he looks like he's dressed for a funeral

brendon urie is the type of guy to carve something very poorly out of soap like a bear and give it to sarah as an anniversary gift and she doesnt know what to do with it because its a bear carved out of soap but she cant just put it in the closet because brendons always watching the bear because he made it he is the creator of the bear and then one day sarahs washing dishes and she thinks its time for murder and drops the bear into the sink and brendon cries for 3 days straight and holds a tiny funeral for a lump of soap that used to vaguely look like a deformed bear and makes all of his friends come and the only person who isnt extremely confused is pete wentz because pete wentz dressed up as a teletubby once nothing stuns that guy

The jackets are pretty outlandish, but even then Dirk always seems so put together. Maybe it’s the ties. Definitely it’s the button down shirts. The most casual Todd’s ever seen him is when he rolls up his sleeves. He even manages to dress up Todd’s t-shirt, his yellow jacket making him look like he’s just stepped off the cover of a magazine. But that’s just Dirk. He’s polished in a way Todd’s not.

Imagine, then, Dirk shucking his jacket and collapsing onto Todd’s couch in just his Mexican Funeral t-shirt. Imagine Todd noticing his arms for the first time. Fixating on the slight curve of Dirk’s bicep where it disappears under his sleeve.

Imagine Todd becoming very flustered. Imagine Todd knowing exactly why he’s flustered.

This is the moment Todd knows he’s screwed.

Clair(e)voyance

2.2

Jamie walked toward the building raising his shoulders in question.  “Strange place to be called for a homicide, no?” he said in the way of greeting.

D.C. Angus Mohr shrugged back.  “They said once they saw the body, they knew they had to report it.”

Jamie stopped beside the small, wiry officer.  Angus Mohr was not very well liked on the force.  He was brash.  Rude.  Drank too much.  But he had a way of getting information from people that helped get cases solved.  Both men looked up at the illuminated sign.

Crook Family Funeral Home.

Angus nudged Jamie, and headed for the front door.


“So,” Jamie said, “it was a routine call.  Routine pick up.  Until you got back here.”

“Well, no.” said the tall, thin woman.  “We were called by the family straight away.  Well, we thought it was straight away.  Went to the house.  We waited for a bit.  Let them say goodbye.  We always do that, you know, so much nicer than just barging in and taking the body.”  Her eyes pleaded with Jamie to understand.  “When they said to take him, we covered him, loaded him in the van, and brought him here.”

“And that’s when ye saw the…”  He wasn’t sure what you could call what he saw on the boy’s body.

“Yes,” Mrs. Crook said.  “It didn’t seem normal.  My husband and I have run a funeral home for a very long time, Detective Sergeant.  We’ve seen a lot.  But not this.”

Jamie looked down at the boy.  “So, what was different?  I mean, ye said it wasn’t routine.”

“Well,” the woman began, “he was sort of laid out.  Like he’d been dead a while, but they’d dressed him, you see.  And laid him on his bed.”

The hair on the back of Jamie’s neck prickled.  He looked over at D.C. Angus Mohr.  The little man raised his eyebrows and stroked his beard absentmindedly.  

“Are ye sayin’ he didn’t die at home?”

“It didn’t seem that way.  We never asked, to be honest.  It wasn’t until we brought him here and got started on preparations that we suspected something was amiss.”  

Jamie nodded and looked around.  “His clothes?”

“In the bag, here,” Mrs. Crook said.

Jamie nodded again.  “Ok.  The two of ye,” he turned toward Angus, and his partner, Rupert MacKenzie, “Tag it, and take the bag to the lab.  I want to know if there’s anything on the clothes.  Anything.  Maybe we’ll find trace evidence to help us figure out where he was.  Or maybe whoever did this left a hair behind, or something.  We need somewhere to start.”

Rupert looked at Jamie.  “Yes, Sir.”

He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Crook again.  “I ken it’s late, but would ye mind giving these gentlemen yer formal statement?  I need to make a call.”

Jamie excused himself and stepped outside to use his phone.


“Jamie?”  Her voice was breathy.  Sexy.  Dreamy.  He’d woken her up.

“Sorcha.”  He looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone.  “I need ye to come to a scene for me.”  

“Oh.”  She sounded a bit less befuddled.  “What’s happened?”

He could hear the rustle of her bed sheets.  Could tell she was moving now.

“It’s tricky.  I need ye to come and take a look wi’ me.”  

They hung up, and Jamie texted her the address.  He looked over at the lights spilling from the building.

Funeral Home.  Such an oxymoron.  Homes were safe.  Welcoming.  Loving.

Everything the boy lying in there seemed to lack. 


She had climbed out of the Uber all business.  Black bag in hand.  A brief nod to him.  A stern warning to Mohr and MacKenzie not to taint the evidence. Then she brushed past him and entered the building.  

Jamie rested a broad shoulder against the door jamb and watched Claire work. She asked three questions.  What time did the family call?  What time did the body get to the Funeral Home?  Had they touched him at all outside of normal procedure?

Satisfied, she dug out her phone and called for an ambulance.  

Claire looked at Jamie.  “I’ll need to do a postmortem.  I’m having him transported to the morgue.  But -” she looked over at the Crooks, “I need you to sign a release form for me,” she looked back at Jamie, “and I need you to get permission from the family so I can look at him.”

When the ambulance arrived she gave explicit instructions for the body to be put in refrigeration until permission could be granted.  It was late.  There was no way she would intrude on the boy’s parents tonight. 

Standing in the parking lot, Jamie used his best professional voice.  “Can I give ye a lift home, Doctor Randall?”

Claire glanced around.  The Crooks were locking up and gave her a little wave. The attendants were busy shutting doors so they could leave.  No one cared.

“Yes. Thank you, Detective Sergeant, that would be helpful.”  She adopted her most professional tone, just in case.

They rode back to her place in silence.  Each lost in their thoughts.  The tension, palpable.

When he pulled up next to her townhouse he put the car in park, and waited.  

Claire didn’t move.  She clutched her medical bag so tightly he could see her knuckles turning white. 

He left her place only two hours ago.  

What happened now would be her call.

The street light bounced off the bonnet of the car.  

Stark.  Harsh.  Like a naked light bulb in a film noir, forcing a witness to crack, to say what they didn’t want to say, to reveal what they’d rather keep hidden. 

“Would you like to come in?” she whispered.  

He knew what this was costing her.  She was asking for another chance.  She was hoping.  Hoping he hadn’t given up on her.  

Jamie pushed his arms against the steering wheel, locking his elbows.  He looked out of the side window.   

Taking a deep breath he turned his head slowly and met Claire’s eyes.  

“Claire.”  He watched her be brave and meet his gaze.  She straightened a little in her seat.  “Claire, if I come in…now…I’m no’ goin’ home before dawn.  I’m no’ sleepin’ on the floor, or the settee.”  

He watched the pulse quicken at the base of her throat.

“If I come in, mo neighean donn, I’m in yer bed and between yer legs.”

He watched as she blinked hard.  Swallowed.  Nodded.  Watched as she gathered her composure. 

She groped for the door handle, and pulled it open.  

“Fine,” she said, her tone haughty.  “I won’t bother making tea, then.”

Tricks and Confessions

Merlin x Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff
Word Count: 1891
A/N: Yeah, I’ve definitely written better some time, but still, I love Merlin, I love Colin Morgan, and here’s your story love! Finally!
Request: Can you do a Merlinx Reader where the reader works in the castle and is really shy, and she likes Merlin so she tries to avoid him, but it’s hard because he is always just trying to talk to her because he likes her? Thanks Love ya

Originally posted by merlinsprat

“(Y/n)!”
You grabbed the bucket of laundry tighter and quickened your step.
“(Y/n), wait!”

Quickly you turned around the next corner, trying to escape the boy the well-known voice belonged to, but he must have run, for he had reached you shortly after, a wide grin on his face. 
Smiling back weakly you looked up at him. “Hey, Merlin.” 

Oh god, you just wanted to get away. 

After all you needed to do the laundry, then clean up the guest chambers, and then… you needed to continue avoiding Merlin. 

You weren’t sure how obvious your crush on him was, but you knew the longer time you’d spent with him, the more nervous you’d get, the more hopes you’d make yourself, and you just couldn’t afford that right now.
He maybe was a servant, just like you, but he was Prince Arthur’s personal manservant. You were the kind of girl that was basically responsible for everything, that no-one else wanted to do.

Literally. 
You had probably seen more dirty latrines than anyone ever needed to see in a lifetime.

Keep reading

Yoongi Scenario: In Heaven.

Request: Can you do me a Yoongi angst/fluf/sad where he kind of neglects you when he’s busy and you two started to drift apart and when you finally had enough, you get into an accident (where you die) and he regrets it (neglecting you) and a few weeks later, he wakes up and he time travelled to the past to change the future? It’s kind of based off of JYJ-In Heaven. xD

Genre: Angst / Romance.


