in all seriousness though 'light in the dark' ALWAYS murders me

Humans Are Weird: Women Edition Part II

Continuation of my Humans Are Weird: Women Edition that no one asked for! What aspect of women in society will this entail? I do not know. Vallion will be telling the story, so let’s see what they have to tell.

Part I >> Part III

~~~~~~~~~

Several Earthen moon cycles had passed since the porn incident and Vallion sensed their crew had settled into a dormant state. They did not like the feeling. It had been proven time and time again by the humans that, when things became quiet and calm, it was only a precursor for chaos and mayhem. They shared their thoughts with Lt. Gen. Noriko Murakami and Brig. Gen. Lillian Balogh during their refreshment break, termed “coffee break”, in the mess hall (though coffee could kill a H’hish within an hour if medical action was not taken, humans had no problem consuming the beverage. A H’hish could only consume it if the coffee was decaffeinated). Needless to say, the human women were far from helpful. Instead of easing their doubts and worries, the two multiplied it ten-fold.

The three of them were reclined in their chairs when Vallion brought up the subject. “I feel that something…ominous will happen soon; and I do not believe it is because of that awful movie I and the other H’hish were made to watch by your fellow humans.” Vallion was firm in their belief and gave the two women, one their superior officer and the other their subordinate, a stern, pointed look he often saw other humans direct toward each other in such situations.

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Cold Hands and Warm Freckles

Request: “Oooo what about a Draco x Reader where they are dating but someone uses a love potion on her and breaks up with Draco but then he realises what has happened and is super angry but fixes everything? Xxx”

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1679 (short but sweet)

Warnings: Uhh like non consent? idk

Originally posted by nellaey


You smiled down at your captured hand, pale fingers intertwined with yours. Draco’s hands were always cold, even in the middle of summer. It was as if he had just taken them out of an ice bath, and they were perfectly pristine as well. But that slowly changed, the longer you two were together. You took him out for more days under the sun, and gradually his pale flesh, though mostly unnoticeable, had gained some colour, along with a few spotted freckles. He groaned whenever he’d find a new one, but you’d just kiss the spot, telling him how cute it was. His hands stopped being so cold, and they grew rougher. One day, when exploring through the Forbidden Forest, he has cut his palm on a sharp branch. You fretted over his wound, and made sure it healed well, but it still left a nasty, jagged scar. Draco was ashamed of it, always avoiding holding your hand with his left one. But with lots of coaxing, he eventually came to like it, after you had pressed countless kisses onto the slightly raised flesh.

“Everything about you is beautiful.” You’d tell him.

“No. But I think you’re turning me into something beautiful.” He replied one day. And it was true.

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Fic: Hang In There, Chloe

Just a short ficlet I wanted to write. Needed some fluff in my life!! Hope you enjoy.


Beca finds this fun. She has multiple reasons why she shouldn’t, but the fact remains. She thinks it’s hilarious. Thinks she’s hilarious. For what it’s worth, Jesse agrees. Benji does not.


She’ll be totally fine hanging out somewhere one minute, then the idea will enter her head and it’s like she can’t help herself.


Chloe does not find it amusing. Chloe calls her a child and shrieks and slaps, and all Beca can do is laugh.

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2

A/N: This is actually a Part II to this Imagine but I guess you can read it without having read the first part too. It was requested by @dark-night-sky-99 and I really liked the idea, so I decided to give it a shot right away. Have fun!

Words: 2793
Warnings: smut

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Party Time

Another Nessian, because apparently I just can’t stop.  Read Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4. Part 5.


“Who’s going to be there?”  Nesta sat on the couch next to Cassian, tucking her feet underneath her, eyes on Willow as the kitten batted around a little ball that had mysteriously appeared in the apartment a few days prior.  

“The usual suspects.  Your sisters, my brothers, Fox Boy, Amren, obviously Mor.  Oh, and Sabine and Brisa.”

“And I have to go.”

One side of his mouth pulled up into his crooked smile as he glanced sideways at her.  “No, you don’t have to go, but your presence would be appreciated.  Besides,” he put an arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer, “we might find something fun to do on the way there.  Or home.”

She rolled her eyes, but he did have a point.  There were lots of shadowy corners and solitary gardens in Velaris where they could sneak away for a little excitement.  “Okay, fine.  But I’ll have to go to the townhouse, I don’t have the right dress here.  And don’t expect me to dance.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw.  “That’s fine, we can fly up there and head to the restaurant with the rest of the group.”  Willow zipped by and he snagged her with one hand, lifting her high above his head.  She looked down at him, waved her little paws, and squeaked in protest, and he chuckled and brought her down to eye level.  “What, tiny one?”  The kitten planted a foot on his lips, and he kissed the little pink pads before setting her back on the ground.  She arched her back, pounced on his toes, then scampered off through the kitchen.

The sun was beginning its descent as they landed in front of the townhouse, earning open-mouthed looks from the kids playing on the street.  Before they could even make it through the gate, they were swarmed by children, all clamoring for Commander Cassian to take them for a flight.  He grabbed one and tossed him in the air, catching him easily before setting him on his feet again.  Nesta headed up the walk while the rest of the kids started climbing Cassian’s legs, turning back in the doorway to watch him spinning and tossing each child, then slowly extend his wings so they could admire them.  The door opened behind her, and Mor’s voice said, “He does that on purpose, you know.  Lands in the street instead of the roof so that the kids will come over.”

Nesta didn’t reply, keeping her eyes on the warrior while he held his arms out, two children swinging off each arm, and she heard Mor’s exasperated huff as she retreated into the house.  He looked up to catch her watching and grinned, pure joy lighting his face, and she turned and walked into the entrance hall.  She could hear voices in the family room so headed quietly up the stairs to her room.  It had only been five days since Cassian found Willow and she unofficially moved in, but her room already felt vacant.  It even smelled different.  She sat on the bed for a minute savoring the silence before taking a deep breath and crossing to the armoire.  There was a specific dress she thought would work, perhaps a little plain compared to what the others would wear but something easy to walk in and nicer than what she usually wore.  Yanking the doors open, she stopped and stared.  A glorious dress in a blue so light it was almost white - like thick ice - hung there.  It was cut perfectly for dancing, though more daring than her usual choices, and small crystals lined the broad shoulder straps, the neckline, and the bottom of the flared skirt in a pattern that looked like mountains.  She stripped quickly and slipped it on.  The back was bare almost to the waist, the neckline deep and square, and the dress clung to her body until just below her hips, where it flared out to float above her knees.   In her mortal life, she never would have left the house in this dress, but here…  There was a gentle knock on her door and she opened it to reveal Nuala, who slipped in to arrange her hair.  When the wraith was done, Nesta dug through her armoire and pulled out the only pair of shoes that could possibly work with this dress, then left without a glance at the mirror.  

There were more voices in the family room, she realized as she walked slowly down the stairs.  She paused in the doorway and scanned the full room, cataloguing the occupants.  Rhys. Feyre. Elain.  Lucien.  Amren.  Mor.  Those two Illyrian females.  Her heart began to pound.  The shadowsinger.  Another male and female she didn’t recognize.  Before she could turn into the dining room instead, her sister spotted her.  “Nesta!” Feyre over, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her through the room to where she had been standing with Elain.  “That dress is incredible, where did you find it?”

“In my armoire.  I thought you got it for me.”

“No,” Feyre said, with a look over her shoulder, “Rhys’s dressmaker strikes again, I guess.”

The High Lord just grinned from where he stood by the bar.  Nesta scanned her sisters.  Both were also dressed to the nines, Feyre in a truly daring midnight blue dress, that lightened to the bluish-gray color of dawn at the hemline, Elain in a slightly more modestly-cut creamy concoction with red and orange flowers embroidered over the soft fabric of the full skirt.  More importantly, both were glowing with happiness.  Elain’s brown eyes were clear and calm, centered in a way she had never seen before, even in the mortal lands.

“Where have you been?” Feyre demanded.  Nesta retreated a little at her tone.  “I was starting to get worried!  Cassian said you were hanging out at his place, but for all I knew he had, I don’t know, murdered you and dumped your body in the Sidra.”

Lucien snorted from over Elain’s shoulder.  “Well, that got dark in a hurry,” he said drily, mouth quirked.  Feyre glared at him while Elain smiled.  “Come on, now, it’s a big leap from ‘he asked her to move in’ to ‘he dumped her body in the river.’” Feyre shot a fist of flame at him that he easily blocked while shielding his mate.  “Now play nice.  Let’s not ruin Mor’s birthday with a fire fight.”

“Seriously, though, did you move in with Cassian?”  She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her answer, and her skin started to crawl.  Ignoring her pulse beginning to race, the bile rising in her throat at the pressure from so many stares, she lifted her chin, willing the ice that had always saved her to sculpt her mask.  

“She adopted a kitten,” came that familiar rough voice.  Cassian stepped up behind her, not quite touching her, but his huge body blocked her from the view of everyone except her sisters and their mates.  Did he know?  She didn’t even care as long as she could breathe easily again.

“A kitten!” Feyre exclaimed, at the same time Elain cooed, “Oh, a kitten!  When can we meet him?”

“Her,” Cassian corrected automatically.  Nesta’s mouth twitched up involuntarily.

“Maybe next week I can bring her over.  We need to get her used to flying anyway.”

Feyre shook her head.  “I can’t picture how you ended up with a cat, but you’ll have to tell me on the way.  We should get moving.”

