(angst! angst angst angst!)

The difference between tøp and top:

Tøp: Twenty One Pilots

Top: Phil Lester

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? - Bucky x Reader x OlderBrother!Steve (4/?)

Request from @bxckytrxsh : Hey :) I have a request for you! I think a fic where the reader is Steve’s sister so she is at the tower and develops a crush on Bucky could be cool, especially if you wrote it! Could be protective Steve and flirty Bucky idk? PS I love all of your stories

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

Warnings - swearing? crying!reader, depressed!reader, sad!Bucky, angsty? sharing a shower with Bucky, concerned!Steve. - That’s all I can think of, if I’m wrong please notify me!

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Troublemaker (Part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Jungkook is trouble, the kind of boy your mother warned you to stay away from, the kind of boy that would leave you heartbroken and alone without a second thought. You know he’s only going to hurt you, but you can’t stay away.

Originally posted by jengkook

Chapter 2: Summer

It wasn’t until early summer that you saw Jungkook again.

It was in the midst of a particularly violent summer storm, he was sheltering underneath a bus stop just outside your school as you were walking home.

Your encounters with him always seemed to be in the rain, you noted.

 He had a cigarette in his hand and you watched as he took a drag, breathing in deeply and then releasing the smoke from his lips, it curled away from his mouth and disappeared into the air. It was a strangely beautiful sight.

He’d been gone from school for more than two months, at first the teachers had furiously looked for him, ringing his home and questioning where he was. But now they never even spoke his name, like he’d never even existed at all and you’d figured he must have transferred schools or something. You’d hated that you were slightly disappointing at the idea of never seeing him again.

Yet more importantly, it had been more than two months since you’d felt Jungkook’s soft lips on yours, more than two months since he’d touched you and told you you were pretty. You craved it, now even more strongly than ever, you craved his hands on your body.

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Love Me Like You Love Chicken Nuggets

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Rating: T
Genre: some angst, some fluff & some humour.
Word count: 4,213

A/N: For @dontcallmemarge​! I hope you enjoy it! And blame @wangcrusher​ for the title which is kind of the best 💕

Jungkook does not look delicious. Jungkook does not look delicious. Jungkook does-

Ah shit, who were you kidding? Jungkook most definitely does look delicious dressed in a pair of light wash jeans - more than a little distressed - and a loose white tee. He completed his outfit with his cherished Timberlands and ran a hand through his hair, messing with the blonde locks to give him the fresh-out-of-bed-but-still-sexy look that had your heart feeling weak. Curse him and his good looks.

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in honor of the month of Halloween starting tomorrow I present an ah au mashup of spooky scary au and fake ah crew:

Geoff as some demon summoned by some idiots who thought he could help their crew grow only for Geoff to destroy them all. But hey their lifestyle seems kinda fun maybe he should give it a try. He gets bored in his immortal life so why not spend it causing some chaos for humans.

Jack, the swamp creature who’s home was destroy and she vowed revenge but then grew a liking to the speed of a car and the cold metal of a gun. 

Ryan, the ex-scientist who lost his degree due to his rather, well, interesting excuse for morals in his experiments. Who decided to go into crew life at first as an extended study of crime, only to find he loves it. 

Michael, the child of a mob boss in the 1920’s who died an early death. That his parents didn’t want him to have so they hired a necromancer to bring him back and make him the… thing.. he is now. Unkillable and terrifying. The life of a thief and mercenary is all he’s ever known and all he can ever get.

Gavin, the ‘close friend’ of Ryan’s who got hurt when Ryan and him worked together in the start of their life of crime. Who Ryan wasn’t ready to loose and brought back as the abomination he is. (as mad as Gavin was at the time (he left Ryan after that only to meet him several years later when the demon Ramsey hires him) Gavin is a little grateful he isn’t dead).

