faded brick

phandominsanity  asked:

Yo do you have like a rly basic rec list of staple Larry fics? I'm rly new to the fandom and I'm trying to work my way through (the longer the better)

Basic Must Reads for Newbies!

Disclaimer: these are the fics i read when i first started reading fic in 2015. since then, i’ve read 445 fics (excluding the 2 i’m reading right now - and yes, i really do keep track of every fic i’ve ever read - and yes, I really did count them) and these are the fics I recommend you read when starting out. please note that there are hundreds of other fics I would recommend you read, but this list is for specifically what I consider classic, super popular fics within the fandom!

Escapade 146k

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He’s rich. He’s handsome. He’s reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

The Dead of July 117k 

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

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flickr

Brick House by Milica V

vernon; get lost in the rhythm of me

Originally posted by visual-17

Summary: She had less than a month to finish a project she should’ve finished ages ago, and on a whim decides to interview the campus radio show. Little did she know she’d get locked into the Thursday Night Lockdown with a certain campus cutie. Wow I’m sorry I suck at summaries please send help.

Characters: fratboy!Vernon/Original Female + various

Genre: Fluffity fluff (and if you count student stress a lil wittle angst)

Word Count: 5896

01 | 02(?) | 03 (m)(?)

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Jealous Much, Dude? (Jackson x Reader)

I am about to vomit I am so excited. My love for Jackson Wang transcends all boundaries, truly our love is an enigma in itself. But in all seriousness, I love this boy so much because he is a light of happiness in its purest form, bless him. I am so happy how this one turned out as well because I’ve been wanting to write GOT7 scenarios for soooo long. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I loved writing it. Rest in pieces igot7 who follow me.

P.S. Beware: After reading this you will realize how much of a kink I have for Jackson saying baby girl and dirty talk. /douses computer in holy water/

Originally posted by tenthousandmilesforwhat

They say the best things always come in threes. At least sometimes. Definitely not all the time. Especially when it came to the three of you. Things could get complicated. Fast.

Joined at the hip, with you in the middle, Jackson and Mark had been your closest friends since day one. You couldn’t even recall the day you met them because since that day, it’d all been a blur of hormones, stolen glances, ‘friendly’ thigh touches, long, drawn out hugs, and 'casual’ kisses. You’d promised yourself when you were younger that you wouldn’t ever think of being with either of them, they were your best friends, your brothers. No dating, no banging; it would ruin what you already had with them.

Boy, just because you say it doesn’t mean you mean it.

If you were you and Mark was Mark, quiet, sweet, and thoughtful; Jackson was Jackson. No words were capable of properly describing him, he was an enigma of doubled over laughs, bright smiles that crinkled his eyes, and the purest soul you’d ever encountered. 

He’d always been touchy-feely, but there always seemed to be a difference in the way he’d hug other people versus you. He’d hold on longer, treating you like you were porcelain and he could break you with the slightest touch. You had secretly relished the feeling of his lips against your skin when he buried his head into the crook of your neck. Something as simple as that sent heat pooling between your legs and you were sure he noticed every single time. Even the way he’d lean in to whisper something to you, his hair brushing your forehead intimately, his soft voice causing happy chills, and the way he would only make eye contact for a second before looking away and biting his lip made your heart flutter.

You’d always been a late bloomer, puberty coming later for you than anyone had predicted. Basically, your growth spurt began to fuck with his life as you grew curvier and filled out.

Jackson then began to seem uncomfortable being with you alone and overly protective when you hung out with other people, especially boys and you immediately thought he was only thinking of you as his sister. Even Mark, who you looked up to as a brother and was Jackson’s best friend was no exception. He wanted to shield you from all the dangers of the world; the only piece that didn’t fit was his strange behavior around you. Some days he was all touches and flirting, the next he was blunt and quiet, very uncharacteristic of him.

Mark probably talked some sense into him, being the eldest and most mature of the trio. Maybe he smacked him around a little for acting ridiculous and being even more dramatic than he usually was, but eventually he did confess to you. 

“Just tell her you like her, Jackson,” Mark groaned, completely worn out from his friend’s anxiety. “_____ isn’t going to wait for you forever. You and I both know that, so get your ass in gear and confess.”

You’d never seen Jackson so nervous before in all the time you’d known him. He was always so confident and levelheaded, always knew the right thing to say, that smooth lady killer vibe. With you, he completely lost all sense of direction and couldn’t even complete one sentence before he just kissed you. It was a typical Jackson move, no matter how well spoken he was, he’d always been able to express more with actions rather than words. You didn’t know what to do at first, all you’d ever known had been completely changed by a kiss from your best friend. What were you going to do now? How was your friendship ever going to survive? What about Mark? What would he even think of his best friends dating?

A million questions were before you, but the only one you really cared about was the searing kiss from the boy who you’d thought you knew everything about. And the only answer that mattered at that moment was when you kissed Jackson back, your arms around his neck as he practically bounced with joy and kissed you with even more enthusiasm. Of course you’d said yes. You’d be a fool to deny yourself love from someone who’d always loved you and been with you. 

So you found yourself fingers tightly interlocked with one of your best friends, the other one sitting calmly to your other side barely flinching at each jump scare. You practically were about to vomit into the popcorn you were so anxious. This is why you told Jackson and Mark you didn’t want to see the new critically acclaimed horror movie everyone was talking about, because it stressed you out. They taunted you and picked at you, until you said yes. But the real motivation for going was that you could cower into Jackson’s strong arms as many times as you wanted and he could hold your hand the whole time. That was the only plus side to this thing.

Jackson leaned over to you, his eyes smiling in the dim lighting as he whispered, “You okay? Remember, you can always cuddle with me to make the ghosts go away _____." 

He wiggled his eyebrows causing you giggle and swat at him playfully, "Are you sure? I know I can’t see because it’s dark, but I think all my fingers are purple.”
He immediately released your hand from his strong grip, looking sheepish as he breathed out, “Sorry.”

You were about to snatch his hand up again, when he leaned deliciously close to your ear. You shivered, feeling his lips brush against the cusp, barely hanging on as he whispered, “Gotta pee.”

You wanted to smack him upside the head, but also laugh until you cried. You almost would have down both had the stern look Mark was giving you made you quiet down. Jackson flashed his winning smile before silently slipping away down the stairs of the big theater and out the door. You watched his broad back disappear around the corner, the theater suddenly becoming more eerie every second he was gone. 

The movie was approaching its climax, the ghosts and demons haunting the poor family’s farm house making even more frequent appearances, which meant more jump scares. You sidled closer and closer to Mark, desperate to cling onto anything. He sensed your distress and calmly put a comforting arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm soothingly. You buried your head into his shirt, plugging your ears with your fingers as another scream ripped through the speakers of the theater. 

You heard Mark from above whisper, “It’s okay ______, it’s a movie. I won’t let anything get you, okay? You’re fine.”

You felt your heart beat lower significantly and you relaxed into Mark’s arms, feeling much calmer. You could even hear his own heart beat through his thin shirt, steady and soothing. You’d always been jealous of Mark’s nonchalant and cool personality. But what you admired was his selflessness and how much he cared for those around him. He picked up on the mood better than anyone you knew and was always there for you when you were in a tight spot. Mark really was the big brother you had never had and you really appreciated his friendship.

The entire theater suddenly shook from a loud noise from the movie and caused you to practically rip Mark’s shirt off his smooth chest, “Jesus _____,” he cried softly as he grabbed you by the shoulders when you practically jumped into his lap out of fear.

“Jesus _____, is right,” a voice whispered, dangerously quiet, above the gasps from the other people. “What the hell do you think you’re doing Mark?”

You turned to see Jackson looking absolutely furious, having returned from the bathroom and standing despite the angry comments from those viewing the movie. You were confused by his anger, “Jackson what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Just look at yourself first of all,” he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

You realized the compromising position you and Mark were in, limbs tangles, your hands stretching his shirt out, his arm around your shoulders, your head buried into the crook of his neck. You gulped, instantly entangling yourself from your other friend, “Jackson-”

Mark interjected quickly, “Jackson, it’s not what you think at all. _____ got scared, so I was trying to help her and I’m not even sure how it ended like that, but it did.” Even Mark looked nervous now, “I know it looks bad, but all good intentions, I promise. You know I respect your relationship with _____. She’s like a sister to me, you know that.”