Indeed, everyone else was shuffling towards the door.  It was a warm evening, but Feyre draped a shawl over her shoulders so Nesta and Elain followed suit.  As they walked down the street in small groups, Nesta told her sisters how Cassian had found the kitten soaking in the storm the previous week and had brought her home, intending to find her somewhere else to live.  How she had decided that they were obligated to keep her, having saved her life, and how they now spent what seemed like all of their time figuring out what toys she liked best and laughing at her antics.  Elain chatted about the work she was doing with Azriel, trying to call in visions at will instead of them springing on her involuntarily.

“I keep getting this one of a glacier splitting apart, a huge chunk of ice falling into the sea, and a sense of something, some…creature springing free,” she said.  “We can’t figure out what it means.  He contacted Kallias to let him know, in case that means something to him, but he said it didn’t trigger anything concerning his Court.”  She shrugged.  “It’s probably nothing.”

“None of your other visions were nothing,” Nesta said, her voice a little sharp.  

Feyre nodded in agreement.  “Just because you don’t know what it is doesn’t mean it’s not important.  Maybe it’ll, I don’t know, expand?”

Elain just shrugged.

They reached the restaurant.  It was tiny, and Rhys had reserved the entire thing for this party.  The dark female who scurried over at their arrival greeted Rhys, Feyre, Mor, and Amren as old friends.  The food was brought over as they all took their seats, and pretty soon the restaurant was full of a pleasant cacophony of voices talking over one another, laughter, and clinking glasses.  Nesta let it all wash over her, not trying to follow the conversation as she savored the rich, complex food.  One set of dishes was cleared and another was brought as presents appeared on the table.  Mor gave a little squeal and started unwrapping immediately.  A set of novels by a favored author, a fancy wineglass set, a beautifully woven wrap that she immediately threw around her shoulders.  She plucked Nesta’s small box off the table and unwrapped it, then let it fall on the table, staring at it, stunned.  “By the Cauldron,” she whispered, “it’s beautiful.”  She swallowed hard.  “I’ve never seen anything like it.  Where did you find it?”

Nesta cleared her own throat.  “Just a jeweler.  Not far from here, actually.”  She didn’t mentioned that she’d commissioned it specifically, choosing the jewels to match the colors Mor usually favored.

Mor reverently lifted the necklace so everyone could see it, and there were gasps around the table.  It was a delicately woven web of yellow and white gold, narrow at the clasp but widening to about two inches where it would fall below her collarbones.  The widest point was set with tiny rubies and diamonds arranged like flames; the movement of the necklace made it look like the flames were flickering.  Mor vanished the pendant she had been wearing and Azriel stood to help put the new one on, then she dipped her chin at Nesta.  “Thank you.  I…Thank you.”  

Once again everyone was staring at her and she straightened herself as she drew slightly back into her chair, nodding and murmuring, “You’re welcome.”  Cassian leaned forward, calling for the next present to be opened while pouring himself another glass of wine, and as everyone’s attention turned back to Mor he reached down and squeezed her hand.  She brushed her knee against his thigh in response then withdrew her hand.  Presents were finished with and dessert had been served when Amren turned to her.  

“What have you been working on while I’ve been away?”  The tiny female’s silver eyes may have now been full Fae, but they were still shrewd as if she knew the answer already.

“Nothing.”

Amren snorted.  “Nothing?”

“I still can’t access any power.  I  can feel it there, but since that battle, since the Cauldron was reformed it’s…there’s something blocking it.”

Amren shook her head, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  She seemed about to reply when Mor stood up and announced,  “We’re all heading up to Rita’s for some dancing!”  Everyone stood and made their way to the door.  Amren and Sabine headed uptown, while the rest of them turned up the hill towards the lounge.  Mor, Cassian and Azriel were joking about something with the unfamiliar male, Lucien and Elain were meandering hand in hand, Rhys and Feyre were doing that silent communication thing that they thought nobody noticed, so Brisa and Nesta found themselves at the back of the pack.  Thankfully the Illyrian seemed no more inclined for casual conversation than she was.

Rita’s was packed as it always was.  Males and females, High Fae and other species, all dancing in a mob.  Cassian managed to find a booth that was empty (or he emptied one) and slid into it with Nesta, Brisa, Lucien, and Elain while the others all hit the dance floor.  Cassian took everyone’s drink order and went up to the bar.  Lucien tried to keep a conversation going, but it was almost impossible over the music.  Elain convinced Lucien to join her in the fray, and dragged him off just as Cassian returned.   Nesta sat with the two Illyrians watching the dancers, interrupted by the waiter coming over and distributing their drinks.  He eyed Nesta appreciatively, then blanched and scurried away when Cassian snarled.  She elbowed him.  “Don’t be an overbearing Illyrian bastard,” she snapped.  

He just looked at her, eyebrows raised.  “But that’s literally what I am.”

Brisa laughed, and Nesta’s eyes narrowed.  “Fair enough.  Don’t be an asshole.”

He shrugged and grinned.  “Wanna dance?”

“I already told you I wouldn’t.”

“I know, just figured I’d double check.”  They sat, sipping their drinks, watching the chaos around them.  His eyes kept straying to the his friends, she noticed.  Mor, Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre were dancing together, Elain and Lucien nearby.  

“You go ahead and join them,” she told him.  “I’m going to use the restroom.”  

“Do you want me to come too?” Brisa asked, but Nesta just shook her head.  

“No need, I’ll just be a minute.”

Cassian pointed her to the back corner and watched her edge around the dancing bodies to reach it.  She turned back just before entering to see him rise and cross to the others, wings tucked in tight, body moving instinctively with the beat as he avoided the dancers.  Brisa was still sitting in the booth, ankle on knee, foot twitching in time.

The restroom was surprisingly clean.  A cluster of females stood at the sinks, adjusting themselves in the mirrors.  She emerged from using the facilities as they finished their last tweaks and left, laughing at some private joke.  While she washed her hands another female appeared and joined her at the row of sinks, leaning over to check herself in the mirror before turning to Nesta.  

“You came here with Morrigan’s friends, didn’t you?” the female asked.  Nesta stiffened and nodded.  “Oh, I’m so jealous, I’ve always wanted to meet her.  I’ve heard she’s a regular but I’ve been coming almost every night for weeks and this is the first time I’ve seen her here.  You’re the High Lady’s sister, aren’t you?”  

“One of them.”

“Do you think you could introduce me?”

“To Feyre?”

“No,” she laughed,  “I mean, sure, the High Lady’s a legend, I’d love to meet her, but she’s also, like, obviously taken.  Do you think you could introduce me to Mor?”

Nesta’s voice was flat.  “No.”

The other female was taken aback.  “What do you mean, ‘no?’” she asked, a little aggressively.

“Mor is the friendliest person in the city.  You want to meet her, go introduce yourself.”  The female stared at her, green eyes narrowed, before flicking her dark hair over her shoulder and leaving.  Nesta followed more slowly, pausing on the edge of the floor.

Feyre and Rhys were still dancing together, oblivious to the crush of bodies around them.  Elain and her mate were doing the same, Lucien’s hands on her waist, her arms above her head, eyes closed as she swayed against him.  The other three were still dancing together, laughing, moving in synchrony without thought.  Five centuries, Nesta realized.  They had been doing this exact thing for five centuries - twenty times her own span of years.  Cassian’s face was open, relaxed, that little slight tension around the eyes that he always showed with her totally absent.  This wasn’t just friendship.  This was family, this was something she could never quite be a part of, something that had evolved through pain and trial and having each others’ backs again and again.  He wasn’t even looking for her, hadn’t even noticed she was still gone.  She started to edge around towards the door, needing to get out, away from the heat and the noise and the smell, but her progress was impeded by the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off of them.  Mor scooted out of the group for a second and reappeared with Brisa, who joined right in, that lithe dancer’s body finding the rhythm easily.    Cassian and Azriel shifted to include her, and at that Nesta pulled herself together and slipped through the door.  She stood just outside for a minute, gulping the fresh air, pushing against that feeling of…of loss.  She had been deluding herself, she realized.  For how could you lose something you never really had?

She gathered the shawl around her shoulders, grateful for it now that the night had cooled enough for the air to have a little bite, and headed down the hill.  After a couple of blocks she felt him behind her.  “You should have stayed with your friends,” she said.  

“I wanted to be with you.”

She shook her head, letting out a breath.  Suddenly wings wrapped around her, not touching her but blocking her path.  She stopped abruptly, Cassian so close behind her she could feel the heat emanating from him.  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“Did you know I’ve never lived with someone?” he said, his voice quiet.  “I mean, I’ve had roommates, shared living quarters with other warriors, but I’ve never asked a lover to stay with me.”  He laughed, a quiet huff of breath with little mirth.  “Hell, I usually couldn’t wait for them to leave.  My brothers have each lived with lovers, sometimes for decades.  Mor too, though not for as long.  But not me.  Five hundred years since the war ended, and not once have I wanted to share my life.  Until now.”

Nesta swallowed hard at the vulnerability in his voice.  “Feyre said…she told me you were Mor’s first.”

“Yes.”  There was so much pain in that word.

“She also told me why.  What you risked, for her.  What Rhys did afterward.”  He was silent.  “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Even though you two never…”

He put his hands on her arms and stepped closer behind her, her back brushing his chest.  She was totally enveloped by him, his heat, his scent, as he spoke low in her ear.  “What Mor and I did, it saved her from being sold into a lifetime of misery.  If it hadn’t been Eris, it would’ve been somebody else.  I will never regret being a part of that, though I do regret not being able to save her from her family afterwards.  But we were never meant to be together.  I’m not what she wants.”  An image of the girl in the bathroom rose to Nesta’s mind, unbidden.  “And she’s not what I want.  It’s been several centuries since she became nothing but a sister to me.”  She didn’t know what to say in response to this, whether to tell him that she remembered every cold look from Mor, every time he pulled away when his so-called sister approached.  So she said nothing, just stood there, encased in his wings, then his arms as he wrapped them around her.  “Should we go back to the dance?”

