it was a weak point. A way out.

“I’m gonnae break out of here,” he said, pounding his fist against his other palm absently. “An’ you’re gonnae help me. Look here.” Heaving themselves to their feet, Songar ambled over, bending down to see what he was pointing at. “I want ye tae hit that dent as hard as ye can, alright?”

Songar nodded, one brief, firm bend of their head before they swung their arm out behind them. The wide arc of their hand narrowly missed Jamie, and he took a hurried step back, waiting with bated breath for the first blow. When it came, it came with a thud, a great hammering of scaly armour against metal. The impact sent sparks skittering out to fade away into the darkness, and Jamie dodged between them to kneel by the door and inspect Songar’s work, his breath catching in his throat when he found the dent again.

A tiny piece of metal had been knocked through to the other side, leaving in its place a gap that was so small he almost missed it – and a single pinprick of light.

[severetimetravelnerd]

Hatred and Love (ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 3

You think you start to understand Jiyong, but you’re wrong.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@kwonnansi​

@aarfyie​

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so this is a mafia AU. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This is the chapter where we’re introduced to Kai :)))

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language.

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You tangled your hands in his hair as you pulled him closer, both of you desperate for each other. He held your waist with one hand while the other slowly moved to unbutton your shirt. You had your hand on his belt buckle, and you were just about to remove it when the phone rang. Both of you pulled away, panting. He continued to look straight into your eyes as he answered the phone, 

“Yes?”.

 It was your phone. When he heard the reply, he cursed at it, immediately getting angry. 

“Y/N, who the fuck is this guy and why does he keep calling you?”

 You were also annoyed by whoever the caller was, so when you looked down at the screen, your eyes widened in surprise. It was Jongin, your co-worker. You sounded quite taken aback when you said, 

“That’s Kim Jongin. My co-worker and the office flirt.”

 Jiyong was already glaring at the phone for having interrupted you, but when he heard that, the glare intensified. From the phone, you could hear Jongin saying, 

“I am not the office flirt! Y/N, I literally only flirt with you!”

 Without meaning to, you started smiling. Jongin was the first sort-of friend you had. Yes, he flirted with you, but he never put any pressure on you. That was just his way of trying to make you laugh. 

“Jongin, you flirt with literally every woman you meet.” 

He gasped in mock outrage.

 “That is not true Y/N!!” 

Immediately, he became serious. 

“Y/N, where are you? You haven’t come to work in weeks. All your stuff is still in your apartment. You’re not answering your phone? What’s going on?”

 You made eye contact with Jiyong, not knowing what to say. You had been abducted, but you were kind of falling for the man who abducted you. Also, you did not want your dad to know. You didn’t know what to say, but Jiyong solved that problem for you. Responding in the iciest tone you had ever heard him use, he said,

 “Don’t worry, she’s safe here. And she’s happy. That’s all you need to know.”

 He cut the call and looked back at you, with a light smirk. 

“Now where were we?”

 You gave him a light smile and you climbed off him, struggling to not laugh at the way his face fell. You stood up, buttoning your shirt.

 “Jiyong, you’re injured. It isn’t good for you to indulge in… strenuous activity like this.” 

You paused to smile at him. 

“We can continue this once your injuries are better. Goodnight.” 

And you shut the door behind you as you entered your room, leaning against the door to try and calm yourself down, because it took you great strength to walk out of there and let him recover when you wanted nothing more than to let him fuck you senseless. You tried to go to bed, but as you tossed around in the sheets, you couldn’t think of anything other than the way his tattoo peaked out from under his shirt, or the way his lips felt against your, or the look in his eyes when he looked at you. After trying to sleep for a while, you finally sat up, shaking your head. You knew it was going to be a long night.

Although you barely slept, when you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t help but be in a really good mood. You kept thinking back to the previous night, the kiss, his eyes, everything. You knew you weren’t the only one who cared about him. The looks in his eyes and the way he kissed you proved it. And he told Jongin you were safe. He said you were safe here. That meant he wouldn’t harm you. You weren’t in danger. You had no idea how things were going to pan out, but you were sure that things would work out alright. You were annoyingly happy that day, just waiting for him to come and see you in the night. Which is why you were surprised when Hanbin came into your room in the evening carrying a rope, looking very upset. He couldn’t meet your eyes when he said, 

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to come down with me for a bit.” 