Jackson was having none of it, he had always been so stubborn, “Yeah well, if touching her like that is your definition of respect, then I’m afraid you need to check yourself again.” He grabbed your hand, his face full of jealousy as he wrenched you from your seat and led you out of the theater through the nearest red exit sign.

You found yourself in the side ally of the popular downtown theater, graffiti decorating the faded red brick. It was early spring and a chill still held in the air. You shivered, regretting when you had taken off your sweater in the theater. You wrapped your arms around yourself to grasp for the little warmth they offered you.

You whirled around at Jackson, seething, “Jackson that was a real dick move back there. Mark-”

Jackson crushed his lips to yours, cutting of your sentence. He possessively cupped your face, drawing you closer to him so that your chests brushed against one another, “Don’t you dare say his name again.”

You rose from the kiss, dazed as your lips throbbed with need for him again. You snapped back into reality, “Jackson Wang, you are being ridiculous. I can say the name of our best friend as many times as I want.”

Jackson’s dark eyes were glinting darkly as he growled, “Go ahead. I dare you. We’ll see what happens when you do.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the raw jealousy bubbling below his handsome features. You’d never seen him so upset before nor this possessive. It pissed you off and aroused you to see him acting this protective of you, “Alright then. Mark, Mark, Mark-”

You felt the wind in your lungs escape with a whoosh as Jackson caged you against the alley wall. His hands bruised your hips as he attached his lips to your sensitive neck. You choked out a moan that mixed with a sob, letting your hands travel up his back and settle in his hair. You’d already given up fighting him, you were his for the taking and all you wanted was for him to take what was his.

He kissed a line up your jaw before roughly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper. He released your hips and pressed his hands against the wall behind you, his body away from your touch. He whispered breathily against your lips, “Who’s name were you going to say again?”

You felt frustrated tears pooling in your eyes. How easily he could make you want him; you whispered achingly, “Yours.”

He lifted a finger and traced from your temple, down your cheek and neck, before tracing round the curve of your breast, “Who’s name?”

You practically shook, the only thing keeping you steady was the cold brick behind you. The tears slipped down your cheek as you moaned, “Yours.

Jackson visibly shivered from your response, his hands coming up to brush the tear falling on your cheek. A hard glint still held in his eyes although his body had relaxed. Your knees knocked together as he looked you up and down, his lashes brushing against his cheeks as he pulled you close to him, his arms winding around you protectively. You buried yourself into his hard chest, savoring his scent and touch as his warm, calloused hands slipped under your shirt and his thumbs drew hypnotic circles on your hips.

He kissed you languidly, a smirk drawing on his lips, his eyes like shadows, “What’s my name? Say my name, ______.”

You pressed yourself against his hips, feeling his half hard member against your stomach, “Jackson.” You needed him desperately, he’d left you in such a state that you didn’t care if people on the busy city street could see him fucking your brains out, you needed him now.

You gasped when he slipped his hand down to rub at your jean clad center, the rough material stimulating your clit. You bucked against his hand and he let you, a smirk on his face, “That’s right baby girl. I’m the one making you feel this way, no one else. Isn’t that right?”

You grabbed onto his shoulders to get leverage when he wedged a thick thigh between your legs, allowing you to ride his leg. Your voice shook as you buried your face deeper into his shirt, “Y-yes. Fuck.

He backed up against the alley wall, his hands grabbing at your ass as he lifted you up until your feet barely brushed the ground. Jackson bit his lip painfully hard as he squeezed your ass with each thrust you gave, “Fuck, baby. Do you wanna ride my dick like this too?”

You could barely choke out an answer, the pleasure of your tight skinny jeans rubbing you was almost too much. He grabbed your hips and forced you to slow down, a smile on his lips as he saw how desperate you were for release, “Come on baby girl, you can’t already be that close.”

You let out a strangled growl, thrashing in his grasp, “Jackson Wang if you don’t let me fucking come-

He hushed you, still grinning at your furious behavior, "Don’t worry baby, there will be plenty of fucking and coming, soon enough.” He carefully set you down on the ground again, making a show of taking his belt off. Each clink it made set you on edge and if you weren’t scared of him suddenly not going through with it, you would have ripped all his clothes of already. 

As soon as he finished, you raked your nails over his toned stomach, feeling each solid indention of his abs. He was so incredibly god-like and sexy you could hardly stand it. You moaned, not caring that you were inflating his ego. He knew you couldn’t resist anything about him, particularly his voice and body, and you weren’t afraid to admit that. As long as you got a reward that is. He smiled brilliantly, nibbling on his bottom lip as you kissed his chest through his shirt, “Oh baby girl, I so wish we were at home right now.”

Any morals and standards you had previously were now gone. You peppered his neck with open mouthed kisses and sucks, “Who cares? You can fuck me anywhere Jackson.”

He laughed, but it was lusty as he replied, “Don’t tempt me ______.”

You were getting impatient, so you reached down and felt for Jackson’s zipper. The wetness in between your legs had literally soaked through your jeans by now, you needed him so bad it hurt. You groaned, palming him through his briefs, “Baby please.”

Jackson smirked, his voice husky, “Of course, anything for you.” He added as an afterthought, his hands running up your sides, “But you asked for it.” He pressed you against the wall in the shadowy alley, blocking out everything but him.

You hurriedly unbuttoned your own jeans, sliding them down your legs faster than you’d ever done before. You went to pull your panties down, but Jackson stopped your hands, “Don’t. You know how much I love ripping them off your body, baby girl.”

You shivered, nodding as he grabbed the sides of your panties and tore them off your body, making easy work of the dainty material. You gasped, as Jackson pushed you against the wall, his hard member already pressing against your dripping folds. He growled, a wolfish grin spreading across his features as he watched your squirm, “Oh baby girl, people from three blocks away are going to know that I’m fucking you up against a wall.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging at the hair at the back of his neck impatiently, “Jackson, please!”

He smiled almost sweetly and it looked like normal Jackson’s, but it was laced with desire and possessiveness. He thrust so hard into you that your head knocked against the brick wall painfully from the sheer force, but you honestly didn’t care and he didn’t either. With each snap of his hips, obscene noises escaped your lips and he wasn’t concerned with quieting you down, “That’s right baby, let them know who’s fucking you.”

He was bouncing you so hard on his dick, that you were afraid you would bite your tongue if you spoke. The only word you could choke out was his name, “Jackson!”

Jackson’s eyes were locked on your face, watching your changing expressions with lust. He raked his hands up and down your sides, tearing his fingertips across your hot skin, “Fuck, baby girl. Uh! Just like that!”

You couldn’t stand the sound of his voice praising you, it sent delicious feelings straight to your abused womanhood. You bucked your hips into his, savoring the smack of skin against skin. You were so aroused from fucking into his thigh earlier that you were already close to coming. 

“Jackson,” you moaned, “I’m so fucking close!”

Jackson groaned, his dick twitching as he grew close too, “Who’s fucking you right now?” He slowed down, making you practically wail in frustration. “Say my fucking name, _____.”

You beat your fists against his chest in frustration, raking your nails down his shirt, and bucking into him furiously. You hated and loved the way he made you beg for it, it was sweet torture. You happily gave in, moaning his name desperately, “Jackson!…

He bit his lip and sped his pace up, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. Each snap of his hips felt like one step closer and closer to your release. His moans after each time he plunged into you were so sinful, you’re sure that if you would be blushing if you could. Jackson reached down and managed to rub your clit, the feeling just enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you harder than you could remember, your legs shaking from the amount of pleasure that coursed through you. You walls suddenly clenched surprisingly tightly around his member and he gave a growl as he came inside you suddenly, “Holy fuck, _____!" 

