and it sounds like he killed her for joy

You’re gonna have to pull the trigger, then

For @nataliecrown and @alienor-woods, those beautiful monsters.  Post 410 spec.

A gunshot cracked near his ear and echoed in the small chamber.  Bellamy stopped and saw the perfect round hole where it was buried in the thick cement wall, his brain not fully comprehending what he saw.  He was still thinking about Octavia, left out in the black rain, a wave of fire bearing down on her.  The present was oddly flat and meaningless compared to that;, unreal and distant.

“Bellamy, please,” Clarke begged.

Slowly, he dragged his eyes from the bullet hole to her face.  Her eyes were dark, cold pits, fear and sadness etched into the creases in her forehead.  “What are you doing?” he asked, his ears still ringing.  His vision tunneled as he stared at the gun.

The gun in Clarke’s hand.

The gun pointed at him.

“What I have to.  Like always,” she replied.  The gun was trembling but her jaw was set.  Determined.

Determined to shoot him.

“Octavia’s out there,” he pleaded.  “She’s— she’s out there.  You can’t expect me to—”

“– if you open that door, we die,” Clarke interrupted.  “All of us.  I can’t let that happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said, her voice breaking.  Tears filled her eyes but didn’t fall.  “After what I did— they’ll kill us for it.  I have no choice.  This is…this is who I need to be.”

The words landed like a body blow.  He’d said that to her once in a vain attempt at comfort and hearing them now sent ice down his spine.  But her hand was still shaking and a tear fell, so he took a step down and then another.  “Then do it,” he said, thankful his voice was steady.  His heart was cracking in two but he sounded sure; certain.

“Bellamy,” she whispered.

“You know I won’t leave her out there.  So do it,” he urged.  “This is who you need to be, right?  If you believe that, then do it.  Kill me.”

“Bellamy, please,” she repeated.

“You have no choice,” he spat.  He reached the floor but she didn’t lower the gun, just swallowed hard.  “And neither do I.  That’s my sister out there.  So if you’re going to shoot me, shoot me.”  

He walked towards her and Clarke shook her head in despair.  “Don’t do this, please.  You know— you know I can’t.  I need you.”

“Do you?”  His mind was clearing now, disbelief giving way to anger.  You need me?  You left me.  And now you might kill me.

“I do,” she said, and it sounded like a sob.  He drew closer, the gun still between them.  “You know I do.  I— I made sure you were safe.  I couldn’t do this without you.”  She took a shuddering breath.  “I love you,” she said, and it felt like a slap.

In another life those words might have brought him joy, but now they just pissed him off.  “Then choose,” he growled, and stepped right up to her.  The barrel of the gun pressed into his sternum; cold and hard and deadly.  “Do it, or let me save my sister.”  

Clarke met his gaze and he saw his death flicker there.  He swallowed, not letting himself break, and wondered if she’d do it.  A tear tracked down her cheek, then another and then another.  And then the moment passed. 

“They’ll kill us,” she protested, but Bellamy just wrapped his hand around hers and slowly tugged the gun away from his chest.  It clattered to the floor and they collapsed into one another, Clarke’s face mashing against his shoulder and his arms coming up to hold her.  The anger that had flared in his gut dimmed— not yet cold ash, but no longer threatening to consume him.  Clarke sobbed and he felt his own tears start to fall fall.  “I did what I had to,” she kept murmuring, and he smoothed her hair down and nodded.

Because this world wasn’t fair and never would be.

Finding Lucille

This is for “Ash’s Negan Writing Challenge.” My prompt was “Negan x OC x Lucille.”

Negan x Reader (y/n)

Warnings ~ Negan language

2000 words

I am tagging my usuals. If you want on or off my list, please let me know!

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Quill and Charlie meet a kitten for the first time. (I’m not that confident writing class fanfic so feedback would be super!!!)

“Matti! It’s eyes! It’s rolling about! What do I do?” Charlie hesitantly beamed as he became more and more amused by the kitten on the living room rug.
“Were there no kittens on Rhodia?” Tanya asked as Matteusz picked up the small bundle of fur and gently laid it in Charlie’s arms.
It rolled about and squirmed in his boyfriends arms but slowly melted into the curve of his hold.
Charlie’s face lit up with joy.
“I think I might cry.” Charlie mumbled as it let out a little meow.
“No. There weren’t. One of the only decent things about earth if I’m honest” Quill sighed. She crossed one leg over the other and glared at Charlie.
Charlie was making inaudible noises in reaction to the kittens adorable nature.
“Do you have to sound like a 4 year old.” Quill bluntly muttered.
Charlie sourly scowled at Quill.
“Give the cat to her Charlie.” Ram said.
“She’d kill it!” Charlie defensively remarked.
“I won’t let the nasty quill hurt you.” Charlie mumbled as he looked into the kittens eyes.
April, who was sat cross legged next to ram stood up and walked over to Charlie. She lifted the kitten slowly out of Charlie’s arms, despite his disapproval, and into Quill’s reluctant lap.
The kitten looked up at the woman.
They shared a moment of dangerous eye contact.
“See it doesn’t even like her!” Charlie proclaimed.
“I’ll uh… I’ll be the judge of that Charles.” Quill quietly said as her eyes gazed at the kitten curling up into her lap.
She hesitantly placed her hand on its soft white fur. She smiled. It’s purr became louder as she stroked it’s white body.
Quill didn’t speak for a solid ten minutes. She was completley in awe of this ball of adorable fur in her lap. It’s breath was slow and tranquil as it slept.
“Quill?” Matteusz asked.
She looked up with a tear in her eye.
“What.” She said.
“Are you okay?’ He asked.
Quill used her free hand to wipe the tear.
"It’s asleep. It’s too… I.” She began.
She lifted the small kitten up and held it in her arms like a baby. It’s small eyes opened, the wide black pupils meeting hers. It let out a soft meow, curling into Quill’s embrace. It slept once more.
“Are there more cats?” Quill asked.
Matteusz nodded.
“You can get them from people who don’t want them anymore o-” He was stopped.
“Who wouldn’t want this! This!” Quill remarked.
“I think I found my new favourite thing about this planet.” She added.

Colloportus (Locked Doors) [M]

Taehyung x Reader
Harry Potter AU
Word Count: 4,780
{Request Filled}

His warmth radiated inside the Hufflepuff common room, competing and effortlessly winning against the magical sunlight that was always present within our homey dorm. It reached each corner, wiping the dust from the floor and window sills like a fresh spring breeze. I couldn’t help but stare at the honey highlights in his rich chocolate hues hair, the smooth line of his neck, veins pulsing with hot blood that called to me from across the room. My mouth watered with want, my heart fluttered with affection, my brain buzzed with an overload of stimulation that made me forget how to use words around him. The few occasions we had conversed, albeit they were short, highly awkward ones thanks to me, he had always been completely nice and sweet. And that smile, god that smile. The way it took up his whole face and packed so much joy in one motion, it punched the air from my chest instantly.

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iggys-specs  asked:

our beautiful broken boy kotaro and him being happy with the mc. idc how i just want him to be happy. maybe she tells him he loves him for the first time. or they just spent the whole day together and they're just happy, idk i just want fluff

Yes! I hope this little drabble brightens your day~

I tried experimenting on a different stream of consciousness than normal, because I feel like Fuma is on his own wavelength. 

But I had a lot of fun writing this! So I hope you like it. 


It was odd, being here like this. The gentle breeze stirring the wildflowers into whimsical dance that caught her eye and she was sure that this place was paradise. That nothing else in this life would be as beautiful as this moment.

Someone called her name and she turned her head, a smile playing on her lips, one reflected in his own unusually carefree gaze.

“Kotaro.” The young woman breathed, grasping at his open hand, interlacing her fingers with his. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

And if his gaze never left her, never once strayed to the beautiful scene around them, she didn’t notice.

“No I haven’t.” His voice held a note of wavering joy, something it had done more in the last few months than in his entire miserable life. How could some like him have sound such happiness?

Still, as though noticing his negative thoughts she reaches up, straining on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, falling against him when gravity proves to be her undoing.

