kneeling figure

“Seventeen Days” (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Fantasy/College AU)

Summary: An angel from heaven is sent back to Earth to prevent college senior Bucky Barnes from ending his life. But here’s the catch - she only has seventeen days to do it.

A/N: i’ve decided to do a special tagging list for this story! please let me know if you’re interested in joining me in the potential mess that is this story. and i know this pace is oddly slow, but bear with me, friends! there’s a reason for it! -j. x

“Seventeen Days” (Masterlist)

Your feet land on a cushy rug, and an audible sigh leaves you. Contrary to popular assumption, the journey from heaven has been a bumpy one. No offense to the technicians of heaven, but there has to be a smoother way to cross the barrier between mortality and the divine.

Clutching your stomach, you lean against the wall for a breather. “Whew, that was horrible,” you let out as your stomach calms down.

“Aren’t you the one who set fire to David Bowie’s cape?”

You snap your head in the direction of the safehouse’s living room. Lounging on a couch is a young blonde sporting glasses and a cap. He studies you with piercing scrutiny, his blue eyes battling with your equally relentless gaze. As this is a safehouse for non-humans, you deduce he’s either a celestial being or a mythical creature in disguise as a human.

“I’ve heard stories, and… Yes, it’s definitely you,” he chuckles, crossing his legs with leisure. “You’re definitely the one who burned Bowie’s cape.”

Crossing your arms against your chest, you frown at the blonde. “I literally just got here. Is that really an appropriate way to greet someone who just made the journey from heaven to Earth?” you cluck.

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry the ride to Earth wasn’t all rainbows and glitter with the Hallelujah chorus playing in the background?”

You curiously peer at the blonde, giving him the once-over as a pregnant pause blankets the room. A smile slowly invades your lips as you place your hands on your hips. “You’re a sassy grump. We’re either going to get along wonderfully or kill each other,” you confidently conclude.

The blonde snorts out a laugh and stands to his full height, forcing you to tilt your head upwards to meet his eyes. He holds out his hand with a cordial smile. “I’m Steve, Grim Reaper and your official mentor during your stay,” he introduces.

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Sick Babygirl - pt.2

Genre: a smidgen of fluff and s m u t

Length: about 1,500 words

Kinks: dd/lg, choking, brat taming, predator/prey play

Originally posted by magiccastles

Jaebum had been taking care of you all week; bring you everything you needed or wanted, leaving practice early just to check up on you, and so much more.

You looked up at him, softly pouting as you made eye contact. “Daddy…” His petname rolling off your tongue and escaping your mouth like a sweet, peaceful song.

A bright smile appeared on his face, his cheeks turning a bright pink- just like they always did when you called him that during the moments alone you two had together. “Yes princess?” He asked in reply, gently caressing your face.

“You seem really tired. Are you sure I’m not being a bother?” You asked curiously, cuddling into the palm of his large hand, “I feel so annoying. You’re doing so much for me..”

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Alone - Stiles Stilinski

Originally posted by stydia-mieczydiamartinski

warning: triggering content.

“Ma’am can you give me any insight on what happened?”
Sweetie, I know you’ve seen a lot tonight, but can you give a description of the man who came in and did this?”
“Any details you didn’t tell us?”

You just kept shaking your head, deputies, FBI Agents, a few reporters that got through the gates and pushed for information.  Somewhere along the line, you gave up on listening, just staring at the bloody carpet in front of you.  Your head still mulling over what just happened as you sat at the bottom of the staircase

It was a normal Saturday afternoon, except for the fact that your parents were home.  Being emissaries for Satomi’s pack, they were often not home for long periods of time.  So today was going to be a fun day together to spend as a family.  You’d rented movies, ordered a pizza, and everyone was settling on the living room.  You’d only been in the kitchen for a few minutes, barely registering that The Mute had come into your house.  You stood frozen frozen, still hidden behind the wall, watching the events, without saying a word, making a noise.  You didn’t even cry.

“Hey! Hey back off!” You heard a familiar voice.  “I know this girl, everyone give her some space!” It yelled again.  Your eyes still trained on the carpet that was once a comfort to sit on, playing dolls on it when you were young.  “Will you all give her some god damn space please!?” The room grew silent, and the figure kneeled in front of your view.  “y/n?” He asked softly, and you looked up, meeting the eyes of the Sheriff.

“Noah-” You croaked, but he shook his head, indicating that you didn’t need to say a word to him.

“I’ve contacted Melissa, and I’m going to take you to her home so you can get some rest, if that’s alright?” You hesitantly nodded your head, unwrapping your arms from around your knees.  Sheriff Stilinski rose to stand, and he held out a hand to you.  Again, you hesitated, trying not to look at the crowd of people still in your home.  You suddenly felt unsafe, and panicked eyes searched for the closest family you had in the room.  The Sheriff squeezed your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, like a shield protecting you as he walked you out the door.

Cameras flashed, questions were hurled, and pens scribbled.  Yells and questions, people asking how you were involved, how you felt about the events that had unfolded, what it was like to be an orphan, even if you were the one who ordered the attack.  Tears splattered on your cheeks while Noah was yelling at them all to leave you alone.  He got you into the backseat of his cruiser as quickly as he could manage.  When he drove off, in a screech of the rubber tire against the cement, you wondered if he was trying to run them over.  But the people quickly migrated away from the angry Sheriff’s car, leaving as they had no use in sticking around if you ween’t going to be answering questions.

