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!
for the fic prompt: nurseydex and mistaken identity?
i literally struggled over how to write this and ended up writing the tropiest thing i think i’ve ever written and i hope it’s okay if not let me know buddy <3
Dex’s first day of work at Annie’s, his manager, Caitlyn—“Call
me Farmer!”—shows him a picture on the staff bulletin board.
“Okay,” she says. “Rule one: If this dude comes in, do not
serve him any fucking coffee.”
raises his eyebrows. “I thought rule one was ‘keep your hands
away from the steamer,’” he says.
that too,” she allows. “Because that’ll burn like a bitch. But
also,” she jabs a finger at the picture, “don’t give this dude
any coffee. He used to come in, like, every day, buy one small
coffee, and then get free refills all day because that was the
policy.” She rolls her eyes. “Total abuse of the rules. And he
was a totally entitled dick about it.”
makes a face, leaning closer to peer at the picture. It’s not a
great photo—a black-and-white image, taken from a security camera
that must have been mounted over the registers. The guy is tall and
pretty muscular, his clothes kind of hipster meets eighties hip-hop.
“What’s his name?”
something,” Caitlyn says. “Always paid cash, so we didn’t have
a credit card or anything.” She shrugs. “So, rule one. No serving
to Refill Guy.”
Dex salutes. “No serving to Refill Guy.”
grins. “Good.” She pauses. “And also, definitely keep your
hands away from the steamer. You’ll totally get a third degree burn
and it will be awful and nobody wants that.”
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.
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.
Summary: After a long hard
mission it’s always nice to come home to a little teasing and maybe something
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky
Barnes, Sam Wilson, Reader, Marie Hill
Rating: M for mature audience no
one under 18 please. NSFW
Warnings: smut (wrap it if ya
gonna tap it people), NSFW, PWP, daddy kink, slight Dom!Steve, language,
mentions of being hurt,
Word count: 5,202
Notes: Written for @emilyevanston #kate’s cards
against humanity challenge, I chose Making a pouty face. Also this is the first
time I’m writing Steve smut so I’m very sorry if it’s utter crap. Happy
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
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
“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.
Summary: You and Junmyeon have been together for five years - well, you were together for five years. Until two weeks ago. You need to go out with your friends to forget him, but he’s the only thing on your mind. Scenario: slight angst, fluff Word Count: 3,374
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?
7. Yeah, you’re a horrible liar 8. Does this mean no cuddles?
You were just about to drift off to sleep when you hear it, a rustling noise. You peek your head out the top of the duvet, looking round the darkened room. Nothing to be seen, just the curtain billowing softly, maybe you left the window open? But that means… if you left the window open, someone could sneak in. You glance across to shawn, sleeping peacefully before closing your eyes again. Settling back into the bed and listening to his reassuring breaths, trying desperately to match their pace.
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)
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.
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
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
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.
“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.
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.
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 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
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
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.
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
“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.
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?”
“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?”
“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.
“I’ll meet you again in the next life.” Words that have carried through time and ones that Cassian knows well. He offers words of a similar manner to Nesta when he thinks the end has arrived - for he will always find her.
Words: 1.3k | Tags: Angst, Nessian
Brutality ran through his veins. That was who Enalius was. An Illyrian warrior, the first of his kind, and leader to those he commanded.
For the past few months he had been negotiating with the Night Court’s High Lord for territory in the northern mountains for Illyrian training camps. He was supposed to maintain focus on that one goal alone, but that was before he met her.
Anessia was a fae princess from lands far East. She came into Enalius’s life as if she were a storm. And the Illyrian commander was swept off his feet by sheer beauty and ferocity that she possessed.
They had become increasingly intimate in the time they shared. Drawn together by something neither could comprehend. Slowly their relationship grew into something that Enalius became fearful of. He shouldn’t be consumed by the need that gripped him tight. Desire he understood. He had bedded females before, but Anessia…Nes…she was more than that. He couldn’t resist her and those rare smiles he would give him. Or the brief touches when they were out in public.
Enalius was not supposed to be at the mercy of a female who held his heart in her delicate hands.