He catches her, and swears in his heart that he will always catch her, that he’ll be the only one to catch her and keep her safe. Even lowly worms, going for nothing but killing, have purposes and perhaps he has two. One of those is to kill Saizo, a thought that causes a desperate ache in his head and a burning on his flesh. The other is to keep her safe and to love her, a thought that soothes his tattered soul and brings him back to the present.

He doesn’t ask her if the men back at Takeda’s castle know where she is, or how she spends her days off.

As time has passed he’s decided it doesn’t matter, so long as he gets to see her, to touch her in complete freedom.

Of course she’s prepared everything ahead of time, he only picked the location. He’s never met someone so caring all his days. There is a blanket, food that she’s made, and her, the most precious of all, who having escaped his arms is perched on the blanket and holding a bite of food on her chopsticks.

“Wanna taste?”

He barely had time to nod before she thrust the food into his mouth, watching him expectantly. Her face was so serious, and he couldn’t help the laugh bubbling in his throat as he swallowed.

Her expressions were always so funny.

So he laughed, and she giggled.

Everything felt so right when he was with her.

The afternoon passed, quickly and slowly, in quiet and soft talking and loud laughter.

He remembered a moment from childhood, a brief idyllic scene, and it puts his hands to work, weaving a flower crown for his beloved, placing it in her hair and declaring her queen of his heart. Her blush, and the soft kiss that followed taking route in his heart as one of many precious memories he’s made with her.

She weaves him one too, a clumsy thing, and her pretty blush only deepens as she sets it on his head, as she wipes his tears away.

She’s too good for him, he knows.

But still she kisses him, and kisses him, till night falls and their day is at an end.

Till he sees her tucked into her futon, and till he whispers himself back into the darkness.

He loves her.

Feed You the Sky: Chapter 18

Thank you to @underthenorthstar for the amazing moodboard she made for this fic a while ago. It felt right to put it on here for the final chapter of our little fic. Thank you, a thousand times, to @shesafreesoul for giving me the chance to write the story in her head, I hope I was able to do it justice! And of course, thank you to all of you who have stuck with us until the end. I hope you guys enjoyed reading these guys as much as I loved writing them. But of course this isn’t goodbye to these crazy warriors, there will be oneshots :) Without further ado, here it is: the final chapter of Feed You the Sky.


Even in the iron grip of childbirth she was fearless, sweaty auburn hair pulled back into the same braids she wore to the shield wall. Ivar found himself thinking maybe battle was easier than this. They were faster, at least, or maybe it was just the bloodlust that made them seem so. Either way, Ivar’s patience—what little he possessed—was wearing thin.

Kára’s, though, seemed infinite. Watching her work to bring forth his child was something he would never forget, not until the Valkyries closed his eyes. First had come the small pains, in the dark of the early morning, and he’d rubbed her back until they subsided and she fell into a restless sleep. It had been nearly a full day since then, and the midwife finally allowed her to kneel. Ivar knew it couldn’t be much longer now—how did women survive such things? He’d heard the story of his own birth before, knew how close he’d come to killing his mother, and muttered another quiet plea to Freyja.

Her screams as she brought the child forth were primal as a wolf’s howl, and when she’d fallen silent, there was a new sound in the room. Small, squalling cries and Kára’s voice, hoarse from screaming, singing softly. Ivar was almost afraid to approach, to interrupt the scene laid out before him.

Kára was resting on her knees, tired and triumphant as she cradled the tiny, crying bundle to her chest. It was something sacred, the look on her pale, sweaty face as she beheld her child for the first time. Fear slithered into his chest, cold and unwelcome. There was no place for him here, not when Kára looked at someone else with all the love in the world in her wild eyes. She did not need him, not the way he needed her. What would he become without his little Valkyrie?

And then she turned those wild eyes to his and all his doubts evaporated. “Ivar,” her voice was raspy and weary, but her smile was radiant joy. “Come meet your daughter.” Ivar crawled to them as fast as his arms would bring him. He settled himself on the floor beside them and pulled Kára into his lap. She nestled against his broad chest and Ivar rested his head on her shoulder, gazing down at his daughter for the first time. The fierce blue of his own eyes looked back up at him, and his only disappointment was the darkness of his daughter’s hair.


After what feels like ages of pain, the absence of it is enough to make her giddy. The sound of her child’s first cry is sweeter than the her name falling from Ivar’s lips, sweeter than the half-remembered lullaby her mother used to sing her. It is husband’s love and mother’s song and father’s storytelling in one small voice. She is the sound of the wind in a winter storm and the spring tides breaking on the shore. She is life. She is Ivar’s. She is Viking, conceived on a field amid the slain and brought forth by a woman who moves mountains when she sets her mind to it. But most importantly, she is hers.

A new voice, hoarse and crooning, joins the angry little cries. Kára is shocked to realize it is hers, that she is the one singing. For half a second she thought it was her mother. Throughout the long months of carrying the child, Kára lived with a secret, gnawing fear. It was not constant, coming to her only in the moments when she was still. When the sword in her hand was not enough to hold her to the earth. When Ivar’s voice did not crawl over her skin like his loving hands. The fear is gone when she hears herself singing. She will learn how to be a mother. Women have been mothering through the ages. She can do it, too.  

Her hair is black as night and is the first thing Kára notices after the cry. Her hands are shaking with exhaustion, Ivar wants her to get into the bed but she stays kneeling. This is  much more important. That black hair is damp beneath her fingers but she can imagine the way it will feel when it is dry, soft and thick as Ivar’s. She can imagine herself braiding that soft black hair, gently working the knots out with her fingers. She runs one tentative finger down the slope of her daughter’s button nose.

The eyes open at the touch, blue and bright, piercing her like an arrow. Ivar’s eyes in her daughter’s face, the same eyes that wounded her that day in her father’s hall when she slammed open the door like a storm. It is funny sometimes the way that life circles back around. Once she had thought those eyes held only death, the promise of Valhalla in their brilliant depths. Now they are life begun anew.

Her fingers, more confident now, trail down the rest of the small body. The arms, the hands that will one day wield the sword Ivar gave her at their wedding. How can a child born of them be anything but fierce? The perfect little legs. Ivar is beside her, watching all this, she hears his relieved sigh when the legs kick at her touch. Untwisted, and even if they were not Kára would love her just the same. There are no limits on her love, it is deep and boundless as the unexplored ocean.

She guides the whimpering girl to her breast. The pain of it sharp and unexpected, a small needle in her bliss, but it soon fades into the background. She is sitting on the floor now, swaying in her exhaustion. Ivar is exasperated, she can hear him huff in annoyance as it becomes clear she is not moving to the bed. She just keeps forgetting. Where she sits is so insignificant compared to what she holds in her arms, her husband’s annoyance is almost laughable.

Finally she allows the midwife to guide her to the bed and she is glad of the woman’s arm around her waist because her shaking legs make her nervous. She is not accustomed to feeling weak. She settles against the pillows, sleeping daughter nestled carefully in the crook of her arm. She fits there perfectly. The bed creaks as Ivar joins them and Kára leans against the broad, muscular expanse of his chest.

Their eyes meet, blue and hazel, ocean and winter storms coming together. Ivar smiles, running his hand through the fraying auburn war-braids. She is so beautiful in this moment, holding his flawless firstborn. The love rushing through him leaves room for nothing else, for no one else but his little wild women. He leans forward, kissing her with tenderness he never knew he possessed. One hand rests on his daughter’s back, protective.


She is flawless, all he ever wanted but never believed he could have. It is a rare moment of stillness. Her chest rises and falls like the slow certainty of tides, and Ivar finds that it takes his own breath away. It’s late, the fire little more than glowing embers that cast fitful shadows dancing over Kára’s skin. He remembers the feel of her flesh beneath his fingers as she dropped off to sleep; the soft, damp cloth in his hands as he washed away the sweat and blood of her labor.

Ivar had known she was formidable, had seen her take lives without a thought. Watched her swing a sword, an unbearable hardness growing in his trousers as the blood of doomed men sprayed across her ferocious, beautiful face. And Ivar had thought, in those moments, that surely the gods smiled on him. He knew now that was true. Her ferocity on the battlefield was paltry compared to the steel she’d shown today. Ivar often thought of himself as iron, he believed the hardness of his heart compensated for the softness of his legs.