The ride to the McCall home was silent, besides your soft whimpering.  You were trying not to cry, crying was embarrassing.  Especially in front of a man who took you in and treated you as family when your parents were busy with their pack.  The Stilinski house, both Noah and Stiles, your best friend might you add, was your safe place.  For anything from a supernatural threat, to a test you were anxious about.  You had your own key in, sometimes you’d be there when Stiles and is father got home, reading a book at the kitchen table, making them dinner, or even fast asleep on the couch.

It was a late Friday night, and Stiles and his father had just gotten home from an away game.  Stiles was both excited and depressed.  He’d finally got to play, but the other team just crushed Beacon Hills.  He blamed it slightly on you not being there.  You were always there for his games, every one, every practice too.  To support Stiles.  Scott too, but mostly Stiles.  You knew how much it meant to him to be somewhat noticed on the team, even if he barely played.  But tonight, you couldn’t go, you had a date with your boyfriend, Josh, and when you found out it was the team’s big away game, you begged him for a reschedule.  But he wouldn’t budge.  You almost cried telling Stiles you couldn’t make it, but he shrugged it off, telling you you deserved time for yourself too.  You hugged for a moment, before you pulled away, and met up with your boyfriend down the hall.  Stiles tried to look away when he’d kissed you, because he didn’t understand why he let himself repeatedly die inside just by watching the simple action, but he did.

Coming into the house, he breathed a sigh of relief, finally home, and finally able to go to bed.

“I’m heading up dad, I’ll see you in the morning” Noah only nodded, equally as worn out from the hardcore cheering he’d done that night.  Usually you were there to keep him company, most of the time with signs or cute little chants and jingles to help cheer the team on.

Stiles jogged up the steps, body sore from all the running, and quite a few body slams that had knocked him to the ground.  He slowed his pace as he neared his door, but before he opened it, he heard quiet cries and whimpers.

Immediately recognizing the sound to be yours, he opened the door slowly, as not to scare you, and gently called your name.

“y/n?” You snuffled, opening your eyes, and squinting to see him in his dark room.  Stiles walked in, closing the door behind him for the sake of privacy.

(not that Sheriff Stilinski cared if you were together in his room anyways)

You were laying on his bed, in a nice blue dress and tights, and heels Stiles knew were new because he’d helped you pick them out on your feet.  He crossed the room and kneeled down in front of you, a hand coming up instinctively to caress your air, pushing wet strands back behind your ear.

“y/n what happened?” He whispered, and you closed your eyes, a few more cries escaping your lips.  “Want me to give you a few minutes?” You nodded, and Stiles did too, wiping your cheeks again before standing.  “I’m gonna change alright?” You nodded, and simply rolled over so he could do so.  Stiles looked at you in concern for a moment, before stripping out of his jersey and shorts, pulling on sweatpants and a tee shirt instead.  He went back to his drawer, and pulled out a flannel, then came over to you.  “y/n” He said softly, and you turned back around.  He held out the flannel for you, and saw your flicker of a smile.

It was your favorite one.

He turned around as you’d done for him, hearing the quiet sound of a zipper, as well as clothes dropping to the floor.

“Okay” You whispered, and he turned to find you were back in bed, only wearing his flannel, which almost covered to your knees.  Stiles gave you a soft smile, before folding up your dress and tights neatly, setting them on his desk, and moving your shoes to sit next to it.

“Can I lay with you?” You nodded, and he got on the bed.  “Are you cold?” You nodded again and Stiles tugged the blankets out from under you, and you both wiggled to get under them.  Once you were comfortable, you took in a deep breath.  “You looked beautiful, I feel as though you’re in the wrong bed tonight” Stiles said, a voice of genuine concern.

“We were supposed to go to that nice Italian place tonight” You said quietly, unable to look Stiles in the eye.  “He was going to pick me up… I was going to look perfect, the whole night was going to be perfect…” You sniffled, and willed yourself not to cry.  Crying was embarrassing.  Stiles moved ever so slightly closer, watching you, and hanging onto every word you said.  “But he was late… and he wasn’t answering his texts” You mumbled.  “So I just drove over to his place, maybe to pick him up, ask what happened I wasn’t really thinking I guess” Stiles nodded.  “He didn’t answer the door when I knocked, and it was unlocked so I just- I just went in-” A few tears spilled out of your eyes and your voice was more of a whimper.  “I don’t know why I followed the trail of clothes upstairs I- I knew what I was going to find I-” 

“Shh…sh..” Stiles cooed, and wrapped string arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried before him, for the first time.

“I didn’t think he’d cheat on me” You cried into his shirt, staining the soft cotton with your tears.  “I don’t know what I did-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, he did” Stiles told you, nuzzling his nose in your hair as he spoke softly into your ear.  “You didn’t deserve any of it, he’s the idiot who would do such a thing” You didn’t say anything, just held onto Stiles and quietened your cries.  “y/n you are such a bright, and funny, and charismatic, and kind, and beautiful human being, and for you to be treated like that is a cruelty to the world”

You let out a soft laugh at that, one little breath that he knew was just your little giggle that he loved to hear so much.

