SEQUEL TO DUPLICITY. Complicity- to be involved with others in illegal activity or wrongdoing. After sacrificing herself for Harry's freedom, Aven Brooks is no longer the innocent photographer with big dreams and a bigger heart. Now under the notorious control of Malikai, she becomes brainwashed into being the perfect asset for his organized crime. Harry, a fugitive, spends his days trying to find his angel and reap her out the path he once walked. When that stroke of luck comes his way, he smacks into the harsh reality to what she's actually become. Needless to say, she's no longer an angel. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @HAPPYDAYS1D ALLOWING NO TRANSLATIONS. CONTAINS MATURE LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DRUG USE, VIOLENCE, AND MENTAL HEALTH. READ AT OWN RISK!

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in Yorkshire, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Louis is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival, moody dance prodigy, Harry, joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late? [COMPLETED]

[COMPLETED ✓] A story about an adventurous girl and a lost alien who needs her help to get back home. Copyright © 2015 mesmereyes All Rights Reserved [Cover by: Myself]

louis has always wanted to fly. © All Rights Reserved.

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser

"you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll." and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't. okay, maybe a little. *** 1ST PLACE IN THE HOLIDAY 2014 BROMANCE AWARDS FOR FAMOUS LARRY STORIES. #2 in Fanfiction #1 in One Direction

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.