Hands that were currently resting on his bare chest in the early morning light in his bedroom at the Night Court.
Enalius cursed the dawn. For it meant that there time together was ending. He knew what he had to do. Knew that to protect her he would need to do the unthinkable.
He glanced down at Anessia. She slept peacefully against his scarred body. Her shoulder and the top of her breasts peeked out from underneath the sheets that Enalius covered her with when they were both exhausted from a night of love making.
Silently the Illyrian found the strength to leave the bed and search for his clothes that were scattered on the floor.
“Why do you always feel the need to get up so early?” Anessia mumbled against the pillow and cracked her eyes open to watch Enalius pick up his pants. It was a pleasant sight to wake up to in the morning and Anessia smiled as she started rise up from the bed.
“You’re people will be leaving today,” Enalius said without turning. “You need to prepare for the journey.” Anessia and traveling group were only meant to pass through the Night Court to reach other lands to seek alliances. One of those potentially being that Anessia, heir to the throne, would be married to a high-born fae. Someone with a better standing than a bastard Illyrian warrior could offer.
Quietness settled over the room.
“And what if I didn’t want to go with them?” Anessia questioned.
“You are the heir to your court. One day you will be a queen,” Enalius responded stiffly. “We both knew from the start that this,” he gestured to the bed. “would never last.”
“I want to stay here,” Anessia stood from the bed. Determination hardening her voice. “I want to stay here with you Enalius.”
“Nonsense,” Enalius gritted out and tossed Anessia her clothes. “You should be marrying a king or someone of higher birth. And I am far from that.”
“I don’t care about your birthright,” Anessia walked forward. Her fingers tenderly touched Enalius’s back. Tracing the tattoos there and slowly brushing up against the base of the dark wings.
“I love you Enalius,” Anessia breathed and kissed the skin between of her lover’s shoulder blades.
A sigh threatened to escape Enalius at the gentle touch of the soft lips on his back.
“Nes,” Enalius breathed. He almost lost all of his willpower right then and there. His hand shook with restraint as he barely resisted the urge to reach for her.
“You also promised to take me flying,” Anessia continued. A hint of desperation sinking into her tone as she realized that Enalius still refused to turn and face her. As if he was seriously considering that they part ways.
“We – I can’t do that,” Enalius stepped away from Anessia. His heart being crushed as he could feel sadness radiating from behind him.
“Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you won’t talk to me in public? Or why you push me aside when your friends are near?” Anessia’s tone became laced with confusion and fury. She hated that their relationship had to be kept secret.
“Of course not,” Enalius found his shirt and tugged it on. “But this would never have lasted.”
“That’s only because you’re afraid to fight for it! To fight for us!” Anessia’s voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes. “Ironic how the greatest Illyrian warrior is to afraid to fight for love.”
Anessia quickly put on her clothes and brushed by Enalius on her way out. Her hand froze on the doorframe and she turned to look back at him one last time.
“I will look for you,” she whispered softly. “In the next life.”
Then she was gone.
Enalius watched her go. Every passing second making it difficult to restrain himself from chasing after her. Begging her to stay.
But this was for the best. She deserved better than a bastard warrior with no other title than the bloodshed that followed in his wake.
He ran her last words over in his head again and again long after Anessia’s departure.
I will look for you in the next life.
It was the farewell he had taught her about. One reserved for your closest companions. To those more precious than anything in the world.
Because it was a promise to meet again after death claimed them.
And Enalius knew that he would never see Anessia in this life again. She was bound to follow her duty to her subjects. And he was bound to live a life filled with war.
Weeks later Enalius felt a tug in his ribs. It felt so familiar to what he and Anessia shared yet he ignored the pull from the invisible string and did not answer the call that thrummed deep in his soul.
The string pulled taut as a wave of fear washed over him that was quickly replaced with a sense of peace so startling that it made Enalius buckle against one of the brick buildings in Velaris. Enalius heaved in gulps of air knowing that something was not right, but he had no understanding of what it could be.
He soon discovered the next day why he felt as though the world had been pulled from under his feet and anguish filled his lungs.
The Summer Court sent word that Anessia’s people had been ambushed.