“There, that’s what I want to hear” Stiles pulled back, and left a long kiss on your forehead.  “You should be laughing.  It makes the flowers bloom in jealousy” You smiled and blushed, then buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you Stiles” You said, and yawned.  “Can I go to sleep?” He nodded, resting his chin on your head and rubbing circles on your back.

“Yeah of course baby” He whispered, feeling overcome with tiredness as well.  “Sleep well” he pulled back, but you tugged on him.

“Please just… just stay and hold me” He smiled at you, sliding up next to you again, and winding his arms around you.  You tucked your head back under his chin, and puffed out a long breath against his skin.

“Goodnight y/n” Stiles whispered int your hair, leaving a few light kisses there that made your stomach flutter.

“Night”

You stood in the doorway of Melissa’s home, thinking of the first time you spent the night with Stiles in the same bed, as she talked to Noah about the situation.  Your eyes looked around the home you’d been in so many times before, but this time felt different.

“y/n?” Your head snapped up to see Melissa, and she gave you a wary smile.  “Would you like me to take you to the guest room?”

“I got it” You choked meekly, and your hand tightened on the strap of your backpack.  There were a mere three outfits in there, one being pajama shorts and Star Wars tee that didn’t fit Stiles anymore.  You then excused yourself to go up the stairs.  As soon as you got into the spare room, you set your bag down, and slid your back down the door.

“y/n you in there?” You heard Scott knock on the door.

“Yeah” You aired out, knowing full well his werewolf hearing could pick up on it.  

“Can I come in-”

“Not right now” You mumbled, hitting the back of your head against the door as you sighed softly.  

“O-okay just…. if you wanna talk or just.. I don’t have company you know where to find me” You didn’t say anything, knowing your voice would just come out in a broken whimper if you tried.  And after a few moments, you heard Scott walk away.

You tried to sleep, curling up on the bed.  But you ended up just staring wide eyed at the wall across from you, for three hours.

So, you got up, and went downstairs, where you knew Scott was watching tv.  You heard a mix of talking, and you cleared your throat somewhat quietly to gain his attention.  But two pairs of feet jumped off the couch.

Your eyes grew wide and all your emotions came back up as you saw Stiles, staring intently at you.

“Stiles-”

“y/n” he choked and ran over to you, engulfing you in his arms.

That was when you really let your emotions show, you let yourself break down, into ugly sobs and long painful cries.  Your hands came up under his arms, gripping the back of his shoulders.  Stiles was crying to, and you were both moving around so much as you groped at each other that you fell over, just hugging on the floor.

“You could’ve died, you could’ve died” Stiles mumbled, hands running through your hair, down your back, cupping your face as you cried.  Then quickly his arms encircled your waist, tugging your entire body against his.  “I love you” He whispered into your ear.  “I love you so much” You cried harder, hands flying up to his head, fingers fisting into his hair.

“They’re gone” You sobbed.  “They’re gone they’re gone they’re gone”

“But you’re not” You sniffled. and just buried yourself in him.  “You’re still here” You squeezed your eyes shut tight, hands falling to his face, and his did as well.

“Stiles” You cried quietly, your forehead falling against his chin.  “I-I feel alone I don’t- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping your tears and calming you slightly.  His lips pressed feather lightly to your hairline.

“You’re not alone” He promised.  “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and in some pajamas alright? We can lay and talk like normal, okay?” You nodded, and wrapped your arms around his neck, prompting him to carry you.  “I’ll see you in the morning Scotty” Stiles said, and Scott nodded.

“Take care, I’ll make you guys breakfast” The alpha responded.  Stiles nodded, and carried you up the stairs.  he looked down at you, finding your eyes closed, a silent stream or tears trailing down your cheeks.  But you looked peaceful.

You opened your eyes when you were laid down on the bed, and you looked up at Stiles, who was opening up your backpack.

“Don’t even think about making a crack about going through a woman’s things” He grumbled, and you tried to smile, you did, for him, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself.  He pulled out your shorts, and smiled upon seeing his old tee shirt.  Sure, he’d given it to you, but it made him feel warm to know you kept it.  “Arms up buttercup” You obliged, raising your hands.  “You better have a bra on” Stiles half scolded you, pulling your shirt over your head to reveal you did indeed have a bra one.  (a lacy black one that you wore too casually for Stiles’ liking.  not that he noticed..) He replaced it with the Star Wars shirt while you kicked off your jeans.  You pulled the sorts on yourself, then laid back down.

“Cuddle with me” You demanded in a soft voice that made Stiles want to laugh.  But he didn’t dare to do so.  Instead, e just climbed in next to you, and let you settle into his arms like you usually did.  “Stiles”

“Mm do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head softly.

“No.. no right now it’s- it’s too fresh” He nodded in understanding , and his hands ran up and down your back, eyes never leaving yours, which were staring down at the flower printed sheets.  “I love you too..you know” You whispered, eyes peering up at his from under your lashes.  “I heard you earlier, I didn’t ignore it” Stiles’ lips pulled up a little, and his fingers brushed your hair back neatly

“Trust me when I say I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m sorry” He said, and you shrugged a little.