You hadn’t seen the car coming, but then that day you weren’t really there, exhausted and drained you had gone out to see if by walking you could make your brain react. Yoongi had stood you up last night and he hadn’t called, your relationship was coming to a dead point that you didn’t know if you would be able to overcome, no matter how much you loved him. Because you did, you loved that man with such force and you suffered for him in equal measure. The impact was fatal even if it didn’t kill you on spot, everything stopped moving and then your eyes closed shut.

Every time Yoongi went to sleep he remembered that day, you had been surrounded by flowers with a pretty dress on, you had your eyes closed like you were sleeping, Yoongi had kept looking at you, begging you to wake up, but you wouldn’t. The day of your funeral had been a nightmare coming to life, and as Yoongi saw the casket being closed after the final goodbyes he thought he couldn’t even see you one last time, see you, awake, alive, with eyes that stared back at him, he thought that he had pushed you to that direction, and alone you had gone far away from him to a place he couldn’t reach you.

I’m leaving, I’ll come back soon so… No, I, you don’t know how much I love you, don’t you?… I love you.

You had left a message for him that day, Yoongi remembered it well, how would he ever forget? He had listened to the message the night of the accident after the doctors had declared you death, it had been ironic, if he had just picked up his phone, if he just had seen you. But he had had eyes only for his work and that important project of which he was taking part of. The project would impulse him to bigger success, that was his logic for always making you wait, for always putting you second, he thought after the project was done then he would take you out and sort things, he loved you and he wanted to be with you, but his career was going so fast, he thought everything else could wait, that you could wait.

But there was no one waiting for him anymore, there was no one sleeping by his side, waking up next to him, you weren’t there anymore and Yoongi couldn’t accept it. No matter how much time had passed already he couldn’t bring himself to put you behind, even if he had managed to go on with his life, without you everything seemed so empty. It drove him insane.

Yoongi tried to keep going, he thought about quitting his job since he couldn’t stop thinking that if it wasn’t for him being so engrossed on it then everything would have been different. But then it was the routine of work and how mechanical life was turning out to be that he had been able to at least get out of the house. People would stare at him, his neighbors, his friends, everyone knew what had happened, everyone pitied him, everyone murmured about how sad it had been. But Yoongi couldn’t care less about people, the only thing that really mattered was that day, and how he couldn’t do anything.

He lived his life in automatic, the routine guiding him through work and back home where he would crash exhausted thinking of you, of that day and listening to that voice mail over and over again. And then, the next day he’d repeat everything. He still had pictures of your scattered around, most of them you had arranged yourself in his place, you hadn’t moved together formally but you had spent more time in his house than in yours. 

Yoongi had put down the frame of the two of you that before was on his desk at plain sight, he felt like he couldn’t work if he had it there, the comforting feeling that brought him the one he had near his bed was totally different from the guilt he felt with this one. Sometimes it made him think that this had really been his fault, that he could have done much more and that in a way you had died because of him, sometimes it made him think that he should just put an end to his misery.

Keep reading

Famous Last Words 2

-SNOWBAZ-

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Summary: When your family was a wreck and your perfect girlfriend just left you for your irritating classmate, the only way to carry on was to make a truce with the enemy, right?

OR

High school AU in which Simon and Baz pretend to be boyfriends to save Simon’s love life.

Chapter word count: 3.2k

Rating: T

Tags: High School AU, fake boyfriends, mutual pining, fluff, a little bit of angst

Also on AO3

Thanks to @eroticgropefest for being my amazing beta :)



Not often had Simon seen Penny speechless. His best friend was used to all kinds of situations, so she wasn’t easily surprised. But Simon was.

But now they were both clearly gobsmacked.

Simon heard Penny almost choking on her tea, before someone–probably Rhys–nudged him and brought his attention back to Baz.

Right. Baz.

“I– Uhm.” Simon stared in shock at the dark skinned boy standing in front of him. He looked at his dark boots, at his dark clothes, at his dark nails. At his dark hair. At his dark grey eyes. Everything about him was dark. “Yes,” he said finally. “I’ll go out with you.”

Keep reading

Draco; Moon Therapy

/Warning(s): Sadness everywhere!


“Talking to the Moon” ~ Bruno Mars


Disclaimer: There’s no lyrics to follow/Most of the lyrics are in italics.\


••••••••••


Draco sat by the window sill looking out at the moon, that was surrounded by glimmering stars. The War had ended and you were nowhere to be found. Draco was driven to insanity, people looked at him oddly when he started talking to himself. His family worried about him when he mentioned you and ‘talked to you’. He’s wondering where you are, at times he talks to the moon, thinking of you.


“Today I walked outside with my mother. She’s been talking about you, she’s saying I should let you go, but I can’t.” Draco stared at the bright, luminous stars; but to Draco’s eyes the moon stood out the most. “And I never will, Y/N, because I love you. I wanted to start a family with you. That one night that we made love to each other was majestic, I want to relive that, that was ten months ago. That was the last time I kissed your plump, pink lips and held you in my arms.” Draco felt tears prick the ends of his eyes. “I still don’t know why you left me.” Draco sighed, looking down at his lap.


“I know you’re somewhere out there.” Draco said. “And if you left me. Why did you not leave with an explanation.” Draco cried softly. Tears rolled down his cheeks, each tear held an emotion. Sadness, worry, and the best, love. “I love you. Goodnight.” Draco got up and went to his bedroom. The Manor made Draco’s emotions worsen, it was such a depressing and gloom color. Even though he enjoyed the colors during his childhood, he learned to enjoy the rather bright colors, the colors you loved.


The talking and the moon are his therapy. He thought it would help him. Yet, You were nothing compared to the outshining moon, you were all he had and he needed you.


I know you’re somewhere out there
Somewhere far away
I want you back, I want you back
My neighbors think I’m crazy
But they don’t understand
You’re all I have, you’re all I have


Draco stayed up all night reminiscing you and him, and kept thinking of the future you two could’ve had.


|Retrospect|


“Draco!” You laughed. “Say it! Say that I’m the most handsomest man in the world.” Draco smiled, tickling you were you were most ticklish. “OK, OK, Draco Malfoy is the most- stupidest person the world!” You breathed. “You little-” Draco went back to attacking you. “Draco Malfoy is the most handsomest man in the world.” You pant. Draco lets you go, you stand up and hop out of the couch. “Behind Harry Potter.” You joke running out of the Slytherin Common Room. Draco runs after you, you burst into fits of giggles, running as fast as you can.


Unfortunately, he caught you. “Gosh, what I do for you woman.” Draco pants. “I love you.” You blurt. “I love you too.” Draco leans forward, you flutter your eyes closed pushing yourself toward Draco. You waited for his lips to come in contact with yours. You opened your eyes to find Draco stifling a laugh. “Hey you big meanie! I was about to kiss you!” You pout. “I can only kiss you if you say, I’m the most handsomest man in the world.” Draco folds his arms. “Alright, my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, is the most handsomest, sexiest man in the world.” You wink at the end. “There we go, love.” Draco said, connecting his lips with yours. “I love you, so much.” You hug him. “I love you more.” Draco said, and you didn’t fight back to say you loved him more, because you couldn’t compete with his love.


|Retrospect End|


|Draco’s Thoughts|


I looked at you, you looked exhausted and tired, yet you wore a smile on your face. “What do you want to name him?” You asked. “What about Noah Hyperion Malfoy?” I asked you. “That’s perfect.” You weakly grin. “Here he comes.” The nurse said, holding a baby boy in a green blanket the one that I had been delivered in. “I want you to hold him.” You told me. The nurse heard and held him out for me to hold. I grabbed him and cradled him in my arms, I was scared, he was as pale as me, I could see his hair, the tufts of H/C were soft. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, they were my eyes, the color, the shape. I simply adored him.


“Hello Noah.” I cooed. I looked at you and smiled, “He’s so beautiful.” I said. I heard Noah whimper, I handed him to you. Unsure of what to do. “He’s getting hungry.” You said. You breastfeed Noah. “Is that painful?” I ask out of curiosity. “Not really, all you feel is a slight tug.” You replied. I looked at her with an all knowing look, the woman I love is the the mother of my child. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.


“Our family.” You whisper. “Our family.” I smile, intertwining your hand in mine.


|Draco’s Thoughts End|


At night when the stars light up my room
I sit by myself…


“Draco, are you alright?” His mother interrupted his thoughts. “Yes, mother.” Draco sighed. “Just checking in on you. How’s Y/N?” Narcissa asked. Draco’s eyes widen in surprise to what his mother asked. “I don’t know.” Draco said. “I hope she’s all right.” Narcissa softly grinned. “Me too.” Draco frowned. “Don’t get sad, Draco.” Narcissa said. “I won’t.” Draco replied. “Goodnight.” Narcissa said. “Goodnight.” Draco says.