Her body locked up.  “I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, “not like that.”  She could dance a reel with the best of them, the impersonal precision of it, but what she had seen in that hall…

“I can teach you,” he murmured.  Then, “What is it about people looking at you that makes you so uncomfortable?”

How had he known what it was?  She wasn’t surprised he had noticed how she felt, he was uncommonly good at feeling changes in the tenor of emotions.  A talent that served him well when commanding legions.  But that he had pinpointed it so exactly…  “I don’t like being judged,” she whispered.

“But what if they’re not judging you?”  He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck.  “What if they’re noticing how beautiful you are?”

“It’s still a judgment.”  He pulled back just a little, not releasing her, but still putting distance between them.  She turned her head to look at him, unsure of what she would see on his face.  He was studying her, head cocked to the side, expression contemplative.

“I never thought of it that way.”

“No one ever does.”  

He smiled at that, not his usual cocky grin but the soft smile that he reserved for her, and kissed her temple.  “Come on.  Let me teach you to dance.”  He turned her to face him then slid one arm around her back and the other under her buttocks, lifting her to his chest, before sweeping back his wings and sending them skyward.  In just a few powerful beats they were on the roof at Rita’s.  The music was pounding out the open windows and doors and she could hear the movement of the people below her feet but they were alone up there.  He placed himself behind her, hands on her sides, and bent his head so his mouth was level with her ear.  “All music tells a story.  Sometimes, like that symphony last week, it’s such a good story that you need nothing else to feel what the composer is trying to say.  Other music relies on the people listening to complete it.”  She looked sideways at him in surprise; she had never pegged him for being so educated on the nuances of music.  It was so easy to underestimate him.  He went on, her look unnoticed or ignored.  “This type of music is meant to have a lot of people dancing to it, and that’s part of its story.  Close your eyes.”  When she had obeyed, he went on.  “Feel the beat.”  His fingers tapped lightly against her ribs, matching it exactly.  “Now, listen to the melody over the top of it.  What does it say to you?”  She opened her mouth to speak, but felt him shake his head.  “Don’t tell me, just…feel it.”  

At first, it sounded harsh, oppressive.  She felt pushed by it, wanted to push back, to resist.  Behind her, Cassian began moving, a little sway without moving his feet, the warrior’s body graceful despite his bulk.  He had told her once that fighting was just a dance with bloodshed.   She caught that thought, followed it, opening her mind to the story the music and the people below her were telling.  The song was one of loss and rediscovery, she realized.  Of losing your sense of self, and finding it again in the people around you.  A song of war and recovery.  She started to move, and it was easy.  Easy to surrender to the music, to the male behind her who felt her movement and matched it, then deftly took over, carrying her rhythm as their feet began to move.  He spun her to face him and she opened her eyes.  His hair was coming out of its tie, brushing against his cheekbone, and he held her gaze as he ran his hands down her body, over her hips, up her bare back, down her arms.  She didn’t know how long they danced, lost in the energy pulsing through them from below their feet.  Finally she was spent and panting, and he took her in his arms and they just swayed gently back and forth as he kissed her lips, her forehead, her temples, below her ear, down her neck.  He stilled them finally, closing his eyes, and just breathed in the scent of her, his lips resting at the junction of her neck and shoulder.  She was distantly aware that she was sweaty, that her hair had half come down and was sticking to her neck, that she should be stepping away, spooling herself back in but she just couldn’t.  Couldn’t even find the part of her that wanted to.  Without a word he swept her into his arms and vaulted into the sky, following the path of the river up the city, a dark ribbon between all the lights, drawing them towards home.

Bad Meets Evil ~ Void smut

Author: completedylantrash

Characters: reader x Void Stiles

Rating: NSFW 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT

Word Count: 3794

Synopsis: You are on a mission of sorts when you cross paths with Void Stiles

A/N: I’m sorry this is so full of smut I needed to do a Void smut. There’s some Latin in this, because I love me some google translate. If you’re like me and like to listen to music while reading, I highly suggest anything by Massive Attack, it just fits so well with this. Enjoy the trash ya heathens 

WARNING: This is the first time I’m putting a warning on my smut. This gets kind of intense. A little choking, definitely spanking, hair pulling, rough fingering and penetration. I’m sorry if I haven’t done the warnings quite right but if any of this makes you uncomfortable DON’T READ IT!



When vengeance takes over your life, it’s hard to think about much else. Most people my age would be having fun in their freshman year of college. Going to parties, dating, being your normal youth of today. But my life is not like the average nineteen or twenty year old. It never has been and somehow, I’m completely okay with that. Right now my focus is on one thing, well, one person. I came to Beacon Hills to kill Peter Hale, to make sure he suffers until his last dying breath. He has no idea. Why would he?

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Jerome request-

anonymous asked: Hi, i dont know if you take requests, but if you do; can you write a jerome x reader in which the reader gets really seriously hurt and jerome is scared?

“When will she be out?” Jerome sighed not looking at the man in front of him. Dr. Berry was nervous afraid Jerome was going to slit his throat, the only reason he hadn’t was because he was necessary in fixing  her. “We.. We don’t know right now” Jerome chuckled finally bringing his red rimmed eyes up. The Dr. Stared deep into them being hypnotized buy how green they had become. Y/N had been in a car accident in an effort to kill the both of them. Jerome came out fine but both the Doc and J knew Y/N may not be walking out of the hospital. Jerome tensed up not wanting to ask. “What…” He clenched up his fists “Condition is she in doc?” He smiled. The doctor backed up “She’s lost a lot of blood and remains in critical condition. I’m sorry” Jerome jumped up happily in the empty hospital. “No worries Doc” he slapped his shoulder winking. “There’s plenty more where that came from” The Doctor watched as Jerome left the hospital as if nothing had happened, completely flabbergasted. Ever since Jerome had his face reattached Y/N had been in every head line standing with her arm around Jerome, showing off her 1 million dollar smile. They were in every robbery, every performance act. Everything. It didn’t make sense for him to leave like that…. then again he was Jerome.. a murderous dickhead.

The doctor made his way to the hospital bed Y/N was laying in. She was attached to a bunch of I.v.’s, breathing shallowly. He gently dragged his fingers along her forehead. She was a very beautiful girl, pale, cool honey colored hair. He imagined she was what the angels his parents always told him about looked like. She was no angel; she had killed innocent people with out batting her cute green eyes then walked into the arms of someone she thought she loved, someone she thought loved her. He shook his head and walked out of the room,  it was silly for him to get caught up on her life she was going to be in the asylum as soon as she was able to walk then she wouldn’t be his problem. 

Jerome’s point of view

It felt wrong leaving without her pussy cat laugh going off as she clung to my side. I thought maybe if I left her there she would fade.. fade far away from my thoughts.. She didn’t though, she never does. I stepped outside of the hospital still wearing the dapper suit that had been trashed by our little car “accident” I chuckled pledging to seriously mane then kill  the pleasant young men who did this. I didn’t even know who the bastards were yet or what their grand motive was. All I really knew was Y/n was writhing, dying in pain her perfect mouth screaming until her last breathe was taken and I was here.. alone.. no accomplish, no one. Police sirens screamed in the distance most likely coming for me. It was quiet in Gotham the city of sin. How drab. Like the dull feeling that was pulling so hard in my chest. 

I didn’t look at her after the crash in.. fear?.. worry?.. me being a pussy? She was the most beautiful, breathtaking girl I had ever seen. We had grown up together- two flowers in a garden of weeds. Her having joined the circus at thirteen, abandoned by her parents she showed up by the ring leaders tent shivering, tattooed and bleeding. I popped my little innocent head out of my trailer hearing the authority of a police man’s voice and there she was. Long honey blonde hair dripping wet sticking to her neck and shoulder’s. I was in awe of her, just at thirteen she had managed to become the most perfect and interesting crouching in this world. My 13 year old legs pushed me to jump out of my trailer to get a closer look at her- so I did. My feet landed with a squish, splattering the muddy ground below. It was 11pm so I was able to creep around everyone’s trailers until I reached the lion tamers which was right in front of the ring leaders. 

Curiously I listened in on their conversation, keeping this new mysterious girls breathing and every sound she made first to be heard. “We found her in the water just off of the west shore floating and half dead. She told us her parents threw her in there.” The police man seemed to look down on her like she was a creature to be pitied, something she would grow out of quickly. Our ring leader Dwayne was not impressed keeping his arms tightly crossed around his fat body. “Why haven’t you taken her to the orphanage?” I remember feeling a horrible panicky feeling rising in my chest, the feeling now makes me laugh. Through my young head I was screaming “no” and “What if they take her?  they can’t! She’s my destiny!” silly things but serious at the time. 

The police man spoke softy stepping closer to Dwayne “They all keep rejecting her because of well… Show the nice man sweety” The police man spoke gently to the girl. As if rehearsed she held up her little arms showing the black ink mapping out designs of naked girls and vicious animals all around her arms and up onto her neck. Something in Dwayne changed. He stepped closer carefully grabbing her arms looking them over, she was a strong girl and didn’t flinch at his undeserving touch. Dwayne slowly nodded his head looking up at the cloudy dark skies, the only dark place left in the city. “She can stay. I understand” The cop smiled shaking his hand and talked over some of the legal troubles but I didn’t care it was my time to make an entrance. Clumsily I stomped out from the shadows sticking out my hand, a smile wide on my face. “Hey-ya I’m Jerome who are you?” 