Although this was making you feel a little uneasy, you let Hanbin tie you up with the rope and lead you downstairs. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you trusted Jiyong. You knew he wouldn’t harm you.

Jiyong had been in the middle of a meeting with his men, trying to explain their plan for the next deal so that things don’t go as badly, when he heard a loud, mocking laugh from the back of the room. His eyebrows shot up. No one laughed at his meetings. Ever. He slowly turned around, looking for the person who laughed. His eyes narrowed when he found him. Jaebum. The guy was good at what he did, but he was a bit too cocky. He walked up to Jiyong, his hands in his pocket and his eyes fixed in a deadly stare. 

“Boss, are you sure you want to talk about being ruthless? Because” 

He paused to laugh. 

“We all know you aren’t exactly ruthless anymore.” 

He took a step closer to Jiyong. 

“You have a weakness now.”

 He slowly looked upwards. 

“And she’s sitting right there.” 

Jiyong was hit with a fury he hadn’t felt in a while. How dare he challenge you like this, in front of everyone? How dare they use you against him? More than that, he felt a little scared. Yes, you were definitely a weakness of his. How had he let this happen? He was supposed to be torturing you? How had let you become a weakness? He started to feel angry at himself. But he showed none of it. He just fixed Jaebum with a stare and said,

 “Hanbin, get Y/N here.”

Hanbin slowly led you into the crowded room, trying not to show his fear for you. You however, were still fine. You had faith in Jiyong. He wouldn’t do anything to you. He said you were safe here. Even as Hanbin tied you to a chair, you were fine. You trusted Jiyong. You looked up at Jiyong, meeting his eyes. They were the coldest you had ever seen them. You shivered a little, feeling a little uneasy, but you brushed it off. You were sure it was just because he had to be like that around his men. He slowly pulled out his gun, looking down at it. He gave Jaebum a final look and then aimed the gun at you. Even then, you were fine. You were sure he’d just shoot the wall behind you. Maybe he had to prove a point. Even as he fixed you with a glare, you felt okay, because you trusted him. He aimed the gun and he shot. It was only when you felt the bullet graze your arm and your body go numb that you realised, he shot you. The last thing you saw was his cold glare, with not an ounce of regret before your head hit the ground from the force of the bullet and you passed out. Jaebum had just opened his mouth to say,

 “Okay boss-“

 when Jiyong turned the gun in his direction and shot him in the head, turning to watch his body fall slack. He slowly put his gun back and looked around. 

“Anyone else has any issues they want to raise?” 

The whole room was silent. Hanbin should’ve been watching Jiyong and waiting for orders, but he had grown too close to you to just watch you there, unconscious with blood seeping through your clothes. He cared about you, and he couldn’t let something happen now. For the first time since he began working for Jiyong, he felt horrified by his boss. He knew Jiyong loved you. How could he shoot the woman he loved? Jiyong sighed, and in a bored voice, said, 

“Hanbin, take her away. Make sure she doesn’t die. She needs to be alive for us to do the job.”

 And just like that, Jiyong went back to explaining their plan for the next deal. Hanbin rushed forward, tearing a bit of his shirt to tie around your wound to prevent blood loss. He picked you up in his arms and shot Jiyong an undecipherable look before rushing out of the room. He knew that taking you to a hospital and explaining what happened might be tough, but he knew he had to do that for you.

Jiyong, on the other hand, although on the outside, he just continued his explanation of their plans, on the inside, he was dying. The moment he pulled the trigger, he hated himself for doing it. Luckily, last minute, he had shifted the gun so that the bullet wasn’t aimed at any of your vitals, but it was your expression when he shot you that wouldn’t get out of his mind. Your look of trust changing to one of surprise, of disbelief. You were the only person who had ever looked at him with that kind of trust. The way that changed… it broke him. He had to change that.

 Hanbin rushed into the ER with you in his arms, desperately shouting for help. He watched helplessly, feeling wretched as the nurses wheeled you away. They had to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. Luckily, the bullet wasn’t lodged in your body, but even for a hospital’s ER, a gun shot wound was no small task. Hanbin just sat there, waiting and waiting, hoping that everything would turn out okay. Luckily, he had the sense to take you to his friend’s hospital, and so, there was no question of police or inquiries. He sat there, thinking back on the way things happened. Was this really the life he wanted? Would he someday turn into Jiyong hyung? Would he become someone who could shoot the person he loved? It scared him. He had always admired Jiyong hyung’s commitment, but now, he was questioning it all. Suddenly your phone rang. It was with Hanbin. He slowly answered the phone with shaky hands. 