It was a long night, Draco talked to the moon that he so ever loved, it reminded kept reminding him of you. Draco couldn’t get rid of the fact that you were out there without him. You were the best thing that occurred to him, and he can never forget that. He remembered that one time Rita Skeeter, asked him odd questions.


|Retrospect|


“So rumors have been spreading around of you, is that correct Draco Malfoy?“ Rita Skeeter asked. Draco was out in public with his mother by his side. “We have to go.” Narcissa said, tugging on Draco. “About what?” Draco asked. “Oh, you’ve haven’t heard, people are saying that you are going crazy, talking to yourself.” Rita said. “We have to go.” Narcissa pulled Draco away. Draco walked silently by his mother. ‘Was this really happening?’ Draco thought. He never knew this was the new chat in the Wizarding World, but then thought about it clearly. ‘Was I really talking to himself?’ Draco thinks for an answer. Yet doesn’t have one.


|Retrospect End|


I’m feeling like I’m famous, the talk of the town
They say I’ve gone mad
Yeah, I’ve gone mad
But they don’t know what I know
Cause when the sun goes down someone’s talking back
Yeah, they’re talking back, oh


Narcissa tried finding ways to help her son, yet in the end it turns out to be a failure. She can’t help, but give up. “There has to be something to help him.” Narcissa told Lucius. Who was in the cell at Azkaban. “Get him a wife. That girl is never going to come back to him.” Lucius said. Narcissa looked up, her eyes lit up, “I’ll see.” Was all she said, getting up. “Goodbye Lucius.” Narcissa grinned. “Goodbye love.” Lucius smiled back. “I love you.” Lucius managed to reply. His emotions for Narcissa stood strong despite the dementors’ attacks.


So Narcissa did trying to find the perfect girl, that’s until Narcissa found Astoria Greengrass. Narcissa visited Lucius again and told him about her choice. They both agreed on arranging the two, until Draco found out and became angered at his mother. “You knew mum! You know.” Draco breathed. Draco tried relaxing to a calming state, “I’ll never love her.” Draco stated. “Draco.. please.” Narcissa tried to get him with her, it was no use. “Leave.” Draco said. “But Dr-” “I said leave!” Draco growled, Narcissa flinched and went away. Draco broke down crying. “I’ll always love you, Y/N.” Draco chocked. The sky looked darker than usual and the stars have seemed to vanish.


Talking to the moon
Trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side talking to me too
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?


~*~


Draco’s eyes fluttered open, he scowled at the sun that blinded him. He laid by the Window still in the same position like last night. An owl then hooted, Draco looked at the owl that held a letter. Draco snatched the letter off the owl, he began to open the letter.


‘Hello Draco,


It’s Hermione Granger, I know you despise me, but don’t rip this letter, please, it was hard for me to right this letter. I can’t… write it again. Something has happened to Y/N, something that I can’t forgive myself for, she’s been killed, a death eater took her life. I’ve invited you to her funeral, she would’ve loved for you to come, Draco. It would be an honor to see you at her funeral. I’m sincerely sorry; she was my best friend and still is. I would’ve done anything to save her, but it was too late. I hate myself for the fact I could have saved her. Please come to her funeral.


Sincerely,
Hermione Granger’


Draco screamed, then sobbed, it was truly the end. After all this time. Narcissa rushed to his room, she hunched down beside him and looked at the clutches letter in his hands wrinkling. “Shh.” Narcissa cooed.


~*~


Draco dressed in all black, he hated the color now. Since it meant something stronger, it meant death. He kept a frown on his face, dried tears stained his cheeks as he made his way to the Cemetery; he saw Harry, Ginny, Luna, Ron and the others there, crying and grieving. Draco felt like he could no longer cry. That’s until he saw your pale, fragile body. You looked stunning, even when your were gone. Tears spilled his eyes like waterfalls. Harry went up to Draco, they smiled weakly at each other.


“I’m s-sorry.” Harry cried. Draco seemed to get over the fact that he couldn’t blame. He couldn’t blame Love. He couldn’t blame Harry, Hermione or the others. All he could do is stand and feel a certain emptiness take over. “Draco.” Hermione’s soft voice rung through his ears, he gazed upward and met Hermione carrying a baby.


Do you ever hear me calling?
(Ah) oh oh oh
(Ah) oh oh oh
‘Cause every night


I’m talking to the moon
Still trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side talking to me too
Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?


“You had a child? Congratulations.” Draco said in a slightly cheerful voice trying to sound happy. “It’s not mine, it’s yours.” Hermione said, she motioned for Draco to hold the baby, who appeared to be a month old. “M-Mine?” Draco asked. He held the baby and upon further inspection, he saw her. He saw you. Your dazzling H/C hair pairing with his blue-grey eyes. “She sacrificed herself for him.” Hermione told Draco. “I could’ve saved her too.” Hermione fell onto her knees putting her face in her hands.


Ron ran to her and held her up, trying to steady Hermione. “His name is Noah. Noah Draco L/N~Malfoy.” Hermione said, wiping her tears away. “He was born June fifth. Y/N went away from Hogwarts to protect him, to protect you.” Hermione said. “I’m his godmother.” Hermione smiled, yet it faltered. “He looks like her doesn’t he.” Hermione pointed out. “He does.” Draco said.


Draco held onto Noah, knowing that a piece of you was still with him. It amazed him that after all this time he was talking to the moon, you were talking back.


I know you’re somewhere out there
Somewhere far away

The last time I did something here, I responded to someone and wrote a short story about aliens in Lousiana, and I decided to continue that story, cause Lousiana is one of the mini Australia’s of the U.S. The post was about how aliens would get scared away by animals on earth rather than humans themselves. Mine was alligators. 

Link to previous post

……

Nymi stomped her way down to the shack, kicking up dust as she went. All five of her arms were crossed in that human expression that meant discomfort. Roth had trouble with that one. It could mean more than one emotion apparently. But by the way her tail swished, and the claws on her feet dug into the earth, it wasn’t hard to see that this was one angry Vrok. 

“They’ve been in that damn shack for hours now! We nearly got killed by a bunch of logs with teeth, and their searching for keepsakes!” She grumbled. Roth sighed, unaware of his some what human tendencies, and said “They’ll come out soon. Perhaps there is something of worth to both of our species in that shack.“ 

She turned on him, teeth clenched, slightly visible. "Then why won’t they let us in? Why can’t we help them look for it, huh?” She asked. That was a valid question, but Roth supposed that things like this were important to humans. Maybe they weren’t supposed to see a humans personal hive without permission.

“It’s special to them.” He said. “We must respect their culture.” She scoffed, and stamped the ground near his feet, causing him to move back suddenly. Where his foot had been, a claw mark was left in the dirt. Nymi was very agitated. 

“Who cares!? They’re humans, the ones who are supposed to be our prisoners! Aren’t we taking their planet for resources? Why are we letting them boss us around?” She demanded, kicking up more and more dirt, causing clouds of it to fill the air. Some of the particles got stuck in Roth’s face, and he had to pick it out before it settled there. Thorks. He’s gonna have to decontaminate for a week after this trip.

“They saved our lives, Nymi. We owe them as soldiers of the Empire.” He said. “You do care about that at least, right?” Nymi became even more agitated, and for a moment he was afraid she was gonna claw him until he was a puddle of green goo, but she instead let out a ferocious cry of anger. 

“Fine! We’ll stick with the two humans! We’ll find our way to the HQ, and then we’ll report to General Toro that our entire infantry is DEAD! All because of a bunch of stinking-”

“Can you keep it down? Do you want looters coming after us, or what?” It was one of the humans. A smaller one, male, known as Sky. He was light skinned, and very quiet for the most part. Roth didn’t even know he was there until he spoke. In his hands he held a bundle of cloth, with something hidden inside of it. 

“I know your mad and all, but save it for when we’re away from the Bayou. Those Gators can come up, you know.” He said. He dropped the bundle at their feet. Nymi clutched two hands to her face while the other three were ram rod straight at her side, her tail stuck straight up in the air.

“Those… things can walk on land?” She asked in a small voice. Sky nodded. 

“‘Course they can. How else do you think we wrestle  'em for their teeth?” He asked. Nymi gulped, something Roth only thought humans did. Roth knelt and looked at the bundle of human artifacts that Sky had collected. They were strange. Roth picked one up and examined the glittery decorations and the feathers sticking out of it. There were two inexplicable holes in the artifact, and it had a vaguely human curve to it. 

“What is this?” He asked, eyeing it curiously. Sky picked one up, a bigger one that definitely resembled a human face. 

“They’re Mardi Gras masks. We’re gonna wear ‘em to sneak past the looters hide out.” He explained. 

“Looters?” Nymi asked. Sky nodded, and put the mask on. It was a beautiful white mask, with painted black lips, and monochromatic lace ribbons tied around it. 