Ray, made werewolf by an old crew that hired him. That he ended up killing with his new teeth and long claws. Who was forced into a life of uncontrolled violence. Trying to make use of his new form and deadly moons. Who learns to fight because now he has the strength to. And lives the life of crime because who else would hire a werewolf.

And Jeremy. The only human in this entire mess. Most people would be absolutely terrified of being anywhere near the crew let alone part of it. But Jeremy isn’t as phased by the crews supernaturalness. (Plus everyone is rather protective over their squishy human).

so in today’s class, my lecturer said “i read readers digest, and it said that if you hold your s/o’s hand while they’re angry, there is a high chance that their anger will dissipate.” 

  • jeremy was angry, and it was probably jean’s fault
  • jean had muttered something under his breath that made jeremy very upset, and jeremy had just shut. down.
  • his lips were pulled into a tight line, and his shoulders were rigid with tension
  • “jer?”
  • they were sitting on the sofa, both of them claiming either ends of it
  • jeremy didn’t answer, but jean knew jeremy was listening
  • “i’m sorry”
  • jeremy flinched. 
  • “i don’t want you to apologize,” jeremy started, and his hands that were fisted loosened up as jeremy continued. “I don’t want you to do things you think is okay, but isn’t.”
  • “you risking your ankle while its still sore just to continue for the championships is not worth it. we are not ravens, jean.”
  • “but i’m the best backliner you have.” its quiet, and disheartening. 
  • “if it means you’ll have to be hospitalized, then no.” 
  • “jeremy, my ankle is fine”
  • “i am not riko.”
  • jean was kneeling on the sofa now, facing jeremy. he reached out to grab one of jeremy’s hands as he continue rattling on with anger. the moment their hands touched, jeremy’s voice softened almost immediately.
  • “we can give up the championships this year. we don’t run our players to the ground, jean.” jeremy doesn’t realize his voice had gotten softer, but jean has, and he’s fascinated.
  • “but it’s your last year, i want it to be worthwhile.” jean replied
  • he let go of jeremy’s hand, and jeremy’s voice rose again
  • “jean, no. we have a goddamn good goalkeeper, and amazing strikers. they can cover for the defense line.”
  • jean took jeremy’s hand again, and his thumb brushed lightly against his knuckles as he murmurs, “mon amour, thank you for being so considerate, but i am really fine.”
  • jeremy shook his head, and jean can see the anger in his eyes fading.
  • jean let go again, and asks, “why are you so angry, jeremy?”
  • jeremy huffed, and jean was almost amused to see the anger returning again. “jean, we are trojans. we respect our players, we treat them like humans. we don’t work our players till they burn out–”
  • jean reached out to grab jeremy’s hand and this time, he holds it firmly. 
  • “goddamn it jean, stop grabbing my hand. i can’t focus properly”
  • jean laughs, harder when jeremy looks at him confused, and kisses jeremy
  • “thank you, jer. for always being so considerate.” 

anonymous asked:

Hello! I noticed you reblogged the coyote McCree with snow leopard and panther Jack and Gabe as parents, and I was wondering if you'd write something about that? I'd love an abused young McCree getting love from a real pack (since he didn't get it from his original) - I love your work, please and thank you!!

./makes giddy laughter

I love love LOVE that piece of art!!! Also thank you @orenjimaru for giving me ze blessing to write something for your marvelous art ; w;

I hope y’all enjoy dis!!!

Read on Ao3.


               “You can’t take him away!” Jack spat, ears placed flat against his skull, tail whipping and fangs baring in fury, “You saw how terrible his state was! Christ! The kid was abused! And Deadlock are criminals!!! Theirs is no place for a child!!!”

               The same reasons were given. In the same monotone, same lack of emotion. That there was no proof of Jesse being abused, that life on the road is rough, injuries like that happened all the time. That Jesse was a coyote whilst Jack and Gabriel were both felines. That the pack behaviour didn’t match. That Jesse had to be returned to Deadlock due to pack hierarchy.

               Bullshit.

