there is a knife on the nightstand

It’s A Meta Crisis!

Anon: Hi first off I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could do supernatural story were the reader is obsessed with the show but one day she wakes up in the bunker and she finds out she’s Sam and Dean’s sister but starts to freak out and her ‘brothers’ thinks she may be sick or tries to calm her down. Sorry if that’s confusing <3

Nonnie, I need to apologize for taking so long to get this out, but I hope this was worth the wait. Like always, please message/leave something in my inbox with comments, questions, criticism, if you want to be tagged, etc. Enjoy everyone!

Summary: You are a Sister!Winchester writer and you wake up inside the Bunker one day.

Warnings: None (yes, I know the gif is a typewriter, but it’s hard to find good gifs!)

Tags: @the-third-winchester-warrior @winchesters-favorite-girl @jensen-jarpad @daughters-and-winsisters @lil-sister-winchester

Originally posted by mr-nikolo

“Aaaand, you’re done.” You say the final words of your newly written story aloud as you type them. You wrap your blanket bundle around you a little tighter and click the post button. “All right. You’re up for the whole world to see.” You sigh in relief, happier than ever to get this story out. School is about to start up, something you’re not looking forward to in any way, shape, or form.

You close your laptop slowly. You wish the magic of the holiday break didn’t have to end. The sleeping in, the bliss of not knowing what to do for a whole day, not being sure whether it was Monday or Friday. It was heaven.

You look at the clock. 11:08. Well, if you are going to get any sort of sleep for the early day tomorrow, now was as good a time as any to count sheep. You turn off your light and flop down on your bed. You don’t bother to change clothes or take off your shoes for that matter; you’d be wearing the same outfit to school the next day anyways, so why bother?

You turn your head to look around the sights of your room. A Supernatural poster from season 8 hangs on the far wall. Nearby that, you can see the different ‘hunting’ accessories you had collected over the years, scattered all around your bedroom. Some came from bygone Halloweens, others as holiday and birthday gifts. The old pocketknife with the Men of Letters symbol you carved into the handle, the iron sculpture you pilfered from a garage sale, your stashes of salt and homemade goofer dust, and the leather bag that you used for a hex bag in cosplay. A stack of plaid and flannel shirts sits piled under the poster. You’re particularly proud of the angel blade you had ‘forged’ from moldable plastic beads.

You smile, dreaming about your made up life of being the Winchester’s sister. It’s easier to gain story inspiration through dreaming fanfiction. Oh, the hunts, the magic, the creatures, the excitement, the strong sense of family. Every little aspect about it. Just, Sam, Dean, and you. Against the whole world…

Even before you wake up, you can sense something’s wrong. It’s cold. Colder than your room. You feel around for your blanket to pull up to your face. You freeze.

They’re not yours.

Your eyes open immediately. You sit up cautiously. Did I just get kidnapped? you wonder silently. A dark ceiling and plain walls meet your tired eyes that clearly do not belong to you.

You’re not in your bedroom anymore.

The walls are windowless, an odd bookshelf in the corner. Your eyes scan along the book titles: Mythology and Lore, The Official Book of Exorcisms, Shapeshifters vs. Skinwalkers Vol. 1. The entirety of the bookcase was covered with more scrolls and books like these.

“Okay…little creepy…” You glance around the room, suddenly feeling a sense of either paranoia or excitement. You’re not sure yet. The floor is made not of your soft brown-beige carpet, but a hard floor instead. The most off-putting thing is the smell; it’s a mix of air freshener and dust. Overall, pretty musty. Definitely not the smell of the scented candle at home.

Sounds are pretty much nonexistent. There was always some noise in your home. A passing car on the outside street, siblings arguing in the kitchen over who’s turn it was to use the toaster for Pop-Tarts, or the neighbor’s cat yowling in terror after being chased up a tree by a bullying squirrel.

You peer over the edge of a plain bed. There’s a large wooden chest with leather straps on it. Sort of a trunk really. You’ve never seen this before, but it’s familiar. You abruptly realize you have seen it before.

In your head.

Pieces of everything about this room fly together. The books on the shelf. The floor. The lack of windows and noise. The smell. Waking up in a different bed. Everything is how you’ve imagined it in your stories. You’ve pictured this room in your mind a thousand times, creating different story upon story in this setting.