“Jerome, not n-” Dwayne was interrupted by her soft voice. “I’m Y/N” Then before I knew it her soft hand was in mine.  

Having come out of my little day-dream my unconscious mind had lead my back into the hospital, standing at the door that led to where she was being treated.I put my hand on the door knob not knowing exactly what to do in this situation. “Can I go in or what!?” I yelled looking at the nurse behind me. Scared she nodded quickly. I opened the door but yelled out before totally disappearing. “Oh and don’t call the cops or I will eat your family alive” the nurse made a weird whimpering sound before I shut the door, locking it behind me.

 I took my dear time before letting myself look at her. My feet led me to the large windows where I looked over the trash-pit of Gotham. Lights screamed out from every direction like the sounds from the traffic below. Getting bored I walked over to some machinery hearing my shoes squeak on the ground. I began turning knobs. Suddenly a loud beeping sound came from the machine and I jumped back a little startled accidentally looking at her. Her arms were covered in long rashes completely ridding of some of the designs that were permanently on her. Which maybe she would be happy about. It was like erasing the horrible moments of abuse that led up the her father inking her- maybe she would be able to move on from it. I grunted shaking m head violently getting those mushy thoughts out of my head laughing at how oft I had become. “I don’t even like you bitch!” I yelled at her laughing loudly in her face. “So die! So I can finally rid of your whole entire existence! Oh how sweet that would be!” I smiled twirling to the other side of her bed “Die! Die! Die!” I chanted in her ear. I was pretty set on her being dead until the familiar smell of her hair caught my nose.

 I froze thinking of every night being tangled up with her, long strands of hair coming down and brushing up against my chest and face. Then she would lay completely on me and I would suffocate on that sweet, sweet smell. I shivered coming out of my head a straight beeping sound coming from the machine. I looked at it to see it was flashing a completely straight green line. She was dead, gone like I had pleaded with her to be a few moments prior. “Ah shit” I mumbled to myself taking out my gun. I kicked open the door putting on my usual smile and happy demeanor when honestly I was becoming a boiling pot of hot rage and regret wanting to cap every person my eyes could see. “Alright which one of you fine doctors will be fixing my lovely wife? Don’t say there no hope cause look at me” I made a circle around my face with the gun. “I came back from the dead. So get on it! or everyone in this very room will be blasted along with their wife and kids. Except for you..” I pointed at the same nurse as before “Your offer still remains the same” She shrunk a little gathering papers. 

Dr. Berry’s point of view

In three hours we had the girl back breathing. We shocked her and suddenly her body sprang up with a gasp. Her green eyes freakishly taking in the world around her but shorty feel back to healthy sleep. The rest of the nurses and doctors looked at Jerome who had the face of relief at the sight of her breathing body. His beady green eyes took in every part of her body seeming to relish in the fact she was breathing and alive once again. I thought to myself doubting my former judgement of him. Was it love? I chuckle a little at the thought, love? no infatuation? probably. “What’s so funny doc?” Jerome spoke coldly to me. Nervously I thought of something to say in hopes he would shoot me. “She’s alive” Jerome’s face seemed to soften, it was hardly noticeable but there all the same. “Yes she is” he drug his fingers a crossed her forehead the sensation waking her from her needed rest. “Where am I J?” She croaked. In an instant he was down by her side. “Don’t worry baby I’m going to get us out of here” he said while frenziedly petting her hair. She nodded slowly dozing off before conjuring up an answer. Jerome grabbed her face worried “Okay? you need to stay with me” Y/n nuzzled into his shoulder whispering “okay” putting the light back into Jerome’s eyes. “Don’t do that here” he stood up dusting off his tattered maroon suit. “I have a reputation to uphold.” The room seemed to grow darker and the little light the hospital lamps gave off seemed to diminish under his glare. 

“So which one you fine doctors will help Sleeping beauty and I out of here before they lock us away.”  All of my colleagues seemed to shrink back afraid to accept the consequences if they help them out of here. I stepped forward speaking calmly. “There’s a black nova in the staff parking lot that belonged to a deceased gentleman, the keys are in a brown paper bag in the center council. I will help you carry her out. Karen?” I turned to look at her. “Get me the stretcher from the other room” Nervously she skipped out of the room to retrieve it. When I turned around Jerome had stuck his gun in my face chuckling. “What kind of rouse it this? huh?” he began to make a choking sound amoungst his chuckling. I put my hands up wanting to slap the hunk of metal away from my face.“No tricks. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”  motioned towards Y/n watching his face soften “No we wouldn’t want that” his voice was gruff lowering his gun he stepped closer to her lowering his gun with his steps. Karen walked gently into the room handing me the stretcher. 

…..

I watched Jerome drive wildly away in the car, police sirens coming in the other direction. After we had gotten Y/n in the car he shook my hand informing me that if I ever, ever had the need to have someone killed he would do it for free, one time only. I nodded graciously thanking him. Months later I saw the two of them on the news, they had both been brought to Arkham for slaughtering a group of old people outside of a retirement home. The news showed the two of them being arrested. Y/n looked as beautiful as ever but had new tattoos made up of intricate flowers and guns as well as the Disney princess snow white for a reason that escaped me. Jerome looked stronger the stitching around his face healing but creating a clear line. They were being handcuffed and transported in different cop cars. Jerome looked angry looking frantically to Y/n then spitting at the cop that had his arms. Y/n screamed tears coming down her face. The news camera flashed back to Jerome from the damsel in distress who had both a his feet on the cop car door to stop the cops from throwing him in the car. This was shortly subdued when he was stabbed in the stomach by a black haired policeman knocking Jerome unconscious . This was followed by Y/n’s high pitched scream causing all the cameras to be shut off and the viewers attention was brought onto the charity ball going on that evening. 

Originally posted by kittycheshirestuff

Thanks for reading all. Jared Joker story called “white demon” will be out. Until next time Same bat-time Same bat-channel!

elle’s self rec list

So I figured out that with the billions of fic I have written for Kingsman I would do a little list of those that are dear to me and I think you should all read. (I could legit put everything on this list, but 138 completed fics is a bit much even for me)

Of Flowers, Thunderstorm and Tranquility - M, Hartwin, AU

The fresh snow crinkles satisfyingly under his feet as Harry slowly makes his rounds of his part of the Forest. He is seconds away from humming when a whimpering sound from a bush nearby gives him pause.

Harry carefully makes his way towards the sound, on his guard. He gasps in surprise when he parts the foliage. He doesn’t know what he expected, but one thing is certain, it wasn’t the unconscious Summer Child curled up around himself.

This is quite frankly the one I think of as my masterpiece. (though that will probably change when Red and I post the bang). It took me over a year to complete, but oh boy am I proud of the result.

I’m not calling you a ghost - G, Hartwin

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, before opening them again. Hun. Still there. He must be on the really good drugs.

In the chair besides his bed, Harry Hart is sitting reading what must be a report, a little frown that only accentuates the scar on the left side of his forehead.

Definitely my most popular fic. Way back in the beginning, before we knew we would get a sequel, when everyone was sure Harry Hart was dead for real and not coming back.

Before getting 101 dogs, you need at least 2 - G, Hartwin, 101 dalmatians au

JB loves his human, but he’s getting rather fed up with how Eggsy won’t even look at the nice gentleman he’s clearly interested in they keep seeing in the park.

He’s going to take the matters into his own paws.

Short and sweet and I am still amazed at how much people liked it :D

Merlin, dogsitter extraordinaire - G, Merlin-centric, background Hartwin and Percilot

All through his childhood, he has had dogs and he’s always enjoyed their company and unconditional love. Then he had left for college where he just hadn’t had enough space to keep one and after being recruited into Kingsman he had just been too busy to even think about welcoming one puppy into his life and training him or her accordingly.

You like Merlin? You like dogs? You like ocs? This one got it all

I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice - G, Hartwin

“What I don’t understand is why you thought it was necessary to make a montage of every time Galahad appears in someone else’s feed though.”

“No, what you watched is every time an agent looked at Galahad’s when the boy was looking at you.”

I wrote this based on a prompt I got, but damn I still adore the way I chose to write this.

A Boxful of Kittens - G, Merhartwin

While he’s taking a walk around the manor, after coming back from dealing with Valentine, Merlin finds four kittens and their mother.

After what he just lived through, he cannot bear living them outside to fend for themselves.

Kittens and out three favourite men… What more do you want?

Only a fool would deny love - G, Hartwin

A princess’ kiss might have been Eggsy’s highlight of that horrific day. Because seriously who can honestly say they’ve never dreamt about kissing a princess (or a prince, because Eggsy is many thing, but picky isn’t one of those)? Until he got back on the plane and finds out Harry’s back from the dead.

The first long fic I started writing in the fandom. I really love it even if it shows that this has been written 2 years ago and I have definitely improved since then

Messenger of War - T, Hartwin, AU

He shivers at the brief contact of a hand on his shoulder and he forces the ripple of familiarity back down, but something in Harry’s eyes before he turns back and leaves hints that he is not the only one feeling it.

I am still stupidly proud of this fic okay and I’ll forever will be.

Kisses Like a Thousand Snowflakes - G, Hartwin, Roxlin, Percilot

“I wanted to know… What’s Kingsman’s stance on Christmas’ decorations?”
It’s hard not answering to Eggsy’s enthusiasm with a grin of his own and he doesn’t really try.
“Well since the Angels Incident of ‘97, the Garlands Debacle of ‘02 and the Reindeers Nightmare of ‘09, the late Arthur had put a ban on all the stuff and confiscate it all.”