               Jack was honestly tempted to beat the council black and blue, consequences be damned. If Gabriel was here, that temptation would turn into reality, and both of them would get sacked. Would be worth it, though.

               …But then it would only give them more excuses to say Jack was “unfit” to be Jesse’s guardian.

               The pup was…put upon when he was told of the news. Disappointed, yes, but not unexpected. Jesse wasn’t crying like Jack thought he would and that, above all, cut into the snow leopard’s heart like a million pieces of glass.

               “It’s a’ight, Jack. It’ll be ok.” Jesse put a too-small hand on Jack’s cheek, patting the straining jaw softly. And the smile that he gave the snow leopard was pained, innocent and far too old for a pup like him to have, “Thank ya for tryin’.”

               Suddenly, it was Jack who wanted to cry.

               The cuts and bruises on the pup barely healed when the decision came through. They didn’t let Jack escort Jesse to Deadlock in the end. He only had the chance to say goodbye. Jack watched as the car carrying the coyote away until he could no longer see it, knowing that Jesse’s big brown eyes behind the cold window would haunt him for the rest of his life. Anger and depression bubbled in Jack’s chest, seething and suffocating as he stood there petrified.

               Gabriel didn’t come back from the mission two days later. The council deliberately sent him off, know the panther would have caused a lot more trouble if he was by Jack’s side. The snow leopard played by the book. Reyes did not.

               And he was furious upon hearing what happened. Jack downtrodden mood only added fuel to the fire.

               “Gabe, please don’t make this harder than it already is.” Jack pleaded, even when the fire of his anger hadn’t died down behind blue eyes. Obviously Gabriel disagreed.

               “It’s fucked up and you know it! Kid ain’t gonna survive out there! Not when he’s bite-size and especially not with that pack! Fucking assholes!” He hurled a chair at the opposite wall, voice growing louder and louder in his rage, “Fucking knew I shouldn’t have taken that fucking mission!!! Son of a bitch!”

               “Gabe, please!” Jack’s fingers trembled where he had threaded them through his hair, tugging at the strands almost to the point of ripping them out. Just like that, Gabriel stopped, but it didn’t end the horrified torrent of thoughts coursing through Jack’s mind.

               What had he done? Why didn’t he do more? Oh God, Jesse!

               For the next week, neither of them touched the subject, but it lay tender and bleeding between them, that much Jack knew too well. The snow leopard was distracted, detached from the world and he drifted about base, doing things that he normally did, just without any thought or emotion. Like one of Torbjorn’s machines, he operated and hardly rested. Jack barely felt Gabriel’s grip around him, tightening night after night, but he felt the sighs, keen and troubled against golden nape.

               It seemed like time would simply pass by and Jesse would not just magically reappeared, scraped up but grinning that crooked grin of his and his brown eyes freed of the burdens that weighted down a brutal childhood. It wouldn’t happen, Jack told himself, and the pain wouldn’t disappear even if he was given enough work to break his neck under. Days passed by slow and aching like a splinter stuck under his skin, prickling his nerves at every turn.

               Gabriel’s sudden absence spiked it up worse. Could have been an emergency mission, but the panther never went anywhere without telling Jack of it first, at least with a call or a text. Nobody at base knew where Gabriel went either and even though Jack knew it was irrational of him, anxiety reared its head, snapping at his frayed mind like a hungry snake. One day turned into five, even Ana had to make a concerned remark about how much paler and sick Jack looked. And he was only a hair away from demanding a search party when Gabriel finally marched back, dishevelled but triumphant.

                Jack flew at the panther’s face.

               “GABRIEL REYES!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME OF YOUR MISSIO-oh, lord, is that Jesse- what happened to Jesse?! Why is he all bruised, are you o-??”

               “I’m alright, dad.” Jesse’s voice was soft, but his expression was serene. It cut through Jack’s rambling and the leopard zeroed in on the coyote pup, shaking a little.