This is the room you created for the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.

“That’s not possible…” Only one way for you to be sure. You rub your hands on the top of this mysterious box. If every other detail is right, then this would prove what was going on. Your eyes look down apprehensively, suddenly feeling a series of grooves on the lid of the trunk. You gasp aloud, trying everything to keep from screaming. A six-pointed star is burned into the top of the chest. A Star of Aquarius, better known to you as the symbol for the Men of Letters.

“Just like I wrote.” Your whole body is trembling. Jury’s still out on whether your shaking is from panic or happiness. You look down at yourself. You’re still in the same outfit you fell asleep in: black and white plaid shirt over a black tank top and ripped blue jeans. Your feet are still in the brown faux leather boots from Shopko. You’d tastefully nicknamed them your ‘Winchester Boots’. Little did you know that you’d actually be wearing them in the freaking Bunker.

You slap yourself. Ow. “Okay. Real. Not dreaming. I’m…in…the Bunker.” You turn around in place in a daze. A frightened happy smile stretches across your face. “I’m in the Bunker. The Bunker.”

You take a look at a wooden nightstand. You pull open the drawer cautiously, fearing what might be inside. Inside sits a knife, exactly like your knife in your bedroom. Your other bedroom The not Supernatural one. All the way down to the Men of Letters symbol carved inside. Which makes sense; you’ve based so much of your stories on yourself. Under that sits a small framed but faded photo. You immediately know who it should be, but your curiosity gets the better of you. You gently pick it up.

It’s happy photo of the little baby you sitting on your Dad’s shoulders. Not John Winchester’s shoulders. Your father. Riiight. The sister I created was adopted, not a Winchester by blood, you remind yourself. You stare intently at the picture, recalling the backstory you’d given your Win!sister.

A father turned into an encantado and the mom was a good friend of John Winchester so she teamed up with him in the hunting life. Y/N, became real close to Sam and Dean, helping out with research in her early years and later learning the trade. Teaming up wasn’t a constant thing, but enough to where the boys considered her their sister. John ended up killing Y/N’s dad when he showed up years later. Sam and Dean meeting up became less and less until it stopped completely when Y/N helped Sam get to Stanford. Contact resumed at Roadhouse with Ellen. Her mom died when the Gates of Hell were opened while Y/N was young. She’s been in Sam and Dean’s care since-

You’re cut off by a sudden, yet soft, knocking on the door. “Hey, Y/N.”

You know that mellow voice all too well. You gasp loudly and just barely manage to hold on the to the picture before it can shatter. Standing in front of the door is the freaking giant of a man Sam Winchester.

Originally posted by brothersinsync

He looks at you with mild concern. “You okay? Didn’t mean to scare you.” He finishes with a natural smile. “You didn’t answer your phone. Dean and I just finished one weird case. You’re gonna laugh your head off at this one.”

You back up into the side of bed, still not sure whether to be terrified or bouncing off the walls. You can barely hold onto your voice.



Your eyebrows shoot like rockets towards the ceiling. “Sam??”

“Yeah…that’s me.”

“Sam Winchester??”

Sam steps towards you. “Y/N, is something going on?”

“Sam freaking Winchester. In front of me.” You run your twitchy hands through your hair. “Oh gosh, this is happening. This is real. This-this-i-i-it’s. Holy mother flippin’ Metatron. You’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam smiles unsure with a little laugh in his throat. “Y/N, you’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.”

You start gesturing frantically, as you usually did when you fangirled. “Yes yes yes yes, I know I know I know! This i-i-i-is. This is unbelievable. I mean, you’re right there and I’m right here in this room and-” You abruptly stop and take a look at Sam, who is slowly backing towards the exit. “I’ve gone meta, haven’t I?”

“Uh…Dean!” Sam shouts over his massive shoulder.


The distant reply of another voice you know hits your ears and a dorky grin stretches across your face. “Oh man, Dean’s here too. Oh boy. Oooookay…”

“C’mere for a sec!” Sam gives you a funny look. “Just…stay right here for a minute.”

You sit down on the bed, beyond happy to comply. “Okay!” Your energy level is off the charts.