The both of you rode out your highs, grins plastered on your faces as you winded down. Jackson slumped against you, pinning you with his body to the wall as he held you close. He kissed your cheek sweetly, a content smile on his slightly bruised lips, "That was amazing.”

You still didn’t understand how he snapped from this Jackson, to that Jackson. It was like a light switch, but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. You ran your fingers through his hair, straightening it from its disheveled appearance, “I love you, Jackson.”

He looked surprised, but it was just a slight widening of his warm brown eyes and shy smile that you realized it was wonder instead. He whispered back softly, every word spoken like they were only meant for you, “I love you too, _____. You’re everything." 

He sounded so innocent that you giggled as he placed you gently back on the ground, retrieving the sad remains of your panties and jeans. Jackson sheepishly handed you your underwear, "Sorry, they’re uh…”

You held the ruined piece of cloth up to the dim lighting before tossing them in the nearest trash can, “Worth it.” You slipped on your jeans and Jackson laughed loudly, tightening his belt without looking. He loved to see the way you looked and moved after having sex with him. The gingerly way you pulled your pants up over your sore hips, the way you look so satisfied and content. He loved it more than he cared to admit.

“Hey, babe? I think we should go find Mark, so you can apologize to him,” you  gave him a stern look, to which he replied with a pitiful pout.

The two of you waited the rest of the movie in the lobby, already feeling guilty. Mark must have figured out what the two of you had been doing already and it made you blush red. Jackson stood up suddenly when a crowd of people flooded into the lobby, “There he is.”

You stood too, immediately finding Mark among the people. To your surprise he looked completely unperturbed when he saw the two of you and headed straight your way.

Jackson took a deep breath and began, “Look man, I know you know-”

Mark sighed, passing a hand over his face in fatigue, “Save it dude. I really don’t care anymore as long as you’re not mad at me. I totally get it and can understand why you were mad.”

Jackson visibly relaxed, slinging an arm around Mark, “This is why you’re my favorite.” You pouted playfully, nudging your way in between them, to which they welcomed you, resting their arms around your shoulders. 

Mark looked down at you cheekily, winking, “Oh. I thought I’d just mention to you that I’m pretty sure everyone in the movie theater knows Jackson’s name now. You done good, _____.”

You blushed, but laughed goodnaturedly, “Someone’s gotta tell them.” You weren’t at all ashamed, in fact, you were a little proud to say the least. 

Jackson nuzzled into your neck, kissing you gently, “Maybe next time they can learn your name, babe. If ya know what I mean,” he grinned, biting his lip and giving you an exaggerated once over. 

You elbowed him in the side, smiling, “Only if you’re a good boy.”

meet me in new york - lorraine/delphine (atomic blonde)

lorraine meets delphine in new york (1100+ k)

-fluff and smut (delphine’s alive and reads lorraine her poetry)

also on ao3!

Lorraine’s spiked stilettos click clack on the spiraling metal stairs, the small sounds becoming a booming echo throughout the cavernous stairwell. Her hand, pale and slender, elegant but blanketed with fading bruises, pinches a long cigarette between two fingers as it trails lightly on the wrought iron roses of the handrail. She’s chosen this building, an anonymous twelve story New York walk-up, well past it’s prime, as her permanent residence.

It’s former glory is faded. The bricks are crumbling, the richly patterned wallpaper stained. Fallen and broken bits of glass from a dusty chandelier lay on the marble floor. Years ago this building would have been filled nightly with New York’s elite, networking and socializing and ladder-climbing, but not anymore. Now it’s perfect. No one will find her here.

Lorraine reaches the eleventh floor and turns left. She approaches the corner suite that she’s decided to claim and jiggles the sticky glass doorknob vigorously until the door shoots open. Once inside the door frame she allows herself to relax, sighing and slumping against the wall as she pulls her pumps off. She throws her vinyl jacket onto an antique, moth-eaten embroidered chair, reaches down to massage her aching feet, and then walks slowly into the room, hand on the back of her neck. She sucks in a deep lungful of smoke and slowly exhales it into the dim room. Despite all of the new propaganda about smoking being bad for you, she doubts she’ll ever give it up.

Mon cheri?” A husky voice unfurls from the darkness. A shadow materializes, walking slowly towards Lorraine. Light from a lone street lamp filters softly through the large, cracked bay window to reveal Delphine’s face.

Delphine smiles slowly, seductively, but secret relief shines in her eyes. “You made it.”

“Of course.” The corners of Lorraine’s lips twitch upward.

“I have been waiting for you.”

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The Piano by the Doorway

“What is the point, I’m not good enough.”

Yoongi w/ Jungkook and Hoseok

Ex-Musician AU 

5K+

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Passing the winding roads and quiet cafes, Yoongi’s footsteps made their way hastily past the small alleyways to the right; crossing roads without the guide of traffic lights, and over to a small corner shop. A sign hung on a pair of rusty chains, squeaking with each whiff of the wind whilst a pair of bolts loosely held onto a faded brick wall. The windowsill had collected fragments of debris as stickers, both old and new, had been stuck on by passer-byes. Glancing through the window revealed dusty shelves and a library of music where a young employee in his early twenties flicked purposefully through a box of vinyls, fingers soon falling upon the customer’s request.

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2

You pulled up to a dreary house with a big yard. You wouldn’t be here long, you thought. It was a new place everyone other month. A new town with new people. So you got a lot of chances to start over. One time, your father said you would only be at one house in Ohio for two weeks, so, you took the chance to see how far you could take acting completely insane. Randomly screaming out in the middle of a lecture, and running up to people whispering, “They’re coming.” You laugh looking back at Small-Town, Ohio, wondering what Los Angeles would for you. 

“Sweetheart?” your father said “Stop daydreaming, grab your bags and come look at the house.” You reluctantly got out of the car, picked your bag up off the sidewalk and started down the walkway. 

You stared at the faded red bricks and white trim looking for something to say. You finally stopped staring and walked through the tall wooden doors. “Your room is upstairs to the left.” You turned around and saw an older woman with vibrant orange hair. “Not to be rude, but, who are you?” You asked slightly frightened by the stranger. “My name is Moira, I’m the maid, I come with the house.” she answered with a light smile. “Ok, well thank you, Moira.” she nodded and walked away. 

It’s a very strange house. Strange neighborhood. You saw a vehicle come by with Famous Murders written on it. You might just learn to like it. Dad said this wouldn’t be a quick move like usual. You walked up the stairs and down the hall into your bedroom. You put your headphones in and let the worries of the world slip away.

A/N~ Should I do a part 2? ~Admin Nat

Model Behavior [1/6]

The leather photo album was heavy and still creaked like brand new, leading Rafael to suspect that it had never been opened.  

He was unpacking yet another box of Sonny’s things.  He said “another” because this was probably the fortieth this weekend.  A normal relationship might have had this in small stages throughout the months leading to cohabitation but not theirs.  Sonny had decided to play the Catholic card and refuse to live with him until they were married.  He didn’t want to “live in sin,” as though his God were perfectly fine with ambitious amounts of premarital sex so long as they didn’t have the same mailing address.

Rafael took the time to admire the slim gold band on his finger before turning his attention back to the album in his hands.

He cracked it open and his jaw dropped.

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My borders were well protected from
chance invasions or disintegration by
towering defenses encircling my heart
and obscuring my view of the outer world
such that I never saw you drawing near

When you found my guarded edges
you didn’t wait for the edifice to fall
You rushed in with the morning’s grace
stepped lightly over without a thought
and joyfully claimed what lay beyond

Pulling me back with you, careless and free
through endless fields of flowered song
we left far behind us those crumbling walls
their fading red bricks now utterly abandoned
to the choking brambles of orphaned memory


(credit to @aliveinsideink for the photo inspiration #poetryriotprompt)

it’s been almost two months since the gravity falls finale and i’m still so grateful to the fandom for staying active and creative as ever

i love you guys…dudes….bros….the author of the journal, my brother…

When Things Fell Apart: Part Eight (Final Part)

- Pre-warning you, it is super super long. But I have worked so hard on it to make sure it was as perfect as I had hoped and thank you for reading.(I have a little thank you message at the end too cause you guys are amazing individuals) - 

/ masterlist / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven 

Four Years.