And Anessia was killed during the attack as she died protecting her little sister.
Ennalius felt nothing but a murderous calm settle over him as the Summer Court messenger explained in detail what happened. Hearing what they did to Anessia – to her people who she cared for more than her own life – it sharpened the blade that twisted in his heart.
The High Lord of the Night Court requested that Ennalius and his group of warriors eliminate the threat that the rogue fae posed. By that point the Illyrian was already grabbing for the blade he always kept at his side.
Ennalius would destroy the beasts even without an official order. These bastards would pay dearly for what they had done.
It didn’t take long for the flying Illyrians to track their targets and kill them. Ennalius cut down his opponents with swiftness followed by a trail of screams and blood. All the while making sure he made them suffer. A quick death was far too merciful.
When it was all over Ennalius still felt empty in the depths of his sould amid that carnage at his feet. Usually battles kept him at ease, because bloodshed was all he knew, but he knew there was a void in his heart that could not be filled.
“I will find you again in the next life,” Ennalius whispered to the chasm of emptiness in his chest. Hoping his voice would reach Anessia – his Nes – wherever she was in the next world.
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.
Thanks for reading all. Jared Joker story called “white demon” will be out. Until next time Same bat-time Same bat-channel!
✘ Requests: Savitar Barry asks the reader to marry him before Barry and the rest of the team sends him off to the speed force. + Savitar Barry request!!! He proposes to you on his time, before team Flash sent him to his trap on the speed force 😢
✘ Disclamer: Major Character death (not romatism in a murder here), a bit of angst, ONLY A BIT! I guess… SPOILER: Sorry for killing you?
“You got it?” The first words that came out of your mouth sounded hopeful and desperate at the same time. And for good reason: if your boyfriend had not been able to execute his plan, he would die. More specifically, erased from existence.
“Kill Iris?” Savitar stepped out of his metal suit and smiled funnily at you as you rolled your eyes. The word kill still bothered you, even though you knew it was necessary, you could not say that you agreed 100% with that. “I got it. She is dead, and I will become a god.”
You ran up to him and hugged Savitar, Allen as only you were allowed to call him, tightly, not taking too long for the Speedster to reciprocate the same.
“I was so scared,” you admitted, burying your head on his neck and planting a kiss there, feeling his skin against your lips. It was real, he was real, he was alive.
“Don’t trust me, (Y/N)?” You could bet Savitar was smirking right now, you rolled your eyes again and walked away from him.
“Seriously, you could die, disintegrate, disappear from this world, from the multiverse forever!” You exclaimed, putting out the insecurities you had been keeping to yourself for weeks. You placed your hand on the burned part of his face and stroked it gently there, your eyes meeting and confirming your next speech, “I can not lose you, Savitar.” You just said, without admitting that you continued with this strange feeling bothering your brain.
“And you never will. ” Savitar pulled away from you, and you wanted to pout for the loss of contact with him. He smiled at you, no malice or pain indeed. “You were the only person who stood by me when everyone else rejected me for not being the real Barry Allen. And when I found you here, you believed me and stood by me again, even without even being part of the Team Flash here.” Allen put his hand on your cheek, that light electric current vibrated against your skin. You’d always wonder if it was because your feelings or his eletricity. “I am a god, and you are my goddess.” Before he could begin the decisive sentence in their relationship, Savitar inclined his head and rested his fingers against his forehead, taking for new memories. He lifted his gaze to you, his expression completely adapted to new situation. “She is alive.”
Savitar ran away, just leaving his blue rays to prove he had been there, at all.
“NO!” You shouted when you saw Iris take the gun and aim at Savitar. Your voice caught his attention, just like as the rest of the team while you jumped into Iris, starting a fight for the gun. You tried to pull it away from her, grabbing the gun against your own body.
Until a shot was heard.
You fell to your knees, the gun falling at your side. It hurted like hell, as someone picking up a needle. Join with over a huntred kinfes and stick to a specific place in your body. Your white blouse was painted with your own red, while life slipped away from you.
Although the pain was unbearable, you did not faint, you could not scream, you were just on your knees, at the mercy of what was about to happen to you. Your hand returned to your own wound, not in a futile attempt to anesthetize it, just to confirm everything. And the blood on your fingers did.