“I just feel… numb” You said.  “And it’s weird, that it hasn’t really kicked in yet, and I’ve acknowledged that…” You shook your head, but Stiles nodded.

“I understand” He whispered, knuckles still brushing up and down your cheek.  “I just wish you didn’t have to-”

“I know” You cut him off now, and for a split second looked down to his lips.  “I know” You leaned forward just slightly.  “I just want to…can I- can I try something?” Stiles nodded, and her fingers ghosted along his jaw, hands sliding up to cup his cheeks, puling him closer.  Stiles’ hand laid on your waist, pulling you further until your lips met.  

It wasn’t fireworks, no, it was more like a flower blooming for the first time.  All of the passion and love you’d grown to have for Stiles this past year, all poured out into the one soft, and seemingly simple action.  When you parted, you kept your eyes closed, while Stiles stared at you, trying to get a red on what you were feeling.

“Was that okay?” He whispered unsurely, and you nodded.

“Yeah… yeah definitely” Your lashes fluttered open to find Stiles smiling gently at you.  He stroked your cheek before giving you another chaste kiss.

“Good” He hummed.  “Because I’ve wanted to do that for a long time” You frowned slightly, cupping his chin in one hand and bringing his warm vanilla tasting lips back to yours in a longer lasting kiss.

“Let’s promise each other something” You whispered, and he nodded.

“Anything”

“Let’s promise to.. to never do anything alone” Stiles smiled, a calloused hand brushing against your cheek.

“I promise you, y/n l/n, to never let you do, or go through, anything by yourself” He said, and held out a pinky.

“And I promise you, Mieczyslaw Stilinski, to never let you do, or go through, anything by yourself” You responded, and linked your pinkies together on it.

You fell asleep in his arms that night, comforted by his fingers twirling in your hair, and a soft lullaby-like hum he’d make.

And you kept your promise through time.  You went to your parents’ funeral together, hands bound tight.  You went to Prom together, you had movie nights as frequently as possible, you gave him your innocence and he gave you his for the first time.

And when you grew older, your promise would be repeated as your vows to love each other in a long lasting marriage.

And you very well did.


tagged: @morganschiebel @bunnyboo10154

just an angsty sput of the moment fic.  a requested one will be up tomorrow!

xoxo ~ jordie

Broken - 12x23 Coda Fic

Summary: He rubs a hand over his face, looking down at the angel again. In reality, he’d known. For a while. I mean, who makes a mixtape for a platonic friend? Of course Castiel hadn’t known the meaning of it, but… it’d made Dean feel better. Like he’d actually expressed himself. Of course he couldn’t do it with words. He’d only ever said those words to his mother in the last… however many years since all this shit started.

Read here on AO3


Featherless. Bent. Broken.

Please, Chuck, please come back. I need you to bring him back. I need him.

“You stupid fucking son of a bitch. We told you the plan. We told you. We had it under control. And you waltzed right the fuck in there and got yourself killed. You fucking idiot, Cas. Damn it.” He ignores the breaks in his voice and the tears rolling down his cheeks, opting to focus his eyes on the sky again. He takes a few deep breaths, his eyes fluttering closed after a moment.

He was gone. Castiel was really and truly gone. Of course, it felt like that every time, but this time… This time was different. His wings were burned on the ground around Dean, and Chuck… Chuck flapped off to who knows where with Amara. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that Chuck wouldn’t be of any help to them.

So this was it. This was the last time. Castiel’s final death. Hardly seemed fitting, him being stabbed in the back by Lucifer. The one problem they’d never managed to take care of. Of course that’s the thing that would come back to bite them in the ass. Things were too good. Mom was back and Cas… Cas was somewhat normal again.

Dean had gotten too happy. That was his mistake. He’d let himself believe after Ketch’s death that they would all come out of this okay. That somehow, they’d all make it back to the bunker and Lucifer would be iced and they could focus on the Nephilim problem. They’d put the Bunker back in order, and Castiel and Mary could move into their rooms permanently. Dean would cook and they would all hunt, and everything would be okay.

He shakes his head at his own foolishness, a broken sob escaping his lips. He’s surprised he can feel anything right now. He’d watched the blade rip through Castiel’s chest, watched Lucifer smirk at him as the lo- as his best friend’s grace burned out and his wings burned into the ground. He lets out a sigh, looking up at the sky again. Fuck it. He’s too damn old for this. Lucifer had smirked at him as the love of his life’s wings had burned into the ground.

He rubs a hand over his face, looking down at the angel again. In reality, he’d known. For a while. I mean, who makes a mixtape for a platonic friend? Of course, Castiel hadn’t known the meaning of it, but… it’d made Dean feel better. Like he’d actually expressed himself. Of course he couldn’t do it with words. He’d only ever said those words to his mother in the last… however many years since all this shit started.

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Astral Wish

Word Count: ~800

Pairing: Chanyeol/Reader

Notes: demon/royalty! au or something like that

“the world has changed, the night sky is filled with silver stars.”

“Are you serious? You too?” A booming voice echoes through the great hall, making everyone cower.