This Christmas, mistletoe is everywhere and nobody is safe.

Okay this is a christmas fic, but who cares? It’s also the ultimate fix-it where everyone is alive and nobody’s dead.

Baked Love - G, Hartwin, AU

There were no other customers, but he didn’t think he was wrong in assuming it had more to do with the hour, after lunch but before the afternoon rush, and the awful weather, than anything wrong with the shop. For one thing, the interior was decorated really simply, but with enough nice touches to make it feel cozy. For another, the smell permeating the air, a mix of baked goods and coffee, was quite mouth-watering. The gorgeous young man walking out of the backroom with a polite but genuine smile wasn’t a slight against the shop either.

Or in which Harry is really a tailor and Eggsy works in a bakery shop.

Food and pining is a think one of the best combination in the world.

A Summer’s Day - G, Pre-Hartwin

Harry doesn’t sigh when he notices the empty bench in the familiar corner of the park. He had not gone on a walk with the intention to come here, but since Mr. Pickle has died a month ago, his feet continuously lead him to what had been their usual spot to waste a lazy afternoon away.

In which Harry recites poetry to a pug in a park.

Because meet-cutes are the best

Kingsman’s Nursery - G, Gen, AU

It is by sheer luck that James witnesses Princess Tilde’s kidnapping.

He’s only walking in the area, minding his own business, when he notices the infamous criminal mastermind Valentine and his deadly bodyguard Gazelle forcing the princess into a car.

In which they are all children except for Chester and Valentine, but they’re all spies too (or princesses).

That one was just too fun to write and I think more people should read it

Room for Three (Not Only You and Me) - G, Merhartwin

The first time it happens Merlin honestly doesn’t know.
Though, in Merlin’s defense there is nothing indicating that this is any different than usual.

Wherein Merlin date-crashes Harry and Eggsy’s dates without realising it at first. Except, when Merlin tries to give them some space, they don’t seem to be happy about it.

This one will always have a special place in my heart because this is the one that made me meet Red. Also writing about oblivious Merlin was very fun xD

Stay (A)head of the Case - G, Roxlin, Pre-Hartwin, Sleepy Hollow AU

In the relative comfort of the carriage bringing him to Sleepy Hollow, Merlin scoffs as he revises the facts that are known about the case he’s being sent to investigate.

There are already three victims, the Heskeths, father and son, as well as a certain widow Winship, and the only suspect is a Headless Horseman? Who could ever believe such rubbish really? Whoever the true perpetrator of those murders is, they must be having a jolly time indeed.

In which Merlin is a constable from New York sent to Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders.

I just love what I did with this AU and seriously there isn’t enough Roxlin in the fandom

Come Sail Away (Into the Light of the Dark Black Night) - G, Hartwin, soulmate AU

Eggsy had always known his soulmate would be older than him.

Or no, that wasn’t entirely right. He might have been hearing his soulmate all his life, but it had been a while before anyone had explained to him what it really meant.

It’s a soulmate au, if you like those do you really need more? :D

Labyrinth of Love - T, Merhartwin, Labyrinth AU

It is not the first time that a mortal catches the fancy of the Goblin King, but it is the first time one catches the eyes of both Kings.

In which Merlin and Harry are co-rulers of the Goblin Kingdom and Eggsy makes what he thinks is an unfortunate wish.

Who doesn’t love the movie Labyrinth? Who doesn’t want to imagine Merlin and Harry as the Goblin Kings?

From your hearts, I make a home - T, Hartwinrox

Since he’s started living on his own, Harry has always done everything so that the house he goes back to feels like a home. Sometime it was all that kept him sane while he dealt with whatever trauma that came with being a Knight.

And sure, nowadays he doesn’t see much field work, but the rituals have stayed and being able to offer that sense of home to not one amazing being but two? It is priceless.

Because domestic fluff and Harry/Roxy/Eggsy is always a must

I Get a Little Bit… - G, Merlahad, Ghenghis Khan AU

Merlin is putting his two children to bed when his phone starts ringing with a too familiar alert. He curses under his breath, thankful that Roxy is already fast asleep and won’t reprimand him on his language.

It’s the Genghis Khan Merlahad au everyone wanted but nobody was writing really.

Love is a fabric which never fades - G, Hartwin, Dragon AU

When Harry started his hoard of clothing, it has come as to no surprise to either him or his parents. After all, he has been drawn to fabrics and texture and colors for as long as he can remember; one of his earliest memory the soft cashmere of his father’s brown sweater and the rough red scales of his mother’s skin.

Harry has been courting Eggsy dragon style for a while now without telling him because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot who doesn’t believe he can be loved. Luckily for them, Eggsy is no such idiot.

Quite honestly, I am very surprised by how much people seem to enjoy this??? Like sure it’s dragons, but I never would have expected the kind of response I got :O

Fairy Tale Ending - G, Mercival, werewolf AU

If it had been anyone else, if he had been stranded in the woods with, let’s say, Lancelot instead, he would have believed the words to be a very ill-timed joke.

But this was Merlin, Merlin whom he trusts with his life.

And Merlin’s a werewolf.

It’s a werewolf au. Need I say more?

Warm and safe, like a home - G, Merwin

It starts simple enough, with Eggsy bringing Merlin a cup of tea.

But before it can become anything more, Harry comes back from the dead and Eggsy realises he never truly had a chance.

Pining and misunderstandings but with a happy ending. I am sure I can’t be the only one who loves that

2

A/N: This is the kind of stuff I came up with at the pool in Croatia. I can’t really tell if that’s a good thing or just really, really bad. Anyway, I hope it’s kinda enjoyable to read!

Words: 1683
Warnings: oral sex, swear words

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Hobgoblin (AD&D)

Hobgoblins! Like goblins, only…hobbier?
Or rather, they’re bigger and stronger and…more orange than regular goblins. And I hear they’re highly militarized in structure.
But only the parts of the military that make them more evil.
Let’s take a gander, then!

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Half Bitten: Part 2

Prologue  Part 1


Scenario: A vampire!Jimin AU

A/N: I thought long and hard about how I wanted this storyline to go. I could keep it basic or actually attempt a decent plotline with it. I thought about it so hard I ended up dreaming about freaking vampire Jimin, and from that this idea was created. I hope to keep it suspenseful and interesting. I hope you all enjoy. Much Love, Jenn @blue1928

Genre: Jimin x Reader

Words: 2571

Disclaimer: As always, the gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!!

It felt like the Mojave had taken up residence in your mouth. You were on your third glass of water, eyes peeking over the edge of the glass at Jimin’s position. It had been his request that you go to the diner down the block. There wasn’t much you could do in the way of arguing with him. I mean how could you argue with a…

No. You still hadn’t been able to acknowledge the possibility. It seemed so ludicrous. Mythical creatures were meant to be fairy tales, some little nightmares that you told over campfires. You were tempted to ask him if he was real if that meant the boogeyman was real too. You didn’t though. You could only handle so many traumatizing truths at a time.

You set down the glass and tucked your hands between your legs. Your gaze landing on him and skittering away until you noticed a smirk creeping back on his face.

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What Are the Chances

You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Hey! Love your blog so much! It’s absolutely amazing. I was wondering if you’d be able to do something where the reader was the younger sibling of Negan’s late wife? And they got split up. When Negan captures Rick and the group he sees the reader again? Thank you so much! – Via @papa-maddox

Ships: None
Words: 1,126
Warnings: Curses
Category: Reunion

***

You were knelt on the forest floor, the smell of rotting and damp leaf’s all around you. As always you could still taste the rot on the air, usually this would make you gag but after having to endure the smell for years the stench seemed to resonate with you, reminding you that you were never safe. That held true for your current situation.

You were in a line with the rest of your group, beside you sat Rick who was shaking. You knew why, Maggie needed to get to Doctor Carson at the hilltop for there was a possibility that something bad had happened to her unborn child.

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*Scenario*

Genji/McCree with an S/O with absolutely downright terrible insomnia? How would they go about helping their S/O?

Heya!! I’m alive again everyone, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with my schedule again now that finals have finally ended and I survived. I actually loved this prompt because while I don’t have insomnia, I usually end up staying up very late because I’m too anxious too fall asleep. Turns out all I needed to do was get off my butt and make some tea to chill out, but insomnia obviously isn’t that easy.

Hope you enjoy these scenarios my friend! And I also hope the s/o likes tea, because that’s what I’m making them drink ahaaa <3

*If I get anything about the prompt incorrect or you find that it wasn’t what you were looking for, then please let me know and I’ll try my best to fix any mistakes in writing! 

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surprise (an antoine griezmann imagine)

Originally posted by sashosasho

You’ve always been a terrible liar.

You could never get away with lying to teachers about homework, or come up with white lies on the spot to get you out of sticky situations. More importantly, you couldn’t lie to Antoine about your plans for his birthday.

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About Magnus and Camille’s relationship

I like analyzing aspects so while we wait for the Shadowhunters TV Show to comeback I started writing things while rereading the books and rewatching the show. I’m sorry for the mistakes and the length (it’s REALLY long). If anyone is even interested to know more about things in general, I could go on and write about other aspects. If not, well, it will stay a one time thing.
Thanks to the @reivenesque, @sfjessii, @alyxhavok and my wuv (<3) for reading it and for the support!



