& he told me i was h o l y.

"My demons are begging me to open up my mouth. I need them. Mechanically make the words come out. They fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce. Ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about.. Selfish, taking what I want and call it mine. I'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine. They rush me, telling me I'm running out of time. They shush me, walking me across a fragile line.” - Hold me down.

[brxvehexrt-blog]

A light chuckle passed his lips at her question. He was just as mischievous as any kid his age but it had yet to stir the darker blood he carried in his veins. “I just need to go into town to get a few things for one of the early performances. Hence why I’m out here, literally, risking my life.” The murders scared him but they peaked his curiosity more than he liked to admit. Which is why he had been willing to risk it but he honestly felt so much safer with the girl by his side.

Somehow, without his knowledge, she had become someone he trusted and someone he depended on. Finley had no idea why she had chosen to approach him but it never came off as odd since he was aware of his charming qualities. Something he could thank his upbringing for. An upbringing that he would someday find a blessing when he learned the real reason she had found and interest in him to begin with.

She remembered when she had first learned of him. Finding out that your father had another child was tough for anyone but finding out that there was someone out there who held half your blood and none of sin that came with it was even harder to swallow. At first had been furious at her father and his indiscretions, furious that he had tainted their line with a child not of her mother’s but as she channeled feelings she thought she’d lost long ago, the brunette remembered getting to her knees and thanking whatever force their had been that made it so Finley had never known their father.

Thankful that he didn’t know the darkness that came with the Black name, thankful that he hadn’t been robbed of innocence and broken to the point of no return all for a wretched father who might never have loved them at all, her father had always wanted a warrior not a daughter. As he spoke Amalie found the hints of her brother’s tone and the way his eyes danced with the same light Silas’ own held, they both looked and acted so alike. Amalie couldn’t say why she had been the one to receive the most of their father, but as she looked at his youthful features and the way he carried himself, no blood on his hands, Amalie was thankful that she had been the one to get the worst of it.

“You may call yourself devoted to the show,” Her Swedish accent moved between them as she walked along side of him, “I call your devotion stupidity in disguise, but I am interested to see what is more important than your life, or at least seems more important.”

[emmastome]

[brxvehexrt-blog]

“But this one needs to be done by morning and if someone wanted to kill me it would mean they’re willing to risk having you on their ass.” Finley was unaware of the blood they shared due to the fact he had yet to discover who his real father was but regardless, he had developed a sibling bond with the brunette. One he would cherish just as much if he knew.

Amalie couldn’t help the stupid grin that came to her face, the boy always keeping her on her toes, one way or another. However as he made the small smile appear on her face appear, the brunette fought the urge she always had to tell him what he was to her, what he meant to her. It was true she found herself appearing to him, watching him and trying to keep him from finding out, yet at the same time she felt like he needed to know, needed to know what he was and how lucky he was not to be part of this wretched life, she wanted to tell him to run.

But she was after all a Black and with that came selfishness. She was so selfish with him that instead of leaving him alone, she pursued and grew more and more fond of him every day. As the smile faded her words rose up again, “Well if it must be done, I’m sure you won’t mind if I tag along, it’s not like its anything illegal....right?” She asked the light hint in her tone.

[brxvehexrt-blog]

“Me? I’m just running an errand.”

“I would think errands could wait until it was morning again, wouldn’t you?” Amalie questioned the boy who she had come to know was half her blood, “What with a murderer running loose and rampant.”

[admirationhes-deactivated201808]

[brxvehexrt-blog]

verry tired so im gonna nap for a bit, got replies i owe but for rn pce from amalie, helena, charles, tilly and jaime (:

[brxvehexrt-blog]

princeofmayhcm

Residents laid eyes on the Men of Mayhem patch and scattered like bugs, the leather patch on his back was no exception to this act. While their actions were questionable, they were something of a vigilante, wanting nothing more than to protect their community, their little town. But for many, they were just a pack of criminals who wore leather and rode bikes. What a misconception.