He wants to touch her, to run his fingers through her hair and ghost his hands over the pale expanse of her skin. He doesn’t because she needs to rest. Kára is a woman of war but she has earned this small moment of peace, and he will not rob her of it. Sometimes he still worries he robbed her of the joy of killing him. Sometimes he still wishes he could give that to her, just like he wanted to on that day they fought within the hazel rods. It is a strange impulse, but he never has been able to deny her anything. If he is iron, she is a forge.

His fingers are itching for her skin; he is so intent on admiring her that the small wail from the cradle beside the bed startles him. Kára’s eyes fly open at the sound, her body jerking into wakefulness. Ivar is already picking up their daughter, murmuring soft things to her. When he’d seen Ubbe holding his first child—a son—he’d laughed, mocking him for the way he melted in the presence of the tiny boy. Ubbe had been so at peace he hadn’t even seemed to notice, and Ivar suddenly wished he could take his teasing back. It is strange what thoughts come when the world shifts on its axis.

Ivar brings his daughter to his bare chest and she snuggles in there, eyes still closed, bobbing her head in search of her mother’s breast. Kára holds her arms out and Ivar hands the child over. The small mewling noises cease and all Ivar can do is watch in amazement. He does not know if this feeling of wonder will ever leave him, but he hopes that it won’t. His younger self would sneer. His younger self would consider him weak now. Ivar knows the truth now, because the miracle of aging is the gaining of wisdom. Forges only make iron stronger.

When Ingrid finishes nursing Ivar is quick to take her, to bring her again to his bare chest. The little girl sighs in contentment and burrows against him. “Sleep,” Ivar whispers to Kára. “I will wake you if she needs you.” She is too tired to protest, pulling the furs up around her chest again and tangling her legs with his. Her breathing slows in the space of a few heartbeats.

His daughter is warm and sleepy on his chest, his wife is sleeping like the calm after a storm, and his heart is full to bursting.

He never meant for this to happen. Never intended for home to become two people instead of a place but he would trade them for nothing. He no longer cares if his name echoes through the ages, as long as his name falls from Kára’s mouth with love, as long as the little girl in his arms will look at him with his own eyes in her small face. When he led his army into this small kingdom, he knew he was riding to his destiny. He just didn’t know that his destiny had hair like autumn leaves and moved with all the wildness of the wind.

Gangsta Luv (G Dragon fic/Ch.4)

A/N: Ch.1     Ch.2     Ch.3      Ch.5     Ch.6     Ch.7     Ch.8     Ch.9     Ch.10     Ch.11     Ch.12     Ch.13     Ch.14     Ch.15      Ch.16

Alright! So, I just got off of work and decided to give you guys an early present, posting this tonight instead of tomorrow morning since you guys seem to really like it. I’ll most likely start posting a chapter every Tuesday or Wednesday for now because that’s when I’m off and have time to write for those of you curious lol Also! Thank you guys lots for all the kind words! I swear y’all make my day with those!! :D <3 ~Ad. Red

Word count: 2,577

Summary: What does one do when their future is already picked out for them? Try to escape over and over again or accept their fate?  

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Tittle: Jealous

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

             Peter Pan x Wendy

Requested: Yes

Rating: I don`t know

Warning: Again yeah I don`t know.

A/n: This hasn’t been requested before so no worries. And omg thank you so much it means so much to hear that!

  “Hey my favorite lost girl.” Peter laughed as he ran up beside me, tackling me in a side hug. I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “I thought I was your only lost girl.” I joked, leaning against his side.

  “Always.” He chuckled, kissing my temple as he started running his fingers up and down my arms. I giggled and moved in closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

  “Hmm good to know.” I hummed, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

  “So here is the thing my little lost girl, there is another girl on the island, Wendy she was brought here by mistake. I just want to figure out the how.” He hummed, his words causing me to freeze.

  “There is another girl on Neverland!” I snarled, the few lost boys sitting around us jumping at the sudden change in my tone.

  “Yes but there is nothing you need to worry about. Once I figure out what she’s doing here I`ll send her away.” He soothed, running his hands down my arms in a sorry attempt to calm me down.

  “Why can’t Felix do it? Why does it have to be you?”

  “Don`t be jealous baby girl. You have no reason to.” Peter laughed, gripping my chin up so he could press a kiss to my lips. He smirked at me before walking off.

  “I still think Felix should do it.” I mumbled as he walked away. The moment he was far enough away I turned back to the lost boys. “Make sure that you keep an eye on him.”

  “But Peter..”

  “Forget Peter. You make sure he doesn’t do anything. Remember, I am your Queen and Peter has nothing on me.” I snarled, glaring at the boys until they all nodded in agreement. Once they had I turned on my heel and walked off.

  “Should we tell Peter?” I heard one of the whisper.

  “No way. She scares me a whole hell of a lot more than Peter.”

  “But Peter is the king.”

  “And she is the only one that he not only listens to to but obeys. Do you really wanna face that?”

  “Now that you mention it, no.”

  I smirked, pride washing through me. It felt damn good to be the girl that a group of boys was scared of.

  ~~~~Three Weeks Later~~~~

  “Hey Peter do you think we can grab lunch together? Maybe go to the edge of the water and just talk?” I asked as I sat down beside him, glaring at the blonde haired girl beside him.

  “Maybe some other time, Wendy and I have plans for the day.”  He answered, his eyes barely leaving hers.

  “Well when will be a good time to hang out with your GIRLFRIEND Peter?” I snarled, taking some pride in the fact that his tensed at the tone of my voice.

  “Later.” He snapped, waving his hand in dismissal. I growled at him, but jumped up, walking over to where Felix sat. As I plopped down beside him, I layed my head on his shoulder.

  “Peter still being an ass?” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “Yep, still fawning over his precious little Wendybird.” I sneered.

  “Want me to kill her?” He asked, his tone matching mine. It was no secret that Felix hated Wendy as much as I did. With her around, Peter was always off on some other part of the island, leaving him to deal with the lost boys.

  “Please.” I purred, the though itself filling me with so much joy. “I`ll deal with Pan.”

  “Oh you called him Pan, he is dead meat for sure.” Felix chuckled.

  “How are we going to kill her? I personally think dream shade in her drink. Just little drops. Just enough to make her sick, but not sick enough for Peter to worry. We add more and more until by the time he figures it out his precious little Wendybird is dead.”

  “Remind me to make my own drinks if I ever piss you off.” Felix shuttered. “I do have to agree with you. That sounds like the best way. She suffers and we win.”

 “Glad you approve.” I chuckled, frowning when Peter suddenly jumped up, crossing the camp to bend down in front of us.

  “Don`t even think about going through with that stupid little plan.” He snarled, his eyes locking on mine.

   “If it`s so stupid then why are you here?” I snarled, the sharpness of my tone causing him to raise his eyebrows at me.

  “Because I know you my darling, if I don`t put my foot down now you will actually go through with this.” He snapped.

  “Oh yes, and losing your precious little Wendy Bird is just a thing we can never have happen.” I snarled, pushing Peter away from me as I stood up.

  “Your still jealous of her?” He groaned, acting as if I shouldn’t be.

  “I am walking away from you now. Go back to you darling little Wendy.” I yelled over my shoulder, waving at him over my shoulder as I walked into the forest.

  “Y/n!” He snapped, calling out behind me.

 I ignored him, flipping him off as I walked deeper into the forest.

~~~~One Week Later~~~~

  “That is it!” I snarled at Felix, watching as Pan brushed his hand across Wendy`s cheek. “He has blown me off every day this week, he won’t lay in the same bed as me because he keeps sitting by Wendy`s bed side. I have finally had enough.”

 “What are you going to do?” Felix whispered, watching as he I stood up from the log and fixed the edge of my short green dress.

  “Make him choose.” I replied, throwing my hair over my shoulder as I crossed the camp. Once I was close enough Peter looked up at me, smiling as he met my eyes.

  “We were just talking..”