I never particularly liked Camille, mainly for her superficiality and lack of concern for the ones who love her or are devoted to her. The fact that Magnus “falls in love” with her is not dictated by her personality, but it is more about the fact that she’s a vampire (hence immortal), fun to be with, and beautiful. Their relationship is not a healthy one by the end of it all, and I’m really proud of how Magnus handled it.
Let me explain.


Quotes from:

“The Clockword Prince” (second book of the “Infernal Devices” trilogy)
“The Fall of the Hotel Dumort” (in “The Bane Chronicles”, 7th story)
Shadowhunters TV Show - Season 1, Episode 13 “Morning Star”
Shadowhunters TV Show - Season 2, Episode 4 “Day of Wrath”


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Lucifer 2x16


After the gifs I go on a lengthy speculation post… You have been warned!

This is perhaps the most iconic moment of 2x16. As you already know each episode has a particular scene where a song plays and it just works with everything. That scene, the episode, the series and it often gives you some hints on what is about to come. Ready for this? 

The song is Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam - In a Black Out which by itself is a spoiler but let’s get it a bit further first. The album in which this song is included is called “I had a dream that you were mine”. How perfect is that? I mean seriously now you get it right? I know I read to much on this but let me have it. 

Now the lyrics featured in that scene are: 

I live in a nameless town
In a black out
Many friends have said goodbye
Paraded out in one proud line
I say they all just lost their minds
Midnight where we used to dance
Underneath the ugly halogen lamps
Oh, it all went away so fast
In a black out

And here comes my absurd speculation and correlation to the past, present and future episodes of Lucifer up to perhaps 2x18. 

I live in a nameless town

This by itself is nothing really. But I have some suspicions which I’m not comfortable with sharing yet. Soon though…

In a Black Out

See the last lyric interpretation for this. 

Many friends have said goodbye

From what I’ve seen Mr and Mrs Smith, perhaps the first episode of season 3, does not credit two names. Mum and Trixie. As some spoilers go we will have a death at the end of season 2. Personally, I bet that Mum will have to go away or worse. Yet this lyric hints on something else as well. Many believed that Maze would get a “husband” in season 3 and missed the most obvious spoiler. The movie Mr and Mrs Smith. I hate to break it to you but Mr Smith is actually Lucifer in this case. Maze is pissed. 

In 2x16 Lucifer says to Chloe that Maze will find her place and what is the worst that could happen until then? Ella on cue replies, Murder. Yeah right… I’m sorry again but this reminded me a lot of 2x12 and how Lucifer had exclaimed his love for a movie called “To Love is to Die”. We all know what happened in 2x13. 
Lucifer and Maze will have a major fall out which we already know that and she will not find her place until she confronts Lucifer.  So as spoilers say in order to find herself she believes she has to go against Lucifer which ends up in a bloodbath (See picture underneath, I have plenty of those by the way.). 

Paraded out in one proud line

We have seen many characters over the past episodes and the thing is that they all had a magnificent exit. Uriel, for example, had an impact on the show which I believe that writers will attempt to recreate in the next episodes. We know that a new adversary is coming according to Tom Ellis’ interview a few days ago. We don’t know who but things will turn out to be awfully surprising for us. Please do not hold any drinks, sharp or heavy objects when you will watch 2x18. Remotes included. 

Now the thing is that we have one more piece of the sword missing… which according to the press release will come to light when its final owner is murdered. So I would go as far as say that see how the pieces of the blade paraded in Lucifer in Season 2? Uriel, “Dad” and now a third one. A very dead one…

I say they all just lost their minds

We get almost none Deckerstar moments in 2x16. For Chloe Lucifer has gone from quirky to insane and that crazy gleam in his eyes while talking about “Dad” didn’t help. She practically told him that his stay after all at the hospital could help him and he should do the most of his visit there. 

In 2x16 Chloe comes in terms… No, is faced with what she “knew” all along. Lucifer has a lot of issues and although we see her wavering more than once, she always seeks to help him out. She asks help from his doctor (who ends up flirting with her) in a manner which has the doctor assume they are a couple or even engaged. She calls Linda to check on Lucifer and at the end of the day despite the absurdity of his sayings she inquires Ella about Santa. At the end of the episode, she doesn’t touch him when she asks him if he is okay but she unties him. According to my theory - that Lucifer’s vulnerability is intensifying not by Chloe’s proximity but by her feelings for him - I was worried a bit in the end. You see I didn’t like how lucid he becomes suddenly when he replied to Chloe that “Honestly, he never felt better”.  I keep wondering if she backed away on her feelings there. She still loves him but more doubts have made their way through… I hope that 2x17 will be better. That Chloe perhaps will show that she is still committed to her feelings if not to Lucifer or a future with him at the moment. 

Finally, let’s remember what the doctor says to Chloe which seems to affect her for a second. “I try to see beneath the DHM, that each one of them is a person.” Lucifer whether sane or not. Challenged or not. An ass or not is a person. And not just any kind of person. He is hers in a way. 

Midnight where we used to dance

If you haven’t watched 2x16 this will not ring a bell. “Dad” - who I believe had semi-possed the guy with the help of the piece - says at Lucifer that he still remembers when He met Mum. It was darkness and there she appeared and then they lighted up the universe. In 2x16 Mum and “Dad” have a dance and Lucifer tries to reenact their first date. Deep down Lucifer still wants to believe in love. He is like any other cynical man who was a kid that experienced a bad parental relationship or a divorce. Watching his parents has him all fuzzy and vulnerable. In a way, he wants to believe that Happily Ever Afters might be possible after all. Also somewhere deep down he wants to believe that he might be able to have Chloe by his side again (Hint the album’s title). 

Finally, Lucifer gets his “Dad’s” words a little but differently. Chloe did bring a light in his life. He can relate to that feeling but he is so into his scheme of bringing Mum down that he has no time to think about what he strongly believes was but a mirage. A divine finger poking Chloe’s feelings towards him. And so… his revenge changes and at some point wants his parents to get together only to start bickering again and make them feel what that loss of the one you love is all about *again*

Underneath the ugly halogen lamps

All I can say about this is that a light is not always a light! Do you get this? ;) 

Oh, it all went away so fast
In a black out

Spoilers are a bad omen here. I think that S2 will end as they have said at a cliffhanger and yes with a sudden black screen. Ellis said that Lucifer did not escape his form as he believed. Many assume it’s the wings that will make a reappearance. Although that would certainly be a hilarious moment and that I would be right about something of Lucifer’s Dad actually to have been in “God” Johnson, I have another theory. I believe that Lucifer may have to deal with his Devilish form. Not as popular or probable but I love that one. Imagine if Lucifer gets stuck in his other form. Anyway.. the problem still remains. If we notice the writers room tweet in which the last emoticons which describe the finale are earth and then boom-explosion… Well if that’s not a “Oh, it all went away so fast in a black out”, I have no idea what is.

The End

So that’s it…
Until next time :) 

sunkingdoms-deactivated20170403  asked:

omg i don't really have a specific prompt but could you write a fic about anything season 4 bellarke related?? really whatever you feel like writing i trust you

omg i’m so flattered you trust me but IDK IF YOU SHOULD??? okay here you go, babes.

darkness brings evil things, oh, the reckoning begins

(AO3)

Fandom: The 100
Pairing: Bellarke
Rating: T (for violent thoughts???)
Words: 1,480

Maybe it seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to what Octavia is doing, but there is. The rhyme is this: slash the throats, slice the veins, stab the hearts of those who do the same. Here’s the reason: Lincoln.

Octavia doesn’t particularly care why Echo approached her after A.L.I.E. was defeated.

To eliminate the leaders of the Thirteen Clans and help King Roan rise to power, Heda once and for all.

Whatever.

To kill Wanheda, take her power, use it to annihilate them.

Again, Octavia could not care less.

Still, she agrees to Echo’s proposition.

Wiping out your competitors, taking power, putting people in charge – it’s all politics. Possibly, if things were different, Octavia would have a vested interest in the state of the grounders and her people. As it is, she’s interested in one thing only: bringing vengeance upon anyone responsible, directly or indirectly, for the death of Lincoln.

The death of her soul.

And as far as Octavia is concerned, anyone in a seat of power held Pike’s hand and pulled the trigger with him. Now, thanks to Echo, she has a veiled excuse to kill them.

If Clarke Griffin happens to be one of the people she’s been contracted to murder, well. That’s tough.

Keep reading

RP connections thingy

Full Name: Sasha Elizabeth Rochester
Race: Midlander Hyur
Sex: Female
Occupation: Scholar, Researcher, Alchemist, Independent Mage.

Personality type (laid back, militant, high strung, etc):

quipped with smooth words, a disarming smile, and a keen eye for what she can use to her benefit, she sees the world as her playground for lies and deception. Her demeanor is pleasant and charming, always keeping a friendly though somewhat distant disposition. Seductive, provocative and perhaps a little cheeky, she takes pleasure from keeping others off-balance.

To those she can benefit from, this mask will be kept almost permanently plastered on her face, always willing to please and seduce. Analytical to the core, she will inspect and morph into what she believes others expect her to be, from the foolish, harmless damsel in distress, to the cunning archmage. Give her a stage she desires and she will put on a show. To her, all truths are malleable and easily bent, words are nothing but child’s play. People she considers fools or threatening will see another side of her, however. And they will soon discover that the coy smile bears sharp teeth and a sharper tongue. While she doesn’t seek to harm, her patience is often limited towards those she deems incompetent, and her sweet words will turn into bitter sarcasm and condescending arrogance.

Due to a distaste towards violence, she has a strong inclination towards battles of wit when facing conflict. Sasha also implements under-handed tactics, and more than anything, persuasion. She sees fists and blades as the arms of savages, and will frown upon those who see them as their first resort.