               “Wait, dad???” His own voice was faint in his ears, fingers inches away from touching a huge bruise on Jesse’s cheek. Rage would have erupted, but shock kept everything frozen solid.

               “Gabriel told me I can call you dad now…” There was uncertainty in the pup’s eyes now with just an edge of swirling fear. Like he was afraid Jack wouldn’t accept him. The leopard had to bite his own lip to prevent a sob from escaping, arms slowly weaving themselves around both Gabriel and Jesse. The panther pulled him in the rest of the way.

               This time, Jack did let out a sniffle, “Gabe, you didn’t-…”

               With his face against the crook of Gabriel’s neck, Jack couldn’t see, but he could practically hear the panther rolling his eyes, “Oh, I so did. I even did all the paperwork for you.”

               The crash of those words was sudden, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was the complete opposite as warmth exploded in every cell of Jack’s body. The snow leopard squeezed both Gabriel and Jesse against himself, laughing deliriously at this feeling of impossible happiness. Jesse’s little feet and elbows digging into his sides, small pointed ears tickling his chin and trapped tail thumping excitedly…all of that reminded Jack that yes, this was all very real and no, he didn’t even care how Gabriel managed it.

               The panther’s chuckle ruffled his hair, gun-calloused fingers stroking behind his ears affectionately despite the oozing sarcasm in his voice, “Oh, now I don’t get the priority of order in welcome-back kisses?”

The Rebel and the Rose. Part 2, Chapter 4.

– – —- – – —- – –

Part One.

Part Two: One, Two, Three.

– – —- – – —- – –

Happy Friday folks. I just want to say a wee (MASSIVE) thank you to @lenny9987 and @londonerbecky who took a look through this chapter multiple times whilst I was cleaning it up. 

It’s gone through quite some alterations.

It was an incredibly hard chapter to write, but it has purpose. 

After this, things are going upwards, I promise.

But, after a LOVELY message last week, I do feel like I should send @anaspiringfuriosa some cake…alas, I can assure you that the boys are coming, I promise. 

This was going to be a couple of chapters, but because it’s the worst bit I’ve taken pity on everyone and lumped it all together. <3

——- —- ——-

The key clinked in the lock, the sound of the heavy door jolting Claire awake. She shook herself off, disorientated. She had no idea how long she’d been locked away, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days. Her wrists ached from the sharp metal surrounding them, her soft skin irritated and sore from where she’d tugged at her bindings. The black fog cleared from her eyes as the sharp figure began to come into focus, his bright red coat a beacon in the darkness. 

“J-Jonathan?”  He stood only a few feet away from her, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him, his feet spread resting solidly on the cold floor. His face was a mask of arrogance. A deep aura of hate surrounded him as he narrowed his eyes and smiled down at her.

“I see we’ve dispensed with the formalities, Claire. How unfortunate that we should meet again under such –dire– circumstances.”

“I haven’t done anything…” She began to protest, attempting to stand and meet him eye to eye, but her chains weren’t long enough and she fell back to her knees, the hard stone jarring her kneecaps as she landed. The solid tinkling of her shackles almost drowned out the sound of his laughter, but not quite. Her head whipped up at the chilling noise.

“Oh, Claire. You can cease with the protests of innocence. We all know they’re false. Remember, I have proof of your treachery.” He took three long, measured steps, his footfalls echoing around her. “But I’m not here to discuss that. I’ve come to see you.”

The way he said ‘you’ sent fear rolling down her spine. He stood over her now, painfully close. He was a shadow of the man she’d known years before, even then he’d been cruel, but now she could sense something darker.

“What do you want with me?” Disdain dripped from each word, the image of Jamie’s scars vivid before her eyes.

“Careful, Claire, I’d watch your tone if I were you. Especially after all of the effort I’ve gone through to keep you well maintained here. It could have been much worse after all, couldn’t it?” His hand hovered over her head, and she looked nervously across the room, not daring to look directly at him. The chains held her firmly in place now, stretched as far as they would reach. 

He had her at his mercy. 