Sam walks out of the room with a slightly faster pace than you expect. You hear his footsteps recede to where they’re undetectable. You get up off the bed, a whole new strength coursing through you; in your sudden excitement to see the Winchesters, you ignored the fact that not only are you in a different place, but you’re different too. Your body is roughly the same height, maybe a little taller. But you’re extremely fit now. You feel muscles bulging out of your arms, calves, and torso. It’s a whole new thing. You’re still around the same size as you were, but more of a body-builder version rather than a light exerciser.

You run your hands along the slightly bulging muscles in your upper arms. “Cool.” Your eyes sidle to an unopened closet. A new thought hatches in your mind. “I wonder…” You walk over and open the door, adrenaline and adventure filling your energetic body. You smile. Inside, behind the rack of clothing, is the set of weaponry you dreamt of always having. Shotguns and rifles and swords and pistols and ninja stars and salt rounds and-

You lay your eyes on the two weapons you crave the most: the Enochian carved angel blade from your I See Wings series and three sets of throwing knives you imagined: One for demons, one for creatures, one for witches. Each knife set was enchanted with spells you had found in the Bunker, designed with silver or iron or salt.

At least, that’s how you wrote it. You still hope it’s true.

You pry one out from it’s meticulously crafted case. Oh, the glory of holding one of those babies is indescribable. The black leather grip, the smoothness of the knife, the simplistic beauty of the curvature. You never knew how long you waited for this moment. And your new body is just begging you to try the knife out. You curl it back almost daintily, aim and…

Originally posted by twoidjitsinthesalvageyard

Before you can let your blade loose, Dean himself comes striding into your room. He’s on guard instantly when he sees you with the knife. “Woah, Y/N.” He rushes over to your side and grabs your wrist. “If you wanna throw, we’ve got the shooting range, not your room.”

You stare at him in utter shock, that goofy fangirl smile coming back onto your face. “Dean?” you whisper. Your eyes grow wide. “You’re…real…”

Dean knits his eyebrows together. He scoffs and sits you down on the bed by your shoulders. “Course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You can see Sam standing in the door, hesitant to come in the room. Your eyes flick rapidly between the two of them. “I’m-I’m really here? This isn’t some sort of…prank or-or joke or…” You look into the Winchester’s eyes, ever growing concern stretching across their faces. “I mean…you’re both real…” you breathe out.

Dean sets your throwing knife on the bed. “Y/N, are you high?” The seriousness in his voice throws you off guard.

“No! No, no, nope!” you yelp. “Definitely not high.” You scan around the room distractedly, trying to ground yourself on something. “Not high…definitely…not…”

“Uh-huh…” Dean clearly doesn’t believe you. He turns to Sam. “And you just found her like this?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on-”

“What was the last thing that happened to you?” you interrupt. If you can figure out what just happened to the boys, then maybe you can figure out how you got here.

Dean takes a breath. “Well, you wanted to stay and get some research done. We just got back from some weird ass musical about our lives.”

Season 10 episode 5, you immediately think. “So, you’re not a demon anymore and,” you point to Sam, “you just killed Calliope then, right?”

Sam squints at you. “How do you know that?”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” The expression on Dean’s face just melts your poor little fangirl heart. The concern, the honesty. Ugh.

“I…I don’t know. I just woke up here and…” You struggle to find the right words when a lightbulb goes off. You stand up off the bed. “Do you remember when Balthazar zapped you two to an alternate universe?”

Both Sam and Dean groan. “Damn, that was bad,” Dean complains.

“Well, think of this as a reverse one of those.” You grin sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the room as it dawns on the boys. Sam speaks up first.

“You mean…you’re from…”

“Not exactly.” You rub the back of your neck. “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I write stories about the show Supernatural. Mostly about if Sam and Dean Winchester had a sister…” you fade out seeing as Dean’s head looks like it’s about to explode.

“Wait, you what??”

“In the show, it’s just…well, you two. But, I began writing my own stories imagining if you two had a sister. And I guess I’m having some kind of meta crisis right now, apparently. I woke up here in the world I created.”

“In the body of our sister.” Dean sounds more hostile towards you than before.

“Not exactly. It’s sort of a reverse Balthazar situation with a bit of Chuck mixed in.”

Sam looks the least freaked out out of everyone in the room. “Okay. So, you wrote about…us and if we had a sister? Why if?”