“There are Looters up in the Market where your HQ is. They mug anyone who isn’t them, and they wear these masks to protect their identities.” He explained. He handed a mask to Nymi, one that fit her face and snout much better than the others. 

“Masks won’t be enough though.” Said Tyler from the shacks doorway. Tyler was the other human they found in the shack. He was taller than Sky, and much more talkative. It was him who had explained to Roth what Gators were when the rest of the crew wouldn’t listen to him. Tyler had a second bundle in his arms, this one filled with costumes and human clothing. 

“We’re gonna need new clothes to fit in with 'em.” He explained. Nymi growled.

“I’m not wearing human garb.” She said, stubbornly. Tyler tossed her something, and she caught it. A bulky, winter jacket with a broken zipper.

“You’re gonna have to if you wanna get home.” He said. She grumbled some Vroki obscenities under her breath, but put the coat on anyway. It fit poorly on her, and made her seem like a giant, spiky puff ball off anger. Roth dreaded whatever it was he would have to wear. He hoped it didn’t make him look half as ridiculous as Nymi looked. 

Tyler and Sky wore baggy costumes with stripes and polka dots on them. “Clown costumes.” Sky explained. It seemed Roth would be dressed similarly. He eyed the clown outfit in disapproval, then put it on over his uniform. Tyler laughed at the two aliens. 

“You two look ridiculous.” He said, smiling. Nymi bristled at his laughter. 

“Your dressed humorously, too!” She pointed out. Sky handed Roth a mask, and told him how to put it on. 

“Yeah, but at least we look happy about it. You two look like your going to someone’s funeral, or something.” Sky said. He fixed his mask a little, which had fallen out of place. “Clowns are supposed to be happy. Act like it, at least." 

They set off just as the sun was setting. They made sure to follow the path the Bayou was going, but stayed far enough away from it that the alligators weren’t a threat to them. The air was hot and humid, something that Roth and Nymi had yet to get used to. Sky and Tyler were trudging along just fine in their masks and clown masks, though Sky had to readjust his every few steps. It seemed too big for someone so small to wear.

Roth chuckled. Sky looked back. "What?” He asked. 

“Your mask is too big. Maybe we should trade?” Roth said. To his surprise, Sky became angry with him. 

“No, you can keep your mask Hylian!” He huffed. Tyler snickered behind his mask, a grin visibly showing. This only made Sky more upset. 

“Sky here is a little self conscious about his height.” Tyler said. Sky crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders, a human expression for embarrassment Roth noted. 

“I am not.” Sky said. “I jus’ don’t like it when people point it out. It’s embarrasin’.” He said. 

“But I think it’s cute.” Tyler said, looking down at Sky. 

Sky turned away. “That’s what all tall people think! You giants look down on us, but you better watch yourself! Short people can be deadly.” He said, poking Tyler in the arm. 

Nymi spoke up, a rye smile on her face. “If short people are so deadly, how come you aren’t allowed on some of those human amusement rides?” She asked, snidely. “From what I hear, the teacups are a wonderful ride for children and anyone under 4'0.” Sky ignored her.

“Short people have other ways of entertaining themselves.” He said. “Like making tall humans and aliens act like fools in clown outfits.”

Nymi looked taken a back. “But you told us to wear these!” She said. “I’m over here baking like a Vroki Truffle cake because of you!" 

Sky laughed. ”'Course it’s hot. That’s Louisiana for you!“ 

Tyler stopped walking suddenly. They had made it to the French Market. It was a desolate hub of deserted tables and stands, all over flowing with masks and costumes, and knick knacks. It was dark, and there was a shelter over it, probably to protect the humans who used to work here from the sun. It felt empty. 

"This is the Market?” Roth asked. He had seen pictures of it in its former glory, and thought it would be much bigger. 

“If your looking for canal street and whatnot, it ain’t here. Those were taken up by your kind for space years ago.” Tyler said. “Only thing left of the French Market is this place.” Nymi walked closer to get a better look. 

“Humans used to work here? Why?” She asked. “All I see are even more ridiculous costumes and masks.” Sky nodded. 

“That’s what we sell down here. We used to sell Mardi Gras stuff for the tourists.” He said. He tightened the ribbon cords on his mask.“There are dangers in the Market.” Sky warned. Roth made sure his costume was covering his suit completely. And Nymi made sure her mask obscured her snout.

They entered the Market.

……

So I’m tired of writing but anyway, anyone feel free to continue this story if you want.

Submitted by: @cartooncaretaker

The Hardest Goodbye - Stiles Stilisnki

Originally posted by no-chill-stilinski

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of Allison’s death (this IS a warning LEAVE ME ALONE) 
word count: 2671

You parked your car in the lot by the school, and slowed every movement you made.  Turning off the engine, putting your phone in your purse, unbuckling your seat belt, you somehow managed to stall five more minutes.  You breathed in deeply, and opened the door.  Walking out to the lot where your friends were.  Scott, Lydia, Malia, Kira, Liam…

Stiles.

You wore  sad smile as you wandered over to the group.  A slow drag in your feet, converse scraping against the pavement.  Lydia caught sight of you, and beckoned you to come with her arm.  You picked up the pace slightly, holding your purse tightly to your body as you came closer.

“Hey, y/n” Scott said quietly.  You nodded your head weakly.

“Hi guys” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.  You looked around, taking in Scott’s UC Davis hoodie, Lydia’s MIT lanyard that hung her keys around her neck, as well as a key chain with a picture in it that you’d seen a thousand times before.  

The one with you, her, and Allison.  Where you were in your swimsuits, on the beach in the early hours of the day.  How you were able to stay overnight at the beach without getting into trouble, you weren’t sure.  But it had been an amazing night.

Your eyes watered slightly as you looked at it, but you turned away quickly, making sure to avoid looking at Stiles as well.  Your eyes landed on Malia’s new beige leather jacket.  She cocked her head to the side and gave you a look that showed you she knew you were shying away from him.

“Come on, I’ll drive” Scott said, taking Stiles’ keys to the jeep.


I think that Tony is better” You said, popping a few M&M’s in your mouth.  Stiles gasped loudly from where he sat next to you, the popcorn he was trying to put into his mouth falling right out of his hand.

“How.  Dare.  You!” You began to giggle as he glared your way.  As though you’d just stabbed in him the throat.  “I feel… I feel so betrayed, y/n how could you?” You giggled again and scooted closer.

“I’m just messing with you Stiles” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck, and continuing to watch the movie.

So you’re still team Cap?” You chuckled, nuzzling your head into his neck.

“I’ll always be team Cap with you my spastic friend” You said.


When Scott parked the jeep, you slid out after Lydia and Malia and Liam.

“My flowers are in the back, will you get them for me?” Lydia asked, and you nodded, walking around the back of the Jeep.  You opened up the trunk, eyes caching the eerie metal sign above the gates.  Beacon Hills Cemetery.  You shuddered slightly, and went back to grabbing the bouquet of flowers.

“Cold?” You jumped, grasping the plastic wrapped stems as you spun to face Stiles.

“N-no I’m fine” You muttered, closing the trunk, and holding the flowers more delicately.

“You’re fine?” You nodded, looking down as not to meet his eyes.  “So why aren’t you looking at me?”

“Because I’m here for Allison” You muttered again, and pushed past him to get back to Lydia.  She let you cling on to her.

She knew you wouldn’t be able to handle today.


“Stiles!” You called as he was walking down the hallway. This was it, you needed to do something.  He turned around, smiling at you and waiting for you to catch up.

“Hey little girl” He said with a wink, and you rolled your eyes.  “What’s up?”

“Look, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Yeah of course, what have you got on your mind?”


You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath, and trying to suppress the memory of rejection from over a year ago.  No, yours and Stiles’ friendship wasn’t ruined.  He’d politely told you that he had a girlfriend and that he was happy with her, he did it so kindly that you fell for him more, but you backed off.  You even focused more on your studies than things like dating, and boys.

“You want to put them down?” You opened your eyes, to see Lydia holding the flowers towards you.  You looked down, seeing Allison’s name written beautifully on the stone you’d memorized.

“We’ll do it together… yeah?” You asked, wrapping your hands around the stems, just like her.  Together you both put them down in the soft grass in front of her grave.  “She’d uh… she’d love those” You said quietly.  Lydia smiled at you and wrapped an arm up around your shoulders.

“She’d be going with you” Scott said, and you looked over at him.  “To Berkeley.  That’s where she’d uh… where she’d wanted to go” You gave Scott a sad smile and nodded solemnly, looking back down to her name again.


No y/n you don’t get it, I want to be with you, I like you” You shook your head, staring unbelievably at him.

“Stiles do you even-” You stopped, looking around at the people dressed in black.  “I can’t believe this” You muttered, shutting your mouth and setting your jaw.

“No y/n I like you, I want you, Malia and I… it’s just not the same as when I’m with you” He said.  You crossed your arms, staring at him angrily.