The note remained in my fingertips even though I had memorised his words and meanings. It had been a long time since I bothered trying to talk to him, I told the empty line what needed to be said, I can remember it as if I uttered those words yesterday. 

A lot can happen in four years, people can change and grow or shrink into their own existence. 1095 days to be precise, this is how long it has taken me to figure out who I was and with the spare 365 days I gave myself well, let’s just say I kept myself busy- since half of it remains hazy when I try and think about it. 

Leaning back into the seat I re open the curtain, letting light into the aisle as I reminisce on the last time I was on a flight. I remember being drained, officially defeated by my status as a person and the guilt that had ridden my form, guilt from lying to Ashton, to Luke but also to myself. Closing my eyes I hear the cries that echoed down an empty line, the cries developing into muffled sobs as I tried to calm myself down only muttering apologies to him rather than coherent words. 

In the distance the clouds clear revealing the reality of the dream world, masses of land covered in green, light rays shine through the clouds illuminating the ocean and the tiny ant sized people below. Could he be one of them? This remained an apparent thought that circled my mind even though I was hours away.  Sending my parents a quick message, letting them know roughly how long it would be until I’d land and return to the life they hope I’d lead- something relatively normal. 

To me he was no longer dead, he was a ghost that haunted every decision I made. His voice spoke the fearful thoughts when I went to a bar or spoke to some guy or went on a date, he was haunting my every move and I couldn’t bare it, so I drowned it out. Unfortunately I can’t do that now, I can’t keep repeating the same actions as it’ll only end with more pain than it began with. When he first apologised there was a searing through my chest that spread rapidly through me. Pounding in my temples began and I felt sick to my stomach yet I was paralysed in a state of disbelief yet now, now everything is numb, and this my own undoing. 

Focusing on the piano that played into my ears I cast those memories away for a good reason as a new voice entered my ears and I couldn’t help but overhear. “Yeah I just want to tell him I’m sorry, like I didn’t mean it I was just caught up in the moment of it all.” She was trying to be quiet from in front of me but through the slither of the chairs I could just make out the brown hair that was perfectly curled for a 12 hour flight. 

Blinking I averted my eyes and ears from her conversation, I didn’t want to know the context nor did I care. Sighing I rested my head in my hand, focusing on the clouds clearing and a smile forming on my face. Everything was coated in white, gaps were made but everything else was in a complete blanket of snow; just in time for Christmas. Unaware of how much time had passed as a new day dawned I began to get myself together seeing the lights flicker for seat belts to be re fastened. 

Having made it off of the plane and through the boardwalk I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. This was it now, this would be when I press play on my life again. I can’t pause anymore or rewind, I’m stuck in this moment and there’s no turning back. Releasing a shaky breath I grip onto my luggage even tighter than before and head into the arrivals area, my eyes scan the scenes of loved ones being reunited. Seeing them hugging tightly or having flowers or kissing non stop, tearing my eyes away I try not to think how much I miss it or crave that now. 

The sound of my name being called with such joy caused my ears to perk, tilting my head up I see my parents waving and without a second to spare I run over to them. Embracing them both in a tight hug it’s as if I’m 12 again, coming home from an awful school trip that lasted four days and I had never missed them more, that was until now. Their hug meant security, complete protection and undoubtful sense of love. 

Pulling away I wipe my face and let out a shaky laugh, now unable to hide my smile to see them in person. Not on a screen, not over the phone when I had time to spare but at home. 

We began to walk out and I could sense my Dad watching me, he was doing the Dad thing of observing my current state, physically and mentally. They don’t know what happened in the past year, it is something I am suppressing from my own memories and refuse to relive it again, never again. Yet, I got better. I’m fresh, a flower that has blossomed for the first time and found a new way to live without the past. 

“A fresh start eh love?” My Dad nudged me as we neared the car and I nodded in response. Taking my rucksack and suitcase I forced them into the small boot of the car, feeling the snow dust on my shoulders and the ground around us now grey mush as opposed to fresh frost. 

As my Dad drove us home my Mum rambled on about everything I’ve missed, things she had told me three times before over the phone yet I was too preoccupied with the sights we passed. All of the trees that lined the small forests delicately draped in snowflakes, some had broken branches weighed down with thick layers of the stuff. I saw all of the houses that I cycled by as a child, most the same as ever before with faded paint or chipped bricks lining the walls. Others had makeovers with fresh colours and lavish decorations in their gardens, now barely visible due to the snow. 

Feeling the car come to a halt I lift my head up and see my parents both smiling to me with that light glimpsing in their eyes. Just past their heads I focused through the raindrops that blurred the window ahead, lights could vaguely be seen but as they moved aside I leant forward and smiled brightly. “Home.” A heartfelt word that I hadn’t thought about in so long, my home had been various hotels for too long. Maybe this is what I needed after all. 

Stepping out of the car I felt the crunch of snow beneath my feet and struggled to contain my excitement. Observing the outside of our house things hadn’t changed, everything seemed as if I never left excluding the fairy lights draped around the roof and gutter pipes for Christmas. 

Linking arms with my Mum she gave my arm a light squeeze as we walked back inside. The soft scent of Lavender floated through the air as I stood in amazement to see slight alterations made to the decor that made me feel slightly uncomfortable. White replaced the once burgundy walls, probably since I wasn’t here to risk ruining white, laminate flooring instead of carpets and the photographs and achievements rearranged along with new artwork. 

Taking slow steps forward I glanced around at the photos displayed seeing holidays, birthdays and christmases yet something seemed to be hidden behind an elephant sculpture. Reaching up to see it my Dad called me over preventing me from seeing what it was. Walking into the living room it remained the same as ever which was comforting, sitting down on the sofa I could see the Christmas tree up and presents settled beneath it. “So, three days until Christmas.” He started and soon smoothed his hands over the jeans that covered his thighs, a nervous tendency I picked up. “Any plans?” A brief look was exchanged with my Mum then their eyes focused back on me. 

Shifting in my seat I just shook my head, “I just want to get back into things,” Smiling to them both I could see my Mum releasing her breath. “just to settle back into this.” I told them then excused myself to go back to my room and sort my things out. 

It felt as if I truly was 12 again, my Mum told me what was for dinner and to have my washing in a basket ready for her. The climb up the stairs felt brief as I placed my luggage outside of my room, hovering my hand above the handle. Gripping onto the silver handle I pushed my door open, it was as if it had been untouched. Nothing had been changed, sure, it had been cleaned up but I still had the art on my wall, the array of books piling up and my notepad left open with some notes from my last visit here. 

Yet I felt uncomfortable, trapped. In here the memories lingered, I hoped for change in this room to make new memories rather than reach out and grasp onto the old ones. I didn’t want to sit on my bed, I didn’t want to think about how he kissed me or how we slept together here. The art work he picked for me knowing I admired it for months perfectly framed on the wall was a reminder. You’re better than this, you’re starting again. Running my fingers through my hair I began to remove certain things and place them outside of my door- books, albums, wall art, prints, clothes; anything that left an uncomfortable memory of him in my mind. 

Soon I sat in the centre of my room seeing it now bare in patches. I’m ready for new memories, I’m done living in the past. 


Christmas Eve, my phone remained closer to me now yet I avoided social media but the ones I had were strictly private. My Instagram was merely to update my parents on my travels and I had to apologise to a particular person, despite the guilt that I kept hidden a fresh start meant tying up loose ends. These included the ones I had with Ashton. 

Sitting up in my bed I take a peek outside of my blinds, the sun is only just rising and sleep still remains a difficulty since being back. The amount of snow left is decreasing and snowmen are now melting or have been destroyed resulting into nothing less than grey sludge that people slip over. Picking up my phone I take my earphones out and begin to text but pause halfway through the message. 

Sighing I take a sip of water and delete the entire message. Instead of typing I place my phone to my ear, hoping he would pick up. Doubt circled my mind as the rings went on, I wouldn’t blame him for not answering, I know I wouldn’t or if I did it would be with high hopes for an explanation. 