“In my life or universe or whatever, Y/N Winchester doesn’t exist except in the stories I write.” You take a look at Dean who looks like he could Hulk out on you. You raise your hands defensively. “I based her on me though. So, it’s not like I’m possessing her; I am her. Sort of.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You wrote her so you are her?”

“Pretend you rewrote the Lord of the Rings with you in them. But, you didn’t want to name yourself after you, so you came up with another name. Like…Jim. Then you find yourself in that story you wrote as Jim. But you based Jim off of you so it is you in it’s own way.”

“This is already making my brain sick.” Dean rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“No, I get it. That makes sense.” You silently thank Sam for saving your bacon.

“The only question is how I got here. I literally went to sleep and woke up here. Nothing different than normal.”

“Okay…if you were writing this, as a story, what would you explain it as?”

You put a hand up to the back of your neck, a habit when you try to concentrate. “Well, if I was writing this, I’d probably be dealing with a spell of some kind, but nothing crazy happened to me last night. So,” you begin to pace, “that leaves me with…oh. Great.” You sigh and purse your lips together.


“Hex bags. I have one in my room.” The Winchesters continue to stare at you. You sigh. “Not a witch, it’s just for cosplay and Halloween. But, I didn’t sweep my room last night. Someone could’ve swapped it out for a real one.”

Dean tips his head up to the ceiling. “I freaking hate witches.”

“Well, it might not be a witch.”

“What do you mean?”

“A witch is only one idea. It might be a tulpa, or a really messed up spirit, or-” You stop, a new idea entering your head. You close your eyes. “Ah, crap.” You raise your hand in a ‘shut-up’ gesture, simply going over to a tv set in the corner of the room and turning it on.

Dean leans forward on the bed. “You gotta kidding me.”

“Perks of writing your own world. You get a pretty good hunch on who did it.” A Casa Erotica scene starts setting up.

Sam points to the screen. “But, he died.”

Originally posted by your-not-invisible-to-me

A very familiar waiter rips off his mustache. “Think again, boys. And girl.” Gabriel pops out through the tv screen landing in front of you and the Winchesters. A weird combination of a smile and an ‘exasperated-parent face’ hits your face. The archangel looks at you. “How do they do it on BBC?” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss me?”

Struck By Lightning

Read it on AO3

By Maknatuna

Castiel gets struck by lightning. It has a weird effect on him and he’s forced to speak out his thoughts, feelings, and desires aloud.

Words: 7502, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

It was a stormy night. The wind was howling and the rain was pouring down like a raging ocean. Castiel was flying near the black, ominous clouds when thunder rumbled and rolled. Something flashed. It was a white, blinding light and the angel closed his eyes for a few seconds. Instantly he felt that something hit him and sent electric sparks through his body. Castiel lost his balance and plummeted down with a terrifying speed.

The Winchester brothers were staying in a small town called Hemingford, which is a little place nestled in Nebraska. There had recently been killings there, caused by a shape shifter, but the hunters already took care of that. They were still at the hotel and planned to leave in the morning.

It was 4 am and the brothers were in a deep sleep when something crashed down in their room, knocking the nightstand over and breaking a lamp.

“The hell?” Dean muttered, immediately sitting up in his bed and grabbing Ruby’s knife, which he hid under his pillow while he slept, just in case.

Keep reading

Taehyung and Jungkook Reaction to You Trying Running Away From Him After Finding Out He is in a Gang

Part of Trying to leave him

Part I, Part II, Part III


B.A.P: Part I, Part II, Part III ; BTS: Part I, Part II, Part III; EXO: Part I, Part II, Part III; Got7 {coming soon}; Monsta X {coming soon}


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meganwinchester1999  asked:

Hell yes, Kim! You deserve every one of your followers as you are absolutely amazing and a fucking fantastic fanfic writer. An early congrats is in order and for the Wincest fun how about a bit of knife play with the boys?

“Come on, Sammy. I need it.”

And Sam’s done for. He’ll give Dean anything he wants when he begs like that. Plus, Dean looks fucking gorgeous right now, spread out on the bed, creamy skin glowing from the effort it’s taking him to stay there while Sam is standing still, just watching.

Sam nods and brushes his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

The look of relief of Dean’s face makes Sam’s chest tighten, and he wants to stop, wants to hug Dean instead, wants to hold him and make it all go away. But that isn’t going to make Dean feel better tonight.