“I-I’m sorry my Lord,” a small figure kneels below the steps that lead up to the magnificent throne. Chanyeol looks down from the seat, his ruby orbs grows even more intense.

“This is the fifth time it’s failed. Are you all just here for decoration?” He directs these words even at his highest commanding officers, who all have their heads down in embarrassment.

Chanyeol lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his hands through his jet-black hair a few times. “Get out. All of you.”

“My Lord, I-I can expla-” the man chokes mid sentence, the air around him thins, and his whole body paralyzes.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Chanyeol’s eyes are glowing, and a dark aura surrounds him. Immediately, the hall clears out, and the small man scuttles away, drenched with sweat.

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Matching Marks Part 2

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2517

Prompts: Soulmate AU, and “This is a mandatory partner project and since everybody else is taken I have to have you as my partner.”

Read Matching Marks Part 1 here!

This is part 2 of my entry’s for @jared-padaloveme‘s Fluff Birthday Challenge!! :) I’m glad you all loved these two parts so much! Enjoy!

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Hatshepsut’s temple at Deir el-Bahari (الدير البحري, “Monastery of the Sea”), a complex of temples and tombs on the west bank of the Nile, across from Luxor. It’s part of the Theban Necropolis. The Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut is a colonnaded structure, designed by Senenmut, royal steward and architect of Hatshepsut (and believed by some to have been her lover), to serve for her posthumous worship and to honor the glory of Amun. It sits atop colonnaded terraces, reached by ramps that once had gardens. Today, the terraces only convey a faint impression of the original intentions of Senenmut. Most of the statues are missing - the statues of Osiris in front, the sphinx avenues in front of the court, and standing, sitting & kneeling figures of Hatshepsut; these were destroyed in the posthumous condemnation of this pharaoh. The temple architecture has been considerably altered as a result of misguided reconstruction in the early 20th century.

Victory- An Ivar Imagine

So the lovely @pokeasleepingsmaug wrote a stunning piece a little while ago about Ivar taking his lady love on the battlefield, and she encouraged me to write my own little bit as I absolutely love that prompt. So here is my attempt!

TW: mentions of blood, mentions of death, possible voyeurism.

****
The land runs red with blood.

He sits atop his chariot, surveying the carnage laid out before him. Bodies litter the field, carrion birds already gorging themselves on their prepared feast. He inhales deeply, letting the stench of decay and death fill his lungs. The cries of the dying echo in his ears. Such sweet, sweet music. The only sound he loves more is the sound of his name on your lips.

You. His fierce, fearless shieldmaiden. His goddess of war and destruction. Only you understand his lusts and desires, his hunger for blood and chaos. He scans the horizon for your form, and his heart gives a mighty thump within his chest when he finds you.

He watches you pick your way across the field, dragging your tainted sword behind you. Your braided hair has come undone, your shield is splintered and you are covered in blood. He thinks you have never looked more terrifying or more beautiful. A true wild woman, the incarnation of death herself.

He calls your name, a clear sound over the groans of the dying. Your eyes find his, and a hungry smile spreads across your face. Your teeth are stained red, and he longs to plunge his tongue into your mouth and lick them all clean.

You make your way to his chariot, and with each step he finds himself growing more eager for you. He wants to lay you down amongst the bodies and make you scream his name. He wants to soak up all the blood caked to your skin, wants to taste the sweet tang of victory on your tongue. He wants to feel so, so alive amidst all this death. His very bones cry out for it.

You must see it on his face, for you give him a wicked look and toss away your sword and shield. You fall to your knees on the ground, hands spread outwards as if you are begging. Begging for him, begging for what only he can give you. You open your crimson stained lips and only one word tumbles out.

“Please.”

It is all he needs to hear.

He crawls over the bodies, slithering like a serpent through the mud. The blood thrums rapidly in his veins. He watches you as he moves, watches your pupils devour the color of your eyes, watches the flush of desire creep up your neck. He knows you love him like this, all filthy and covered in gore, drunk on the rush of killing. He knows in this moment you want him to cover your body with his, to fall together in a sticky heap of blood and sweat and arousal. And he is desperate to grant you your wish.

He reaches your kneeling figure, one hand coming to rest on your neck, feeling the beat of your pulse beneath his fingers. Alive, whole, still his. He squeezes gently and shudders at the soft moan that slips from you. He stretches his other hand, one grimy finger to running reverently across your bottom lip. Your tongue darts out to lick the blood crusted along the tip, and everything that holds him together snaps.

It’s a war of tongues and teeth, of grasping hands and scratching nails. There is no time nor place for softness or loving touches; this moment is for ferocity and vitality, for feeling everything there is to feel in this earthly flesh. His every sense is heightened, every touch and every kiss threatens to burn him from the inside out. You are perfect beneath him, groping and gasping and whimpering until he can barely hold himself together.

He’s fast and ruthless, a perfect mimicry of how he moves in battle. You match him in every movement, a dance you have honed over the time you have shared together. He does not care if anyone hears or sees. In fact, he wants them to. He wants the dying men around him to see the ones who have struck them down, twisted together like vines on a branch. He wants them to hear your screams, for them to know that they are leaving this world while he is still enjoying it. Their enemy has conquered them, and now he receives his prize.