“(Y/N)… (Y/N), no!” Savitar approached you, his worried expression made you want to hug him. He was going to be fine, after all this, you needed him to be fine. His features altered to pain and anger, and you could swear that his eyes got simple tears for a second.
He stared at Iris, who was after Barry, ready to kill her. Obviously, even in your state you foresaw the actions moved by your boyfriend’s hatred and pain. Then you held his arm, making his attention focus on you.
“It’s all right. I love you,” You said, smiling at Allen. You could feel that you had only a few minutes left, and knew he felt it for himself as well. You did not want this little time was spent on something bad, you wanted it to be taken advantage of with the love that one of you had for the other. You couldn’t think in any better way to die, but in his arms.
“Marry me.” Savitar said simply, caressing your cheek lightly.
“Of course.” You smiled, and the pain stopped. All you felt was a peace even though the blood coming out of your body pointed out that you should be suffering. Your heart beat with happiness, you were fine.
You were happy.
You confirmed what they said about peace before death at that time. Everything was fine, just good feelings.
“My goddess.” He sighed at you, and you used your strength to reach his lips and kiss him.
Just as your heart stopped beating, Savitar’s body disappeared.
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
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.
Things That go Hump in the Night Halloween Special TG
“It’s that spooky time of year again, to all my ghosts and ghouls out there give us a howl at the moon and keep it locked in with your favorite DJ Serena tee-hee!” Richard awoke to the sound of his morning alarm with a big smile etched on his face, tonight was the big night the night where he’d finally show the skeptics the truth of this day. “Too bad it’s just me and Glenn to witness it come forth though, ever since I found that black kettle pot…” Richard was always a believer in the dark forces of the world but never had any proof to back up his undying love for it, all that changed one day when he stumbled upon an abandoned house. It was there that he found all assortments of vials and old time kitchenware, almost like a bakery only more medieval looking. His gut told him to book it out of there in a flash but a very soothing voice coming from behind the splintered table beckoned to him calling him towards it. He wasn’t sure but he followed it’s order to grab the worn kettle and the book adjacent to it but to never reveal it to anyone…not that it had done any good being that he was always a blabbermouth. The day he brought it back he showed it to Glenn while he scoured the pages of a blank book with the only words written on it, embrace the coven. Thinking it was some sort of elaborate gag he grabbed it ready to toss it in the decorations storage until the voice spoke to him once more. “I will visit you in time….keep me close…Richard.”
Since that day he’d done everything in his power to decipher a code within the book or some hidden writing on the kettle but nothing, until recently. On the eve of Halloween it began to speak again and even emit a bright light that normally would’ve made a sane person run but Richard had always longed for the supernatural side of things. Upon its words he asked Glenn to return to his home tonight and no one else, they were to head for the forest to the same place he’d found the kettle and book. “Dude don’t you think we should maybe you know, invite some girls or something I mean it is just us and on Halloween no less,” Glenn groaned lifting the kettle into his truck. Richard waved and nodded at his complaint saying they’d meet up with the girls after they’d done this task, he was far too transfixed with the book beginning to reveal writing in its pages. The only problem was the fact that he had no clue what language it was. “This could pre-date even the earliest languages,” he uttered under his breath feeling a rush of excitement take hold of him. Regardless of what happened tonight he knew he’d never be the same again and nor would glenn, for the better or worst made no difference to him.
