beaten awake

You Are The Wilderness: Part 2

Originally posted by loudestcrowdever

Summary: When Roan appears again an uncertain bond is formed and a risky offer is placed on the table. Will you accept it? (Part 1)(Part 3)

Life in Arkadia was a welcomed change from the fallen Farm Station. There was no more hiding in plain sight, no more scavenging, or living in fear. In the fortified walls of Arkadia, there was safety as armed guards patrolled every square inch of camp. There was food, clean water, and warm living conditions. There were families with children that freely roamed the streets. And, perhaps, the most surprising difference was the relationship between Arkadia’s leaders and the grounders.  

Sentiment toward grounders was much different here. While Farm Station leader, Charles Pike, had been enforcing a strict no grounder policy, Chancellor Abigail Griffin and Councilman Marcus Kane were working around the clock on peaceful strategies to unite and ally with the grounders. It was safe to say that the Farm Station residents and their leader weren’t impressed with Abby and Kane’s methods.

Pike was still leading a firm charge in his anti-grounder politics, but you weren’t sure if you completely aligned with his beliefs anymore. On one hand, it was completely logical to harbor disdain toward grounders because of the Ice Nation’s terrible offenses; however, you knew it was absurd to hold an entire group to one standard.

For instance, there was Roan and that piece of you that believed he was inherently good. If it wasn’t for him, you never would’ve survived long enough to see Arkadia. He showed you mercy, the same emotion that Pike constantly preached that the grounders were incapable of displaying, and if he was capable of such empathy then so were others.

Roan, you thought about him quite often. You couldn’t count the times he crossed your mind or appeared in your dreams, haunting you with that piercing gaze and surrounded by question marks. Why did he help you? What changed his mind or had he been leading you to Arkadia the entire time? Since Roan had been badly wounded during your last encounter, you wondered if he was even still alive. Even if he did manage to survive, you knew it would be impossible to find him again and receive face to face answers for your queries. You never imagined you would get the opportunity at all, let alone, so soon.

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Illya Request

Could you do a Illya x Reader where Illya likes her but doesn’t know how to tell her and later on a mission the reader gets tortured and very hurt (nearly dies) in front of Illya and later when she recovers all of the team is checking in on her, but mostly Illya bc he feels guilty? sorry I know that was a long request

“Peril, aren’t you Russians suppose to be tough,” Solo asked him as they got ready for the mission. Illya sent him a fierce look. “I’m asking because you seem like a nervous middle school boy who can’t even look at the girl he likes. Do the team, and your country, a favor and just tell Y/N you like her already.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Illya said with a stone cold look.

“Sure,” Napoleon scoffed, “but you should think about telling her, I mean if you did like her. In this line of work you never know what could happen.”

“Boys,” you greeted opening the door to the room they were in, “are you ready to go? We’ve got a mission to complete.”

“We’ll be out in one second,” Illya told you.

“See you at the car,” you smiled and left the room.

The plan was that Gabby and Solo would scale the building and search the top floor for the documents that Waverly tasked your group with finding. You and Illya were tasked with taking out the system and guards on the main level of the building. You got the security system down easily and accompanied Illya in taking out the agents on the floor.

With all the agents one the floor you and Illya smiled at each other, you had taken them all out. Suddenly a shrieking sound echoed through the first floor sending you on your knees clutching your ears- but it didn’t help. The last thing you saw was Illya struggling to walk towards you as he covered his ears.


When you came to there was a bright white light shining right in your eyes. You went to throw a hand up but found them chained to your side. You struggled but your feet and arms were bound on the table. “Y/N,” you looked up when you heard your name being called, it was Illya who was chained across from you. “Are you ok?”

“Illya, what happened?”

“I…I don’t know. There was this awful sound and we both passed out. I woke right before you”

“While you took out my guards I used one of my prototypes to take you out,” a man entered the room behind you so only Illya could see him.

“What do you want?” Illya’s jaw and fists were clenched. You looked at him worrying who it was and what was going on but Illya’s eyes were locked on the man.

“For starters, I want my documents back that your friends took. Other than that I just thought it fitting that since you took out so many of my men I take out two of your teams,” the snide man came into your view now as he stood between you and Illya. “So, where are my documents?”

“Go to hell,” you spat at him.

“Oh, feisty. I like it.”

“If you’re going to kill us just do it. We aren’t going to tell you where your documents are so get it over with.”