So instead, he picks up the knife from the nightstand, flips it in his hands a couple of times for Dean to see.

“Where?” he asks.

Dean doesn’t  hesitate. “Anywhere.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Even here?” He presses the metal to Dean’s throat, sees the movement as Dean swallows hard.

“I trust you” is all Dean says.

“Even…here?” Sam drags the sharp point down Dean’s chest, not stopping until he’s past his stomach and pressing in on Dean’s dick.

Dean groans. “Fuck, Sam, yes. I trust you.”

Sam slides the knife around a bit more before deciding on Dean’s chest, right underneath his tattoo.

At the first scratch, Dean’s coming, letting all of the tension and fear and guilt flood out of him in a rush of blood and come that will leave him wrecked, leave him a gooey, sappy mess.

And Sam’s happy to do it, if it means Dean gets to feel a bit lighter for a while.

Sick Like Me - Part 1/20

Sick Like Me - Part 1

Fic Summary: With unfinished business hanging over your head, being locked up in Arkham is holding you back. However, you have your eye on a certain red-haired maniac, who may be just the person to help you escape and realize your true potential.  Fic Song. Fic Playlist. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Jerome Valeska/Female Reader

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, for a complete list of warnings, visit AO3.

A/N: Since the teaser is doing so well and I’m a couple chapters ahead I thought I’d post part 1. There are a lot of warnings, so I would suggest popping over to AO3 to check them out. Since this is still a work in progress, I will update the tags as needed. What’s listed now is stuff that I know for a fact will happen in the story. Enjoy!

Originally posted by chloequinzel

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The End of All Things (A Preview for the upcoming Antisepticeye X Reader Series)

(( AN: Preview Cause Im Really Nervous 😂

Okay well this takes place way before the story starts and it’s kinda a tester and advice for how I write Anti cause I want it to be decent?

But I guess I can start getting some feedback and my other ones as well since I don’t plan on releasing any until October….

So let me know if you wanna see some NateMare, Gear or Dark previews as well :)

Cause I am way too far ahead in most of these series.

It’s kinda based on what I think these things are. A smol heads up 😬

And soooo this is gonna be nothing like the story… it’s kinda like a little trailer.

And yeah I misspelt things on purpose. Give it more of a child vibe and it’s also supposed to be taken kind of like you’re intruding.

At first, anyhow.    

So yeah! Sorry I am crazy about dramatic details and overuse of extreme detail!!

I would love to get some feedback!!! Both on my writing and the characters!  So lemme know what you think :D

And most importantly  @justwritingscibbles who is first of all, an extremely talented writer but also just a rad human being who agreed to give me feedback! So again, thank you so much!  So go check her blog out!!!

Sorry for the long A/N

And without further ado-))

E N J O Y  T H E  S H O W

Originally posted by lum1natrix

“Happy birthday!”

He chuckled bitterly, swinging himself into the room as he stared at the sleeping figure in darkness, tear stains still remain on her cheeks from the past two hours of sobbing before she fell into her slumber. He even mused how you still sniffled slightly as she turned as he twisted the blade in on his palm, not digging into the flesh but creating a small circle as he pondered his position and options.

So many times he had desired nothing more that slit her throat, deep enough so that you wouldn’t wake back up from the impact of the blade and would die in slumber, blood staining your bedsheet. Or perhaps he would drag it through your arm, cutting out the trace were he once held.

The other half of him, the half she had brought out, screamed at him to just hold you again, feel your flesh, warm and gentle and comfort her. Her to apologize. Beg. Hold him. Comfort. Turn away from your world and back at his with the same wonder you once held.

But he knew better.

It was over.

She didn’t need him.

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anonymous asked:

there's so many of these dialogue prompts that fit jaytim too well aaaaah!!! could you please write something for 19? or just pick one you like especially, i really like what you write!! <3

Ikr?! I really like that list, tbh :D

As for #19, sure! Thank you for your patience, I hope you like this - it’s totally been inspired by this beautiful pic by @tanekore

[Read on AO3]

The rhythmic tapping of fingers on his nightstand was not something Tim usually woke up to. He wasn’t even used to another person being in his room, yet someone was definitely sitting next to his bed. Probably staring at his back and noticing the little jerk he gave as he pulled the blanket around him tighter.