They hopped in the truck and headed for the woods as the sun began to set, Richard could hear his heart beating in his head as the book began to whisper words in his head, words of ecstasy and bewitchment. He was so excited he failed to notice he was pitching a tent, “whoa there buddy not the best time to be at full mast save it for the ladies.” He blushed from embarrassment but Glenn didn’t mind too much being his childhood friend and all, “if he could hear these thoughts he wouldn’t be such a smartass…” he grimaced. After about an hour of driving and listening to the words from the book Richard began to look flushed and was sweating profusely, the book was driving him over the edge and only seemed to be getting stronger as they approached the house. “Hey buddy you alright you’re sweating like crazy and don’t wanna be rude but my seats, oh talk about timing we’re here come on.” Richard attempted to leap out and run inside to begin but his body said otherwise slumping it’s way out slowly almost like a zombie, the voices were practically breathing down his neck at this point only now they had a much more perverse endgame. “Glenn’s cock, so big and perfect, spells require sexual energy, need Glenn must have him…”
Only now did he realize that his eyes were glued to Glenn’s crotch while he unloaded the kettle and carried it in, “yo man can you get the door?” Glenn nudged at it with his foot signaling for assistance while a murder of crows began huddling all around the surrounding trees. Glenn lazily made his way to the door pushing it gently only to have it fall over entirely, “well that’s one way,” Glenn chuckled letting himself in. At this point he was just ready to get it over with and make his way to a more civilized crowd and hopefully not a doctor he thought as he noticed Richard slumping down in front of the kettle. The voices told him to open the book and read the first verse to signal the rising of the full moon, “unleash my power,” it repeated. With a few slurred words the book began emitting a bright light and wind gusted in through the broken door shoving Richard face first into the kettle, Glenn jumped up and tried to pull his other half up but he was stuck. “Enough dicking around Richard this isn’t what you told me would happen!” While he continued pulling at Richards legs he began to hear what sounded like moaning from inside the pot as the winds picked up further and the moon glistened brightly though the window. From inside the kettle Richard began to change feeling his head spin and grow itchy as if his hair were growing, the feelings were overwhelming keeping him from putting up any form of resistance though he could feel himself caring less and less about this. “Richard what the fuck is going on man?!” Glenn began panicking while the moans grew higher in pitch, then suddenly, silence. The wind stopped and all the outside noises ceased leaving only the sound of Glenn breathing erratically. He thought it was over and approached Richard calling out to him still slumped inside the kettle though he got no response only squelching sounds like something crawling from inside. “Dude seriously this isn’t funny come on say something…” Glenn whimpered too terrified to touch anything in the house, he had to do something fast he thought running to a wall and grabbing an axe. It was only then that he heard Richard say, “oh what unfortunate times have befallen you my new pet, this won’t hurt…much.”
Glenn bolted for the open door only to run into a wall, it was too good to be true the door to freedom was not more than a few feet in front of him yet it was gone. He laid against the wall staring at Richard as the moans began again rising in intensity as the metamorphosis continued. He could feel a burning pleasure in his chest that grew stronger and stronger feeling himself be pushed back something inflating in front of him. Reaching out in the dark of the seemingly immense room in the pot he felt the growing orbs in front of him and realized he was growing breasts. Though he now realized what was happening it was too late, he tried to pull himself out but shrieked when he felt his ribs crack and shrink becoming less broad and more feminine. Hair cascaded down while he watched his body squirm and rearrange as if making room for something, “a womb?!” He yelped feeling his breasts expand further tearing through his shirt leaving his oversized breasts dangling in his face. The voice in his head grew so loud he felt like his head might cave in on itself, “touch them, feel your body, feel the raw sexual power of femininity.” He fought back feebly clutching his head noticing the nails elongating scratching his scalp. He’d never felt this way before; so terrified, so helpless, so….free. Glenn’s side the view was no less terrifying, Richards body was growing out, widening and tearing through the fabric of his pants. Despite all this Glenn couldn’t help but admire the size of Richards growing rear, he knew his friend was in danger but he was helpless to move almost as if a force were holding him down. By this point the moans were no longer Richards but whoever or whatever he was becoming, a loud snap came from within the pot and he, now she let out a bloody scream. Richard could feel his spine snap curving inwards thrusting his ass out but he didn’t care anymore all he could think of was why Glenn hadn’t been thrusting into him. “Glenn please…please help…please, fuck me!!!” He shouted in his new voice.