“If you insist,” he walked over to a tray and started picking up and looking at instruments. “And I guess I could start with you too; if you prefer Miss.”

Illya pulled and struggled against his restraints, “Don’t touch her,” he yelled.

“Oh,” the man said amused, “and why is that?”

“If you touch her I’ll kill you,” Illya told him, still trying to break free of his restraints. “And that’s not a threat, that’s a promise.”

“I find that hard to believe,” the man held eye contact with Illya and before either of you two could process anything he shoved a blade into your stomach. A small noise left your mouth at the sudden pain while Illya was yelling swears in English and Russian and struggling to break free. “See, what can you do about anything I do?”

“Hurt me as much as you want but don’t touch her,” Illya said through gritted teeth.

Blood was still pooling out of you even with the knife still in your stomach. A scalpel skidded up the fun length of your arm and Illya yelled again. Hours passed and over 10 things had been used to cut you open. Blood was pooling out of you and Illya’s voice was raw from yelling. There was a commotion upstairs that drew the man’s attention away from your as he broke another one of your fingers.

“Our team’s here,” Illya smirked. “And I’m about to keep my promise to you.”

“You might but first,” he turned and pulled the long knife out of your side causing too much blood to seep out of you.

“NO!” You heard Illya yelled. “Y/N,” he called as you felt your eyes flutter open and closed, “please, stay with me.” You were starting to lose consciousness. “Y/N, listen to my voice. Stay awake, Y/N, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t lose you, stay with me.”

“I’m sorry, Ill,” you said dully and slipped into darkness.


Your eyes sprang open and you were met by the uncomfortable feeling of a breathing tube. You slowly lead your hands to it and pulled it out of you. You pressed the button by your bed and a nurse and doctor were in immediately. “Ms. Y/L/N, how are you feeling?”


“Do you remember what happened?” You nodded.

“Where’s my team?”

“It’s past visiting hours, Ms. Y/L/N,” the nurse spoke this time.

“I need them. Please,” you pleaded and the looked at each other before the doctor nodded.

“I’ll call them right after I check up on you.”


“Y/N,” Illya bursted through the door and went right to your side, crotching. “Are you ok?How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better but I’m ok.”

“You’re a tough one to kill, Y/N, I’ll give you that,” Solo said entering the room with Gabby.

“We got this for you,” she smiled and put a large teddybear on your nightstand.

“I love it,” you grinned, “thank you.” You laughed at their sad smiles. “Guys, stop acting like I’m dying. I’m awake, a little beaten up but I’m awake and alive.”

“Do you remember anything,” Gabby asked.

“I remember everything up until he pulled the knife out of my stomach, after that I blacked out. What happened?”

“We took care of him. That’s all that’s important,” Illya said sternly, more to Napoleon and Gabby than to you. After a little small talk you found yourself drifting back to sleep.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Gabby stood up, “You need your rest.”


When you woke up again the stun was up and there was already someone in your room- Illya. “Hey,” you said and he jumped towards you in his chair.

“Hello. Do you need anything?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m ok. Are you ok?”

He looked at you shocked. “I am fine, Y/N. Why?”

“Not physically, I mean in general. You seem…on edge about something.” He took a second to gather his thoughts and you saw the wheels turn in his mind.

“I feel…bad, guilty, about what happened.”

“Il, why? You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly. I didn’t do anything and I should have. You almost died because I didn’t do anything.”

“Illya, you were strapped down to a table. It’s not that you didn’t do anything, it’s that you couldn’t. If you beat yourself up over not being able to do anything then I’ll do the same.”

“That makes no sense you were the one-”

“See, it doesn’t make sense. So stop blaming yourself.”

“I just…I don’t know what I would do if you died and I had to watch it,” he admitted.

“I can’t promise that you won’t see me like that again but I can promise that no matter what happens I will always fight to get back to you.”

He took your hand in his and kissed it, “And I’ll always fight to save you.”

By His Side

Hello new fandom! I started watching Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries and was hooked up from the first episode. Why am I not stumbled earlier over it???

And… oh my the chemistry between Phryne and Jack is my cause of death.

Phryne passed the foot of the hospital bed, her impatience paving the floor. Jack hadn’t been awake at all. She couldn’t remember exactly what happened, but she did remember the Inspector’s voice over the phone before the line went dead. She had sent Constable Collins, Bert and Cec straight to Jack’s whereabouts and they all knew that this wasn’t going to be good.