“We are at a funeral.  Stiles.  Allison’s funeral.  This is.. this is literally the most inappropriate time you could’ve chosen..” You rolled your eyes shaking your head.  This just made no sense.  Of all the fucking places he could’ve done this…

“I know, I know poor timing but I can’t hide it anymore y/n you gotta understand-”

“I don’t”

“You did once” He replied.

“Well you’re too fucking late Stiles” You said, tears welling in your eyes as you began to walk back towards the service.  “You’re too late” You mumbled, bee lining towards Lydia, who was doing her best to keep herself together.

Stiles stood by himself, looking down at the grave that belonged to a girl too young to be in it.  Then back to his friends.  He stood and cried over Allison by himself.


When you got back to the school, you knew this was it.  This was the part where you all said goodbye, then went home to relax for a night before you took your flights and car rides in the morning.  The pack spreading across the country.  Tomorrow was a new beginning, the start of the college experience.

“Well, shouldn’t we be hugging and stuff?” Malia asked.  Scott chuckled, pulling the girl, who’d somehow wound up becoming his love interest, in for a solid hug.

“I’ll miss you, you crazy animal” Malia chuckled, hugging him back.  You stood and smiled watching the two, glad that they’d wound up with who they were meant to.  Though Malia was taking a hiatus for a year, she’d likely go with him to UC Davis and find something that’d interest her while with him.

Lydia walked over to you, smiling at you with watery eyes.  You returned the gesture and hugged her quickly.

“Don’t make me cry you’ll ruin my makeup” She scolded before you could even say anything.

“But you’re going so far, what am I gonna do without you?” You whimpered.  Lydia cooed and rubbed your back.

“There’s FaceTime, and airplanes, and Christmas break” Lydia went on.  “We’ll figure something out, and I promise not to lose touch okay?” You nodded.

“I promise too”

“Okay pull away and don’t make eye contact on three” You nodded in agreement.  “One, two, three” You yanked away from one another and she turned to say goodbye to Scott instantly.  You took in a deep breath, and when you opened your eyes again, Stiles was there in front of you.  Suddenly you were very aware that you were pretty much trapped between him and your car.

“Hi”

Your mind flashed back to all the times you and him have talked since his confrontation at Allison’s funeral, almost a year ago.  They were minimal, and random and just not important.

“You’re not gonna leave without saying goodbye, right?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No… no I don’t think I could do that even if I wanted to” You said.  Stiles nodded slightly, rubbing the back of his head.

“Look y/n I’ve got a lot to say and not a lot of time to say it” You licked your lips, rocking on your feet anxiously.

“Yeah… yeah me too I suppo-”

“But well to sum it up, I still love you, and I’m gonna miss you like hell.  Even if we haven’t really…. haven’t really spoken in a while” You blinked, not really expecting that.

“I guess we… we missed too many moments huh?” You said softly.

“Yeah” Stiles sighed.  You gave each other sad smiles.

“Maybe we weren’t ever.. ever meant for more” You said quietly, unable to look up at him in fear of bursting into tears.

“Ha, bullshit” Your brows furrowed, and when you looked up to question this remark he leaned down, hand sliding easily across your cheek, cupping the back of your head, and before you could even smile are what you knew he was doing, he was kissing you.  A quick, far too rushed, but passionate kiss.  “Still not meant for each other?”

“Keep kissing me you fool” You replied, and Stiles smirked for a moment before leaning back down and connecting his lips with yours in a much more pleasingly slowed and tender.  Your arms wound up around your neck, not even caring that all of your friends were watching, and likely taking pictures.  

When you couldn’t hold your breath any longer, you pulled back, standing flat on your feet from your tippy toes, and smiling up at him.

“No goodbyes?” You shook your head.

“No, no I don’t think I can emotionally handle that” You said, slowly letting yout arms fall from behind his neck, and wrapping them around yourself.  “I’m… I’m sorry.  I fucked up big time I should’ve just talked to you” Stiles shrugged, giving you a kind smile.

“It’s okay, I think we’re definitely both in the wrong here” Tears welled in your eyes.  “No, no sh don’t cry” He stepped slightly closer, not that he could move any closer to you than he already was.  “We’ll talk, we’ll be close, we’ll figure this out” He murmured.  You figured Scott Liam and Malia were listening in from across the lot.

“Work what out?” You said brokenly.  “A long distance relationship?” He looked defeated.  “You and I both know those never work.  They just… it just won’t happen” You entire features, once displaying an expression of peace and happiness, now fallen, making you look depressed.  Like you’d been dragged through the bottom-most pits of hell.  Which your heart was, at least.

“I know, I know it’s just..” His fingers combed through your hair, knuckles brushing your cheek softly as his eyes searched deep in yours.  “I just got you and I don’t want to let you go” 

Your tears began to fall, and you began sniffling.

“I love you” You said through a small whimper and wet eyes.  Stiles’ lips parted, a small smile taking over them.

“I love you too” He said in a murmur, and stroked your cheeks gently with his fingers.  His brows drew together, just a little, as he stared at you intently.  “So much, y/n” 


By the time you’d driven yourself home, you were a mess of tears, puffy eyes, and a pink nose from sniffling and sobbing so hard.

Your mom even let you have a couple beers before you went to bed.  At least it got you the energy to finish packing up your things for your dorm.

Your pillow ended up soaked with tears and mascara.


The next morning was just as bad.  Loading up your car, getting ready for the drive to your new dorm, your new college.  This was it.  Your life was beginning, an independent woman, no longer just a teenage girl in high school.

Not to mention you no longer had to chase down the supernatural beats in your free time, your education would come much easier to you with nights full of studying rather stakeouts and werewolf fights.

Or movie nights with Stiles, parties at Lydia’s, bowling with Scott, hiking with Malia, and with Liam and Mason… well whatever weird shit you’d do with them you’d probably miss that too.

You plugged your phone into the car, playing your playlist that your friends had made for your four hour drive to Berkeley.  Most of the songs on it were from Stiles though.

Tears welled in your eyes again, and you pulled over, and double checked your gps a few times.

Then you yanked the suction cupped screen right off the windshield window, and began furiously typing.


Stiles sighed as he walked back into his dorm after a long day of trying to get used to the city of Washington DC.  It just wasn’t exciting adventuring around alone.  He didn’t bear a smile as he ordered a new and fun coffee he was sure you would’ve loved.  He didn’t skip along the sidewalk the way you would have after grabbing his hand.  There was no thrill and happiness in his eyes at the idea of starting his new life.

He wasn’t starting it the way he wanted to.

You weren’t there.

He shrugged off his jacket, setting it on the kitchen table.  At least he wasn’t stuck with a roommate.  He could have peace, quiet and privacy.

Not that he really used it to his own advantage.  Mostly, he spent it sulking, even crying occasionally.  It had been three days since he’d left Beacon Hills.  Four since he’d seen you.

You.

The young woman that he was sure was the love of his life.  And in a matter of one kiss and minutes, he let you slip through the cracks of his hands.

Was there anything he could’ve done? Not logically, but he still felt it was his fault.  He just prayed that you weren’t in the same pain that he was.

How could he start classes next semester and focus in class? How could he pursue this dream of becoming a cop, when you weren’t there to urge him on?

Sure, he’s texted you, and you seem fine, settled.  but it wasn’t the same.  He wanted to hear your voice in the mornings, see you dancing in the kitchen to music that sometimes didn’t exist.  

He wanted to look over from the driver’s seat to see you playing with your hand out the window, occasionally sticking your head out to feel the wind in your hair. 

He wanted to come home to the dorm, drop his keys and coat on the table, set down his bag and walk over to where you sat on the couch, a book in your lap, hair tied back messily, glasses perched on your nose.  He wanted to walk over and place a sweet hello kiss on your lips before asking where you wanted takeout from.

He wanted to continue your movie nights, and carry you to bed when you fall asleep.  He wanted to cuddle and cradle you so you wouldn’t wake up from nightmares.

He wanted to spend his life with you.  But you weren’t even here.

Stiles flopped down on the couch, groaning and closing his eyes.  Maybe if he napped he’d be out of his misery.


When he woke up it was to a pounding on the door.  He mumbled a string of curses, an d got up from the couch, dragging hi feet to the door.  The pain of separation creeping right back into his mind.  He opened the door with a frown.

“What?” he al but growled out before looking to see who his visitor was.  Instantly his jaw slacked.

“Hi” You said quietly.


yes, there’s gonna be a part 2 bbies no worries

xoxo ~ jordie

the foxes as shit i've said
  • neil: my funeral is canceled
  • andrew: maim her
  • kevin: set me on fire please
  • matt: HELL YEAH I'M COOL WITH HUGS
  • dan: i'm not just the mom friend. i'm the wine mom friend.
  • allison: i get a venti because i'm not weak
  • renee: did u kno there's a pentagram emoji
  • nicky: i dress this way because how else will people know i'm gay?
  • aaron: he looks like he could do with a good bitchslap
  • wymack: nothing like a bomb threat before my morning coffee
  • abby: hello yes i am here to help
Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

So this angsty, evil monster fiction was inspired by a very heart-wrenching convo with  @stevemossington and @forfutureglory. We needed puppies afterwards, and you might, too. 