Glenn sat in shock at what he’d heard, this thing that was Richard was asking for sex and not help? Though he didn’t move he could feel himself grow erect staring at Richards bubble butt wiggling in the air with legs flailing as they fattened into thick thighs that could swallow him whole. Reason began to go out the door and he found the courage to stand and approach what was left of Richard. Through the stretched boxers he could still see Richards bulge throbbing but it did little to deter him, his mind was hazy and filled with the voice coming from the kettle. He firmly grasped Richards hips before the snapped out shoved out wider tearing his boxers to shreds, this was Glenn’s breaking point, he thrust as deep as he could inside of the soft jiggling pillows that were Richards ass. Inside the pot Richard contorted feeling his friend enter him howling in delight, he couldn’t control himself he needed to be taken right there just as Violet demanded, “no, it is as you demand, you are not Richard, there is no Richard, only violet.” He nodded his head absent mindedly feeling Glenn’s thick rod rub his most sensitive places, along with that he could feel the empty hole is his stomach begin to fill. His balls painfully sucked inside and made way for the remainder of his former self, he felt himself edging from the pounding from behind though his cock began shriveling pitifully. Then without warning, he felt Glenn release his load inside him as he bit his lip hard feeling the power well up inside him and the world go dark. His penis sucked inside rapidly and Glenn was sent flying to the wall in a burst of light knocking him unconscious. When Glenn came to he was in shackles on the table of the house, he looked around the candle-lit room hoping it was all a bad dream until she appeared from the shadows. Her face spelled innocence but her body said seductress as she walked up to him still wearing her tattered clothes. “You must be Glenn…or should I say Glenda?” She chuckled with her bright brown eyes glowing in the night, and before Glenn could protest she mounted him.
He was in shock, his former bestfriend was now a witch that seemed intent on doing him harm. He tried to break free from his shackles but it was no use, “Richard if you’re in there please help!” “Silly boy Richard is gone there is only me now, I wonder about your frame Glenn. I’ll give you the choice large breasts or small? Large rear or petite?” Glenn screamed at the question begging someone would come but those pleas were drowned out by the feeling of something warm wrapping around his cock. “How does your best friends pussy feel Glenn?” Violet cackled as she slid his manhood inside her tight new pussy, it was her first cock in a millennia so she was quick to orgasm tightening her grip on Glenn. “Oh silly me it’s been a very very long time you see so be gentle.” She said passionately against his ear before kissing him deeply. Glenn tried his hardest not to enjoy it but how could he deny this goddess throwing herself at him? Her breasts bounced in his face as he took one of them into his mouth, “that’s it Glenn surrender to me!” She began grinding her hips harder and faster against him freeing his hands to grope her fat ass, right and wrong had left the building it was only he and Violet now. He was too gone in the pleasure to notice his sculpted chest begin to sag almost as if making room for something though Violet was paying full attention twisting his fattening nipples. He came from the initial touch alone thrusting rigorously inside her emptying his now deflated balls, “more Glenn give me more!!” She undid the chains on his legs as well and bent over presenting herself to him and he happily answered. Hair began to block his vision as he entered her slick velvet walls once more, he felt smaller but he paid no attention to it or his finely manicured hands groping Violet’s ass. “You will do as your mistress commands, you will obey me without question until your death!” Violet moaned out feeling Glenn’s hips gain some girth to them cushioning his thrusts inside her. Glenn, now Glenda was powerless against the witch feeling his will slip away and give into her subjugation with one last powerful thrust she yelled out, “Yes my master yes yes yes!!!” The last of her cum entered Violet as her frame exploded outward into bustling curves that outdid even Violet’s body. Glenda fell back cushioned by her ass panting while Violet cleaned herself off, “now that I’ve taken care of that…what do you say we get the old gang back together I’m sure Wolfie and old Batbrain are dying to see us.” Violet cackled and snapped her fingers to create a pair of brooms for the pair and they rode off into the night leaving no trace of the two former friends in their wake…
It all started with a murder and then a rebirth. This is the point where I should probably tell you that it didn’t happen to the same person, but to two different, completely unrelated people. It just goes to show how much a life can be affected by the choices of another.
Let me back up and tell you the real story; the one that evades the cops every time. The cops thought they were looking for the mangled body of a young woman in the woods of a town called Beacon Hills. Specifically, the second half to the first they found. I was in my room picking out my First Day Outfit. It was the night before my freshman year of high school, and I had a feeling everything was about to change.