The fingers stopped to move and the room fell silent. No birds sang outside his window and no one was puttering around in the kitchen downstairs. The manor usually was quiet in the early morning, but this silence was different. This silence was thick, putting pressure on Tim in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

He didn’t want to turn. Didn’t want to look over his shoulder to see the person sitting by his bed.

Someone was there, but he didn’t feel them; the only reason he knew they were even in his room had been the tapping. A deliberate sound made by a person that could so easily vanish into nothing… Tim swallowed. Maybe it was just his brain playing tricks on him again. It wasn’t unusual.

Inhaling, he loosened his fists, letting the blanket slip through his fingers. He was just being paranoid. Just imagining things. If he turned back, he would see nothing that hadn’t been there yesterday, just his desk and the cluttered mess made of clothes and games and computer parts.

Tim counted to ten. Then to twenty. Finally, he opened his eyes but didn’t turn, not yet. He still needed to count to another ten or twenty to do that. Staring at the wall his bed faced, he strained his ears. But there really was nothing. Not anymore at least.

He was about to roll on his back when he heard it: a small intake of breath, just a moment before he heard the voice.

“Good morning, detective. I see the assassins failed again.”

With a choked scream, Tim whirled around, backing against the wall as he faced his visitor. The man was big, bigger than Tim and quite a few pounds heavier. His face was hidden by a mask, but his clothes were similar to the ones the assassins last night had worn. Ra’s assassins.

“You’re League,” he hissed, one of his hands fisting the blanket to his chest again.

The other hummed before cocking his head to the side. “In a way. I’m an associate of Talia’s.” Raising a hand to his mask, the man revealed his face. “And Bruce’s.”

Tim’s lungs refused to work. His eyes blinked fast to fight the sudden tears that threatened to spill. He was afraid. Very afraid. This man was dangerous for more than one reason; least of all his League training.


“Replacement.” Jason’s lips drew back into a parody of a smile, baring his teeth.

Tim looked around for a weapon, finding his situation way worse than he’d thought at first. His back was to the wall and his legs were still tangled in the sheets - and this was Jason. Jason Todd. The Robin Bruce had lost and the assassin that had come back years later as Talia’s champion.

“I never understood how Ra’s could be that fascinated with you,” Jason continued, his arms crossed over his chest. His voice seemed almost bored but his gaze stayed on Tim. Without looking away, he reached for something on the nightstand. Something Tim remembered with a sudden shock that settled in his stomach, hot and heavy like a melting stone.

Jason twirled the knife around his fingers, his smile growing lazy. A knife that seemed to belong into his hand, seemed to be more of an extension of his arm than a separate tool.

A knife that Tim had taken from the assassins earlier.

They jumped at the same time, Tim pushing himself off the wall while Jason dived from his chair. It was a close call, but Tim ducked under the swipe, barely keeping the knife from slitting his throat.

Retreating backward was no option and the blankets didn’t allow Tim to do more than tug his legs under him and roll over the mattress. He kicked the offending cloth away as soon as he had put some distance between them.

Jason’s eyes raked over him, his grin back full force when Tim realized he wasn’t wearing any pants.

“I’m… starting to get what he sees in you,” the assassin chuckled, but he raised his head to look at the ceiling. And… was he blushing?

Tim was stupefied. He didn’t move when Jason tugged his chin down to his chest in a jerky parody of a nod, never once looking back at him. The knife landed on the discarded blankets with a soft thud, shocking Tim out of his stupor.

“Hold onto this for me,” Jason said before leaving. “You might need it next time I’m coming for you.”

anonymous asked:

Imagine request - Comforting Tyler after Trent turns on him

- “Ow ow shit!”
- Tyler’s yelps made you wince, as you handed him cold compresses for the angry red welts across his chest
- Just hours before, the man both of you had considered a very close friend, Trent Seven, had viciously attacked Tyler in the middle of the Progress ring, following the loss of their tag titles
- Tyler’s chest was covered in the angry red welts from knife edge chops, his back was bruised from chair shots, as his left arm was in a sling to brace his shoulder
- He was absolutely miserable, propped up on the many pillows of your bed, trying to put on a strong face
- You remained quiet, shuffling around the bedroom to make him comfortable, not knowing what to say to lighten the heavy mood
- He was staring a hole into the wall even as you set down some over the counter pain killers on the nightstand with a large bottle of water
- it wasn’t until you turned to leave that he spoke to you
- “Why would he do something like this?”
- his voice broke at the end of the statement, your heart breaking just little with it
- “I… I don’t know Tyler. I wish I did.”
- He took a shaky breath, wincing at the reminder of his bruised ribs
- “Can you just stay with me a little while? I don’t want to be alone.”
- You could feel your chin wobble and your eyes well with tears as you moved to sit next to him on the bed
- “I’ll stay as long as you need me to Tyler.”