Regardless this night wasn’t able the vice president, it wasn’t about his club, it was able the fallen figures of their nation, Lilith included. Sweet Lilith, president Cormier’s beloved, Tilly and Harri’s mother. Of course the formal funeral was years ago, but this was about remembering. Standing on the shore of the ocean, the smell of salt and smoke filling his nostrils as he lit a cigarette, toffee-stained orbs catching someone approaching, without looking to see who he or she was, his tobacco-stained lips parted. “Look, we ain’t here to cause any trouble.”

We, being his club, the line one that left his lips more often than not, reminding citizens that they were on their side was a regular occurrence for the vice president.

It was only expected that they would employ the police for an event like this, however detectives weren’t usually on those rosters. Why Amalie was here? Simple after her runaway stint, Lauren told her if she wanted to keep her job she would do some community work, Amalie had planned to ditch that completely but after Lauren hadn’t taken no for an answer and while she wouldn’t admit it she had a strange form of attachment to this town and all the things it had brought her, both good and bad. 

Directing people had been her biggest challenge of the day, Amalie Black and public interaction didn’t exactly go well. Lauren was quick to realize that and instead sent her to check up on the guest that had ‘surprised’ to put it kindly the rest of the town folk. Amalie had nothing against bikers, hell she could relate to some of their codes. A patch for them was like black blood to her, making her way over to what she could make was the vice president, considering it said it on his vest, Amalie watched every biker turn to watch her approach. She didn’t know if it was precautionary or simple observation, the brunette didn’t mind it as she stood before him now. 

“You have as much right to this as any of the people around her.” The Swedish accent bled through as she answered him, Lauren had told her to make sure nothing troublesome happened from this group and while Amalie was no baby sitter she agreed to do it, one look at this man though assured her this was going to be the easiest job she ever had. “Don’t take offense, but my boss wants me to make sure this goes over easy, for everyone involved.” Her words weren’t a warning but an understanding, she knew that they didn’t seek to hurt any of these people not directly at least but made sure that they understood threat or not the people here did shiver at the sight of some of them. 

[ofliqucr-blog]

Her words were once covered in the harshest ice, the coldest frost that dripped with venom and dared to poison any man or woman who disobeyed the dark-haired vixen. But now, hearing her Swedish accent purr empty threats in his ears was like heaven, a heaven he never wished to leave. He knew she meant nothing by it, he had cracked the marble only to reveal a goddess who behind sharp daggers and bloody arrows, was as playful as a six week old puppy. 

The graze of plump lips against his chest was enough to make his cheeks burn with a smile, not the kind of smile you give a stranger on the street or a distant cousin. But the kind of smile that bled with happiness, that made your flesh feel on fire, burnt with passion and love. Love, love, love. He sworn he had said it more in one night than he had in twenty-seven years. One muscular arm was loosely tangled around her neck, strands of sandy hair tickling his skin as they fell over his tattooed arms, his other bent with fingers curled around her tiny wrist. A wrist that could break a man’s ribs or slice a woman’s heart in two. 

“Nothing, huh darlin’?” His husky tone questioning, his face so close to hers, his hot breath brushing her porcelain skin as he inched closer, enough for his tobacco stained lips to graze hers. “Then maybe I need to give you a reason to stay in this sheets.” It was a sensuous whisper that fell off his pink tongue like her little black dress had fallen off the previous night. 

Lips caught hers, desire and lust replaced with romance and affection. His tender touch parted against hers as a hand ran up her arm to cup her rosy cheek. Nothing else mattered in that moment, not the fact they were both expected at the station in thirty minutes, not the fact that reality – Adrian’s fatherhood, Amalie’s family had yet to strike them, nothing. They were the sun, the moon, the goddamn universe in that moment of their bodies moulded together and their lips in a haze of intimacy. 

[brxvehexrt-blog]

Amalie Black had never been a fairytale girl, she didn’t hope for a prince when she was a child or wish upon stars. Amalie had always had a hard time swallowing fairytales, they were poison to her growing up, or at least that’s how her father treated them. Fairytales were for girls who dreamed of being princesses, whether that would have been the case for Amalie or not, her father made sure that she knew that warrior’s didn’t wear crowns, his daughter wouldn’t be waiting for a prince, she was meant for death and destruction. So when the rising sun danced across her pale skin as she was wrapped in Adrian’s embrace, she had a hard time swallowing it. Was this what fairytales felt like? Was this considered a happy ending? They were far from done but in that moment she felt like if her story had to end, she wanted it to end right here.