“Hello?” 

It was Jongin. 

“Oh it’s you? Are you the same guy from yesterday? Because if you are, I’m going to find you and kill you. You’ve abducted her, haven’t you? You’re drugging her and keeping her there against her will. You-“ 

Hanbin cut him off. He was too exhausted to fight over someone he hadn’t ever spoken to.

 “No, it’s not the same guy.”

 Jongin paused. He seemed rather sheepish for a minute, but he continued anyway,

 “Who are you? What have you done to her? Where is she?” 

Hanbin paused. Sounding strained, he said, 

“Do you care about her?” 

Jongin sounded taken aback. His voice turned a little softer.

 “Of course I do. She’s my friend. And I like her.” 

Hanbin felt a little better. He knew Jiyong would probably be mad at him if he knew, but he decided to call Jongin to the hospital. He needed someone who could fill in your details. 

“Y/N, is in the hospital right now. She got shot. I’ll text you the address. Come to the ER.” 

And he cut the call, going back to silently worrying about you.

Jongin put down the phone, in shock. He had heard rumours that Kwon Jiyong had abducted someone, but he was hoping against hope that it wasn’t you. Once he heard Hanbin’s voice however, he knew it was the truth. Jongin’s heart sank a little as he started getting ready to go to the hospital. As he strapped the dagger to his thigh and put the gun in his pocket, he seriously contemplated telling the rest of the guys. He was in the gang that was Jiyong’s rival gang after all. He had a responsibility as one of the heads of EXO. But he also had a responsibility as your friend. He knew that once he got the gang involved, there was no going back. After that, it would be between the gangs. No one would care about you, and you would probably get hurt in the process. His chest tightened a little. He couldn’t do that to you. If he had to, he would introduce you to the gang after you said yes to him asking you out. He wanted to keep you as safe as possible. He wanted you to be as far away from all the violence as possible. He didn’t want you to have to find out this way. But he knew one thing. He would make sure you were safe. He would make sure you were happy.  He grit his teeth. He wouldn’t let Jiyong get away with this. Jongin drove to the hospital, as fast as he could, but by then, you had finished getting your stitches and Hanbin had taken you back. He just waited at the reception, clenching his fist a little tighter. His eyes were set. He might have missed you today, but now, he knew where you were. And now, it was war.

 Hanbin and you sat in the car in silence, you still in shock and Hanbin not knowing what to say. You were trembling, still scared from what had happened. Hanbin watched you in silence, knowing there was nothing he could say to make things better. Hanbin slowly reached for your trembling hand and held it, gently stroking it so that you calmed down. It worked. Your breathing was getting steadier and you weren’t shaking as violently anymore. He softly said,

 “I’m sorry.” 

You replied, equally softly,

 “It’s okay.”

 You knew Hanbin had nothing to do with shooting you. Hanbin would never. He was too nice. You were only scared that it was Jiyong. Closing your eyes, you tried your level best to stop replaying his eyes when he shot you in you head and tried to stay calm. When you finally got to the base, your legs were still a little unsteady, and you were tired, as you were on heavy painkillers and you were running a slight fever. One look at you struggling to walk and Hanbin just scooped you up into his arms, feeling terrible at the way you were still shivering a little. He put you down on your bed. You mumbled, 

“Thanks Hanbin. I’ll manage from here.”

 He looked at you like you were insane. 

“Y/N, do you seriously think I’m going to let you stay here alone tonight? Fuck no! I’ll be with you.”

 And turning a deaf ear to all your protests, he went a got some water in a bowl and starting putting a cold compress on your forehead to bring down the fever. Slowly, you also calmed down, letting Hanbin run his fingers through your hair to calm you down. You were glad that through all of this, you got to know someone like Hanbin, because you really valued the friendship you had with him. You were just closing your eyes, trying to relax, when you heard the door open. Hanbin immediately jumped up. 

“Hyung, I really don’t think you should be here.”

 Jiyong ignored him.

 “Y/N?” 