It does not take long. One last bruising kiss, one final dig of your nails into his shoulders and he’s roaring, shouting out his triumph across the desolate wasteland. Your cries mingle with his, and the whole earth seems to shake with the force of it.

He catches his breath, letting you cradle him against you as he laps lazily at the blood spattered across your neck. He has never felt more complete, never felt more perfectly balanced. It is all his favourite things at once: glory, death, sex and you. It is the sweetest victory he can imagine.

So when you give birth to his firstborn son nine months later, he knows exactly what to name him.

“Sigtrygg. Our trusted victory.”

****
Ivar having sex around blood and death is canon, let’s not kid ourselves otherwise ;)

anonymous asked:

omg can u do a Josh imagine where he'qs really stressed out or something and the reader has really bad anxiety and she goes to ask him a question or something and he gets irriatated and calls her annoying AND SHE GETS REALLY UPSET AND RIGHT WHEN THE WORDS COME OUT OF HIS MOUTH HE REGRETS it cause he loves her ??? Idk If this makes sense lol SORRY BUT Ok thanks I love ur imagines ;)

thank you for the kind words :)) enjoy

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

The front door slammed suddenly, practically causing you to jump out of your skin.  The pictures hanging on the wall rattled because of the sudden impact.  

You were in the kitchen, in the midst of drying off a dish you’d just washed when Josh came bustling through the door.  You waited cautiously, immediately recognizing that something about his demeanor was off.  He threw his sweatshirt on the floor and tossed his keys on the table, letting them slide across the wood, obviously not caring where they landed.  He made no effort to greet you, or even acknowledge your existence.  

A lump formed in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe.  You hated confrontation.  You hated any sort of tension, actually.  It was radiating off from Josh, suffocating you.  You had to say something.

“How was your day?” you asked nervously.

Josh walked right past you to the cupboard, grabbing a cup.  He proceeded to the fridge, totally ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety just growing more and more intense.  

“Is everything okay?” You say.  Josh continued to pour his drink, showing no sign that he even heard you.  He gripped his cup, leaving the bottle of soda out, before walking towards the stairs.

“Josh?” You say again, worry evident in your tone.

“What the fuck do you want?!” he bellows suddenly, spinning in his tracks and staring at you.  “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second or are you just that determined to be constantly fucking annoying?!”

You’re eyes widen and Josh’s suddenly loud voice makes you jump, the glass dish in your hand falling to the floor, shattering around your feet.  You snap out of your trance, looking down at the mess you made and anxiety flooding through you.  Your whole body shakes and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes.  You choke back a sob, nervously kneeling down, tucking your hair behind your ear and trying to pick up the broken glass.  

“Sorry-“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt Josh hears.  “Sorry.” you repeat.  You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces in your hand.  Your vision quickly becomes blurry and your cheeks wet.  

“Shit,” you hear, but you don’t stop.  You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before Josh can get more upset about it.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  You wished you didn’t get anxious so easily.  

By now you’re a wreck.  You can’t see.  The tears have taken over, they’re flowing steadily down your face.  You can’t really see what you’re collecting off the floor, all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Y/N, stop-“ you hear.  

It’s distant.

“Hey-“

It’s just background noise.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can swat him away, Josh is grabbing you, pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry-“ he chokes out.  Josh holds you tight.  His head rests on top of yours. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up-“ you sob.  

“Shh,” he soothes.  He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy and you’re still shaking so violently.  Josh grips your arm with his hand, holding you steady and trying to calm you down.  Once your breathing returns to normal again, you feel Josh shift.  “Let’s get away from the glass.”

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor and guiding you to the dining room.  He stands in front of you.  Your eyes feel heavy.  

Josh is grabbing your hands, holding them out in front of you and scanning them.  “Did you cut yourself?” he asks, running his own hands over your skin.  


You shake your head.

He pulls you in then, crashing his body against your and pressing his hands into your back.  

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats for the third time.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell-“

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of his skin.  “It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm.  

You feel Josh shake his head above you.  “No-I’m-“ he almost apologized again, but he pauses.  “I had a really shitty day,” he sighs.  “But that’s not your fault.”

You pull back, looking him in the eye, “You can talk to me, you know?” you say, “When you have a shitty day, you can talk to me about it.  That’ll probably save us quite a few glasses in the future.”

He nods, smiling slightly and kissing the top of your head, “I’ll remember that next time,” he says.

Dr. Destiny #4

Dr. Destiny #1
Dr. Destiny #2
Dr. Destiny #3

A long time ago, a young boy was playing with his mother by the lake.
But while she wasn’t looking, they boy was gone. She searched for him for days until she found his body washed up on the shore.
Stricken with grief, his mother would do everything to get her child back. She learned the dark arts and summoned him back from the dead.
But when her boy was back, she was repulsed by him. He had transformed into a monster of weeds and moss.
She cast him out, exiling him. With nowhere left to go, the boy returned to the lake from which his body came.
Saddened and alone, the boy cried, and his tears woke up the spirit of the lake. She felt sorry for the boy and guilty for causing his death, so she allowed him to live with her, caring for him and nurturing him like his mother wouldn’t.
One day, after years of living in the bottom of the lake, the boy was crying again.
“What’s wrong, my child?” asked the lake spirit.
“I was watching the people play in the lake above. All of my friends have grown up, found love, and had kids of their own. And I am still a boy.”
“Worry not, my child. For you will grow.” the spirit blessed her child with a song.
As more years went by, the child grew and grew, until his body was the size of an island and his head was tall enough to see above the water.
And from where he sat he could watch all of the people play.