“If it isn’t the nightingale returning to the nest.” His accent was thick with sarcasm as opposed to the sweet tone he usually took with me, ignoring the stabbing in my stomach I sighed. 

“Yes, there is a lot of explaining to do-”

“Then you better get started.” He was short, I could hear shuffling in the background and voices becoming more faint as the seconds passed by. 

Removing my duvet from my body I swung my legs over my bed and stretched out before standing in the centre of my room. “Obviously, I lied to you.” A scoff could be heard in response but I wouldn’t give in to his responses, not now. “And a lot happened whilst I was gone to me. Some of it good, some of it not so good.” Shaking my head I blinked rapidly, wanting to get rid of the pictures and voices I could hear replaying like a song stuck on a loop. 

“You aren’t the only one.” A light laugh followed his response that made me feel at ease which was shortly lived. “Luke is a mess.” My heart felt heavy but I couldn’t allow it, not anymore.

Sighing I sat down on my floor and glimpsed to the gap on my wall, reminding me of my old apartment in its entirety. “That’s not why I phoned.” Stopping him from continuing he questioned my reasoning, “I can’t keep doing this. Trying to move on and then being dragged back into Lukes problems.” I began to get frustrated with myself more than him. “Luke is not in my life and I’m not in his Ashton.” Stating the obvious to him I stood up and held my arm around my waist as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My expression was cold and hard, “It’s time to move on. I’m sorry for what I did to you. Goodbye.” With that I hung up. 

No tears, no drama. I’m sick of being drawn back in and refused to allow it anymore. 

My day went on as expected, I wrapped up warm and began to sort my room out and all of my belongings from my old apartment. I kept the things I wanted, the rest was binned as he the items he left were worthless, meaningless to me. Home was just somewhere I needed to be for a little while, things seemed to be more clear in the company of the wise. 

The day had soon become dark and the sea of lights I was so used to seeing had dramatically changed to the occasional conversation that passed by our house. Children excitedly sang with their parents or spoke of magic from Santa, friends laughed about plans for the next few days and couples discussed anything and everything. The change was pleasant, it wasn’t all in a foreign language or in an unfamiliar setting, it felt secure which was what I was craving for sometime. 

Sitting in the living room with a hot cup of tea whilst I snuggled up in my thick jumper I happily watched Christmas films, something that was a tradition in our family to do on Christmas Eve. I felt content, I was at peace with myself. I’m moving on with my life, I tied up my loose ends with Ashton and he hasn’t been in touch since. Fans quieted down a year or so ago on my behalf, I never looked into why but was grateful for the absence of rumours exploding on my phone. 

A quiet knock on the door interrupted the film during the first twenty minutes. Placing my mug down I looked to my parents, “Expecting anyone?” I spoke up and headed out of the room. 

“Oh it might be Rosemary! You know she said she might pop round.” Chuckling to myself I neared the door and opened it with a wide smile to greet my Mums old friend. 

As the door opened and I held it wide open for her to enter my smile dropped, it vanished entirely. My whole body became tense and I was questioning my eyes, this wasn’t real, this must be dream. It must be

Deep purple bags were etched into his under eyes along with multiple creases surrounding the outer corners of those once vivid blue eyes full of laughter and life. Now they were void of all emotion, life, any source of hope. His entire face seemed broken, his posture weakened and he hung his shoulders forward in defeat. Even from here I could see the trembling of his body, his broad shoulders shaking silently. His lips quivered as he opened his mouth to speak but I couldn’t bare it, my body reacted faster than my brain could process and I slammed the door on him. 

Resting my head against the door the beating of my heart rode over any source of sound. The thumping intensified as I picked out every aspect of him again, but worst of all his eyes. He was broken, truly and completely broken. Ashton said a mess, by a mess I assumed he went off the rails with Arzaylea. The last thing on my mind was him barely able to stand up and hold himself, I didn’t expect to see him here of all places on Christmas Eve. 

Light footsteps could be heard making their way towards me and a hand was placed on my shoulder. “Give him five minutes honey,” My Mum softly spoke to me as I lifted my head from the door frame. The thumping of my heart beat died down, my sense of sound had returned just in time to hear her words of wisdom. “you give him five minutes to explain it all and then it’s up to you what to do next. If you don’t, then you’ll always wonder.” She shrugged her shoulders to me and gave me a small hug before walking away back to the living room, closing the door behind her. 

Glancing down to the door knob I was unaware of my how much my hand was trembling. Her words replayed in my mind as I gripped it instantly then froze as I tried to think what I’d do when I saw him again. 

Taking a deep breath I quickly opened the door expecting to see him stood, waiting for me again. Yet he was nowhere to be seen, in a state of panic various thoughts flooded my mind and my feet lead me down the poorly lit streets. I passed neighbours who wished me a merry Christmas or exchanged mere pleasantries as I stayed light on my feet and eyes peeled out for him. A weak mutter of my name caused me to stop half way up my road, turning around I moved my hair out of my eyes and saw the large tree that the kids played in during summer just before the entrance to the fields. 

Sat beneath them in the remaining sludge he shivered violently, his arms wrapped around his knees he struggled to lift his head to see me. In an instance I rushed over and kneeled in front of him, my right hand reaching out to his cheek and holding it, feeling how bitter it felt and lacked warmth entirely. My other hand was on his knee, unsure what else to do I helped him to his feet and began to walk in silence towards my house. 

It took us a while to walk the short distance, he stumbled over his feet and mostly relied on me to help him. His hand wrapped around mine I blocked out the faint butterflies and carried on. Five minutes may be ten now, but it’s something. As we approached my house I helped him inside and up the stairs, the film could be heard playing and I silently thanked my parents for keeping out of it all. 

Taking him upstairs I grabbed all the blankets I could find as I lead him towards the spare room yet he sidetracked me and walked in the direction of my room. Quickly I tugged his arm, guiding him back the other way silently until he was sat on the spare bed engulfed in layers upon layers of blankets. 

Sitting in front of him I passed him a glass of water, it shaked with force in his hand as he moved it towards his face gulping it down. He leant back into the bed and sighed. I couldn’t help but think continuously what had happened to him, how he ended up here of all places. “Why, why are you here Luke?” Speaking up I broke the silence between the two of us and I fiddled with the loose cotton on the edges of my jumper. 

A long pause followed until he sat upright in front of me. It seemed weird, we were like strangers. This person who sat before me was not one I recognised nor knew in the past. He is a mere shell of who he was when he made me laugh, when he told me he loved me much like myself. I’ve changed and grown yet there’s something, something I can’t put my finger on. 

“I needed to, I needed to see you.” He mumbled as he his fists tightened, I could see the red marks that lined his knuckles and the dried blood that coated them. 

He kept his head down whilst I got up to get some water for his hands to clean them up. As I got to the bathroom I looked at my reflection as I filled a bowl up with warm water. I picked out all the things that had changed about me for the better, I noticed how I seemed happier, things didn’t seem so heavy on me. Yet there was that one thing in my eyes that was growing, that curiosity to who Luke is now. Something I struggle to let go of no matter how much I try to deny it. 

Walking back to the room I open the door to see the pile of blankets left on the bed, vacant of Luke. Placing the bowl down I walk out and head towards my room, the door ajar and he stands taller, broader in the centre just looking around. “You changed.” He spoke up as I lent against the doorway, crossing my arms. 

“It was for the better.” I was clear and confident. Luke turned back around to face me and I could see the hurt in his expression, all he did was nod before walking closer to me. 

The cockiness he greeted me with years ago was gone, the shy boy I first met was gone and in his place was this unknown pain, this feeling I was unfamiliar with. His eyes travelled past my face and to my neck, he lifted his hand up and I pushed it away with force. “You, you still wear the locket?” He sounded surprised and I placed my hand over the necklace, unaware I was wearing it. 

Feeling the locket in my finger tips I showed a small smile, “I always wear it.” My smile began to fade as I straightened back up. “It was one of the only things that wasn’t ruined for me by you.” Walking away I headed back to the spare room and patiently waited for him. 