You started trembling. You couldn’t get the face he had when he pulled the trigger out of your mind. Jiyong pushed Hanbin away lightly, moving closer to you, desperate to see with his own eyes that you were okay. You were bundled up under the covers on the bed. He sat down at the edge of the bed and slowly pulled the covers back, trying to check on your wound. The thought of having harmed you was driving him insane. He first saw your bandaged arm. It killed him to see it that way, but he was glad it hadn’t been critical. He reached up to tuck some hair behind your eyes, when he felt you flinch. Your entire body was shaking violently from the fear. Only then did he finally look up at your face. For the first time since he met you, those beautiful eyes that were always blazing, full of determination, stared back at him, full of fear.

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

5 or 10 for the prompts list from superficial stark? gotta get that sweet sweet angst

So... this is the one you wanted, right?

Yeouch. I had such a hard time with this one because it just... is so outside of Yang’s character! It’s just not her! So thank you for giving me a challenge, I guess 😂

Anyway... I hope the angst gremlins enjoy this one because it hurt to write. I think this might be one of the more draining fics that I’ve had to write, tbh 😅

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“I am so glad that you decided to return to me, my darling.”

Blake wanted to scream as her body, without any permission of her own, stepped forward into Adam’s tent and allowed Adam to cup her jaw, his grin sick and sharp as his thumb roughly caressed her cheek.

‘No.’ Blake thought desperately. ‘No, why am I back here? Why is he still alive? He should be dead!’

“As am I, Adam. Leaving was a mistake.”

Blake wanted to cry, kick and scream when her voice left her throat without her consent. Those weren’t her words! She didn’t want to say them! This was all wrong!

“Oh… that makes me so happy, my love.”

Blake felt sick. It was like she was a passenger in her own body. She had no control.

“But one thing still needs addressing.” This was wrong. Adam shouldn't be touching her face. His hand shouldn’t be on her hip. Blake watched as Adam’s grin became sharper, the hand on her jaw now becoming tighter and more painful. Blake’s closed against her will as she flicked her ears towards Adam’s voice. “Your betrayal.”

Blake felt panic and terror begin to set in as Adam’s voice started to shift and morph, becoming more feminine. More familiar. His voice became that of which had come to represent safety to her. It exuded warmth and care. When Blake opened her eyes, she was no longer in the White Fang camp, in Adam’s tent. No, now she stood in the centre of an Atlas dorm room and Yang was the one caressing her face and holding her hip.

“Yang?” Blake whispered, a surge of relief filling her as she realised that she was back in control of her body.

“You left me when I needed you.” Yang murmured, her voice sounding hurt and broken as she stepped away from Blake, her eyes shifting to red as her lips lifted in a snarl, making Blake take a step back in shock. “You know, Blake… I wanted to hurt you. When you left, I wanted to get revenge.” Yang said, her voice now sharp and unforgiving,an expression that was painfully close to hatred in her burning red gaze. I wanted to make you feel the way I did.”

“Do- do you still want to?” Blake asked weakly, terrified of the answer.

“I don’t know anymore.” Yang said in a flat tone of voice.

“Yang… this isn’t you-”

“And what would an emotionless brick of a coward like you know about me?!” Yang snarled angrily. “You never cared!”

“Of course-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Yang hissed as she stormed up to and glowered down at her, making Blake take a terrified step back. “If you cared, you would have been there! You left me alone!”

“I-”

“Trusting you was a mistake. I never should have given you a chance to destroy my pride.”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Blake sat up with a gasp, her ears pressed flat against her skull as her eyes darted around their Atlas dorm room. It was still dark. Her teammates were still asleep. And Blake was trembling with terror and shock. The memory of Adam caressing her face made her feel sick and the pure hatred in Yang’s gaze? Her voice as she admitted to wanting to hurt Blake? It made her stomach churn as she desperately tried to separate her nightmare from reality.

“Oh Gods.” Blake whimpered under her breath as she felt bile hit her throat. She threw herself out of bed and ran to their bathroom. She had only just lifted the toilet seat when her stomach rejected it’s contents. Blake fell to her knees in front of the toilet, her body heaving paining as she retched, heartbroken sobs leaving her throat. By the time she was done, tears were flowing freely down her face and her throat and stomach burned. Her body shook and she still couldn’t separate reality from her nightmare. But Blake felt her body freeze when Yang’s voice called out to her.