So it was in the hands of the hospital. Phryne could barely bring himself to look at the Inspector at first. And then, it was like everything came into view, clearer than it had before. Jack was strong, and had worst things done to him. Phryne couldn’t leave Jack there alone, couldn’t let the Inspector wake up without her. She sat by Jack’s bed, talking to him about nonsense most of the time; she talked about Jane, Dot, cases and even over the weather, she found it helpful to joke; it kept her from getting too sad.

Doctors passed, they took tests, most of them saying they don’t know when Jack would wake up, any time or as long as it would take for his body to recover. It wasn’t optimistic. Phryne held onto the Inspector’s hand, taking a hard grip around his fingers. Her hands were sweaty, a mixer of anxiety and her hands clenched. Jack felt warm, as he always ended up being, but it wasn’t his natural warmth. When Phryne thought of Jack’s warmth, she was reminded of a comforting blanket draped over her shoulder or a mug of hot tea. It was the small things that kept her warm, a brilliant heat that radiated through her and kept her feeling happy. That was what Jack’s warmth was like; it swept through her and made her feel like everything was okay.

This was a normal heat, that just kept Jack’s body warm. Phryne wanted to curl around him, hope she could spark it in Jack and make him gain the heat he needed. “Don’t you dare give up on me.” Phryne just managed to get out. She didn’t let her hand slip from Jack’s. She was tired, but wouldn’t dare go to sleep in case the Inspector woke up. She kept her fingers close with Jack’s.

Then, a sensation run up Phryne’s fingertips, electrifying the nerves in her arm and radiating her chest. A small grip of her fingers, then a feel of a thumb running up the inside of her palm. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” A harsh voice replied. Phryne looked up at the Inspector, who was coughing slightly as he seemed to wake up. She gasped, unable to contain her joy. She almost kicked out her chair from beneath her as she stood. She grasped either side of Jack’s face, planting her lips over the Inspector’s. It was quick and a little sloppy, a mixer of happiness and desperation from Phryne; she just wanted to make sure the Inspector was actually awake. She pulled away when Jack winced beneath her.

“Sorry… I probably shouldn’t have done that.” Phryne said, taking her hands away from Jack’s bruised and battered face. The Inspector laughed, but a cough soon followed. He reached for Phryne’s hands, engulfing her fingers into his palms, bringing them to his chest.

“I feel more alive when you do it.” Jack muttered out, and Phryne bit her lip, bliss and happiness taking over her body as she looked at the, now awake, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. He was bruised and beaten, but he was awake, alive and he was Phryne’s. “Maybe I need one more.” Jack smirked. And even when he was lying in a hospital bed, he still managed to be charismatic and smooth as he always was.

Phryne shook her head before sitting on the edge of Jack’s bed. It moved down with her weight being added to the small frame, and finally, she leaned down, touching her lips to Jack’s lightly, and letting the Inspector apply as much pressure as he was able.

Training for D-Agency

Translated from the official Joker Game fanbook, “The Mystery of Joker Game” (ジョーカーゲームの謎), which is acknowledged by the author Yanagi Kouji himself. This section talks about the various subjects that D-Agency students must learn before they graduate as official spies. Many of these skills were actually exhibited or revealed by the spies during the novels. 

Only a few of the most excellent students pass the D-Agency selection test. They undergo all sorts of training that is necessary to become a first-class spy. Here, we have put together the sort of training that D-Agency goes through. Upon reading through it, you will understand the extraordinary talents that they must acquire.

First, to be a spy candidate?
Even without being a spy, this training may be possible for students studying for entrance exams, university students, or “sharp, intellectual people.”
● Learn various languages.
● Receive lectures from professors of reknown universities on organizational theory, religious studies, international political theories, medicine, pharmacy, psychology, physics, chemistry, biology, etc.

Spy techniques that appear useful qualifications?
These techniques are recognized by the international level in reality. If one were to have a setback here, they could possibly use them in a different profession.
● Know how to use explosives or wireless.
● Know how to operate automobiles or planes.

Techniques that make everyday life fun?
Being good at these would certainly make everyday life fun, but there may be some people who dislike it because it is a part of “studying” and “training.”
● Dance.
● Billiards.
● Know how to seduce a woman, as taught by a professional gigolo.
● Disguise techniques learned from a male actor in female kabuki roles.