”That’s a beautiful story.” Lilac said as she leaned in closer to read the old inscription on the sign. A warm breeze blowed from the lake left and brushed through her ginger hair.

“It’s probably just a story. And even if there is a kernel of truth to it, it’s probably not nearly as beautiful.” Dr. Destiny said. She was holding onto Lilac’s hand and looking up at the wooden sign. Above the inscription was an old illustration etched into the wood, an island with a face peeking above the water, with a wide warm smile looking directly at the viewer. Above that was the title of the sign: “The Story of Benagam Island”

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BTS Reactions

Requested by cute-irony: Hey! Can you make the alternative ending when bts gf not the one to shoot her brother but try to shield BTS?


Scene 1:  Jungkook, Jin, Namjoon

“Please…I’m begging you as your sister,” she gulps. Her brother looms over her kneeling figure with his fists clenched tight.

The leader of the mafia was fuming in anger after hearing those words. “This bastard threatened to kill your brother yet you still stand on his side?” he growls.

She glances to where he was tied up. His face was beaten down to the bone as it hangs over his shoulders. Seeing him covered in blood brought tears to her eyes. She admitted that this entire situation was twisted because of her.

“It wasn’t as if you were any different!” she yelled. “You were the one that declared the turf wars!”

She was going crazy. There were so many times where she cried and cursed at where she ended up. Why did the gods place her in such a family? They were good people but the things they do…it was unforgivable to her.

Her brother almost looked broken seeing his sister falling to pieces. He cared for her, he really did. But the pride in him just wouldn’t let it go. It sickens him that she fell for the one person he hated.

“I’m giving you a proposition,” he whispers. His heart clenched at the words that swirled around his tongue. “You choose right now. Family or this bastard. You choose him and you’ll never be allowed back here.”

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Jungkook

She was ready to pick him…until her brother relayed the last of his proposition. He knew how much she loved her family. The choices they make aren’t always the best but behind closed doors, they were a loving family.

“Don’t do it,” Jungkook rasped as he lifts his head to face her. “They’re family.”

Jungkook loved seeing her happy and he knew that she will never be fully happy if she left her family.

She lifts his head and wipes away the blood on his lips, leaning in to give Jungkook a small kiss. “I’m sorry brother…” she whispers with her eyes closed. Her hands goes around his waist to undo the knot. “I know you too well. If I let him go, you’ll kill him.”

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Shurley’s Surprise - 12x23 Coda Fic

Summary:  He shakes his head at his own foolishness, a broken sob escaping his lips. He’s surprised he can feel anything right now. He’d watched the blade rip through Castiel’s chest, watched Lucifer smirk at him as the lo- as his best friend’s grace burned out and his wings burned into the ground. He lets out a sigh, looking up at the sky again. Fuck it. He’s too damn old for this. Lucifer had smirked at him as the love of his life’s wings had burned into the ground.

Read here on AO3


Featherless. Bent. Broken.

Please, Chuck, please come back. I need you to bring him back. I need him.

“You stupid fucking son of a bitch. We told you the plan. We told you. We had it under control. And you waltzed right the fuck in there and got yourself killed. You fucking idiot, Cas. Damn it.” He ignores the breaks in his voice and the tears rolling down his cheeks, opting to focus his eyes on the sky again. He takes a few deep breaths, his eyes fluttering closed after a moment.

He was gone. Castiel was really and truly gone. Of course, it felt like that every time, but this time… This time was different. His wings were burned on the ground around Dean, and Chuck… Chuck flapped off to who knows where with Amara. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that Chuck wouldn’t be of any help to them.

So this was it. This was the last time. Castiel’s final death. Hardly seemed fitting, him being stabbed in the back by Lucifer. The one problem they’d never managed to take care of. Of course that’s the thing that would come back to bite them in the ass. Things were too good. Mom was back and Cas… Cas was somewhat normal again.

Dean had gotten too happy. That was his mistake. He’d let himself believe after Ketch’s death that they would all come out of this okay. That somehow, they’d all make it back to the bunker and Lucifer would be iced and they could focus on the Nephilim problem. They’d put the Bunker back in order, and Castiel and Mary could move into their rooms permanently. Dean would cook and they would all hunt, and everything would be okay.

He shakes his head at his own foolishness, a broken sob escaping his lips. He’s surprised he can feel anything right now. He’d watched the blade rip through Castiel’s chest, watched Lucifer smirk at him as the lo- as his best friend’s grace burned out and his wings burned into the ground. He lets out a sigh, looking up at the sky again. Fuck it. He’s too damn old for this. Lucifer had smirked at him as the love of his life’s wings had burned into the ground.