“Blake? Oh my God, hey! Hey, I’m here, Blake. What’s-”

But as Yang dropped to her knees beside her and reached out, all Blake could see was the nightmare version of her, eyes blazing red and filled with hatred as she made it clear how she felt. Blake gave a sharp, terrified gasp and threw herself away from Yang and backpeddled into a corner, her amber eyes wide with fear as scared and pleading whimpers fell from her lips.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Yang!” She rasped, her chest tight, her lungs suddenly seeming unable to draw breath. “I didn’t- I never- please don’t hurt me!” Blake recoiled into herself, hyperventilating.

“Blake… I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Yang’s voice wavered slightly. Blake heard the sound of shuffling and looked up, tears streaming and breath hitching, as Yang sat against the far wall and raised her hands so that Blake could see them. She smiled sadly at Blake and when she spoke, it was with a gentle compassion that Blake didn’t feel she deserved. “But I’m not going to leave you like this. I’m going to stay right over here, yeah? Where you can see me.” Blake trembled, her ears flicking towards Yang’s voice as it cut through the shadows of her mind. “I know you’re scared, Blake. I don’t know what happened but I need you to know that I would never lay a hand on you. Okay?”

Blake couldn’t tell you how long they spent in that small bathroom, her hyperventilating sobs quietly bouncing off of the walls as Yang spoke softly and gently, always keeping her hands in the eyesight of Blake. Eventually, Blake started to calm down, her breathing starting to even out as Yang talked to her.

“Hey, there you are.” Yang cooed softly as Blake took a deep breath and blinked as though coming out of a daze. “It’s okay. You’re safe, Blake. Keep taking deep breaths for me.”

As Blake continued to breathe deeply, reality began to return to her. And with it, a crushing sense of guilt.

“I’m sorry.” She rasped out, lowering her head in shame.

“Don’t be. Is it okay if I come over there?”

“Yes.”

Slowly, as though to give Blake time to change her mind, Yang approached her.

“Hey there.” Yang whispered gently as she sat beside Blake, still keeping her hands where Blake could see them.

“...Hi.” Blake mumbled, her voice much smaller than she’d like.

“Can I give you a hug?”

“...please.” Blake’s voice broke as she spoke. She felt Yang move slowly to engulf her in her arms and soon found herself sinking into her embrace, burrowing her face into Yang’s neck and inhaling shakily. How could she have ever thought that this woman would do something like that?

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Yang asked carely, her arms holding Balke close.

“Nightmare.”

“Okay. Is it okay if I ask what it was about?”

And so, the details of the nightmare slowly left Blake’s lip as they sat huddled together on the bathroom floor. As she spoke, she felt Yang’s arm tighten around her protectively. She heard her breath hitch violently when Blake spoke of what this nightmare version of her had done. By the end, Yang was shaking slightly herself as she pulled back and gently pushed Blake away to look her in the eyes, a pained expression in her lilac gaze.

“I’m so sorr-”

“No. Please don’t apologise.” Yang said with gentle firmness as she slowly cupped Blake’s jaw. Blake flinched for a split second before sinking into her touch. Yang’s thumb caressed Blake’s cheek gently and Blake found herself leaning into it. “You had a nightmare. You came out of it scared and confused. I am not going to hold that against you, okay?” Yang said softly, her voice wavering slightly. “I am so sorry that you had to go through that. That… I can’t even imagine how you must have felt to hear me… but I promise you, Blake,” Yang stared into Blake’s eyes, giving her the eye contact that was so important to her. “That none of that was true. Yes, I was hurt. But there was not one second where I ever wanted to hurt you.”

“I believe you.” Blake said shakily. And she did. Despite the terror of her dream, she could see it in Yang’s eyes that she was telling the truth.

“You are not an emotionless brick. You’re, like, one of the most caring people that I know. Your passion and dedication to helping others is amzing, Blake. And you couldn’t be less of a coward. You’re so goddamn brave, you know that?” Yang said quietly as they pressed their foreheads together, both of them desperately needing this closeness. When Blake gave a jaw cracking yawn, the nightmare’s effects starting wear down on her, Yang smiled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind Blake’s ear. “C’mon. Let's try to get some more rest, yeah?”

“Um,” Blake mumbled, hesitating for a moment. She knew what she needed but she admittedly was a little… apprehensive about it.

“Hey. Talk to me.” Yang whispered as she nudged Blake’s nose with her own sweetly. “What do you need?”