“They were going to hang you straight away, you know. But I saw to it that you got a trial.” He began, almost wistfully. “You know, Claire, when you first absconded back to that witless uncle of yours I was most displeased. Our union was something I was anticipating greatly. But now I see that you did me a favour, so I’ve repaid my debt to you; we are even.”

“I d-don’t understand?” She shuddered as he shifted one step closer, the material of his trousers brushing against her shoulder as she tried her hardest to pull away.

“I have somewhat odd tastes, you might say. You saw a glimpse of that at Fort William, but you didn’t see what I’d in mind for him before that, did you? No; you were a pawn, a mask as it were. Something to keep my public persona intact. But now, knowing that you have similar…proclivities, well, I may have some use for you yet.”

The blood turned to ice in her veins. Her stomach, though empty, felt as though it’d been filled with lead. She didn’t move, and neither did he, but she could feel him, the starched fabric of his breaches leaning closer to her. Her teeth chattered together, the cold mingling with dread as she prayed he’d leave her be.

He shifted his knee and panic shot through her, the feral warmth of him seeping into her skin. “No!” She yelled, the cry falling from her lips unconsciously, anticipating what was to come. She knew begging was probably useless but, unable to twist herself away from him, she had to try calming him. Anything to stop this —this, whatever it was. 

Her heart pounded in her chest. 

“Oh, Claire. Do you not know? I’m not a slave to my desires.” His palm kept her head still, lingering as it was above her head. Her breathing started to hitch as she tugged her wrists harder and shook her shoulders.

She yelped as he turned himself towards her. Her feet scraped and pushed against the filthy stone floor, all the while trying to gain purchase, trying desperately to break the bindings holding her to this place so she could run, run far away, out of his wretched presence. 

She fought, and all the while he laughed at her efforts.

“Let me go, please. Please. Jonathan, just let me go.” She pleaded as she pulled at her wrists, twisting and yanking the manacles. Everything she did was in vain; he had her trapped.

“It’s Captain Randall to you! Remember that, Claire, and this is me. You cannot barter with me, beg me or appeal to my better nature. I do not have one. I dwell in darkness, it does not possess me, I possess it!” 

He snorted as he turned on his heel, aiming for the door. 

His footsteps halted for a moment as he finished. “You’d be wise to remember what I’m capable of, Claire. You are here at my pleasure, and I will take what is mine. I can hurt you anytime the mood strikes me, anytime. If you wish to see daylight ever again, you’d better start cooperating.”

She heard the loud boom of the lock as he prepared to leave, she held her breath, her chest pulsing with the pressure of it.

“It’s so freeing, isn’t it Claire, to unleash your true nature; to show someone your true face.” He laughed, the sound of it low and serious. “You let a barbarian take you to his bed, have his way with you. You’re as depraved as I, aren’t you?”

The door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the cell as Randall’s footsteps faded down the long corridor. The moment silence surrounded her she lurched upright and lost the contents of her stomach, bile rushing up her throat and spilling out into the muck at her feet. She gagged, her hands shaking relentlessly as she held them against her lips, trying to stem her sobs. The steady chinking of the chains rattled around her as she wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked. Having never been mistreated before, his threat of brutal physical assault buried a knife deep within her, tearing apart the modicum of safety she’d felt only moments before.

She’d prepared herself for their rough hands, for torture even, she’d practically expected the noose. But the actuality of it had shaken her. "Please,“ she whispered into the blackness, before finally fading into unconsciousness. 


"I see you’ve stopped protesting your innocence, that’s something at least.”

Claire had been curled up on her side, dozing a little when the voice rang out from the doorway behind her. She jumped, startled that she hadn’t heard anyone enter. She pushed herself to her feet and turned to face her visitor.

Captain Randall stood tall and proud in front of her, she smiled a dark smile, seeing the dead look behind his eyes.

“I have nothing more to say.”