Despite her seemingly refined demeanor, she can be quite reckless and childish in her pursuit of magical power, having an absolute fascination for aetherial phenomena. She doesn’t care that aether harms her. So long as she can feel the rush of magic surging through her veins, she will always be motivated to look for more. Due to her aetherial sensitivity, her obsession with magic has proven many times to be highly detrimental to her condition. She stubbornly insists on continuing to push herself further and further, caring not for the consequences.

Manipulative, self-destructive, scheming, secretive, and distrustful, it’s easy to portray her under a negative light when people discover that part of her nature, but in her eyes, her tactics are nothing but a shell that protects her from a harsh, ruthless world. With few enemies and even fewer friends, she feels deep affection and loyalty towards those who choose to stand by her side, even after witnessing the best and worst of her.

What does your character look like?:

Face
Sasha has a very pale, clear complexion. She has a white birth mark on her left cheekbone, but no blemishes besides that. In a way, she looks like a porcelain doll. Her eyes are large, framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour-wise, they are what one would call a ‘forest green’, Green with a yellower undertone than blue. Her features could be described as delicate and femenine, with a thin nose, rounded, high cheekbones, and plump lips. Her face is relatively long, with a small chin and jaw. I would say her face is heart-shaped, and yes, her hairline does have a small widow’s peak. 

Body
Her body, much like her face, is diligently cared for. Her waistline would be like the classical femenine hourglass. She’s considered somewhat busty, but not as much as some of her friends. Her hips are proportional to this. She’s fairly slender, but lacks any good muscle definition save for her lower torso and legs. Her arms are likely a lost cause. I’d say her frame is medium to small. She also has the ‘dimples of venus’ on her lower back. 

Favorite hobby:

  • Magic 
  • Alchemy
  • Reading
  • Forming Connections

Motto they live by:

“ Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.”

Favorite type of environment:

She is very fond of the night–Particularily near the sea or the ocean. She also enjoys places that she considers lively bastions of civilization, like Ul’dah. Otherwise, give her a warm, starry night, a candle, and some books. 

Friends/Allies:

(I can’t write down all her connections because I will murder my fingers that way. I will name her closest allies, or those she has had for the longest time. Excluding X’elo from this one)

Edda Eglatine (@lodsamone) Edda is someone she finds deightfully entertaining and disarming, despite the fact Edda herself is played as a very awkward, uptight character. Sasha sees a kindred spirit in what she could have been, and seeks to break Edda’s uptight and timid exterior. 
Lorentz Rivers (@andarion) He put up with so much of her shit and still protects her. He also isn’t scared to knock her out when she’s being irrational or violent. I guess he’s O.K. OOC, kind of a loser nerd. 
Issabel Drake (@twelvesavethequeen) There’s a friendly competition between both of them. Sasha genuinely find her company charming and enjoyable, albeit vexxing at times. There are too many things they share in common for her not to constantly compare herself to Issabel. 
Gogonji Gegenji (@gegenji) She cares about this man as much as she admires him. In a way, she sees Gogonji as a mentor. She values his counsel and input more than any other of her allies or friends. 
Miziutte Zuiremand (@themizyin) Though their interactions are limited, she genuinely cares about Miziutte and truly wants to establish a healthy, lasting friendship with her. In a way, despite their different backgrounds, she sees a kindred spirit in academic pursuit. 

Who they admire:

Her grandmother (Caroline Chamberlain), though she admittedly does it because she idolizes her. Sasha admires Caroline as much as she fears and distrusts her. Their relationship is somewhat toxic and abusive, as they both idealize each other to the point of an unhealthy obsession to meet each other’s expectations.

What do they hope to do 10 years from now?:

Take over the world and let there be a dominion of the uncontrollable power of aeth–Okay, no. Just kidding. She hopes to become a renowned and respected archmage and scholar. Her ultimate goal is to be the kind of mage people write legends about, to her, that’s the only way she can truly honor her bloodline. She hates the fact her ancestors are so much greater than her, so she truly hopes she one day will surpass them.

Are they single? If not, who is their spouse/partner/life mate?:

 Happily married to X’elo Maimhov.

What do they look for in friends?:

People she can use. No, seriously. People she can use. 

If they walked into a bar and saw a talking slug, what would their reaction be?:

Be disgusted and fascinated. Would likely observe it for quite a long time. If the talking slug was somewhat intelligent, she may try to carry a conversation, but again, she may be utterly repulsed by the idea.

OOC:

Usual Playtime: 6-7 p.m. EST

Server: Balmung

FC/Guild: <<Thorn>>

Looking for (friends, ships, hate ships, shady connections, etc.):

EVERYTHING. All of it. You want to stab her? Go ahead. 

RP Hooks:

If you’re from Sharlayan:
Sasha’s grandmother, Caroline Chamberlain, is a well-known professor and scholar who is native to Sharlayan. She doesn’t travel outside the city state much, but she certainly has a lot of connections within. It’s not difficult for me to set something up from this angle.

If you’re from Ul’dah: She does not have a terribly good reputation, but hey! She’s known for being rich! And manipulative. And dishonest. Also, people die around her a lot, especially people who are inconvenient to her. But hey! Money! Also she spends like 90% of her time in Ul’dah. 

If you’re in The Shroud: She travels to the Shroud a lot, mainly for research and alchemical ingredients. Usually goes with a bodyguard, but may go alone if she’s in a bad/incompetent mood. Aether there fucks her up.

If you’re a Mage in any city-state: Sasha loooooves fellow mages. She has a record of academic excellence and is seen as competent in most, if not all forms of magic available to the Eorzean general public. Any magic is a common ground for her.

If you have connections to the Ul’dahn or Lominsan criminal underground: Sasha’s former husband, Stefan Delumiere, used to have a big influence on the criminal underworld up until he dissappeared. He mainly dealt with the black market for “alternative medicine” (If you know what I mean). He was also known as a lying, scheming, criminal piece of shit. A complete con-man. The chances of him marrying her for the money are high.

If your character is a Noble of any sorts (or stupidly rich): Sasha is a very socially aware character, so if your character comes from a wealthy family like her own, chances are, she has heard about them. There’s also a high possibility that there are pre-existing relations between her family and your character’s own. This can be settled OOC. 

If you’re an Alchemist: She is often found in the Alchemist’s guild, but if not, she is more than open to people who share her love for Alchemy.

If you’re a scholar: Same as Alchemist. She appreciates people she can have a common ground with. 

Sasha should be back in the RP Scene next month, after a 6 month hiatus to Sharlayan. 

This is angsty af but hopefully cuter by the end! Enjoy!

Also have requests about Feysand getting drunk and having a fight if you would like)

***

Feyre hadn’t felt this powerless since she was a human, broken and dying in front of Amarantha.

At the time, she never could’ve predicted that there would be a more dangerous threat than the red-headed fae who tortured and maimed for fun. But there was. The king of Hybern was unpredictable and lethal at best, let alone what he was like at his worst.

Feyre now knew that she had underestimated him, underestimated his influence over the Spring Court.

“Do you really love him?” Lucien’s voice cut through the silence and darkness. Feyre could barely see him, even with her heightened fae senses, but she knew that he was also chained in the green adamant that severed her from her magic.

“Are you talking about Rhys or Tamlin?”

He scoffed in reply and the tension in him was palpable from where Feyre was chained to the floor in the opposite corner of the room.

“I meant Tamlin, but I guess answering about one answers for another,” Lucien gritted through his teeth.

Feyre could hear in his voice that he was trying not to cry, was trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to wreck his body.

“I loved Tamlin so much that I was willing to destroy myself for him, before and after being Made. But we broke Lucien. Our relationship was as splintered as my human body was and after I healed… he wasn’t what I wanted or needed anymore, and I couldn’t be that for him either. I don’t think anyone in the Spring Court ever truly realised how locking me in this house would impact on me. I already felt like I was trapped in a cage, and when the moment came that I actually was? Thank the mother that Rhys saved me, Lucien. Because I have no doubt that I would have obliterated myself and everything in my path to get out again.” Feyre paused, considering how to put her next words. “I’m… I’m sorry that he died, Lucien.”

At that, at the reminder of his High Lord and best friend’s death, Lucien could no longer hold in his sobs.

Everyone thought he was so horrible,” Lucien managed to say, “but he was trying Feyre and I swear to you the man he was before we went Under the Mountain didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be flayed like an animal. Did you know he always gave me the choice about whether I went to the Autumn Court or not? Even though I was his emissary, I was never forced. You told me once how noble it was of Rhysand to let his cousin murder her family if she pleased because of what they did to her, but sometimes the brave thing is letting them live. If all my brothers died I would be heir to the Autumn Court, and both Tam and I knew that if I was I would be stuck there forever. He changed after the curse, but he was still my friend. And he changed again after being Under the Mountain, but he was still my friend.”

“Please stop crying,” Feyre begged. Lucien’s confessions only made her cry herself, cry because of the pain her friend felt, and because of the man who would never have a chance to redeem himself.

“I’m sorry for what he did to you, Feyre. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t help you and I’m sorry I let him make that cauldron damned deal with that monster. I’m sorry that you found something to live for and we took you from it.”

Feyre wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could protect her from the reality of the situation that they were in.

“I forgive you, Lucien. No matter what we’ve been through, you are my friend, and after all this is over you will have a place in my Court.” Feyre said with as much conviction as she could muster.

Lucien grunted in response.

They both knew that it was unlikely they would ever see the light of another day.