“It’s stupid.” Blake sighed, looking away as her cheeks burned. “But… could you… stay with me? Just for a bit?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course I can, Blake.” Yang murmured softly as she climbed to her feet and helped Blake stand and gently guided her over to their bunks. Yang climbed into Blake’s first and held out her arms welcomingly and Blake crawled into them easily. She tucked her head under Yang’s chin and sighed softly as Yang pulled her close, running a gentle hand up and down her back soothingly. “I’ve got you, Blake. You’re safe.”

“Thank you, Yang.” Blake mumbled as sleep finally claimed her, nuzzling into Yang’s collar as Yang kissed the top of her head.

As the nightmare faded away, Blake fell asleep wrapped up in Yang’s arms, a feeling of safety, care and reassurance enveloping her as Yang murmured sweet nothings into her ears.

[weirdestsweetheart]

DETACHED(IWAOI)

By WeirdestSweetheart (also available on Wattpad, AO3)

Wind was blowing gently, it was one of the days where everything seemed so perfect, the weather, the cheerful chirping of birds, the warm sunshine that kissed the skin making one feel at ease. The muffled noise of cars honking and driving entered the apartment where sat a damaged soul repressing his sobs.

Broken glasses and objects lay shattered on the floor, the only light that made it's way in the dark and bland room was from the curtains which swayed so gently just like the wind. Amongst this sat Oikawa staring at the distance out of the window thinking about things that never happened and knew that it would never happen, not in this life.

"Why..." He hugged his legs and collapse to his sides, his mind filled with all of the things that happened today, how he lost his everything. His best friend who was his everything.

He closed his eyes and recalled what happened that ravaged his life in split of seconds.

Oikawa rushed to Iwaizumi's house, his excitement didn't seem to ever end. His search had ended after complete five months of struggle. He had to make an excuse to leave Japan so that no one could guess what he had in his mind. He eyed the box that rested in his hand, with a gentle squeeze on it he knocked at the door.

After no response for five minutes which was pretty odd Oikawa tried looking around and then his eyes landed on the note that said:

Iwaizumi family is on the wedding! Our Hajime has finally got a bride! A simple wedding in the Miyagi Church.

For emergency contact- XX124XX468

Oikawa's blood ran cold, he read the note again and again expecting it to be some kind of sick joke. His body seemed to move on it's own, he ran to the church.

'This shouldn't be happening.' His thoughts made him feel sick, anxiety was now taking down it's toll. His grip tightened around the box as his legs didn't stop. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead in the chilly weather.

He reached the church, his breathing not in normal pace, the sickness in his stomach grew immensely as he saw the name of the bride on the board. Oikawa darted in but halted when he saw the sight. The sick feeling in his stomach was overpowered by the tightening of his chest. His body which seemed to move on it's on now couldn't make the slightest move to stop what was happening.

"You have now been declared as husband and wife in the name of the God."

Claps thundered in the church amongst which Oikawa's heart cracking faded out. His eyes never wavering away from the love of his life whose love he couldn't even gain and had already lost it.

The people started walking past Oikawa saying things, how the groom and bride are made for each other, how they are the perfect couple, they looked beautiful together.

When the whole church was empty, only three people were standing in it and looking at each other. Iwaizumi's gaze had spotted Oikawa long before everyone started walking out, his gaze had something different in it, he looked at Oikawa with resentment.

"So you are finally here?" Iwaizumi's voice showed more bitterness than his eyes. "For what are you here?"

Oikawa's legs had lost his strength, he stumbled and walked to Iwaizumi, "What are you saying Iwa-Chan?"

Iwaizumi growled, "Don't act like you don't know." His eyes softened, "I thought we were best friends, I thought that we had this unspoken understanding of always being there for eachother." His eyes turned cold again.

"Iwa-Chan, I, I, what are you saying?" Oikawa was desperate, he wanted to know what Iwaizumi meant, "But, why did you get married?"

Oikawa looked the girl who stood next to him, her gaze nervously looking down trying to avoid his eyes.

"Aiya-Chan you knew that I love-"

"What are you trying to say Oikawa?" Aiya's voice was filled with fear, "Yo-you left Iwaizumi when he needed you the most! Why are you calling me out!"

Oikawa looked at her in shock and disbelief, he didn't understand half the thing she said but with look that Iwaizumi was giving him, he knew that something big had happened while he was gone.