His next words caused a small giggle to escape her lips, Amalie Black giggling wasn’t that a sound so impossible. As he engulfed her lips, the dark haired woman moved herself closer, never close enough to him. They could be naked and pressed against each other and they would still not be close enough, not by several miles to the Swedish woman. As he touched her, his touch igniting the fire within her and yet with each moment she looked into his eyes, Amalie realized that he had found a way to control her flames. Her arm moved down to his abdomen, the tips of her fingers teasing the flesh there as she moved lower. The idea of having him take her once again was almost impossible to resist, almost. 

Her newly awaken mind forged ideas of laughter and mischief, something that her father had tried to take from her long ago. Amalie used to have them all on their toes, most of all her dearest brother, always taking the blame for the mishaps and messes she caused. When her training began, the naughty girl had been suffocated by the art of battle and the benefits of absolute control, actions were never to be for pleasure or for the chance of laugh, there was two reasons for actions, to kill and to survive. As her fingertips wrote her name along his soft skin, the brunette found the appeal to little tricks and how good it felt to be in this very moment. Covered in bliss and love, knowing the taste of adoration and feeling deserving of it. Her hot breath escaped her as she moved her teeth down upon his bottom lip, a sultry look in her dark eyes as she grinded herself against his waist, her intentions clear as she licked her wanting lips.

“What might those reasons be, hmm?” Her seductive tone layered with the hoarseness of sleep and the dreamy look in her desiring eyes.

[stillwiththem-archive-blog]

you don’t have to CHOOSE between fire and ice.  [ insp ]

[ofliqucr-blog]

There was nothing quite like the feeling that filled Adrian’s body during the night. Knowing the woman he loved was tucked away in his arms, knowing he would wake up to find her plump lips, her smile, her everything. Love became a foreign feeling to the man after Mahlia and even then, it would naive of him to say he loved Mahlia the way he did Amalie. Oh no, loving Amalie was like a state of raw passion, no sugar coating was needed with her, everything was stripped to its rawest form and he indulged it greatly.

The downside to their job was the shifts, the ridiculous hours Lauren set and expected them there once the clock strike that minute, no later. The sun had just rose and the harsh glisten reflected through the curtains as Adrian gently pecked the forehead of his sleeping warrior. “Babe, we have to get up, duty calls.” A husky whisper fell from his lips, dripping with affection.

Her reaction was exactly as he predicated, a soft chuckle was caught in his throat as her sleepy Swedish accent filled his ears. It was the best music to wake up to, even if it was covered with empty threats and a refusal to leave the bed they had only made love in hours before. “No you won’t …” He continued placing tiny kisses along her flesh, each as tender as the previous. “There’s nothing I can to tempt you to get up and get dressed? Because I would hate to have to pick you up and carry you out of here.” He added, his time baby blue hues raked over her facial features, that damn beauty, his natural reflex was to pull her closer.

[brxvehexrt-blog]

He didn’t know how she had been up longer than him. He didn’t know how she had been trained to still her heart and fooled him into thinking she was sleeping. She’d spent the rest of the night, after he had taken her pleasure to new lengths, just falling deeper in love. She had been gazing at his perfect face, his facial hair a source of interest, the bridge of his nose fascinating, the blonde soft hair looking as magnificent as gold. Amalie had been telling him she loved him every time she touched his soft flesh, whispering sweet nothings as she found herself obsessed by just the length of his lashes.

It was all so surreal. Loving someone and having them love you back. Sure, there was a time when her father had been her first love, the girl a complete daddy’s girl, times where her mother’s soft voice and touch had been the source of her heartbeats and as she had grown slightly older, she had fallen for her brother in the purest most innocent love their was. Sibling love. A love unlike any other, it was armies of devotion and years of allegiance. It was knowing the other like you knew yourself, it was two sides of the same coin, it was two souls completely wound around each other, but this love. This love was something so completely different. 