I could hear my heart beating faster and the blush crossing my cheeks, just like it always did when I was with him. Sitting down I could hear his heavy footsteps nearing and he defeatedly collapsed back down, he placed his hands in front of me with ease. As I cleaned them the clear liquid became diluted with crimson, “So, four years.” He let out a dry laugh in between winces as I carefully dabbed at the cuts that lined his knuckles. 

“Four years.” Repeating his words I pictured the time I had, the good and the bad. Unaware of my pause Luke placed his hand on top of mine, bringing me back into this moment. 

He looked at me with some concern, similar to how he did in the lead up to leaving for a tour. “Ashton told me everything.” He muttered breaking the quiet and I lowered my head, ashamed of what I did despite it all. “What happened to you?” The concern etched into his words as he lowered his voice, his head becoming closer to mine and his hands now on my thighs. 

Moving away from him I let his hands fall down, “Nothing Luke.” Shutting him off I saw his shoulders dip again. “What happened to you?” Raising an eyebrow he pushed himself against the wall and looked me in the eyes. 

“Arzaylea broke up with me, not long after you left.” I scoffed at the thought, unsure how to take the news as it seemed almost ironic. “Then she proceeded to sell the story of our relationship.” He quickly said and my eyes went wide and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

“She, she actually sold your relationship? Wow, that is just a new level of pathetic.” Luke merely nodded in response. For a guy who has had around three years to get over it he doesn’t seem phased. 

He rested his head against the wall and dried his knuckles off, “You know I realised a lot when she was gone.” Sighing I moved my hair out of my face, not sure if I would want to know. 

“Do I need to know this or can I just-” I motioned away but he leant forward again, desperation lingering in his eyes. 

He pleaded, “Please, just hear me out.” Repositioning myself in the chair I gave him my full attention, ready to hear whatever it was he had to say. “When Ashton told me you had gone I was angry, I was angry at you initially but more so at myself for doing this to you.” Nodding along I knew what he meant. “I acted out and she didn’t like it so she called it off. Then I saw the story and went off the rails, I made temporary friends every night, I drank away everything until I remembered mere moments of it stored in my camera roll.” He sighed and buried his head in his hands. “My parents made me get help again, I got out a week ago and I just had to see you.” I could hear the hope in his tone and I shifted on the spot. 

“Sounds tough.” My only response, the one I could word without sounding too harsh or too petty. 

He nodded and let out a dry laugh, one that was slightly unnerving. “I was lost. The person I was is gone and I want him back. It hurts me to know I’m like this and I feel trapped.” 

“I nearly killed myself last year.” I whispered. Something I had never admitted aloud. He remained still, too still. “Things were going well, I learned to love life on my own but one day I woke up and hated everything. I hated that the people I woke up with didn’t care about me. That my memories would fade and all I’d be left with were photos or notes we had. I hated that I was so alone in cities full of life.” My eyes remained shut as I explained, it was something I feared speaking about for too long. 

Yet, I felt if I were to tell anyone it would be Luke. 

“Something was always missing. There was a vacant space lodged inside of me and it only grew the longer I stayed like that. It felt like too much and I wanted it to stop.” I paused for breath and felt a single tear trickle down my cheek. “So I tried to make it stop.” Another tear fell but was wiped away by a heavy hand that rested against my cheek. 

Opening my eyes he sat close in front of me, focused on me entirely with pure empathy. “You tried to make it stop indefinitely?” He whispered and all I could do was nod. 

“When it failed I figured things out. I decided to come home. A fresh start.” I stated and nodded to myself. “Yet I still keep the box your Mum gave me, I’m still wearing the locket from my first Christmas with your family. I still read the lyrics of the song you wrote about me and I can’t-”

He shushed me and moved his hand away from my cheek, “That wasn’t the only song.” A simple sentence that caught my attention, my mouth partially opened as I waited for more to be said. “I wrote so many, there are so many that I wrote, I recorded and kept back for something else.” His fingertips circled my palm as he continued to explain whilst my heart remained lodged in my throat. 

“When I was so close to ending it all there was only one person I wanted to talk to.” Part of me felt so pathetic for admitting it, but it had to be said. I had to be honest, I was always honest with Luke. “All I wanted to do was talk to you, see if I could make some sense of it all with you in mind.” Shaking my head I wiped away the tears that fell, unable to do anything else. 

He held my hands tightly in his, “I will always want to know these things.” I focused on the raw emotion in those blue eyes, “No matter the time, the place, the cost of the phone call I will always want to make sure you are okay.” He kept his eyes on mine, not tearing away for a single second as the words flowed. “You are the one person that matters to me the most. You always have been and this time we’ve had apart has made me realise and put things in perspective.” 

“We’re rare, Luke.” I stated. “Ashton knows, your family knows it, my family try and deny it for my own sake but we can’t.” Shaking my head I let out a small laugh. “Ashton told me years ago about how I can’t see the look you have in your eyes when I’m turned away.” Luke smiled to himself, his gaze torn away from mine. 

“You’re just genuine. You have been you from day one. Remember my letter?” He asked and I nodded, like I could forget. “Every word, every word came from the bottom of my heart. I was still amazed to wake up to you in the mornings we had together. To sit with you at family meals or have someone to open up to on anything.” The light that was vacant slowly reappeared as he streamed the truth, something I’ve been unknowingly waiting for. 

He moved closer and placed his hand on my cheek, stroking it and I placed my hand on top of his, missing his touch. “Things fell apart when I let you go.” I whispered as I flickered from his eyes to his lips.

“I can’t lose you again, not for anything.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as I closed my eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, please know that.” 

I could feel his breath on mine and the beating of my heart blocking out everything except my own words, “We can fix each other, piece by piece.” 

His lips met mine and everything else melted away. All of our memories played back from the first time he approached me to the day I got this locket that I always wore. As I pulled away I rested my forehead against his, letting out a heavy breath. “Merry Christmas Luke.” 

Even after all this time I can no longer deny myself of feelings. I endured more heartache than I ever imagined possible for one heart to deal with. My life felt meaningless and the weight on my shoulders grew with each day that passed as the regret became harder to carry.

 I’m tired of losing those I love. No more tears, no more drama, my search is over at long last and slowly we can mend the pieces that fell apart.

- and that is the end to When Things Fell Apart. It is currently 1:30 in the morning but I had to finish this. My first ever piece I wrote on tumblr now being one of my most successful series’ I cannot thank you enough. Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, love to you all. - 

The Beast of Greed//Chapter 1

Characters: Licht, Hyde/Lawless
Ship: LawLicht
Summary: Hyde was cursed to be a beast and the only hope he had to become human again was to learn how to play the piano. Licht didn’t know if he could trust Hyde but agreed to teach him how to play.

A/N: I wanted to put my own spin on the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale since it is one of my favourites. I was thinking that KuroMahi would be a better fit but I decided to go with LawLicht because I’m super bias to my OTP.


Every day, Licht would go into the village and pass an abandoned castle. As he walk by, he could hear someone playing a piano on the other side of the wall. Licht stood on his toes and tried to look over the stone fence but the wall was too tall. The piano ballad always caught his attention and curiosity. 

The man played as if he had feet for hands. It was unfathomable how poorly the person played.

“Hey, you still don’t know how to play yet?” Licht screamed over the fence. Ever since he was young, he would hear the same song every time he passed the castle. He was a pianist and hearing the song be butchered was offensive to him. “Learn how to play beginner scales before you try to play anything. You can’t become a pianist if you don’t put in the effort to learn even that.”

Even though the person on the other side of the gate sounded hopeless, Licht would always give him advice before he left. He didn’t know why he bothered because the man continued to play the same song and forgo his advice. As Licht turned away from the gate, something was hurled over the gate and it landed at his feet. 

“Did you just throw a rock at me? Are you trying to kill me? If you want to fight, come out here and face me!” Licht screamed and kicked the wall but it held strong. He wasn’t a weak person and his kick should’ve been powerful enough to destroy the wall but it didn’t. Licht picked up the rock, intending to throw it back, and saw that there was a note attached to the rock.