Stockholm Syndrome Ch. 2 // E2!Cisco (Reverb) x Reader

Read Part One

Request: Reverb smut, where he goes to like rob a bank or something and he notices you in the crowd, and he likes what he sees and he takes you with him (unwillingly) and he holds you as ransom, but you both end up starting to like each other and end up being intimate?
A/N: I decided to make this part two of Stockholm Syndrome because I felt like it fit really well! Hope that’s alright!

Warnings: E2 Cisco being (kinda really??) sweet again but like always with the dark side and rough smut duh

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Thank God for Beer

Pairing: Keith/Lance (Voltron)

Word Count: 1229

Summary: The house party me and my friends threw kinda escalated and after throwing out everyone I found this half naked person passed out in my bed but I can’t be bothered to wake them up now so I’m just gonna go to sleep and deal with it in the morning, they are kind of cute anyway AU (from x)

Keith rubbed his face as he leaned against his front door, waiting for everyone to finish fileing out. He was exhausted after tonight’s party, but had the excuse to drink like he wanted, so he was content. It’s a good thing Shiro wasn’t there to see this. He didn’t want to imagine the lecture he’d get for letting things get as out of hand as they did.

“Hey, Keith. Whoever brought the vodka left it. You mind?” Rolo lifted the bottle, which was currently in his hand. Vodka messed with Keith in way too trippy of a way, so he nodded, not caring what ended up happening to it. Besides, it would be less for him to clean the next day. And Rolo was the main reason this party became a thing, for better or worse, and Keith didn’t mind paying back a friend. 

Once his house was finally empty, Keith kicked the plastic cups that were scattered on the floor, glad that at least the floor wasn’t sticky with beer, so that he could make a path to his bedroom. He did take the little bit of effort required to dump a few still filled cups into the sink so he wouldn’t accidentally spill them later, but the rest of it was future Keith’s problem. 

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Children of the Gods: Chapter 5

Back story, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Word count: 3k

Genre: Greek Myth AU

Characters: BTS + EXO + Reader

A/N: Oh look. I’m fancy and I put an authors note~ Hehehe. JK I always do. I just labeled it this time. Anyways I hope you enjoy the newest chapter. I’m currently writing chapter 8 and let me tell you guys the story as gotten so great I can’t even stop writing sometimes. Love ya.


“I’m sorry. What the hell did you just say?” The sound of Hoseok’s voice had nearly startled you. The entire room sat in silence after Suho had made his speech. He wanted you guys to join him? Join him how? That stupid little camp he talked about back on the dock?

“Ok look, you two are sons of Apollo right?” he gestured towards Jimin and Hoseok as he spoke to them. “Apollo has joined Poseidon in this fight. It’s only right that you stand with your parent on the side he supports. I’m building an army I need all the warriors I can get so before Zeus’ side even has the chance to think about winning we can attack. You owe this much to your parent boys.”

“Who the fuck cares if we support our godly parent?” It was your voice this time that cut through the silence. “What have they ever done for us other than provide the second half for us to be born? When have they ever come to help us. Give us words of encouragement during our training? Not everyone gets a chance to have a parent that pays attention to them golden boy.” You spat the last part of your sentence at him like there was dirt in your mouth. Being the son of Poseidon this asshole would never know what it would be like to grow up without a parent. Having your mother taken away from you and your godly father never even acknowledging your existence.

Uncertainty flashed in his eyes, probably not realizing that he should have thought of that before hand. You smirked as you stared at him, your eyes never shifting away. You had to stand your ground in anyway you could, there was no way you were teaming up with this prick.