  “It`s her or me Peter. I`m not going to sit there while you throw me aside for that thing anymore. So it`s her or it`s me. And I want to make this very clear. If choose her I leave this bloody island with Killian Jones. He`s already promised me a spot on his ship should I choose to take it. He leaves in the morning. So I`ll give you until then. I didn’t come here to my a side chick Pan.” I said softly, taking some pride in the fact that Peter, for this first time since I met him, looked scared.

  “Y/n.” He said, reaching his hand out towards me. I shook my head, giving him one last final glare as I turned on my heel to walk back over to Felix. Once I was beside him I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards where Killian was sitting.

  “Y/n what are you doing?” Felix yelled.

  “So what is it love, will you be joining me or staying here?” Killian asked, leaning back against the tree to stare at the two of us.

  “I don`t know yet. He hasn’t answered it yet, hasn’t made a choice.”

  “You told him you would g with the pirate if he choose Wendy?” Felix gasped, staring at me with wide eyed terror.

  “Well if he bloody well chooses her I`m not staying on this island to watch him flaunt it.” I snapped, turning to glare at Felix. “I love him Felix. I am in love with Peter Pan and if he choose her it`s going to break me, these past four weeks have broke me. I’ve had to watch him choose her over me.”

  “I never knew. I`m sorry.” Peter said behind me, his voice causing me to freeze.

  “How would you? You’ve been ignoring me from the moment she walked onto the island.” I snapped, making sure to keep my back to him.

  “Can you leave us alone for a moment please?” Peter sighed, his breath hitting the back of my neck as he stood up against me.

  “Sure, you`ll know where to find me?”Killian asked, waiting until i nodded to walk off. Felix stood still for a moment, torn between listening to Peter and staying with me.

  “Go Felix.” I sighed, knowing that Peter wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. “I can deal with Pan.”

  “Fine but I`ll be in screaming distance if you need me.”

  “It`s sad you have my second in command on your side.” Peter chuckled as he walked in front of me. I sighed building up the courage to look in his eyes.

  “Screw the talk about Felix, what do you want?”

  “To talk! I`m sorry I`ve blown you off baby, I swear I never planned to do that. I just wanted to know how she got here and I found out she knew a lost boy named Bae. I wanted to try and get some information on him. I wanted to know how he got off my island, and why he is important enough for this girl to trick the shadow. That is all. I wanted her to trust me, to spill. She`s not you my queen, she`s not tough like you. She`s weak and needs to be trust you to talk. I never once thought it would upset you, I swear. I`m new to this darling.” He hummed, leaning forward to press his lips against my own.

  I folded against him, leaning into the kiss. “I want her gone Peter. Wither you found the damn answers to your questions or not, I want her gone.”

  “Oh darling. She already is. She`s been gone from the moment you told me to choose between you two. I chose you, I will always only choose you.”

Sweet Release (Milathos Fan-Fiction, NC-17)

Because we need LOTS of fictions, especially smut, to get us through the hiatus. I’ve been sitting on this for a while, not sure what to do with it. I’ve decided to drabble it, because any longer fiction should incorporate the newest episodes. 

Anyway, enjoy! This basically takes place before 2.09, where Milady has to help them get some information from a guy. Et voila. Enjoy!