He rubs a hand over his face, looking down at the angel again. In reality, he’d known. For a while. I mean, who makes a mixtape for a platonic friend? Of course, Castiel hadn’t known the meaning of it, but… it’d made Dean feel better. Like he’d actually expressed himself. Of course he couldn’t do it with words. He’d only ever said those words to his mother in the last… however many years since all this shit started.

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2

Grzegorz Klaman 

Fear and Trembling, 2007

“ In Fear and Trembling, Grzegorz Klamans project for FAU (Florida Atlantic University ), several kneeling human figures, cloaked in amorphous black robes, slowly and repeatedly hit their heads against the wall. Their behavior recalls states of trance or hysteria. A black, sticky substance has spilled down the wall from the large, horizontal windows located high above the floor and the figures, imposing its blackness on the space, the figures, and the viewer. The title, Fear and Trembling, is borrowed from the Danish Philosopher Soren Kierkegaards writing on religious devotion and the boundaries of individual sacrifice and internal conflict…”

via: e-flux.com

It’s Okay. I’m Here. ||Carl Grimes x Reader|| Spoilers!!

Warning: Nightmares, Death, and Fluff!!!!!!!!!!

Request: You are probably sick of Carl…. I am so so sorry… But could you pls write an imgine were the reader is having nightmares and bad insomnia and he helps her thanl you so much… Sorry just not been sleeping well.

A/N: I could never get sick of Carl!!!!

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Y/N PoV

Lucille came crashing down on Glenn’s head as the moment went so slow. The crack of his skull echoed in my head and his words.

“Maggie I’ll find you.” The words echoed throughout my head until everything went black. Glenn’s bloody face appeared in front of my vision with Abe right next to him.

“Y/N why did you do this to me.” Abe asked in a slurred voice. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I didn’t mean it.” I replied yelling for them to forgive me. 

“You did this. It’s your fault, I thought you were my friend. I saved you and what did you do to help me. Nothing!” Glenn yelled walking around my kneeling figure. 

“It should have been you. You should have died instead of us.” Abe said kneeling down blood dripping on your head and clothes. 

“Y/N! You need to wake up!” Someone yelled throughout the air. 

“No Y/N You need to stay here with us.” Glenn and Abe said simultaneously.

“Y/N!”

My eyes whipped open to see a frantic Carl. Glenn was gone and so was Abe and I was back in Alexandria.

“What happened? Where- What-” 

“Y/N you had a nightmare. It’s okay.” Carl said looking down at your disheveled state. 

“But they were here. It’s my fault. I did this.” I said looking around Carl my room trying to get a grip on what was real and what wasn’t. 

“Y/N we’ll never leave.”

“We’re still here. Look at us. LOOK AT US!!” 

Abe and Glenn stood in the corner blood dripping down their faces. A blood curdling scream left my throat making Carl freak out. 

“Get away! Leave, you’re dead! Leave!” I yelled trying to push away from Carl but he wouldn’t let go. 

“Y/N it’s okay. Shh calm down. They’re gone don’t pay attention to them listen to the sound of my voice.” Carl said soothingly. He rocked us back and forth on the bed. 

“They were here. They told me that it was my fault and that it should have been me. Carl it was my fault I should have-” 

“No Y/N it’s your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn’t your fault. They loved you and they would never say such words to you.” Carl said kissing my forehead. My body was tense and alert from my dream and the appearance of Glenn and Abraham. “Relax Y/N. It’s wasn’t real.” Carl said rubbing my back calming me down. 

“Okay. Okay.” I said leaning into him. 

“Alright Y/N let’s lay you down. I’ll be just across the hall if you need me okay?” He asked covering me up after I laid down. 

“Okay. Thank you Carl.” I said melting into the warmth of my bed. 

“No problem Y/N.” Carl said smiling but his smile didn’t match his eyes. His eyes had a look of sadness in them. As Carl started to walk away I began to feel scared again. 

“Carl!?” I exclaimed shooting up in my bed. 

“Yeah?” Carl said popping his head back in the door frame. 

“C-Can you stay with me?” I asked sheepishly. 

“Of course. You mind if I take off my shirt?” Carl asked walking back to your bed.

“No. Whatever makes you comfortable.” I said waiting for him to hop into bed. I watched as he turned around and lifted up his shirt and as his back muscles contracted at the action. I turned my head and blushed at he turned around and caught my staring. As he lifted the covers up I remembered I didn’t have pants on but Carl didn’t seem to care. The bed dipped at his weight making me tilt towards him a little more. 

“Do you mind?” Carl said lifting his arm over my waist. 

“Please.” I said scooting back into him. His long arm secured around my waist making me feel safe. A tear slid down my face thinking about Glenn and a small sob escaped my lips. 

“It’s okay Y/N. Shh. Relax I’m here and I won’t let you go.” Carl said pulling me closer to him. 

“Thank you Carl.” I said turning around so I could snuggle into his bare chest. 

“It’s okay Y/N because I love you.” Carl said sweetly. 

.

.

.

“I love you too.” 

This one was a lot of fun to write. And I’m sorry to hear that the person who requested this has been having sleeping problems. Just think about Carl snuggling up with you at night. That’s what I do. No joke. Okay anyways sorry it’s so short. But I love you guys and keep requesting. Thank you guys and I love you!!!!!