This love had come with a hurricane. This love had busted down walls and howled in the deepest parts of them both. This love had been unexpected. You were supposed to love you father, love your mother, love your brother. You weren’t supposed to love the drunk cop with too many regrets, you weren’t supposed to love the murderess with the daggers for eyes and the wicked tongue. You weren’t supposed to love them and they weren’t supposed to have ever loved again. Yet here she was wrapped up in his arms and engulfed in him. She was covered in him, enveloped in him, swallowed by him. Never having known this closeness, it was so far from suffocating. It was so far that Amalie wanted more, she wanted to breath his air, she wanted to pump his blood through her veins, she wanted to lend him her strength, she wanted to no longer be herself but be part of him. 

“No. You can not get me out of this bed, if you dare lift me or leave me, you will pay for it and you will not like the price.” As she spoke words with no truth behind them, Amalie felt that stupid love drunk smile creep up onto her striking swedish features. Placing a kiss upon his chest and wrapping herself around him, her arms around him, her legs around his waist. Catching him in a web of her limbs and her heat, this is how she wanted to stay forever. 

“You couldn’t persuade me to leave this bed in any way, nothing could possibly convince me getting out of these sheets is a good idea.”

[brxvehexrt-blog]

ofliqucr​

A long drawn out groan escaped the woman as she buried herself back under the soft sheets, wrapping herself up in the scent of him and doodling on the edge of sleeping and awake. It was too early, it was way too early, Amalie was not about to get up before eight in the morning, there was no way. Sure she got shit from Lauren and the rest of the station, but Amalie Black had been late too many times in a row for them to expect her to be on time. 

The dark haired vixen was not a morning person, you could ask her to solve a case, you ask her to break some skulls, but you could not ask her to get up before the sun even did. Whenever she had missions in the past, Amalie had planned them all after dark, she worked well in the dark, thought best in the dark, felt at home in dark. However after her deepest confession coming to light and the man who had awaken parts in her she thought were dead came back into her life she found herself being tugged at way too early for her liking. 

“Five more minutes.” The woman whispered against the pillow, her hair sprawled around her and his shirt being the only thing covering her besides the thin sheet, “Adrian if you do not stop I will kick your ass.” Her empty threat leaving her lips, voice drunken with sleep.

[soymilklesbian-deactivated20171]

make me choose ♡ liamsdunbar asked

boyd’s death or allison’s death (x)

[wnq-writers]

She has a triangular heart, rude and reckless, and a mind made of sharp edges, yet possesses a gentle attitude; but her soul could never be dressed in words.

VàZaki Nada (via wnq-writers)

[ofliqucr-blog]

He had seen every inch of naked body, cherished every crook with his fingers and worshiped every scar and bruise with his lips. He never questioned what he saw in those moments, the scars that stained her back, chest, arms and legs. She was the kind of woman you didn’t question, you indulged her for what she was, for who she was, no complaints, no curiosity. But the silence didn’t bother Adrian, he assumed she had her tales just as he did and laying there, sharing a cigarette after sharing a moment of lust was not the time to spill their guts.

But now part of her story was bared, the part where she slowly lifted up the mask she wore oh so well. She wasn’t a real detective. Yet another sign of her love, to tell the truth, something she would never had dared do months ago. “Who are you, Amalie Black?” It was all he could say, all he craved with every nerve fiber in him, to know who she is, really is. 

Then came her next truth and the distance between them was closing. He listened, absorbed every word that left her plump lips. He could see the strength it took for her to mutter the words, the ice was beginning to melt. But he didn’t comment, yet, he remained silent and let her bare her soul, let her give Adrian a taste of who Amalie Black is, really is.

Then the word monster hit his eardrums and stung him like a thorn in a rose. “No.” His immediate response was as sharp as a blade. He knew monster, the kind that plays the innocent, lures you in with a golden smile and butchers your heart. “I have loved a monster …” He needed to crush her doubts, her self-loathing, he needed to show that she was not the darkness, but the light, even if that meant retelling the thing that he is most ashamed of. “I loved her, only to give her a ring and have her murder my parents at the alter … My brother and sister will never forgive me, I will never forgive myself. I know what a monster is and you, you are a fucking hero, Black.” His usual husky, low voice cracked as he gave her a truth in return.