                                                Sweet Release 

Milady slammed the door behind her, furious beyond the telling of it. She was also quite drunk, which didn’t help matters. But what else was to be expected, when she was supposed to be helping the Musketeers obtain evidence on the illegal doings of one Simon de Chapuys, and their judgmental stares made abundantly clear what they thought of her methods?
The door opened behind her. “Are you alright?”
Milady rolled her eyes up to the ceiling of the ratty old inn. Of course. Of course, there also had to be him. Following her with his dark gaze, his azure eyes burning into her as she flirted and lured their man in. She could practically taste his disgust as she got closer. And then of course Porthos had to get in a bar brawl — the genial man was usually the most levelheaded, except when he met a cheat equal to him in cards. The ensuing dust-up proved too much for the admittedly frail Simon, who retired to his rooms.
“Am I alright?” Milady huffed a laugh. “I was moments from getting what we needed from him, before your friends decided the night wasn’t exciting enough. Now if I follow him when he leaves it won’t seem like chance, he’ll get suspicious and run. And all evidence of his treachery with him.” She ambled over to the fire place, picking up the flagon of wine and emptying the last of it into a cup on the sparse table.
“I suppose we’ll have to find another way,” Athos said, closing the door and stepping into the dimly lit room. “One less subtle perhaps.”
Milady tossed a look at him over her shoulder, the beginnings of a smile loosened by drink. “You find my actions distasteful. You’d prefer you attacked him, in the open.”
“Yes,” Athos said, not looking up, busying himself with removing his pistol and laying it on the desk near the bed. “Clearer. More honest.”
“Oh, I see.” Milady leaned back against the wall, her feet half in the ashes. “You invited me on this merry jaunt knowing my way was not the one you wanted to use. You could have saved me the time.”
Athos shrugged, in the way he did when he wanted a conversation to cease. “You will be compensated either way.”
Milady’s head swum. Or was she Anne tonight? The lines all seemed to blur. “So, should I be reading more into this encounter than your Captain’s need for my skills?”
Athos frowned hard, his fists held to his sides. “Your — skills were needed. But we must work with what we have.” He glanced quickly up at her and away. “You may yet find another way to  … assist.”
“I could go out to him now,” Anne said with a wry dark smile, before she stumbled slightly back. “You think I couldn’t seduce him in my current state?”
“You can barely stand in your current state,” Athos said curtly, though he went over to her and pulled her away from the smoldering hearth, where the edges of her dress had been flirting with the embers. She giggled at the situation, and he had to exert himself to get her to move. She hung back, unsteady on her feet, and he was forced to grip both of her arms. Her skin was hot to the touch.
Anne dipped her head back and surveyed him, dark hair falling out of her elaborate coiffure.
“I have seduced men with far less of my faculties,” she said, and laughed lightly as Athos looked aside in distaste. “What? You would not hear of my work? I would think you would be eager to hear more confirmation that your false wife is indeed a faithless whore—”
“Enough,” Athos said firmly, with the commanding tone that always set things to rights in the garrison. It was a voice to be obeyed. “This ends. Now.”
But Anne would not obey. “He didn’t seem the type to turn down a woman made more willing by drink. Most men are not: a woman who is a sot is a woman who is a slut, you see. And of course once a woman is no longer one of the few that must be respected — mother, lady, nun — then she can be acted upon without any guilt or shame or thought to her wishes.”
Athos couldn’t keep his eyes from going to hers, no matter how hard he tried. His hands tightened on her too warm limbs. “You are not yourself. You will regret your actions the next morning when the drink is gone from you.”
“Actions?” Anne raised her brow. “You are ahead of me, Athos. I had not even proposed anything.”
Athos swore internally at her. “Good. Let us keep things that way.”
“Why?” For once she would not retreat, for once not obey the unspoken law between them of here and no further. “I have not been drunk in years. I find it rather freeing. And is this not why you do it? To engage in thoughts and actions without fear of internal condemnation?”
“I am not drunk,” he said, and wondered that of all the possible things to say, that was what escaped his lips. “I told you before that I do not take pleasure in your humiliation, and this is what this conversation will come to if we continue.”
Anne tilted her head to look at him from another angle, as if it would show her something she could not quite see. “My humiliation was certain the moment I agreed to this farce. Now is merely the denouement. So. If not my humiliation, nor my death, nor even my banishment, then tell me, Athos — what do you take pleasure in?”
Athos wanted desperately to let her drop, to storm out of the room and leave this cursed heated space. “My work. My brothers.”
“Ah,” Anne said, nodding almost sagely, though of course, it was also mocking. “Your work. To kill with the impunity granted a servant of His Majesty. I can see the joy in it. I cannot imagine the second part, but then, if I could, I would be a man and you the woman, and we would see what honor looks like clad in skirts.”
“It is not to kill — not merely to kill,” Athos redefined, bristling at her description of the life he had come to love. “It is to protect and serve.”
Anne threw back her head and laughed, a lovely sound despite the bitterness evident in every note. “Of course. Of course you would find your calling in doing what you never did before, in answering all of the unmet needs you were blind to at La Fere. You have everything now, don’t you? All the respect is yours, and earned! You are Athos of the King’s Musketeers, finest swordsman in all of France, leader of men. You are beloved,” she said, and the sharpness faded from her face as she looked on his, the soft open vulnerability of uncertainty returning. “You are. How very blessed you must feel yourself. How very complete. No wonder you wished me to do something for France, to feel. To you these sensations must be welcome.”
She was like a whirlwind, a mercurial storm in how she changed. It was painful and infuriating, and Athos fervently wished he could agree with her and end it with himself in the superior position. But her voice and gaze held more misery than malice now, and the man in him responded to it with softened voice and opened eyes. “I cannot regret that you are feeling now. I know too well what it is to become cold and hard. It may protect you, for a time. But you hurt those around you. And when you emerge again, when you feel again, you will feel all the weight of what you’ve done.”
“And that is what you desire?” She was not fighting him now, not challenging. Her mask and armor were gone as she searched his face. “To see me buried under the weight of my crimes, until I am crushed, my pride driven from me, accepting of the world’s judgement?”
It should have been. It should have been what he wanted more than anything. “No.” Taking the initiative, seeking to turn this conversation more towards her and away from him and his wants, he asked, “What do you desire?”
“Desire.” She spoke the word, and he knew immediately how wrong he was to question her. “I have lived for so long from day to day, moment to moment. I have survived. I have had needs — basic ones. To live, each day. I have fulfilled them by serving those who could meet them. I have taken each day with the defiant assertion that I will live, for one more day, I will live. But desire …” A breath went through her, deep and overwhelming and caught Athos as well, so that he was forced to become aware of where their bodies touched. “I have not felt true desire — not served real desire — in so very, very long.”
Athos was vaguely aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was not drunk, that she was, that he could leave, he had the strength, the upper hand. But then hers traveled up his chest, to his neck, his face. She wasn’t wearing gloves, it was her skin, only her skin. And she looked at him freely, without artifice, eyes damp and tinged with red, almost as if she had not seen him in a very, very long time.
He knew it was coming before it did, and yet he did not move. He could feel her arch up, smoothly and more swiftly than she should have been able to manage after all the wine, and then her lips were on his. He could taste the liquor on them, and perhaps it was that, perhaps it was only that, which confused him into thinking he was drunk as well. Because he kissed her back, opening his mouth for hers, allowing her in. She was insistent, hungry, as she had been that night in the alley. And he should have pulled away, like then, only somehow he was kissing her more, taking charge of it, and she was melting into his arms, her own sliding up to his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair. And she was so willing, so needing and soft and insistent. It was too much, and with what little strength he could summon, he pulled away.
“Athos.” Her voice too, that did not have the cold edge in it before. He wanted to see cunning in it, the false weakness she had shown to seduce the king. But the woman looking up at him looked stripped of all such tools, lost and certain and wild and honest. It was shades of the woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago, plus the pain of all the years since. He could not maintain his coldness against her, not this version of her, and so when she kissed him again he could only groan at his own weakness, his own pitiful need, and turn his face to the side, to her neck, half-begging her not to continue. She moved her soft cheek to his rough one, and he felt her breath on his ear. “I have desired you, Athos,” she whispered, as if it were the last secret she’d been keeping. “I have. I tried to satisfy myself with your death, and I tried to live with your pain. But I want you. I want you.”
“You … say this to all men,” he offered in a rough, shaking voice muffled by her hair. “You must.”
“I must.” She did not defend, did not deny, but did not pull away. Her voice was still in his ear, her arms still around him, her body still close enough for him to feel the beat of her heart. “Yes. Yes, I must. But not to you. You are not all men. And it is you I desire.” He could hear her breath catch. “Do you not desire me?”
Her touch inflamed him — he could admit that much. Indeed, he could not deny it, not when she was pressed up against him, and could feel the evidence of his need. He had been impossibly hard from the moment he’d laid his hands on her to pull her from the fire. “Why … why do you ask, when you already know the answer?”
She pulled away from his ear to face him again, again slaying him with those mournful, pleading green eyes. “Because you are not any man. And I must know your answer, freely given, from you alone.”
Athos knew what she was asking — that for once, she not be the seductress, the enchantress, the bewitcher of men with her wiles. She wanted to be the lady, the woman, the one desired for who she was, not what she promised. Athos slipped his hands up her neck, over the ribbon at her throat, which tensed at his touch. And then he bent down and with lips crushed to hers, gave her his answer.
She moaned into his mouth, letting in his pillaging tongue. Her hold on his hair tightened, and he wrapped his left arm around her lower back as he drew her further away from the fire. She clung to him, and she was light. It was far too easy to draw her across the room. He felt the bed brush the back of his legs, and he stopped. Some part of him warned him to wait, to consider, a part that was quickly silenced when Anne whimpered and rubbed herself against him wantonly. As with the wine, Athos allowed his body and heart to over-rule his head. He put a knee up on the mattress, and then in one smooth motion they were both laying down. She did not cease in kissing him, did not come up for air until his hands found her bodice and ripped, drawing from her a gasp. He was surprised even at himself, but she rolled against him like a cat in heat and moaned her acceptance. It was quick work then, quicker than he’d imagined, to rid her of the rest. He felt her hands join his where their hips met, hers searching out his laces as he pulled aside her small skirts. She undid his breeches with what he knew was long practice, and he groaned with jealousy and vicious need. She had him free soon, and then her hands were insistent and hot, and then she was insistent and hot, burning and welcoming. She gasped out his name as he took her. “Athos …”
His hand reached up to her neck and ripped away the ribbon covering her scar. He caressed her throat in rhythmic time with his thrusts, a twisted expression of love if not forgiveness, a perverse gesture of acknowledgment. “Athos. Please,” she entreated him, her hands on his shoulders, tugging at his shirt. He went to her, coming up to kiss her mouth, swallow her sounds. Because she was speaking now, an endless litany of what had to be lies. “Yes, Athos, please. My love. Don’t stop, don’t. This, this, I’ve wanted only this.”
He couldn’t take it, so he kissed her, which proved no better. For then she was enveloping wet heat, a liquor that burned its way through his whole shaking, shuddering body, as he helplessly drove her into the sheets. It was total abandon, for her as well as him — he could feel it in the desperate arching of her body, the way she gave way when he forced her heavily down, in how she spread her legs for his cock and whimpered against his lips. He had to breathe, and when he released her mouth she moaned his name into his ear, her fingers running into his hair. Her legs clutched him inside of her, and he could recognize, oh God how he could recognize, the signs of her impending cresting. His hands traveled down her body, over her chest and stomach, to find the pulsing need where they joined. There was no lie in the convulsion of her body, in the scream he finally rent from her. Just as there was no denial in his strangled shout of her name as he emptied himself, submitting at last.

anonymous asked:

Because I need some Jamie x Brienne in my life: "Shit, are you bleeding?!"

SPOILERS FOR THE JAIME ADWD CHAPTER plus subsequent speculation

She should have noticed.

She should have. Fine, all things considered, it’s probably human that she doesn’t pay attention to his irregular breathing until they’re far from the brotherhood’s camp. And considering that she’s also worried about Pod and Hyle - they took the other horse and ran the other way, and she really hopes they had the same luck they had -, and that she had rode the horse to exhaustion and that she was worried trying not to get them killed, it’s… not surprising that she realizes that something’s wrong the moment she feels something warm and sticky on her back, pouring through her clothes.

Considering that he’s sitting behind her and holding on to her back -

“Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Wench, I didn’t know you finally succumbed to the joys of swearing like all of us do,” he croaks, and considering how he’s sounding -

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aster4jaden  asked:

I agree with Diabolik Lovers, a friend of mine asked me to watch it and I did. It was meh I couldn't get over how badly they treated female protagonist. Also I love your VK analysis your thorough/brutal but honest, it's very refreshing. Could you do a analysis on Zero please? I've read loads on Kaname, and i've tried to feel sympathy for him but I can't after reading the manga and novels knowing he manipulated Zero at every turn while acting God like all I can think is that he is a hypocrite.

I’m with you there on Diabolik Lovers. Everything I heard about it made me want to stay as far away as I could. ;) I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my analyses! I hope you’ll continue to enjoy them in the future too! =) 

You’d like analysis on Zero, though, huh? Well, who can resist an analysis on Zero!