Can you tell what song I’m trying to play? The note read.

“Beethoven’s Für Elise.” Licht answered. It was the first time the person on the other side of the wall ever spoke to him. Though he was curious to why the person chose to write a note to him rather than speak to him normally.

Another rock flew over the gate and Licht caught it. If you can tell what I’m trying to play, then I have gotten better.

“Playing something that vaguely resembles Für Elise and playing the song well are two different things.” Licht clicked his tongue. Another rock flew over the fence but he didn’t bother to catch it. “I’m not going to play your game of catch. If you want to talk, then talk directly to me.”

Silence answered him and Licht sighed for a moment. It didn’t seem like the person was going to answer him so he decided to leave. As he walked, Licht wondered who the person was. The castle was supposed to be abandoned and cursed. It was said that a prince and all his servants were consumed by the Beast of Greed. The rumours surrounding the castle kept the courageous and foolish away.

“How about you teach me?” Licht stopped when a voice came from the other side of the fence. It was gruff and there was also something ominous in his voice. There was something inhuman about the voice that should’ve told Licht to run. But something stopped him.

The voice sounded incredibly lonely. “I’ll give you anything you want as payment. Just one lesson and I’m sure I’ll be able to play this song well enough. There’s a secret door you can use to come in if you want to. Find a brick with a rose carved into it. Once you press it, the door should open.”

The ground trembled slightly and the moss covering the wall faded until the brick appeared. Licht stared at the brick and hesitantly traced his finger over the rose. Should he press it? The voice sounded like a monster. What if the Beast of Greed still resided inside the castle? Every logical thought told Licht to turn away from the rose.

But Licht found himself pressing the flower.

The ground shook again but the tremors were more powerful and it almost knocked Licht off his feet. With an eerie groan, the wall gave way and revealed a small opening. Licht peered inside cautiously and was struck speechless at what greeted him on the other side.

A garden overflowing with life and beauty laid on the other side. Because of the dreary and lifeless exterior of the castle, he never expected the inside to be so different. There were numerous types of flowers in the garden and Licht knew he never seen anything so colourful or vibrant. It was obvious that the garden had been well cared for.

Licht walked into the garden and the flowers seemed to naturally drift to him. A soft breeze washed through the garden and gently pushed him into the center of the garden. As he walked, Licht looked around the garden but he didn’t see any sign of the Beast of Greed or the man he spoke to. He thought that he would find the person once he reached the center.

But the only thing he found was a white piano. Compared to everything else in the garden, the piano was old and worn. Its paint was peeling off and it looked as if it would crumble with the slightest pressure. Music sheets for Für Elise rested against the piano and Licht picked them up. The pages were yellow and frayed so Licht wondered how old they were.

Licht replaced them and sat in front of the piano. He played a simple scale and was glad to hear that the piano was well tuned. Once he was certain that the piano wouldn’t break beneath his hand, he began to play Für Elise in earnest. The garden seemed to react to his song as the flowers began to sway and petals danced around him.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw that one flower didn’t react to his song. A glass jar rested on a table next to the piano with a single rose inside. The rose was withered and looked to be dying but something drew Licht to it. But he turned away from it and focused on the piano keys.

“You asked me to teach you how to play and you’re not even going to come out?” Licht called into the garden once the song ended. “I can’t teach you unless you’re sitting next to me. I doubt just listening to me play will help you improve.”

“I like listening to you play.” A voice answered him and Licht turned to the direction of the voice. He could see the shadow of someone hiding behind the flowers but he couldn’t see the person clearly. “No wonder you insulted my playing. Anyone would sound like a novice compared to your talent.”

“I hate that word. Anyone can learn to be as good as me if you just put in the effort and imagination. If you really want to learn how to play, come out here and learn.”

“Can’t you just play for me one more time before I come out?” The man requested hesitantly and Licht sighed but he turned back the keys. His fingers danced across the piano and the familiar song filled the garden. Licht could hear a pair off footsteps approach him from behind but he didn’t turn to face the man because his concentration was on the song.

When he played the last note, Licht could sense the person standing directly behind him. Licht still didn’t turn to face him and pat the seat next to him. “My name’s Licht. Sit next to me and tell me how much you know how to play.”

“Can you close your eyes and place you hands on the keys?” Licht rolled his eyes but closed them and rested his hands on the middle E. He felt rough hands over his and they guided him to the right keys. Together, they played the song and the man went on. “I memorized the notes but it’s hard for me to play it with my hands… They’re too big to play anymore.”

“Who are you? What’s your name?” Licht asked and the hands over his still for a moment.

“Its been so long that I forgot my own name.” The man laughed self depreciatingly at himself.

“Well, if I’m going to be teaching you, I need to call you something.” Licht thought over several names he could give the man until one appeared in his mind. “How do you feel about Hyde? It’s a simple name and it’ll be easy for me to remember. Jekyll is my middle name and there’s a novella with the characters Jekyll and Hyde.”

“Hyde, the hideous, destructive inner beast… I guess that’s the perfect name for me now.” The man behind him laughed but it sounded sad to Licht. He opened his eyes and his heart stopped when he saw the hands over his. They were the hands of a beast.

Frantically, Licht stood and pushed the beast away from him. Hyde was shocked by is sudden actions but understood them when he saw the horror and disgust in Licht’s eyes. He glared at him and Hyde quickly pulled his cloak around him tighter to hide his face and body from Licht. But he knew that it was too late since he already saw his hands.

“You’re the Beast of Greed! You tricked me!” Licht screamed the accusation and his mind raced with possibilities. Why would the beast lure him into the castle other than to kill or eat him? He turned on his heel and ran to the opening. He didn’t know if he could outrun the beast but he refused to be killed by it.

“Please, wait Licht! I don’t want to hurt you! I just want you to teach me how to play.” Hyde begged as he ran after him. He was faster than Licht and stood in front of the opening, blocking his escape. “Just listen to me for a minute!”

“Get out of my way, you beast!” Licht screamed and kicked Hyde. He wasn’t expecting Licht to be so strong so didn’t defend himself properly. Hyde landed painfully against the wall and he struggled to stand before Licht kicked the air out of him again.

“Stay with me, please! Just until I learn how to play the piano again.” Hyde dodged Licht’s next kick and hugged Licht to stop him from attacking. His hood fell off and Licht could see his red eyes when he looked down at him. “I can’t break this curse and free my siblings without you.”

“Curse?” Hyde could feel the fight leave Licht and stepped back. He was relieved when he didn’t run from him and explained the curse to him.

“I was forced to take the form of a beast and my siblings were turned into animals by a wizard. He said that the only way to release the curse is if I can play the song Für Elise with all my heart for someone I love. I only have until the last petal of the rose falls before I’m forever cursed to stay like this. Will you please help me?” Hyde’s red eyes begged Licht more than his words did and he hesitated.

Without a word, Licht pushed away Hyde and ran through the opening in the wall. Only once he was on the other side did he look back but it didn’t seem like Hyde was chasing him. The wall closed with finality but Licht couldn’t shake how Hyde’s eyes looked. They were so earnest but they were also that of a beast. Could he really trust the man? What if his words were just a trick?

“Licht, are you still out there?” He heard Hyde’s voice on the other side of the wall. “Can you at least think about it? All I want is to be me again and I’ll give you anything for teaching me. You can even have this stupid castle! Please, Licht…”

“… Okay, I’ll think about it. Just give me a week to think it over.” Licht answered.

“Thank you! You’re a real angel, aren’t you?” Hyde found himself smiling for the first time in centuries. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Licht saw him but he said that he would think about helping him. His answer was more than he could hope for or deserved but Hyde didn’t want to let the opportunity to become human slip away.


I don’t know if I’m going to update this AU look at that list of unfinished work growing so much XD but I really like this idea so far

like thunder

pairing: oliver wood x pansy parkinson

setting: modern, non-magical, college au

word count: 536

written for: the world + @slytherdornet halloween challenge


It happens like this:

The day before Halloween, Daphne comes down with mono, thanks to Can’t-Keep-It-In-His-Fucking-Kilt Cormac McLaggen, and Astoria has a tantrum roughly the size of Lower Manhattan because she’s ten, and she has a Wonder Woman costume hanging in her closet, and Daphne was supposed to take her fucking trick or treating.