“You taught me how to love again, Amalie, you gave me something I thought I had lost forever …” He couldn’t stay away, he refused. It was his chance to have sunshine, happiness, he could not let her slip away. “I can’t stay away ….”

“I love you.” No three words had wore the fire, bore the emotion they did as they left Adrian Beckett’s lips.

[brxvehexrt-blog]

It wouldn’t have been like Amalie to not know of his past, both Black siblings were to know everything around them, every suspected target or history, every precaution to take and every threat to eliminate. Amalie never ever admitted knowing of his past, it was an intrusion she had made, an intrusion he trusted her with now. As he disregarded her words, told her she was a hero, Amalie felt it hard to breathe. Amalie could love him. Amalie loved him, but the woman would never love herself, there was nothing left to love.

Amalie was nothing more than the two men that held halves of her heart, her brother and Adrian. She didn’t have bits of herself she liked, she only cherished the fact that something about her repulsive mind had kept these men at her side, that they had seen something worth loving, worth fighting for. 

He reminded her of his devotion with those three words, the ones he demanded from her in no violent force but in a plea of emotion. He wanted to know that she wasn’t all in, that every trick, every card, everything was on the line this time. Amalie could remember how her father would tell her that only a foolish played all his cards on one uncertainty, Adrian was no fool, Adrian was right on his money, he was certain that her heart was his and that she would be a woman worth loving from the moment he knew her. 

He was as sure as her brother was when he told her she was worth saving, she was worth protecting all these years. But he was also as sure as her father had been when he said she would be his warrior, she would burn down the world in the name of her papa and she would crush anything in her wake.  He was sure as her mother was when she told her sweet girl that she would be a source of greatness one day, that she was going to be so great men would lay down their lives for her, or worse their hearts. 

He was as sure as she was when she was driving down that highway, half a bottle of vodka down and she was debating driving herself off a cliff, how sure she was that she loved this man and that she would taint him with the Blackness of her heart. As sure as she was when she taking out her frustrations on drunken men from bars where they beat women and hurt children, breaking bones and cracking skulls because she wanted to feel the thrill she used to feel when she spilled blood only to find the only thrilled lied in the small moment of vulnerability she felt when he traced the scars on her body after a lustful night. 

Her dark eyes darted to him as every emotion crossed her mind, every ounce of pain and sadness and every moment that had molded her into the woman she was now. Whether it was the parts of her that were strong, or the ones that were broken beyond repair, the full parts an the empty parts. 

“I am no hero, Adrian.” Her words were very soft spoken, it was a confession she didn’t want anyone to hear besides him, no one needed to know besides him, “I am no hero, but I do.”

“I do love you.” Her heart was slamming against every part her chest and she was fighting every urge to run at the admission of emotion, “I love you, I have loved you despite the fact that I know I should not love anyone. Despite the fact that I was trained to feel nothing, I fell in love with you. I am in love with you Adrian Beckett.” It seemed after the first time, Amalie couldn’t stop saying it. Looking at him, Amalie looked for the consequences of her actions, the consequences of admitting her emotions.

[quoted-books]

It’s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she’s never been anything but dead, than to miss her at all the places where she was alive.

John Scalzi, Old Man’s War (via quoted-books)

[brxvehexrt-blog]

wow ok i was gonna do replies but i forgot homework so im gonna do that till like forever and then go mimis. love you lot and goodnight xx

[habiiits]

DESPAIR.  that seemed all he was capable of lately. and anger. the only time he could ever feel anything else was when there was outside influence in the form of drugs & alcohol. sometimes still even then his anger flared. so angry all the time, so useless. he let out a shout as he threw the half-empty bottle of whiskey as hard as he could, nearly dislocating his arm. he barely even heard it smash on the pavement.

[brxvehexrt-blog]

Clever footing allotted the woman to avoid every drop the came after the glass shattered agains the pavement. Normally Amalie would not find herself in drunk company, however it looked like that’s where she would be. Coming to the freakshow in search of her brother, the swedish woman always found him around a certain blonde however instead of finding him she found a man with a look she knew all to well.

“If you were trying to hit me, you have poor aim.” Her unwavering voice broke the silence between them.