It’s been two weeks since she died. Two heavy-hearted weeks, during which he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t even breathe (or at least, he doesn’t remember breathing, anyway). He can’t taste. His fingers are numb, he can’t touch. His heart seems to have frozen in place and forgotten how to beat.

The basement, which he hasn’t dared enter since the night she left, is dark. Nancy is by his side, attired in a lace black dress which reaches her knees. She places her hand on his shoulder. “Mike? Are you…?”

“No. Yeah. I’m good. Totally good.”

She looks down at him with the same expression she’s been bearing for a while. It’s pity, mixed with some form of awe and admiration. “I’ll be here,” she whispers.

Mike nods. That’s enough for him just then. Her solidarity brings him some form of courage. So he takes a deep breath and begins his descent of the stairwell to the basement, his sister lingering a few steps behind. The light is on down below, and he can hear his friends muttering among themselves.

It doesn’t take much for his heart to break these days. Seeing them, though — that does it.

Keep reading

Red

stydia au, angst.
4,779 words. 



She wishes it didn’t happen like this, but it did, and it has, and there’s nothing she can do to change it now.

“In another world,” he whispers into her hair, words spilling over her temple and brushing her eyes shut, “in another universe, with a different you and a different me, we would have been together.”

In this life, though, her entire existence has been racing towards this point.

And there’s no changing it now.




His name is Stiles Stilinski, which is probably the weirdest name she’s ever heard in her life, but somehow it suits him.

They’re in the third grade and he’s moved into the house behind hers, and as she’s swinging in her backyard he climbs the tree overhanging their shared fence. His jeans are too baggy and he tears his shirt on a branch and doesn’t even seem to notice.

“What’s your name?” he asks, perched above her.

She kicks harder so that she can swing to his eye level. “Lydia.” Kick, swing. “Lydia Martin.”

“Lydia Martin,” he repeats, tasting her name on his tongue. “That’s a nice name.”

“Better than Stiles,” she says smugly, testing him.

Keep reading

The circumstances in which Anders changes his outfit always struck me as very unique from other LI. Others change because they’re in love (or at least in a love affair), it indicates hope and happiness. But with Anders, I always felt like it was the sign of him losing hope. Like he was dressing for his own funeral, knowing he will die right after his deed.

I like to imagine he had those robes stored for many years “for a special occasion”, got them all black because “old” Anders  just loved looking cool . And that day he realized there will never be a “special occasion” for him after what he’s about to do, and finally put them on. 

(Sorry for a grim picture, I got really inspired by Andrzej Wróblewski’s art).

five stages of grief

Title: Grief Has Many Names
Fandom: Servamp
Characters: Kuro and his siblings (including Tsubaki), Sakuya, Koyuki, and Mahiru.
Summary: Moving on takes time and patience, and some gentle nudging in the right direction.
Warnings: Major Character Death, suicide mention, alcohol mention.
Notes: I was going to have this up earlier, but something came up ;; My apologies for the delay and here’s the full-length story. Also, warning - it’s a long one. By the way, this was heavily inspired by P.S. I Love You, thanks to some devious minxes that put this idea in my head. (And kudos to anyone who recognizes the new contract item at the end.)

Keep reading

my grandma's thoughts on musical characters
  • elphaba thropp: "oh my god... she's GREEN. why is she GREEN? is she sick?"
  • maria reynolds: "she looks like she came from a really rich, high quality strip club"
  • evan hansen: "his arm is broken and he looks like his emotions are broken too"
  • katherine pulitzer: "i wish i looked like her"
  • connor murphy: "why is he dressed in all black? is he going to a funeral?"
  • carrie white: "jeez, what's up with all the blood? did someone murder her?"
  • heather chandler: "oh she's really pretty! is she nice?"
  • jason dean: "is he friends with connor? are they going to the funeral together? is it the bloody girl's funeral?"
  • jared kleinman: "he looks like a nerd and i don't like him"
  • galinda upland: "why the hell is her dress so big? how does she even walk?"
  • margaret white: "...she looks scary. i don't trust her"
  • heather duke: "didn't you just show me heather? oh. this is a different heather. she looks mean"
  • alexander hamilton: "wait there's a musical about that dude? why?"
  • natasha rostova: "i like her. she looks happy"
  • lizzie borden: "that's supposed to be lizzie borden? why's she wearing leather? that's... interesting"
  • zoe murphy: "she looks like the bloody girl, except she's happy and not bloody now"
  • sonny de la vega: "he looks like a nice young man"
  • jack kelly: "he looks like he got beat up. is he okay?"
  • crutchie morris: "he looks like the the kid with the broken arm but this time his leg is broken and his emotions are stable"
  • heather macnamara: "she's pretty but why are there so many girls named heather"
  • hedwig robinson: "that's... that's a lot of makeup. wow"
  • amélie poulain: "she looks like the natasha girl except she's red and has shorter hair"
  • elizabeth schuyler: "she looks like natasha too!"
  • david jacobs: "he looks nice. is he dating the kid with the broken arm? they'd be cute together"
  • ram sweeney: "he looks like my high school boyfriend. i hated my high school boyfriend"
  • peggy schuyler: "does she work at the fancy strip club too?"
  • jeremy heere: "he... he looks like his childhood was rough. i don't know why"
  • wendla bergmann: "is she dating the bloody girl? they look like they'd be dating"
  • heidi hansen: "she looks stressed out. someone help her"
  • cosette: "she looks nice but she also looks like she needs help"
Amor Vincit Omnia ( 4/20)

Yoongi / Oc Gang Au. 

Chapter 4 

“Water.” I croaked out , the moment I opened my eyes. My throat was so dry I was going to throw up. The room was too bright and the blanket too warm against my skin. I felt sweaty and achy and all-around miserable. It took me a few seconds to realize I wasn’t in the hospital anymore. I was in my bed. My husband’s bed, in the penthouse.

“You’re awake?”

Yoongi’s voice startled me so badly I dug my finger nails into my palm.

“I… ” I stopped and swallowed. He looked very compelling in a white shirt and one of those thin ties . His perfectly tailored slacks made him loom over me, hands tucked into the pockets as he came to stand next to the bed, staring down at me with an expression that was guarded and impossible to interpret. Too tired to play mind games , I shut my eyes.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a bruised rib. You’ll be fine in a week or so.” He said softly, staring unblinkingly down at me. I hesitated and then finally gathered my senses.

“I need water.” I said. He nodded and went to the table, pouring some into a cut glass. He came over to the bed and I realized that I had no energy to sit up. But he was already sitting down on the bed next to me, slipping an arm around my waist and helping me sit up. When I began raising myself up, the blanket on me slipped down and cold air hit my breasts.

It took me a second to realize that I was naked from the waist up and the blanket was slipping down . I yelped and jumped, knocking the glass out of his hand in my rush to grab the blanket and preserve my modesty. But the sharp movement jolted my ribs badly and Yoongi’s arms tightened around my bare shoulders.

“Easy…Easy…i got you…” He was suffocatingly close, his scent practically smothering me like a funeral shroud. Why did he keep saying that he got me??

“My clothes…I..” I choked out and he immediately let me go, jumping a bit and moving away, finally noticing that I wasn’t dressed.

“Fuck..I’m sorry…I… hold on.” He stepped away and walked right out of the room.

I was still thirsty and I stared after him in confusion and misery. But a few seconds later someone else came in. A young woman, maybe a few years older than Yoongi. She looked a lot like him I realized.

“Hello there Ji Soo ssi… How’re you feeling? ” She smiled brightly and it was the same breathtaking smile.

“I…I need some water.” I said quickly. she nodded and quickly poured me a glass and helped me drink it. Then she went to the dresser and returned with a bikini bra and a see through white top that was about three sizes too big for me. But I didn’t complain. The loose fabric kept the pressure off my ribs and was easy to slip on.

“I’m Min Hyo Rin. Yoongi’s cousin.” She smiled. I nodded quickly. I glanced quickly at my finger and my wrist. No ring or watch.

“My jewelry..” I said nervously and she looked surprised.

“Oh Yoongi put them back in your box. You won’t be going out for a while so don’t worry too much about it. ” she smiled. A knock on the door made both of us look up. it was Yoongi again, now with a blazer over his shirt. He gave Hyo Rin a look.

“Can I have a word with her?” He said gruffly and She immediately stood and bowed before quietly slipping out. I missed her already. It had been so many years since a lady had been nice to me.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi said, glancing at the bed as though deciding whether he should sit down or not. Finally he decided against it but to my complete shock, he sank to his knees next to me, elbow resting on my pillow as he looked at me.