Meditations on Kiryuu Zero

Short answer: Zero is perfect.

Long answer: Zero is probably the most pivotal character in Vampire Knight. He is the source of its conflict, the source of it’s messages, and is likely going to be the source of its resolution as well by the time Vampire Knight Memories is through with him. He serves two key roles in the story:

  • He is the story’s moral compass, by which the heroine and the readers should judge the characters.
  • He is the story’s guiding light, by which salvation is granted to the characters.

Zero as moral compass

Zero is what I consider the “moral compass” of Vampire Knight. His values of right and wrong are the rubric by which all the other characters’ actions are judged. Yuuki, as heroine, has no moral code of her own but she guides herself by Zero’s moral code. If Zero had no moral code, Yuuki wouldn’t either. 

This isn’t as evident in arc 1, because arc 1 spends a lot of time challenging Zero’s moral code. Are vampires truly “evil”? Is he right to hate them? Zero’s morality is put to the test in arc 1, and he is tempered by the forge of opposition. In arc 1, he is framed for a murder Kaname committed, is forced to face his own vampiric nature head on when he attacks Yuuki, must devour his own brother in the most vampiric of ways, fails to achieve his desired revenge for his family, and loses to his inner hatred of Purebloods when Yuuki is turned.

It’s important to note that, as a moral compass in arc 1, Zero fails. Literally everything he believes is right and true is stripped from him. The narrative denounces his perspective and runs him through the wringer for it. 

However, something very key happens in arc 2.

Arc 2 validates Zero’s hatred through Yuuki and Kaname. Both of them spend the majority of arc 2 trapped within Zero’s old views against Purebloods. The same prejudices Zero had in arc 1, Yuuki and Kaname have in arc 2. Kaname’s are his own prejudices which he hypocritically judged Zero on during arc 1. Yuuki’s are a direct result of her understanding of Zero. Yuuki flipflops multiple times in an attempt to fulfill Zero’s ideals in the story–first she goes around offering to murder Purebloods who want to die, then she reforms the Night Class to stop children from being hurt because it upsets Zero, then she works with Aidou to make the tablets to keep the vampires under control as repayment to Zero for his blood. Yuuki lives her life in arc 2 by Zero’s creed–or what she understands as Zero’s creed. Yuuki even refers to Zero’s devotion to duty in arc 2, something she clearly admires. 

However, in arc 2, Zero, after being reforged in the crucible of arc 1, begins to move down a different path of morality–the morality of tolerance and acceptance. As arc 2 moves forward, Zero begins guiding Yuuki, Aidou, the Night Class vampires, and the hunters toward a new direction–that of tolerance for vampires, and for Purebloods in particular. Although Zero still mouths off the platitudes he spouted in arc 1, his actions tell a different story–he encourages Aidou to support Yuuki’s bid to restart the Night Class, he supports Yuuki’s pills, he takes Sara’s blood to stop Kaname but not kill him, he refuses to hunt vampires unless they’re already on the list. The Zero of arc 2 is a reformed man in denial; it is not until he loses his memories in Night 88 and regains in them in Night 92 that he is able to accept his new morality.

Because it takes Zero so long to accept his new position, he fails to guide Yuuki and Kaname out of their own flawed morality. His attempts to reach them both in Night 92 fail, and he’s only capable of giving one of them–Yuuki–hope. Kaname is too far gone by this point for Zero to reach him. 

Vampire Knight Memories takes Zero’s moral compass role further–how he feels about the world directly affects the Hunters under his care. Where before they would have turned on him for his acceptance of Yuuki and Ai, now they just chide him but continue supporting him. The violence against Purebloods is now at an end; Zero continues to support justice for innocent humans, and to support Aidou’s research in helping Purebloods and other vampires escape their fates of eternity. Ideally, he will reprise his moral compass role in some capacity for Kaname when Kaname regains his memories, redeeming himself from his initial failure in the original series to correct the course Kaname was taking. 

Zero as guiding light

It’s so funny to be writing this, because in back in arc 1 this would sound preposterous. That Zero is the narrative’s guiding light, and not Yuuki who has been promoted ad nauseum as shining like the sun, still makes me chuckle. 

But the light he is. First he is Yuuki’s light–when he leaves her life, she enters “the Deep Dark Forest” and loses her spunk, her smile, and her joy. It’s interesting that Yuuki had virtually no interest in outside politics until she saw Zero distressed over the hunter Sara killed at the ball. Then suddenly she couldn’t just sit at home (which she’d been doing for a year)–she just had to do something to help Zero. This is the same girl who, without Zero to shine the light on the things that matter, was perfectly content to just sit at home and wait for Kaname. If Yuuki is a “light,” she is but a reflective one–a moon to another’s sun.

Zero actually guides Aidou out of depression when Aidou loses his father–he’s the one who listens to Aidou’s pain, even though Aidou’s hurling accusations at him, and who encourages Aidou to support Yuuki anyway. It’s not Yuuki who supports Aidou and gives him a way out–it is Zero.

After Kaname abandons Yuuki, she at first remains depressed. But as soon as she finds ways to help Zero, she comes to life again. And once Zero offers her his blood, she is eager to repay him by living up to his expectations. She reflects Zero’s light all the way up until Night 88, where she makes the decision that takes the light literally out of the story for the next three chapters–she removes Zero’s memories.

It’s important to note that Zero without memories is still a light. His core traits of acceptance, tolerance, and kindness still exist even without Yuuki in his life. This is Hino’s way of telling us that Zero is a light by himself and would have been even without Yuuki in his life. We see this play out further while he is mind wiped when he gently chides Kaname for making Yuuki uncomfortable during the tea party in Night 90. 

I’ve said this before, of course, in my other posts on Zero, but once Zero regains his memories he actually almost saves Kaname and does actually save Yuuki. His reminder to her about what Ichiru asked of him gives her the strength to try to save Kaname one last time. His appeal to Kaname to defend the academy and not make Yuuki sad nearly stops Kaname’s plan. 

Zero-as-the-light is even more apparent in the sequel series. Ai literally learns the difference between “koi” and “ai” from Zero, not from her mother. Yuuki admits Zero saved her when he told her to live on for Ai in VKM 1. Zero saves Yuuki a second time in VKM 1 when he tells her to find happiness in the time she has left before she turns Kaname. When he dies, it’s very apparent Yuuki’s and the kids’ lives are no longer bright. Yuuki follows him in death soon after, and Ren and Ai are subdued and emotionally detached. His hunters clearly are following his example and have relaxed a lot of their angry, anti-vampire rhetoric. 

I fully expect that Zero-as-the-light will be very pivotal as VKM moves forward. I expect him to save not only Yuuki but also Kaname by the end of VKM, thus restoring his Vampire Knight title to him in full. 

Zero’s character growth

I just want to point out that Zero’s the only character in Vampire Knight who actually has a positive trajectory of character development. He grows from an angry, hurt young man who wants revenge against vampires into a tolerant, patient, forgiving adult who accepts the good and the bad of vampires and humans alike. 

Unfortunately, Kaname had no growth at all (he remained a stagnant character, as befitting an antagonist), and Yuuki had a negative character trajectory–she actually regressed as a character. These two will have to grow in VKM in order to earn their happy endings. 

Zero’s happy ending

As I was writing this, I realized why Zero can’t have his happy ending yet, in spite of his character growth. 

Zero is the eponymous Vampire Knight. But although he learned his lessons during the course of the original series, he wasn’t able to implement what he’d learned and affect the world around him. He wasn’t able to touch anyone’s heart with what he’d learned. He figured the truth out “too late.”

This is why he hasn’t earned his happy ending in the narrative sense, although he certainly has in a character development sense. Until he actually applies the lessons he learned in the original series to the new series, he won’t be able to find happiness.

The lessons he learned were to be true to himself and to not hold on to hatred. The problem is, in VKM, he’s not being true to himself. He’s holding back certain emotions from Yuuki in order to spare her feelings. He needs to hold her accountable for her end of the relationship before they can move forward. 