“Oh, but I think you do. I certainly think you have more to say about a certain, James Fraser. Someone we both know quite intimately, wouldn’t you say?”

She shook her head, keeping her mouth shut on the matter.

“I don’t know who you mean.” She turned her back on him then, afraid her face would give away her reaction. The mention of his name caused her heart to crack even more, the pain of his leaving renewed within her.

“Now that’s where you’re lying, isn’t it Claire. I have an exact description of him from a resident close to you. He said he saw this man leave your door and follow you out and back again. I’m inclined to believe you had him locked away. The evidence he presented to us is enough for us to hang you.” He shook the keys in his hands, rolling them in a measured manner as he took one step forward. 

“But you knew that, didn’t you, Claire?”

He walked closer still, his pace slow and measured.

“Well, if it were to come to light that he’d been holding you against your will. That would become a different matter entirely. Tell me, Claire. Did he force you? Did he hold you captive, make you take him to your bed? You could certainly make a compelling argument.”

She turned, her cheeks bright red. 

She was angry.

“I do not know what you mean!” She spat, knowing full well that nothing she said now would save her from her fate.

He walked straight up to her, his breath hot against her face. She stood firm, after their last terrifying encounter she’d had time to prepare herself. He fed on her fear and she wasn’t planning on giving him that satisfaction. No, if it was Jamie he were after, he wouldn’t use her to do it.

“Could you be carrying his child, Claire?” He spoke clearly and without malice. She refused to answer.

She’d crumpled to the floor before she’d even realised he’d punched her. The air flew from her lungs in shock and she curled up at his feet gasping and panting, unable to breathe.

“You’d better hope not, hadn’t you.” One swift kick to the ribs rendered her motionless. Her shackled wrists stopped her from pulling too far away but she managed to hide herself from any more vicious attacks.

“I’d give it some thought if I were you, Claire. I’ll be back, don’t get comfortable.”

The door closed behind him with such force that the walls shook. Claire choked out a sob as she massaged her swollen tummy, the pain throbbing up her ribcage. Finally she let the pain drag her under, the silent tears rolled down her face as she fell into oblivion.


He circled her, a menacing presence looming over her as she lay curled on the floor her fetters rattling as she tried to keep herself hidden.

“So, you still refuse to talk? Well. So be it. Twice daily you’ll be subject to dousing. Maybe that will change your mind.” His voice stirred a mixture of fear and anger and she pursed her lips from spitting her vitriol at him, knowing it would do her no good to bite back.

“Did you know him all along then, Claire? Is that it. Have you spent all these years hiding under false colours?” His voice held no anger, only curiosity. A general disdain that coloured his whole being. Still she remained silent. He knelt down and grabbed a fist full of her hair, forcing her eyes to meet his. She cried out a little at the shock, but kept her glare fierce. 

She would not allow him to bully her.

“Have you been taking that filthy Scottish brute to your bed, Claire?” Randall’s voice was low, sinister and she shook with the force of his touch. Still she kept her mouth closed, her breath coming in uneven pants. “It is of no matter now, of course. But what would your uncle Lambert say?”

“D-did you send for him?” Her voice was stunted, a quiet rasp that fell from her without warning. She needed to know. He looked at her with such mockery in his eyes, a slight smile lifting at his lips. But it wasn’t a friendly one.

“…and risk his coming here to save you? No, Claire. We wouldn’t want that, would we? Nobody is coming for you. Not him, nor your lover.”

He dropped her hair then, his hand pushing forcefully at her curls, so hard that she nearly fell, but she managed to stay on her knees. Curled up once more she allowed the tears to fall, hidden as she was once again from him. Her hands clenched and the chains clinked together sending the sound ricocheting off the brick.

“No, Claire. Here you will stay, alone. Guard!” His brusque tone chilled her to the core as she awaited her punishment. She kept her head down, her hair covering her tear stained face as the soldier marched in and placed something at her side. She had no idea what dousing might entail, but she feared she was about to find out.