“Pansy,” Daphne bleats, looking sick and sad and pathetic. “She’s, like, really into comic books right now. You have to.”

Pansy’s an only child. She doesn’t have to do anything. “There’s a Delt-Ep party,” she whines. “I waxed for this, Daphne.”

“Then you’re good for at least the next two weeks,” Daphne says, fluttering her lashes before she coughs, weakly. “Please?”

Pansy’s a really good friend.

She zips herself into her Slutty Bavarian Serving Wench dress, stockings and lipstick and garter in place, and then pastes on a fond, mostly genuine smile as she ushers Astoria down the front steps of the Greengrass brownstone. It’s not Astoria’s fault her sister’s a fucking train wreck.

“Come on,” Pansy sighs, looping her arm through Astoria’s elbow, “the really good candy’s going to be uptown.”

Thirty minutes later, Astoria’s weighed down by about a pound of miniature Kit-Kats, and they’re knocking on the door of a townhouse that’s a little more…lived in than its neighbors. The brick is faded, and the paint is peeling, and the burgundy shutters are actually functionally closed, not just decorative remnants of a charming pre-war aesthetic.

And then the door swings open, and Pansy’s breath gets caught somewhere in the vague vicinity of her chest.

Because the guy standing in front of them—he’s probably a few years older than her, tall and lean and effortlessly attractive. His hair is a messy dirty blonde, and his eyes are a clear, crystalline green, and he kind of looks like the pretty boy cover of a country music album. But he’s wearing a Cowboys jersey and holding a can of Bud Light and his expression is decidedly perplexed as he glances between Pansy and Astoria.

“Trick or treat!” Astoria shrieks, thrusting out her orange felt Jack-o’-lantern basket.

He blinks. “It’s—wait, what?”

“It’s Halloween,” Pansy says, slowly, like she’s talking to a fucking imbecile.

“No,” the guy argues with an adorably furrowed brow, “it’s football season.”

Astoria stomps her foot. “Do you have any Snickers?”

He stares at them, palpably helpless. “I have—a PowerBar?”

“Festive,” Pansy coos, curling her lip.

“Is it chocolate?” Astoria presses, pouting dangerously.

“It’s—um—maybe?” the guy stammers, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Don’t sound too confident,” Pansy simpers. “It’s almost like you’re unprepared.”

The guy squints at Pansy, and it’s like he’s noticing her for the first time—gaze roving from her mouth to her legs to her cleavage, expression illustrating a subtle sort of surprise as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, shoves his hands into his pockets and opens his mouth, tongue resting on the cushion of his bottom lip.

“I forgot,” he mutters, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Look, why don’t you come inside—”

Trick or treat!” Astoria shouts again, sounding significantly less patient.

Pansy lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah,” she drawls. “Trick or treat.”


The one that got away/ Victor Zsasz one shot.

Name: The one that got away

Author: Aya-Fay

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Victor x Reader

Theme: M-mention of wounds. Also there is general angst and fluff.

Requested by amazing @mistressofcobblepot. (Can I have a request? With Victor and reader where the reader is Victor`s next target but he found himself attracted to her. Smut or fluff doesn`t matter. And I leave it up to you how it ends, if he act upon his attraction or gets the job done.)

Honey, I really tried to follow your request. Hope you will like the outcome <3


I also wanna thank my dearest @queencobblefreezestuff@myregardstothereader@jokesterwrites@under-oswalds-umbrella@minpov@gotham-city-tales@luciebell-writes@just-a-little-crazy@rawrcoptergaming@taintedmarker@thequeenofgothamxo@emberandshadow


Originally posted by thewinchesterdaily

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Rowaelin/Samlaena Fic

A/N: Okay so I saw this prompt here, and this whole story just came to me. I don’t know why, I don’t know how. It’s been a while since I wrote a Rowaelin fic (or a fic at all for that matter), and this one has a bit of Samlaena as well. Please let me know if you like it!

Aelin quickly spun around, feeling as if someone was behind her. Someone orsomething. Rowan laid a hand gently on her bare shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asked her.

She turned back to face him and nodded. He moved his hand under her chin, tilting it up towards him. “Aelin, what is it? Did you see something?”

“It was just the bell. It startled me is all.” But the look on her face clearly said she wasn’t okay. It was weird, how the simple ringing of a bell could awaken memories she had long forgotten. She pulled away from Rowan, turning to face the beautiful floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the countryside. You could see for miles, and sometimes, Aelin wondered if the forest and the hills ever ended.

Rowan, sensing that Aelin needed a few moments alone to gather herself, went into the bathroom and closed the door. She could hear the water running in the tub, but made no move to join him.

It had been so long ago, years now, since she and Sam had slept in a clocktower for a night in Rifthold. Wanting to have some peace and quiet away from the Assassin’s Guild and Arobynn, they had meant to rent a room at an inn. But when all of the rooms were booked because of a meeting that was taking place at the castle the following day, Sam had grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street.

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3

You kept your eyes on the ground, inspecting the faded bricks surrounding the door of the Bunker. Once, their sight had been a familiarity that brought happiness to you—the sense of joy, of home. But now…now you could only feel your heart pounding loudly as you fought off tears. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be here. You’d sworn before packing that you would never come back, but only a week had passed and here you were, standing outside. It was rather pathetic in your opinion.

You sighed, raising your hand to knock again when the door suddenly swung open. The barrel of a gun greeted you immediately, and you jumped back in shock, wrapping an arm around your middle instinctively. You found yourself doing that more and more often. 

“Y/N…” Sam breathed, frowning for a second before raising his eyebrows in surprise. He lowered his gun a second later, noticing your stare on it. “What—what are you doing here?” 

You forced yourself to look at him, taking in the purple bags underneath his eyes and the pale tone of his skin. His hair was messy and lacked of its usual glow, and his five o’clock shadow was starting to look less attractive than you remembered. 

“I, uh, I-I…” Your throat felt dry, too dry, and every word you wanted to form kept slipping from your tongue. 

And then you saw it, the concern in Sam’s eyes that brought you crumbling down. You couldn’t help the sting in your nose or the tears that started falling onto your cheeks without any sign of a stop. Sam seemed to hesitate before stepping out and reaching for you. It was probably a bad idea to accept the comfort that he wrapped you in; however, you couldn’t push away.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Sam asked softly, his voice holding onto a weight he didn’t deserve. 

Still, this had been his decision. He was the one to break things off. He was the one that pushed you away. And, although you were sure he was hurting, too, you couldn’t see how that was fair. 

But you weren’t alone now. 

“I-I need you, Sam,” you gasped between ragged breaths, clutching his shirt as you cried. One of his hands rubbed your back soothingly, the other running through your hair for the first time in what felt like an eternity. A hellish eternity. 

“I need you, too, Y/N,” Sam whispered back, closing his eyes tightly in a vain attempt to hold back his tears. “You know I do, b-but we said—we agreed this was for your safety.” 

“I never agreed to it,” you sobbed, shaking your head as he held you tighter. “A-and—and I can’t go, Sam, I-I can’t. I’m…I’m…”

You shook your head again, scared to say anything else. Would he still turn you away? Would he still think that you needed to get away from him, even more so now? Would he even care at all?

Sam pulled away from you gently, cupping your right cheek with one hand, and gripping your left shoulder softly. His eyes were glossy and rimmed with red, wet tracks covering his cheeks. Worry and pain clouded his hazel irises. 

“I’m pregnant,” you hiccuped quietly, sniffing every couple of seconds as you tried not to launch yourself against him again. “A-almost three months now.” 

Shocked masked Sam’s features almost immediately, his eyes widening and his bottom lip quivering before his mouth fell open. In a heartbeat, he had you in his arms again, rocking you slowly as you started crying again. 

“It’s okay, it’s all going to be okay, baby. We’re gonna be okay…”

x