He also needs to guide Kaname out of the darkness, which was the task set before him in the original series and is the task he failed. Until he is honest with Yuuki and acts as Kaname’s guide, he won’t have earned his happy ending narratively. 

I might be wrong of course, but this is just my hunch on the unfinished business Zero still has in this story. 

Concluding thoughts

Phew that was long. I’m sorry I made you wait so long for this,  and I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking to read. =) Thanks for making this request! 

Bitter End: Taehyung [Pt.3]

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook

Summary: You were in a relationship with Taehyung up until the day you found out he was cheating on you with your best friend (Joy) all along. But few months after leaving, you decide to give him another chance… something you now wished you never thought because when he opens the door that day you see something you wished you didn’t

>> Part.1 | Part.2 | Part.3 | Part.4 | Part.5 <<

“Y/n?” you hear Jungkook’s voice over the pouring rain, no you couldn’t deal with him not right now.

You quickly wiped away any of the remaining tears that was there as you looked at yourself in the rearview mirror just before starting the car, “Y/N!” Jungkook shouts thinking that maybe the reason why you weren’t answering was either because you couldn’t hear or see him so he makes his way towards your car about to open the passenger door when you sped off.

You were angry with him as well, you couldn’t help but think if it weren’t for him you would never have come here to begin with…

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gail-shark  asked:

Prompt: Holly's date never shows at the Penny that night, so Gail buys her a drink and they both end up getting drunk and say things they would probably never say if they were sober.

Sorry I took forever posting this one. :) 

Pity Pals

“I see you are still sitting here.”

Holly turned towards the voice that brought an immediate smile to her face and looked up. Standing before her was not her expected companion for the evening. But the blue eyed beauty was the only companion Holly always hoped would make an appearance.

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Gruvia Week- Day 4

Sorry if it isn’t as good as the others. I had a hard time writing this one. As a huge Gray fan I’m still very hurt with the whole Avatar thing~

Pairing: Gruvia

Rated: T for language


Do it. You know you want to.

“No I don’t!!”

Juvia laid sprawled on the ground, bruised and injured, staring wide eyed at the boy she loved fighting with himself.

Before Gray started fighting back, she and the possesed Gray had engaged in battle after she showed up out of nowhere, along with Wendy and Carla. When she saw Gray, with his red eyes and dark marks eating half of his body, she knew immediately that that wasn’t her Gray. This… evil dark aura didn’t belong to her Gray.

But she never lost hope.

No, Juvia knew he was still in there. Somehow, she was going to bring him back. Even if it meant fighting the one she loved the most. And so she did.

Of course, Gray took her down with just a few blows but she never gave in. She fought back. She had gained the upper hand a few times but he will always find a way to bring her down.

Only when she hadn’t much strenght left, all her magic power drained, did she stopped fighting. She just laid there, looking down at the ground, doing nothing. She could hear her friends, her nakama, screaming out for her behind the strong ice walls of the barrier Gray had build for them to fight in. Even when Gray went for the kill she didn’t moved from her place on the ground. Slowly, she had raised her head to gaze at the eyes of the person who dared called himself her Gray.

“You wouldn’t.” She said in a calm yet stern voice, “Juvia knows Gray is still in there somewhere. He would never kill me or his friends.”

It smirked devilishly, “We’ll just see about that.” He raised his hand, an ice sword in hand, and aimed for her heart. He drove it down and… the ice sword fell to the ground.

“Over my dead body I’ll let you use me to kill her!!”

Juvia gasped and looked at the man standing in front of her. It was him.

Not it


His eyes, his dark blue eyes, the ones she had been dreaming of seeing again, were staring down at her.

But it changed as fast as it came.

Red eyes stared down at her now.

Well, if not her then… What about them? Your dear friends.

“Never you bastard!!”

And so it went on and on.

And all Juvia could do was watch in shock, as well as the rest of her friends, as Gray fought with himself, with his own demon.

Why the change of heart? I know you wanted to kill them before.

“That’s not true!! Now shut up!!”

A few feet away from Juvia, Gray was on the ground, on his knees, holding his head, screaming and yelling for the demon inside him to shut up.

Come on. Do it! It’s so easy and you know it. Just grab the sword and stab her in the heart. So simple. So beautiful.

“I won’t do it!!! I will never hurt her!!!”

Oh, but you did. Remember? You left her for six months to root.

“Shut up!! That wasn’t, t-that wasn’t me!!”

And your friends? What about them? Wouldn’t you love to kill them? Bathe in ther blood?

“I said SHUT UP!!”

What about the iron dragon slayer? He seems to be someone you’ll enjoy to kill.

Gray threw his fists hard on the ground, cracking it, and breathed heavily; his eyes shut in pain.

“Shut. Up!!”

What about the celestial mage? She seems weak. You can kill her in no time.


The little dragon slayer? She’s just a kid. A pretty victim to kill.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!!”

And the fire dragon slayer? You two have a history of rivalry. It won’t be too hard to kill h-


Tears fell down Juvia’s cheeks seeing Gray struggle with the demon inside him. She didn’t have to look to know that Lucy and Wendy were crying too. But when she did, she was surprise to see Natsu shed a few tears himself, as well as Happy. In other circumstances, Juvia and Lucy will have teased them about their brother bond and how much they loved each other. Gajeel was looking at Gray in absolute horror, as well as Carla and Lily.

Well, aren’t you sweet? Protecting your friends from me. No, wait, from yourself.


Slowly, she raised herself to her feet, woobling a bit, and step by step, walked toward Gray. She ignored Gajeel’s shouts. She ignored Gray’s screaming. She kept moving forward.

As soon as she was standing in front of him, she dropped to her knees, and hugged him tightly.

Gray gasped at the unexpected warmth and looked up to see Juvia embracing him. No, she can’t be near him. He will kill her. She needs to let go now.

“Juvia, what are you doing?! I’ll kill you!”

“No, you won’t.”

His eyes widen at her voice, so vulnerable yet strong.

“Juvia knows you won’t kill her. But Juvia can’t just lay there and watch you fight yourself alone.”

Gray raised his head to face her but before he could do so he screamed and grabbed his head.

She’s right there! Do it! Do it now! Kill her!

“NO!! I won’t kill her!!”

He tried to pull away from her but she won’t let him. She held him close to her no matter how much he struggled.

Do it!! Do it now!!


You’re a coward! You can’t kill her!

“I’m not a coward!!”

Yes you are! You can’t even kill your own friends!


Juvia whimpered, every scream coming out of Gray was like a knife through her heart. He sounded so desperate, so in pain, so vulnerable.

But she never let him go. Despite Gray’s struggles, his screams, his pain, she held on to him like she had back then in his village, when he had cried his heart out to her.

Why?! Why can’t you kill her?! Them?! Why?!

“B-because… Because I’m a member of Fairy Tail!!! And Fairy Tail doesn’t hurt their nakama!!!”

Juvia cried, not out of sadness but out of joy. He hadn’t forgotten about Fairy Tail after all. She could faintly hear Natsu’s voice shouting “Hell yeah you are!” through the ice and she smiled weakly at his words.

Gray gasped loudly and held on to Juvia tightly, like he was in deep pain. And like before, she never let him go.

She felt Gray’s hand hold what’s left of her dress tighter then ever so slowly going numb. He collapsed into Juvia’s arms, breathing heavily.

She could hear the ice cracking around them but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the man in her arms right now.


“Shhh.” Juvia whispered with tears in her eyes. “It’s okay. Juvia’s here.”

Gray wrapped his arms around her small waist, holding her tightly. “Juvia, I-I’m sorry I-I’m so sorry..”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Juvia doesn’t blame you.” She stroked his hair lovingly and he seemed to enjoy it because she felt his body relax.

“Still! Juv, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Gray-sama really needs to shut up now or Juvia will definitely slap his mouth shut.”

Gray shut his mouth, amused at her choice of words, and smiled weakly. “I missed you, Juvia…”

Juvia smiled brightly, and with tears flowing down freely down her cheeks, she kissed the top of his head, “Juvia missed you too, Gray-sama…
Welcome back.”

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, but neither of them cared. They were together again.