The cold hit her like a blast of ice. The water covering her already frozen body. The thin blue robe that covered her shift, prison uniform, clung to her filthy skin as she gasped and jumped. Every muscle in her body clenched and her teeth slammed together.

“So now you see. I’ll make sure, personally, that you’re subjected to this once in the morning and once in the evening until you decide to talk.” He paced up and down alongside her as he mused over her fate. His tone light, as if he were merely discussing the weather.

She heard his footsteps get closer once more, her body still wracked with cold, her hair sodden and dripping as it clung to her face. He knelt at her side, pushed the wet hair away and ran one solitary finger along her jaw line. She had to hold herself still lest she jerk herself away from his vile touch. He laughed, a dark sound that penetrated her to the core before he gripped her chin forcefully.

She didn’t even attempt to conceal the fear in her eyes now, too numb to try.

“Oh, Claire. You don’t have to worry about that. Lying with a dirty Scot certainly saved you from that fate. Nobody will touch you now.” He pushed her face away before standing once more and walking towards the door. Without turning back to face her he spoke his last. “Twice a day, nil by mouth until she talks. I’ll be down to check.”

“Yes Captain!” The guard parroted back, slapping his feet together as he saluted Randall before escorting him out.

The door slammed shut and clicked as it locked, the sound rebounding around Claire for seconds after it should have ended. She buried her head in her manacled hands now and wept. The fabric of her garments turning her skin to ice as the frozen air swirled around her. The cell already held the cold, she knew she’d never dry. 

Claire curled in on herself more now, trying her best to keep the shivering to a minimum. Trying so hard to warm up. The chains constant clinking and echoing the only presence now.


She’d refused to talk. 

She’d endured. 

The corners of her lips were blue, her skin constantly twitching and shivering as they threw cold water over her day and night. She could tell they were beginning to lose patience with her, but she was unwilling to give in.

“This is getting old now, Claire. If you don’t start to communicate with us I’ll be forced to use much less civilised ways to get you to talk.” Randall slapped the two sides of his leather belt together sending the sound spiralling around her.

 Half conscious as she was, she noted the warning, but paid little attention. If Jamie could endure it, she would. She remained silent as they stripped her and held her down, her eyes trained solely on the filthy brick beneath her.


The daylight stung her eyes as her guards escorted her out onto the balcony overlooking the hangman’s gibbet. Her legs felt like jelly and her shoulders ached, but she’d not made a sound as they’d come to fetch her at the break of dawn. Claire had heard from one of them that she was to watch the mornings hangings. 

They had been assured that her fate was sealed, the governor would see her in the next few days but she was certain to hang.

She stood as the condemned were paraded in front of the baying crowd. Murderers and thieves made up the morning’s entertainment. She couldn’t help but gag at the thought.

“There’s something incredibly invigorating about watching a good morning’s work, wouldn’t you agree Claire?” Randall’s voice cut through the silence. His eyes cold and hard against the side of her skull as she continued to studiously ignore him. He took hold of the back of her neck, his mouth level with her ear now.

“Watch the fear in their eyes, Claire. In a few days that’ll be you. What would your Jamie think of that?”

She sucked in a breath, the pain of it sinking deep in her belly. As the horn rang out, the creek of the wooden beams below echoed behind it. The only sound after being the slap of the rope as it released and tightened. Claire’s heart was pounding in her chest. 

If he wanted to scare her, he had. But there was nothing for it now.


It didn’t even take a few days for the governor to see her. Moments later she was carted off to his office and sat down in front of him. A portly man, he looked as if he hadn’t left his desk in years. He eyed her curiously at first, trying to get the measure of her, his deep-set brown eyes filled with disinterest.

“Have you any more to say, miss? I’ve been assured that you’re not a big talker. That’s just as well, really. It keeps it simple.” Claire’s eyes remained firmly in her lap. “The crimes levelled against you are serious ones, there is enough evidence to condemn you. The only course of action is hanging.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She made no sound, simply held her hands together in her lap.