He tried reaching to Iwaizumi but was rejected by a slap on the arm which caused more pain to his heart than the area where it stung.

"You didn't pick your calls." Iwaizumi spat every word with exasperation, it felt like it irritated him to even look at Oikawa.

"But I did tell Aiya-Chan that I am going-"

"Don't lie Oikawa!" Aiya cut his words, "You didn't tell me anything."

"What?" Oikawa's mind was getting heavy, he didn't understand why she was being mendacious. He tried speaking again but this time Iwaizumi was the one to cut him.

"A best friend of twenty three years leaves when he was needed the most and comes back after six months only to pretend he doesn't know anything." Oikawa flinched at the hatred filled in the words, "Why did you come!"

Oikawa stepped back, "Why are putting it like you didn't know where I was?" He said and continuing when none of the two cut him this time, "I did tell you that I will be out of the country for-"

"Stop lying!" Iwaizumi eyes shined from the light falling from the windows, the glossy texture of his eyes, Oikawa knew he wanted to cry but was so frustrated to let it out, "Aiya told me everything."

Aiya stiffened next to Iwaizumi which didn't go unnoticed by Oikawa.

"What did she tell you?"

"How much of a shameless person you are, that you want us to tell you what you did?" Iwaizumi took a step and looked Oikawa in his eyes, "So listen your majesty, you are that person who leaves his best friend when his father dies, you are that best friend who has always needed comfort but runs away when your best friend needs."

Oikawa's eyes widened at his words, he kept staring at Iwaizumi who screamed all his detest.

"You are the best friend..." His voice cracked with all the emotions that he had sealed inside him, "...who is selfish."

"Mr. Iwaizumi is dead?" Oikawa said in disbelief, he looked at Aiya who avoided his gaze, "Why no one told me?"

"You never responded to my calls!"

"You never called me Iwa-Chan!" Oikawa shouted back, he didn't receive his calls at all, nor his message, the only person who messaged him was Aiya.

"I am done with you lying!" Iwaizumi ran his hand through his hair frustratingly.

"I am not lying!" Oikawa was desperate, he was desperate to tell the truth, Iwaizumi was misunderstanding everything. "I only got Aiya-Chan's messages!" He tried continuing but was cut again.

"Oikawa. Just stop." Iwaizumi's voice was stern. "Aiya told me how you told her that you didn't care and denied coming to my wedding."

Aiya shivered next to Iwaizumi, she peeked and saw the stare of Oikawa which showed that he caught her dishonesty.

Oikawa looked back at Iwaizumi and pondered upon the things in a time lapse. His eyes widened as he connected all the dots.

He confessed his underlying love for Iwaizumi to Aiya, how she told him that Iwaizumi likes him too making Oikawa to get lost in the ecstatic feeling of accomplishment of long awaited unrequited love to finally be mutual.

Oikawa's eyes narrowed as he registered everything, how Aiya suggested him a way to confess his love, convincing him to bring something that Iwaizumi would love. How could he have been so stupid?

"You perfidious bitch!" Oikawa lashed out on Aiya who flinched, "You fucking lied to him!" He took a step towards her but the next thing he felt was a stinging pain on his cheeks.

Oikawa's gaze was on the floor, the pain becoming more prominent. It was until the realisation took a hold on him, he was slapped. The pain he felt was something he couldn't describe. He looked up and stared at the person who slapped him.

"Iwa-Cha-"

"Don't call me that!" Iwaizumi pulled Aiya behind her, protecting her from Oikawa, or so what he thought. "You have stooped so low Oikawa."

"You don't believe me?" Oikawa started, tears now forming in his eyes, "She has lied to you!"

"You are lying Oikawa!" Iwaizumi was also crying by now, "Please stop your bullshit."

Oikawa shook his head, his best friend of many years was not believing him. Believing? He was not even ready to hear him out.

"Do you trust this wicked witch over you best friend of twenty three years?" Oikawa cried, "You have-"

"Yes." Iwaizumi's answered that made Oikawa to stare at him, his desperation to solve everything ran out of his body. He watched how Iwaizumi's hand gripped Aiya's, how he squeezed her hand and walked past him.

Oikawa didn't have any idea how long he stood there at the same position and for how long he was staring at nothing. The box that Oikawa was holding was now slipping from his hands, it dropped on the ground and he didn't even reach for it and made his way out of church.

After that day no one saw Oikawa.

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