“The kingdom of Renais lies in ruins, shattered by a sudden invasion from a former ally. Guide the royal heirs, Eirika and Ephraim, on their twin quest to rebuild Renais and discover the dark secret behind the war that has torn their homeland apart.”
She looked at their filthy hair and scraggly beards and reddened eyes, at their dry, cracked, bleeding lips. Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb’s men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry.
Summary: Bucky Barnes is your asshole supervisor until you go out for drinks with him.
Warnings: like a tiny bit angsty, i don’t even think there’s swear words except asshole, and uhh fluff
A/N: this is like an asshole bucky who isnt actually an asshole cause bucky barnes is pure
Almost incoherent apologies fell from your mouth as you weaved in-between people and traffic trying to get to the small coffee shop you worked at. You couldn’t have been anymore glad that you decided to wear running shoes instead of your usual flats as you were darting from across town in only ten minutes.
You had stayed up much later than you intended binge watching your favourite show and didn’t remember to set an alarm, thankfully your body clock managed to wake you up somewhat on time.
You also knew if you got fired from this job you’d never hear the end of it from your father, who got you the position. He was friends with one of the supervisors that worked there, Bucky, and claimed that he was the nicest man on Earth.
Unfortunately, it turns out Bucky is an asshole to you. You really tried your best to be nice to him and you don’t know if you ever did anything rude to him, but something about you ticked him off clearly.
A curse to trap someone who has deeply hurt you in a never ending “war zone…”
- Something to start a fire. ( Matches are suggested. )
- Water or something else to put out a fire/Somewhere safe to light a candle/Etc, Etc.
- A candle that you feel is right for this curse. ( I suggest black. )
- Something representing the person you want to curse and/or something representing what they’ve done to you. Make sure you can safely burn these. ( I suggest not putting in too much effort into making this unless it feels right to do so. )
1. Prepare what you’ve made as your representation. Double check to make sure you can be safe while performing this curse. You’re trying to hurt them, not yourself!
2. Take your match/lighter, light it, and focus on the flame for a second. Visualize your hatred and pain manifesting in this flame. Light your candle. 3. Focusing on the flame, pick up your representation, and either speak or focus on these words:
• “ You have damaged me, more than words can say. Be warned: there will be no peace in this world built on war. "
4. Burn your representation, make sure you keep an eye on it till it is done. 5. Blow out your candle, and listen to some calming music/take a bath/relax. Good job!
A thing you probably don’t know about me is that sometimes I get in this mood where I don’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment binge-watching House, M.D. for several days at a time. I was on ep 2.15, “Clueless,” AKA that one where Wilson crashes at House’s place for a while, when inspiration struck and this Sterek drabble happened. Or… It’s almost 2k words, so maybe it’s a bit more than a drabble, BUT it’s still a drabble in spirit. (Rated T.)
It’s almost midnight when Derek finally shoulders on his coat, locks his office door, and steps out, only to spot Stiles crouched in front of the vending machine at the end of the hall, whacking the glass with the heel of his palm and muttering darkly.
Derek can’t just ignore him; he never can. (It’s a bit of a problem, and everyone in the hospital seems to know it, except for Stiles.) Before he knows it, he’s changed tracks and walked right over. “What are you still doing here?”
Stiles sits back on his heels to look up at him. “Bob ate my dollar and I’m feeling petty so I’m trying to get it back.”
“Bob?” Derek asks, a split second before he remembers that Stiles named the vending machine. It’s just this kind of thing that makes Derek feel guilty for sometimes looking at Stiles’ mouth a little too long, or pausing to let his eyes follow Stiles’ progress down the hall. Stiles isn’t a kid or anything, but he’s still only 26 to Derek’s 32, and he’s still got a year of residency to go. A lot of times, like when he’s jamming out to his iPod while he looks over lab work or doing stupid stuff like naming the vending machines, he seems to Derek more like a college kid than a grown man with a medical license and a house and a girlfriend.
Stiles goes back to hitting the vending machine, and Derek remembers why he originally came over here. “Didn’t your shift end at 7?”
Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek tries very, very hard not to imagine him making that same face in certain… other contexts. “What, you got my schedule memorized now, Dr. Hale? I’m flattered.”
It would make Derek’s life a lot easier if so much of what Stiles said didn’t come out sounding so flirtatious. Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting.”
You know that feeling you get on tour when you realize you are in the same ROOM as Taylor and every nerve ending in your body is on fire and you’ve never been happier in your life? I love that feeling.
Forest fires swell inside me.
But remember that fires cleanse. Feel how new growth sprouts from the ashes.
Smell the smoky memories of every time you learned how to be human a little more. We are on a never ending journey of rainstorms and forest fires and sunsets and some days will float by and others will drag on but all days will be whole.