Invite even criminals to teach them?
There are several techniques that cannot be done unless one is dexterous. If an ordinary citizen were to do it, it would be illegal, but if they could be done, it would make one a beginner spy?
● Practical skills taught by notorious pickpockets and safecrackers who are currently serving prison sentences.
● How to open a lock with a single wire.
● Switch items secretly by sleight of hand, as a magician would.
● Open a sealed letter with one thin, wooden stick without leaving behind a mark.
● Speak about the fake personal history given to them as if it were really their own.

Sharpen the senses?
This training reaches a mental state that the average person can never cross with their five senses. The only thing that one can depend upon in any situation is sharp senses.
● In complete darkness, while only relying on their fingertips, take apart pistols or shortwave radios that are used by the different armies of various countries, then put them back together again so that they are once again functional.
● Simply from listening to a gunshot, they must determine what type of gun it is, and on the spot, determine how many bullets the applicable gun can be loaded with, whether it can rapid-fire or not, and other advantages or disadvantages.
● Instantly read and memorize the backward writing that is reflected in a mirror.

Push one to the ends of their mind and body?
This training anticipates the harsh challenges physically and emotionally that a spy faces on the job. A person can’t be called an excellent spy until they are able to do this.
● Swim in cold water with their clothes still on, and without taking a single nap all throughout the night as they move, recall a complicated passage that they were made to memorize in full only the previous day, as if it were their own language.
● Be beaten awake in the dead of night, taken to an isolation cell, and undergo interrogation training for several hours, or even several days depending on the situation. Since the interrogation is full-scale, there is also physical violence and the use of truth serums involved.

y e l l o w

For Chantal { @brvkker } for the @jeanmoreaunet gift exchange!! I’m sorry it’s so late, I just got to my laptop :(((


Jean was awake. It was midnight exactly, and Jean Moreau was awake and alive. Normally, at this hour, he’d be awake and barely alive. Awake and beaten. Awake and bruised. Awake and bleeding out from every scratch left across his body and every well of bloody memories leaking from his brain. Normally, Jean never had any way to comfort himself besides sleep. And even in sleep, he was not safe, not from Riko, not from the world, not from himself. But normally had changed.

Now, normally was tan arms and freckles. Normally was playing hard but having a hand help you back up. Normally was toothy grins and respectfulness of space.

“Yes, mon cherie?”

Normally was French phrases of endearment instead of fervent cries for help.

“Why are you awake? Is something wrong?”

Normally was knowing that one person on this Earth cared about you. Normally was having an at least added to that phrase.

“No, mon ange, it’s okay.”

Normally was meaning the words “I’m fine.”

“Why are you awake then?” Jean smiled at Jeremy’s persistence in ensuring Jean was alright.

“I’m just looking at the stars,” Jean’s voice was soft, a tone Jeremy didn’t hear often unless they were alone together. The mattress creaked quietly in protest as Jeremy abandoned the covers for wrapping Jean in his arms.

“When was the last time you really got to look at the stars? Not just stare wistfully out a window,” Jeremy’s tone matched Jean’s, a gentle one that made a warmth spread behind Jean’s chest.


“C’mon,” Jeremy unraveled his arms from Jean’s torso and settled for taking his hand instead.

“Where are we going?” Jean inquired, an upwards quirk to his lips.

“I want to show you the stars.”

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Tokyo Ghoul - 9, 10, 11, 12 [End]

242nd Completed Anime - Tokyo Ghoul - 7/10, even though the last episodes were quite enjoyable. 7 isn’t a bad rating, really, but it’s usually the lowest I give a show that I actually enjoyed. Anything 6 or lower generally means I didn’t like the show. 7 liked, 8 liked a lot, 9 loved, 10 my lover. lol. 

Also, according to ANN, the second season has been announced for January, so yay for that. I look forward to seeing where it goes. 

Since I wanted to finish this before getting spoiled, I watched the last four episodes last night so this is a really long write up, even though somewhere towards the end I stopped writing because I wanted to continue watching and then just wrote about the actual finale later on.

Spoilers all over the place. 

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Sometimes the only way to stop your heart from breaking is to pretend it simply doesn’t exist, in the same way that often demons can only be beaten by laying awake in the pitch black darkness of 4am, ignoring their calls until they scream a little quieter.
Sometimes letting go means accepting that further down the track you’ll settle for someone second best, and preparing yourself to be okay with it, though no matter how any times you tell yourself settling is easier to accept than the feeling of love being ripped from your chest a thousand times over, it will never feel any more truthful.
—  Lying to myself over you is less painful than the lies you filled me with.