_____

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!” The High Lord of the Night Court screeched.

He stood in front of the members of his inner circle, two of which had been in the Spring Court when the king of Hybern branded Feyre and Lucien traitors and sentenced them to execution, but not before torturing and killing Tamlin to show that he was by no means bluffing.

“Something must have happened- she must have slipped up somehow. We knew that this was going to happen eventually, Rhys, now we just need to plan how to save her. We have the time and we the have resources.” Cassian said using the same voice he used to command Rhys’s armies. It was authoritative, commanding, and had led Rhys to victory countless times. Now was different though, Rhys couldn’t think straight.

His talons had fully extended on both his hands and feet, and he knew that his skin was changing to the purplish black of his other form.

Rhys knew that if he looked in the mirror he wouldn’t have whites in his eyes, or a pupil. He would just have the strange purple of his iris.

“Do you know where she’s being kept, Azriel?” Rhys asked.

The use of his full name was a blow that Az wasn’t expecting.

He and Mor had been at the Spring Court when Feyre had been dragged away kicking and screaming, but there was nothing they could do. Mor had them glamoured, and any reaction besides nonchalance would have garnered attention that would have put both them and Feyre in jeopardy. They were there on specific orders: do not draw attention to yourselves, do not speak to anyone unless necessary and do not approach Feyre. This was an unusual task for the soul reason that usually Az could’ve gotten the information he needed from his spies.

They should have known that something would go seriously wrong when all of Azriel’s spies turned up dead.

“Yes, Rhys. She and Lucien are being kept in the dungeons below the mansion. We’ve already established the rotation of the guard and that the king has left and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, when we presume he will execute them.”

“Then we don’t waste any time. Cassian,” Rhys turned to his still healing General, “make a plan, we’ll enact it in an hour. Don’t waste time, use as many resources as you need- armies, spies, I don’t care. Just find me a way to bring her home.”

“Of course, Rhys.” It was clear that Cassian, along with everyone else, was devastated about Feyre’s fate, and would do anything to save her.

Rhys turned to leave- he needed to find a way to control his shifting, but was interrupted by his Second.

“We have another thing to think about.” Amren’s eyebrows were raised in question. “What are we to do about Lucien? Rescuing just Feyre would make the mission easier, but you need to consider the repercussions of his death.”

Rhys groaned in frustration. He hadn’t thought of Lucien, hadn’t even considered saving him, but Amren was right.

Saving Feyre would make this monumentally easier, but if Lucien died…

Feyre would never forgive herself, and not only that but Rhys had to think of Elain as well. Lucien was undoubtedly her mate, and even though they had met only once, his death would ruin her.

“Save him,” Rhys ordered, “but if it comes to a choice between saving his life and Feyre’s, you know what to do.”

Amren nodded and Rhys left the room.

_____

It had been four and a half hours since the meeting, and Cassian had yet to think of a solid plan to save Feyre. They basically had two options.

Firstly, they could hit with an aerial force and try to forcefully get her out. This could lead to riots and a premature war.

Secondly, they could go in with a special team and try to subtly take her away without raising much alarm.

Rhys had another idea though, one he knew Cassian would never approve of and one he was going to do anyway.

______

Feyre was freezing. It was so cold in the room that she could see her own breath when she breathed and goosebumps covered her skin.

She was tired, and drained, and the cauldron damned chains that bound her cut off her connection to Rhys.

All she wanted was so talk to him once more, just once. So that she could tell him all the things that she needed to, like the indescribable way she loved him, and how she knows that he’ll win this war and hopes he finds happiness. She wants to tell him not to give up, even if she can no longer be there to guide him, that she wished she could’ve kissed him just once more and lastly, she wants him to love again.

“I’m glad we’re not alone,” Feyre whispered to Lucien. She didn’t know if he was conscious, but she said it anyway.

“It was an honour to know you, Feyre.” He murmured in return.

Feyre couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes.

She could hear the footsteps of the fae that was here to talk Lucien and her to their fates, and wished she could’ve had more time.

The footsteps were hurried and urgent. Whatever questions Feyre had about the kind of torture the king of Hybern would inflict upon her and Lucien was soon to be answered.

The door opened, flooding the room with light and to both her and Lucien’s surprise, the latter of which blanched away from the figure at the door, Rhysand appeared.

“Feyre,” He breathed.

He strode into the room and fell to his knees in front of his mate. Using his talons, he slashed through her chains.

Feyre let out a heart wrenching sob, wrapping her arms around Rhys as soon as she was free.

Rhys,” She cried.

He pushed her to arms length and quickly flickered his eyes up and down her body to see if she was critically injured in any way.

“We need to go. Now.” He stepped up and holding her hands helped her up too.

Buzzing with nervous energy and anxiety, Rhys stepped towards Lucien.

Lucien, expecting a death blow, flinched in surprise when Rhysand’s talons, rather than slitting his throat, started to break his chains as well. Lucien didn’t comment, he didn’t want to let a good opportunity go to waste.

When they were broken and Lucien was able to stand and move again, Rhys pinned him to the wall with a hand around his throat.

Lucien let out a chocked sound, hands clawing at Rhys’s, trying to get them away.

“Rhys!”

“Hush, Feyre darling. This will only take a second.” Rhys leaned close to Lucien’s face, trying (and succeeding) to be as threatening as possible. “I have no doubt my mate has offered you a place in our Court, and you are welcome to accept it, little Lucien. You will have a home, you will have a family, and probably what is most important, you will have Elain if she wishes. But know now, if you betray our Court I will slit your throat and make what that dick king do to Tamlin look like a mercy killing. Do you understand?”

Lucien searched for any clues of deception on Rhys face, and deciding that for now he could be trusted nodded as much as he could with Rhys hand still squeezing his neck.

Rhys immediately released him, but not before thundering steps could be heard storming down the steps that led to the dungeon.

“Ah it seems it’s time for us to leave.” Rhysand gripped Lucien’s elbow in one hand, and wrapped his arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. Grinning at Lucien, he said, “Let me show you how a real man can winnow,” and they became darkness and smoke.

______

Cassian was fuming at the actions of his brother.

Not only did he leave to save Feyre without consulting him, he didn’t tell anyone he was pissing off. It wasn’t until Azriel’s shadows whispered to him that the Spring Court mansion was on fire and the flames had been started after 12 Hybern sentires had been cruxified and set alight, while they were still alive, that they all realised Rhys had gone to save his wife alone.

His actions were drastic, over-complicated, and practically asking for something to go wrong. One fault in Rhys’s plan and the Night Court would have lost both the High Lady and High Lord in a matter of hours.

Cassian was preparing troops to march into the Spring Court to save his ass when Rhys appeared with Feyre and Lucien in tow.

Any negative feelings went away when they appeared.

You fucking idiots,” He spat as he walked over to Feyre and Rhys and enveloped them in a hug.

Feyre clung to the General, who she missed dearly while she was at the Spring Court, careful of his frail wings.

“It’s nice to see you too, Cassian.” Feyre laughed.

“What were you thinking, Rhys? What were you thinking?! Next time you go off on a bullshit mission like that tell me, okay? For fucks sake I was preparing a whole war band to come save your sorry ass.” Cassian may have been chastising his brother, but they both knew that he was simply relieved at their safe return.

Feyre turned to where Lucien was awkwardly standing a few feet away, his head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. This wasn’t a show of cowardice or submission, but simply a male trying to deal with such an onslaught of emotion. To lose his best friend, nearly die, and change courts all in one day… Feyre thought it was miraculous that her friend was still standing.

Feyre stood back from her husband and his brother. “Cassian,” she asked, “would you mind taking Lucien to the House of Wind and explaining a few things?”

Cassian dipped his head in understanding and moved toward Lucien. Feyre stopped him with a hand on his elbow as he passed her and muttered into his ear, “I believe Elain is there as well. Make sure Nesta doesn’t meddle, he’s been through enough.”

Cassian acquiesced and moved forward.

Lucien gave Feyre a small goodbye, before being led out of the room.

Feyre and Rhys were alone at last, for the first time in months.

They crashed together, lips meeting in a passionate, desperate kiss. His hands instantly wrapped around her frame as her hands buried themselves in his hair.

I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” Feyre wept.

“Never again. Never again will we separate, okay? This is it. I can’t lose you, Feyre. I am yours, and I would be nothing without you.” Rhys kissed her again, one hand around her waist and the other now angled her jaw so that he could deepen the kiss further.

“Take me, Rhys. Right here, right now. I need to feel you again. I need to feel you before we go to fight this damned war. Show me that I’m yours and you are mine.” She pleaded, not that she needed to.

Rhys grabbed her to winnow her to their home, but Feyre stopped him by grabbing the hem of his pants and pulling him against her roughly.

“I was promised a wall, Rhys.”

He grinned and conceded to her wants. Conceded so hard the pictures fell off the wall.

The Lonely Tree (Part 14.5)

Word Choice: 1644

Summary: You help Steve with one of his pieces for the art show.

Warnings: Language, Nat and Wanda and Maria being the absolute worst

Y/N: One more part guys… I’m gonna cry. 

Catch up here!

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

You arrived at the studio before Steve, and even though you had posed for him many times before, the formal setting made you feel more nervous than you expected. You had just slipped out of your coat and were fidgeting with the white leggings and white long sleeved shirt he had asked you to wear when he finally made his appearance.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m wearing all white, or are you just going to skip ahead to the part where you murder me? Just curious. Nice choice of venue by the way, very dark and empty.”

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