“You’ll get two visits to church to see the priests between now and then, the first can be tomorrow. No use in wasting a precious cell on you, is there?” His tone was flat, monotone, as if he were doing a school roll-call rather than sentencing her to death.

“We can add her to Saturday’s execution role, it being Tuesday now. Guards! We’re done here!” He hollered, shocking Claire.

No sooner had they been summoned than she was back, chained and alone. The governors voice still rang in her ears. 

Five days. 

That’s all she had left.

N.B: I realise Claire probably wouldn’t have more than one opportunity to see priests before her execution, but for the purpose of fiction, I bent it to my will :D…

la lucida (m)

drabble.

dedicated to || the best leader bangtan could ever ask for ♡

genre: fantasy / sad fluff / bit of smut

characters: Kim Namjoon

word count: 1656

a/n: I am a terrible, terrible person and this is almost a month late, but this was originally supposed to be posted on namjoon’s birthday (during chuseok) and it is based on a conversation I had with mari and this chinese folklore. it’ll make more sense if you read about the folklore first, but basically it’s a giant mess :’)


lucida /ˈluːsɪdə/: the brightest star in a constellation

Originally posted by jeonggu


July 6th. Day 364.

23:58.

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Piano Tiles pt 2 (M)

Originally posted by jinkooks

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, a little bit of smut

Words: 6.4k

A/N: So I did it, after weeks of suffering. I don’t really like it so I might rewrite it next month when I actually have time bc the smut sucks. But aside from that, this is dedicated to my internet potato buddy Elle AKA @thedemigoddeatheater! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEME QUEEN! (also, excuse any errors,I was in a bit of a rush, but I’ll go back and edit everything over the weekend)

“Love is short,

But forgetting is so long”

The velvet envelope you reveal from your pocket feels like tangible guilt in your hands. Even with all of its bend and creases, battered around in the delivery process, it remains a symbol of a promising future, of the goal you’d been trying to reach.

Panic urges you to rip it to shreds.

Instead, you just about shove the mail across the kitchen table to Namjoon, who only quirks a quizzical eyebrow at your bewildered expression. A moment of silence passes as he reads the address, does a double take, and meets your expectant gaze with a dazed expression of his own.

“Holy shit,” Namjoon whispers, running his thumb along the crease of the envelope in awe. He lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit!”

“Yeah, I know,” you scowl, burying your face in your hands.

Namjoon leans back in his chair and flicks open the envelope, letting the paper slip into his open palm.  After skimming through the document, he makes a funny expression.

“What was it again, that you did to get this?” He asks. “A letter of recommendation?  A full ride scholarship to the most prestigious performing art school in the country?”

You can only groan in response, the words making your stomach coil. “What kind of ‘prodigal showmanship and excellency’ did you display at Jeon Jungkook’s apartment, exactly?”

Reaching across the table to smack your roommate in the arm, you hear him laugh as he flinches away and tosses the letter back onto the table. You don’t bother to move your hands from your face, even as Namjoon comes around to drag your chair from the kitchen table to face him, bracing his hands on the back of the chair as he leans over you.

“Hey, kid,” He murmurs. “I’m proud of you,”

“Who are you calling kid?” Your face flushes red and you aim a kick at his leg, mumbling, “You’re only a few years older than me,”

Namjoon simply winces through gritted teeth and ignores the pain to gather you into a hug. You reluctantly reciprocate, curling your fingers into the material of his flannel. The two of you stand like this for a moment, and you’re afraid to let go; afraid of him seeing the shameful look he already knows is there. Your friend pokes you in the ribs to bring you back to reality, and you bite your tongue to conceal your squeak.

“So what are you going to do about it?” He prods, and when you don’t reply, he holds you at arm’s length, a hand gripping your chin to force your attention on him. “You have to thank him eventually,”

You sigh forlornly, running a tired hand through your hair and shrugging off his hold. “I know, I will,”

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