Min Yoongi in a tux and on his knees near my bed was just all sorts of wrong and I turned away, my entire body heating up in discomfort. He reached out to touch my face and I jumped and moved away quickly. He immediately drew back, looking flustered.

“ Can you tell me what happened?” He said finally.

I hesitated. It was such a simple question but I couldn’t think of anything to say. What happened really? What did i do wrong? I didn’t know. I’d never known.

Finally I shook my head .

“Okay. That’s alright. You’re okay now. You don’t have to see him again.” He said softly. I stared at him.

“When am I getting my divorce?” I said finally. He sighed and stood up.

“We’ll talk about this when you get better. Sleep well.” He said brusquely. Before I could protest, he turned around and stalked away.

“I hope you’ll accept my apologies. But I really couldn’t hide it from Yoongi. Come on, he’s your husband. ” Nam Joon said briskly, putting fresh flowers in a vase and placing it on the table . I nodded and poured him a glass of wine. I understood of course. Yoongi was rich and famous and successful. He would come under a lot of fire if his battered wife came stumbling into a hospital. So he’d stepped in and covered it up.

All six of them were over for dinner and only my husband hadn’t arrived. I’d been told to stay away from the preparations and to rest. Consequently I had no idea what the dinner menu was or anything. Hyo Rin had taken care of all that. She’s also helped me out by trimming my hair. Not a lot. Just enough for it to hang below by shoulders in a simple straight cut.

I was wearing an off white gown with a sable trim near the waist. My ribs hurt a lot less. It was already a week or so since I’d been here and my husband had studiously avoided me. Hyo Rin stayed with me round the clock and was sure to assure me that Yoongi was a very busy man . I shouldn’t think he was being unfaithful or anything.  I wondered what he would say if I told her he’d had sex with another woman on our first night.

Anyway, all that was immaterial. I’d been looking up jobs online and I had a bunch of places shortlisted. I’d start looking for a job and then maybe sell some jewelry and get myself an apartment. I couldn’t stay inside this house without wanting to scream bloody murder.

“Have you been waiting long?” Yoongi’s voice was so close to my ear, I went freeze-frame still. I hadn’t even heard him come in. I turned and he gave me a lopsided smirk. Before i could fully process what he was doing he lightly grabbed my palm and placed it on his forearm.

“Let’s go say hi to my friends.” He said smoothly and I pulled back, surprised.

“What are you trying to do?” I said roughly and he sighed.

“Can we not do this right now? Those are our guests today. Don’t embarrass them by bringing up personal stuff now. ”

“Fine. But after they leave, we need to talk.” I said stubbornly. He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair and looked rakishly handsome . Sometimes the universe is so unfair. A horrible man ought to look horrible, don’t you think? Horrible. Not like a fallen angel created to tempt saints.

He gave me a calculating look and then shrugged. Like it didn’t matter what I had to say but he would indulge me this once.

“Anyways, once again they let EXO’s leader escape. Our police force is pretty weak.” Seokjin shook his head in denial.

“EXO is pretty good.  They’ve been evading any serious charges for over five years now.” Jimin commented.

“Not as good as BTS. They’re the ones capable of taking EXO out, if they want to.” Namjoon said strongly and Yoongi grinned.

“That’s true. If BTS wants to destroy EXO , I doubt anything can stand in their way.”

“What is BTS and EXO?” I said in confusion.

“Rival gangs operating in Seoul , Daegu and Busan. ” Yoongi gave me a smile and a light squeeze of the shoulder. I heard some more talk about BTS and EXo. From what I could gather they were both rivals and went about killing and torturing people for their own criminal gains. But where EXO indulged in a lot of illegal trafficking and money laundering, BTS used almost all its money and power to provide better services for some of the exploited groups.

I was suddenly immensely glad that I’d never once encountered these violent gangs. Violence and I did not mix well.

I listened to their talks, vaguely noting that they had really nice soothing voices. Especially my husband.

Surprisingly,I had a nice time with Yoongi’s friends. They were playful and funny . No at all like stuffy businessmen with busy schedules. Instead, they seemed to genuinely enjoy life and each others company. As the evening wore on the pain in my rib began intensifying. I wanted to go lie down. But I also wanted to talk to Yoongi.

“Are you tired?” His voice was liquid gold against my ears, warm and enticing and I moved closer to him, almost unconsciously. He draped an arm around me at once and if I’d been a little less tired I may have moved out of his embrace. But my body ached and his chest was so warm and hard and firm against my back. i leaned into him and he was tall enough for my head to nestle beneath the curve of his throat.  His fingers fluttered against my bare shoulders in gentle soothing touches .

“You can get some shut-eye if you want…” He whispered, his voice low and rugged and all kinds of beautiful . What was wrong with me?

But as it turned out, I did fall asleep.

When I woke up it was still dark and I wasn’t alone in my bed.

Yoongi lay on his side, facing away from me. He slept with his shirt off, and my throat went a bit dry at the sight of his pale back. I wanted to turn around but it was a bit too difficult. My ribs still hurt.

I tried to take a long deep breathe the way I’d been asked to. I managed a couple before a sudden sharp pain hit my lung and I let out a loud whimper.

Yoongi stirred next to me and I clamped  a hand down on my throat. But it was too late and he turned around.

“Are you alright?” He said groggily, voice heavy with sleep. It was too dim to see his expression but then he was sitting up and switching on the bedside lamp.

I stared at him as he looked down at me.

“I want to move out…” I said before I could change my mind and put it off. Yoongi blinked against the light and actually groaned. The sound was oddly seductive. Tired and rough around the edges.

“It’s two in the morning. You woke me up for this?” He snapped. I hesitated and then pulled myself up to a sitting position next to him. It felt disturbingly intimate to be sitting next to him on the bed, with him shirtless and me in a worn t-shirt.

“You’re never home. I …i want to get out of here. I need a divorce.” I said quickly. He gave me a small smile.

“Why?” He said finally and the question threw me off completely. What the hell did he mean, why?

“I want…I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. But …I’m not your responsibility.” I said brokenly. My thoughts were scattered. I’d never thought I’d have to actually have a reason to divorce him.

“And?”

“You’re in love with another woman.” I said desperately.

“I could break up with her. Nothing’s written in stone right? Except our marriage. that kind of is. ” He said suddenly. I stared at him, confused and upset. What was he doing? What was he saying?

“Are you breaking up with her?” I said in confusion. He gave me another amused smile.

“No. I am not.” He said calmly.

I felt like I was being toyed with.

“You should be happy I want to leave.You never wanted to marry me in the first place.” I protested .

“And you didn’t want to give me a divorce. Funny how times change, right?” he smirked, leaning back, looking thoroughly entertained.

“You don’t really care what happens to me…why’re you doing this?” I snapped. His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You’re in my house. In my bed. I found you half beaten to death and paid for all your medical expenses. I dragged my own sister out of her busy career and forced her to stay here and look after you. What exactly do you mean by ’ not care what happens to you ’ ” He snapped.

“You only took care of me because if someone else found me you’d get arrested for domestic abuse.” I said shrilly, before I could stop.

He snarled  so roughly my heart stopped pumping for a second.

And then he drew back, fighting to rein in his temper.

“I’m….sorry that you feel that way. ” He said softly. And then he turned to the stand and picked his phone up. His eyes fixed unblinkingly on me, he dialed quickly.

“What are you doing?” I said nervously.

“Keep my car ready. No chauffeur. I’ll do the driving.” He barked into the phone. I stared as he stepped out of the bed. I turned away with flushed cheeks when i realized he was only wearing boxers. He opened the closet and pulled on a black t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He looked like something out of an anime with his shocking pale skin against the dark shirt. His white blonde hair looked unfairly good, considering he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Get up. We’re going somewhere special.” He said roughly.

I stayed frozen in spot.

“Now? I’m not dressed I…”

“What you’re wearing is perfect. I wouldn’t want one of your pretty little gowns to get dirty.” He moved to my side of the bed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, helping me stand.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing…” I said nervously but he ignored me, stepping forward and grabbing my hair together in his fist. I was too shocked to move when he calmly tied it up with a hairtie. I had a lot of trouble combing my hair because raising my arm made my rib hurt. I didn’t even want to know why he knew that. He kept his arm around me as he led me out of the penthouse and to the parking lot. His solid black Mercedes stood ready and he helped me into the front seat and buckled me in.

When we pulled out of the lot to the almost deserted streets, he reached out and squeezed my knee.

“I think this should be a good learning experience for you.” He said calmly. I stared straight ahead, mildly terrified. Where exactly was he taking me? My fears doubled when we moved out of the suburbs to the shadier parts of the city. My husband took three dozen complicated turns before stopping in front of an abandoned warehouse.

“We’re here.” He smiled eerily.