And that’s all that mattered.

anonymous asked:

you've been gone so long ! i know you're probably busy with life but could you make a quick like valdaya dialouge or something.. dying here lol

Just tell him, Zendaya convinced herself. It’d taken 5 minutes of a mental pep talk but she’d finally found her nerve.

After pacing their sunny New York apartment for the millionth time she finally dialed his number. In typical Val form he picked up after the 5th ring sounding all gravelly and sexy. 

“Promise you won’t  yell at me…”, Zendaya exclaimed before he even had a chance to utter a simple ‘Hello’

From the sound of the ruckus in the background she already knew he was in the  dance studio.

“Okay I promise because you asked nicely.  I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. What’s up?” Val asked trying to keep his voice even with his girlfriend of 2 years.

The last time she called him like this she’d crashed her brand new BMW  into a fire hydrant-4 days after receiving it. 

“How’s your day going?” Zendaya asked sweetly trying to deflect from the conversation.

“Good,  i’m tired as all hell ”, Val played along. “ But i’d be better if you’d stop beating around the bush. What’d you do?” He asked squeezing the bridge of his nose.

Every since they moved in together 6 months ago it’d been one disaster after the next. A week before she’d nearly burnt the kitchen down attempting to cook and do her nails at the same time.

And 2 weeks before that she’d lost her house keys for the millionth time.

He could only imagine what she’d done now.

“Babe I swear to god if you went on another one of those crazy shopping sprees i’m going to kill you”, Val gently threatened.

In the last 2 months Z had racked up over 67,000 dollars in clothes, shoes, and accessories. Val had flipped when he got the credit card bill. Z had burst into tears,  they’d broken up for 2 minutes, and made up 4 minutes later  with Zendaya promising to curve her outrageous spending habits. 

“No, no. Nothing like that… well actually yes?" 

He couldn’t see her, but he already knew she was sheepishly biting down on her bottom lip looking like a puppy who’d been caught.

"Zendaya are you kidding me right now ! ” He yelled followed by a slew of Russian curse words she didn’t understand.

“You said you wouldn’t yell…”, He could hear the pout in her voice.

Val took a deep breath trying to center himself before speaking to her again. While he was straight forward and hard as a rock Z was not. She was sensitive.

“How much?” He asked quietly trying to level out his voice.

“Huh?” Z asked trying to ignore the question.

“Zendaya Maree Coleman…”, He warned her. His patience was wearing thin and they both knew it.

“How much?” Val repeated.

“There was a sale…”

“Baby…”, He warned her again. 

“12,000 dollars”, Zendaya blurted out like she was ripping off a band-aid.

There was silence.

And then…

“12- 12 thousand dollars !? ” Val screamed unable to hold back anymore. “What kind of sale was it if you spent 12,000 dollars babe?" 

Val couldn’t understand how she could be so reckless with money. Spending what some people made in a year in a matter of minutes. 

Sure they were well off, but he’d grown up rough and his parents had instilled in him the value of a dollar.

Z on the other hand had been raised like a princess her entire life, being the only girl and all. 

"You promised you wouldn’t yell and now you’re yelling”, She whined hating whenever he raised his voice at her.

It made her feel small, and reluctant to tell him things. 

“I’m sorry but you broke a promise too ! We had a deal you said you’d cut down on your shopping”, He reminded her.

“I know, but this was really important to me…”

“How exactly are Christian Louboutin’s important?” Val quipped, already knowing her weakness for  luxury shoes.

Her closet was filled with enough designer shoes to feed a small country for life 

“I didn’t buy shoes this time !” She promised.

“Then what ? Some overly priced designer clothing?” He asked bored.

“No I didn’t get anything for myself. It’s for somebody else… this is for us”, She trailed off sounding nervous.

Now Val was confused.

“Babe you better not have gotten a dog…”

“I bought a crib”.

Now he was even more bewildered.  ” A crib? Why would you buy another house?”

He was going to kill her. 

“No no”, she giggled. “ A baby crib…”

Realization washed over him like a cold bucket of water. He slid down the mirrored wall of his dance studio at a loss of words.

Joy. Excitement . Fear. More confusion. And joy again.

“Wh-what? Are you saying…”

“I’m pregnant Val- we’re pregnant”, She let out a nervous chuckle and he already knew she was probably biting her lip even harder now.

She took his silence as disappointment.They weren’t even married yet. She was barely 23…

“Are you mad?”

Val finally snapped out of his shock at the sound of her angelic voice. The voice of his future child’s mother.

“No! Of course not . I’m beyond excited I think I nearly fainted ! I love you. God, do I love you. I’m coming home right now ”, He breathed feeling butterflies shoot up in his stomach and erupt in his heart.

“Okay and one more thing…”

“What is it?” He asked positive nothing could break this high.

“I also spent 4,500 on this new Gucci purse. Bye. Love you !” She quickly explained before ending the phone call with a click.

Val shook his head with a smile sliding his iPhone back into his front pocket  deciding to give her  her a free pass on that one. 

Now that she was carrying his unborn child he already knew it’d be impossible to tell her ’NO’  to anything from here on out. 

29 with bucky? If you die, I’m gonna kill you”

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

“Daddy….” She came running down the hall, curls bouncing and her stuffed elephant dragging helpless behind her. Her shrill laughed sounds as he picked her up and swung her around in a circle. “Pumpkin!” He said joyously back, over joyed to see his little angel for the first time a few weeks. Then she came around the corner, his entire life, you. His smile broadened as he set Y/C/N down next to his leg, and you waltzed down the hall, your curls bouncing also as you flew into your husbands arms. “Bucky!” you squealed like a little kid. “Y/N!” he hugged you tightly, your little girl holding his legs. “How I’ve missed you both!” he cheered, picking Y/C/N and bring you both into a warm hug.

A few hours passed, and Bucky was tucking your little girl in, and heading her a bedtime story about a lost princess and how the prince saved her from evil people. You knew it was altered story on how he saved you and you two fell in love. You listened quietly outside the door, and smiled when she ‘ewwwed’ because the princess and the price kissed. Then you heard his work phone chimed a couple times and your heart sank, he had just came home, he almost didn’t this time. You walked down the hallway, and grabbed the ringing phone and brought it to yours a Bucky’s room, grabbing his travel bag from under the bed and placing it on the bed. You sat next to it, and laid the phone on it. Bucky came into the room soon after, his smile faded when he seen your tear stained cheeks and the travel bag. He sighed and shook his head, walking up to you and kissed your forehead. He took the phone and went to the living where you heard a muffled conversation, “Steve… I… home… I…. fine, see you in a couple hours,” you laid back on the bed and sighed as you felt the bed sag under his weight. “Babe,” you got up and crawled over to him and circled your arms around his shoulders, laying your chin on his shoulder. “I understand Buck, and so will she,” He huffed and turned his face and caught your lips in a sweet kiss. “I know, I just hate coming home and leaving again. Especially for another long trip,” he lulled his head back, you crawled into his lap making him look at you.

“Its fine babe, I understand, if she wasn’t in our life, I would kicking bad guy butt to,” you stuck your tongue at him, he smiled at you, kissing you again. “I know, I’m gonna miss you.” You nodded agreeing.

The next few hours flew, you leaned into Bucky, when you heard the knock it was Steve here to pick him up. You got on your tip toes, “Maybe when you get back I’ll be pregnant again,” you wicked and pulled away, Bucky was blushing. You giggled, “You better open the door before Rogers breaks it again.” Bucky rolled his eyes and went to the door, Steve was standing there a sad smile on his lips. “Nice to see you Ms. Barnes,” you chuckled, “you too Rogers.” Bucky shouldered his bag and headed for the door, “Hey Barnes,” you called, he turned and stared at you. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Bucky nodded, you walked forward and kissed him once more, he turned to follow Steve, “That goes for you too Steve,” he looked at you and saluted. “Yes ma’am!”  

utukis  asked:

Omg cries tears of pain as I type this..... could you write zosan and "Didnt you see what I did?!" Or "I can't breathe!"

You~ <3. I hope your expectations were met? I don’t even know what to say about this except there will be typos because I’m not looking at it again XD. I hope you uh… enjoy it though. 

EDIT: Oh also I used both phrases again.

Rated: M

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