“Where’s here?” I said nervously, hands clasped closely together on my lap.

“This is… let’s say this is the place I come to finish off tricky deals. You know..the ones I don’t get done in the boardroom.”

That sounded very nice, I thought with a grimace.

Sweating bullets, I allowed myself to be led out, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders. I stopped moving when we reached the entrance and the sound of groaning reached my ears. Whoever it was was being hurt badly. The pain was evident even through the feeble sounds that managed to permeate outside. Suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to find on the other side of that door. Panicking I tried to turn away but his hands curled around my shoulders with brute force.

“Oh, no you don’t!! No wife of mine gets to accuse me of being an uncaring bastard and get away with it. I’m gonna show you just how much I care about things that belong to me.” He hissed.

things that belonged to me.

I panicked even more at that phrase. I didn’t want to belong to anyone, least of all this man.

He all but dragged me to the entrance and the security guard didn’t even spare us a glance before opening the door for us.

The inside smelled damp, dirty and bloody. Nausea threatened and I couldn’t breathe. It was too dark to see anything but the pained moans were louder, coming from the corner of the room. He let me go and then smiled wide, his face morphing into something both angelic and demonic. I stared at him in genuine horror.

“Yoongi…” I whispered and he stopped smiling. Looking very curious he stepped forward and brushed a thumb across my lower lip.

“I like the way you say my name. This is the first time I’m hearing you say it.” He said in complete fascination.

I stopped and stepped back. This whole thing was going out of hand.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked finally.

“I have a present for you.” He grabbed my wrist and lightly tugged me closer to the shadows. The sounds increased in volume and slowly a passage way came into view, a dim light at the end of it. I let myself be led to the light and then stopped when the picture came into view.

It was a chair, and someone was tied to it. Next to the chair was a table with a baseball bat and some other knives and instruments . The sort you see in interrogation videos. I could feel my stomach begin to churn. Oh, God what was I doing here? Who exactly was I married to??

The man in the chair finally groaned again and my eyes shot to him.

Beneath the chair was a small puddle of dried blood, and whoever it was had his face completely covered by a gunny sack that was bloody where his mouth and nose should be. I couldn’t stop the bile that rose up my throat and retched out in desperation. My husband ignored my little episode and gently pulled me closer.

“You have a visitor ,  abeonim.”

I stopped short and went ice cold.

No. No. No. No.

Yoongi pulled the gurney sack off.

It was my father.

Someone was screaming loud and hard and without pause and my vision was blurring. I fell back in shock, disgust and horror and Yoongi wrapped his arm around me. It took me a second to realize that I was the one screaming.

He cradled me close, right against his chest, whispering nothing and everything as he tried to calm me down, his voice steady and sure.

“See how much i care about you? I’m sending this bastard to hell because he dared to touch what’s mine….” He said slowly, lightly kissing the side of my cheekbone. And then my neck.

“No..No..I..Please..” Who was I begging to? What was I begging for?? I didn’t know. My mind was caving in on itself. This wasn’t the man I married.

Yoongi kissed my neck again, this time lightly licking the little bit of sweat that had gathered near my hairline.

“I warned you…i warned you not to marry me, my pretty little princess. Even made up that cock and bull story about being in love with someone else. Do you know how hard it was for me and Hye Mi to put on that goddamn act?? All because I thought you were too pretty to get dragged into the hellhole that is my life. But did you have the good sense to listen? No. You had to stick around. ” He shook his head and lowered me to the ground before pulling out a gun and cocking it.

I stared in disbelief and horror, too scared to breathe. He walked up casually to my father, grabbed the back of his head and pulled it back to show me his face. My father stared at me in confusion and pitiful pain. i didn’t know what to think. I had hated him all my life. He’d been a monster to me. But I didn’t want him to die.

I didn’t want to see him die.

Yoongi took off the safety and pressed the muzzle against my father’s forehead.

“Yoongi….” i whispered in desperation.

“Not in here, baby girl. Here, I’m not Min Yoongi, CEO Bangtan Inc. Here…I’m Min Suga. Leader. BTS.” He said slowly.

And then he pulled the trigger.

PROMPT: “Please don’t make me socialize.” FAHC Ray to Geoff bc he gets sent out on some mission. Maybe a fancy party where he’s supposed to mingle?

For @kahnah23​, thank you for your generosity and support!! I hope you enjoy it <3

And Ray had been having such a great day, too.

No, seriously. He’d been out late last night on a hit he’d been chasing for weeks. The mark was sneaky and kept managing to evade him, always a step ahead, but it was worth staying up until 4am on a rooftop in the rain just for the satisfaction of finally getting the guy in his sights, pulling the trigger, watching him fall.

He’d had some midnight McDonalds and then slept in until noon and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed watching Netflix and playing Pokemon and altogether bathing in the relaxation of having finally gotten that damn job off his hands. The weekend ahead was looking free and he was thinking about having a nap-

And then Geoff fucking Ramsey came knocking at his door.

“Ray?” he asked, peering into the room, a particular tentativeness in his voice that made Ray sit up at once, alarmed. It was three in the afternoon and he didn’t know where all the others were. The penthouse had been quiet all day - well, all week since Jack and Jeremy had gone interstate for a job.

“What’s up?” he replied. Geoff must’ve seen the look on his face because he immediately raised his hands placatingly and stepped into the room with a smile.

“No need to freak out! Nothing bad’s happened - well, not really. Nothing life threatening.”

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What You’re Missing

prompt: 

genre: smut, angst (but only in the beginning)

warnings: swearing, drinking, rough sex, blowjobs and rimming for a bit, dirty talk for a bit too wow nice

word count: 3136 (damn)

a/n: wow two fics in a row wow go kyra you’re amazing. no but really, i think i’m doing good with the whole ‘a fic a day’ thing. here’s a massive thank you to holly for giving me inspiration and motivation and staying up with me to beta this fic. i honestly really love her <333 i hope you enjoy!! :)

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5.

There are some moments in life that cannot be forgotten or ignored. That is a fact that Alec Lightwood is quickly learning.

They seep into the little cracks in our composure and can either fill them up or spread them farther apart, making them harder to fix than before. We can never see them coming, so we just continue living with the knowledge that both fortunes and misfortunes can strike at any point, and foolishly believe that we will be on the receiving end of luck more frequently than the other way around.

So when we do get hit in the stomach with that breathtaking pain, it usually catches us completely off guard, no matter how much we have thought about it in theory. Because the truth is, no matter how much we imagine and play out scenarios in our heads, we are rarely correct in our assumptions.

If there is one thing that Alec hadn’t been prepared for, it was seeing his little brother laying in a coffin, his skin pale, cold, and lifeless. No longer did blood filled with love rush through his veins, nor did pure happiness and excitement wash over his face. Instead he laid there unmoving, his eyes closed and his mouth twisted into a frown.

Alec thought he would have been ready for this, given how many times he had told himself that it would be just like the nights he found Max asleep on the couch with a comic book lying across his chest, the number of hours he had chanted, stay strong, stay strong, stay strong, to himself before he got to this moment.

But emotions are never that black and white, never just simple orders and commands. They are unpredictable, wild and uncontrollable as they bounce around in the bodies of unsuspecting broken people. They hit organs and they leave marks and scars that will never go away, a constant reminder of what has been lost.

read on ao3

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#124 - For Hunter

Filling the prompt “Can u maybe do one based on the song achie,marry me by alvvays? It’s very cute, maybe like Van writes the song about "archie”, about how she doesn’t want to get married just yet. He adores her so much?“

Note: So, for the sake of meeting the prompt, we’re going to pretend that Alvvays did not write Archie, Marry Me.


It was almost 9:00 pm and you’d not left the house since… since when was it? Maybe the day before, in the morning? You ran across the road for milk. Or, was that the day before that… You went to the markets at some point. Fuck. How long had you been inside? Rolling over in bed, you watched Van sleep. His freckles were fading without the sunlight to keep them dark. Frowning, you let yourself mourn for them for a moment. Then, you poked him in the ribs. He moaned and pushed your hand away. He stretched out under the blanket.

"Van, when did we last go anywhere?” you whispered. He shrugged, not opening his eyes. Looking over at the alarm clock next to the bed, you sat up straight in shock. “Van! It’s like, late! I thought it was dark because it was still early morning! What the fuck.” You got out of bed and walked to the window. Yep. Definitely night time. “What day is it?” You could hear him chuckle. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. You moved to sit on him, straddling his hips. He held both hands up and you leant your weight onto his arms, fingers tangled.

“Don’t know,”

“We could have been in here for a week,”

“So?”

“So?! It’s not healthy. Come on. Get up. We’ll shower and go out for dinner. See what the guys are up to, yeah?”

He shrugged again, and you undressed next to the bed, forcing him awake. He followed you into the bathroom and undressed too. In the shower, you washed each other’s hair and kissed hard.

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