“We’ll join you.” your blood turned into ice and your eyes widened. “I will join you.” Hoseok put emphasis on “I” as he spoke once again, shaking you to the core. “I will join you and in turn if they decide against it you will not harm any of them. You will let them go.” What was he doing? He couldn’t join them. He promised to run away with you and Yixing, he promised to protect you and he was abandoning you to do the thing the three of you never wanted to do in the first place.

“I’ll join too.” Jimin’s voice was quiet as he spoke, his head hanging low. No. They can’t leave you. Your body began to shake, the reality of what was happening right now weighed you down and you couldn’t even speak.

“Fair enough. We will be taking him in with us. Something has to be done about his shoulder and quickly.” Suho’s voice was more of a muffle to you near the end. Your world faded away from you and you could hear Hoseok talk again about your mind did not register the words. They were all leaving you now, your worst fear was becoming a reality and there was nothing you could do about it.

“No.” a sob broke out of you and your turned your eyes to Hoseok, pleading for him to understand. “No. You can’t leave me. You can’t leave me alone. You promised Hoseok.”

“I know I did.” he wouldn’t look at you, his eyes stared ahead down the hallway as he spoke. The clarity that flooded your mind afterwards was revolutionary for you. Everything made sense to you now, you had to stand for yourself. You couldn’t always rely on Hoseok to be there for you when you needed him, there were times when you were going to have to be there for yourself.

“I’m joining too.”

There wasn’t much after that, all four of you had been swept up and blindfolded. You had sat for ages outside of the apartment buildings and thankfully Suho was the one who had offered you an extra pair of pants. Seeing as though you were blindfolded the struggle to pull the pants on was a lot more complicated than you would have thought. Suho had gotten impatient and pulled the pants up your legs making you jerk away from him and collapse onto the couch once again.

Your bare feet were aching by the time you heard a vehicle pulled up, the gravel of the road digging into the sensitive skin on your feet. You were promptly shoved into what you assumed to be a large van because everyone then climbed in afterwards.

The ride was long and as much as you had tried to fight it your exhaustion took over. You struggled with yourself, prying your eyes open and even digging your nails into your hands to keep you awake. The hours of lost sleep caught up and dragged you into the depths. The only thing you needed right now was for your body to rest and heal.

The next time you woke up the sun was shining right into your face, the light providing a nice warmth that had you humming in delight. You curled up under your covers as you pulled the blankets up closer to your face. You didn’t want to wake up, your entire body was sore and you were definitely not a morning person right now. You listened closely, waiting to hear some sign of life.

“If you’re awake you should probably get out of bed.” your eyes shot open and you stared wide eyed at the body where the voice had quietly drifted from. There in front of you was Suho, comfortably leaning over onto your bed from his chair, holding his head up with his hands. “Morning.”

You jerked back, your muscles tensing up as you shot up into a sitting position. How the hell could you have forgotten what happened? Where the hell were you? Your eyes started scanning the room, taking in your environment and quickly formulating a plan.

“No point in trying to leave. Your leg is still in a pretty bad shape. Our healers worked on it all day yesterday. The muscle was torn pretty badly with that slice. I don’t know how the hell you were even moving around on that leg.”

“I can hold my own thank you.” your narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he reclined in his chair that sat next to your bed.

You were in a small cabin, six beds lining the wall in a straight row. Each one with it’s own nightstand and it’s own locker next to it. Across on the opposite wall were two doors that most likely led to a closet or a bathroom. You turned your attention back to Suho.

“Where is-”

“They’re at breakfast. You know that’s like the only thing you say to me that doesn’t actually have a curse word in it. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to not use such foul language?” you rolled your eyes at the lame attempt to joke.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I’m here to take you to breakfast but it seems to me like you would rather sleep so go right ahead. I will head to breakfast myself.” he stood up from his chair and started making his way out of the cabin.

You shook your head and laid back down in the bed and smiled as the sheets fluttered around you for a brief second. You were so glad to finally be alone with your thoughts. Flashes of last night crossed your mind as you laid there, thinking about the situation you had been forced into.

Never had you been away from Hoseok or Yixing before. They were your family and you cared about them the most but they had all so easily decided to leave you. There was no way you were not going to follow them. Hoseok may have been fine breaking his promise with you but you had to protect Yixing. You were not going to break your promise to him when he had no say as to whether he came or not.

You shut your eyes once again, thinking through how you were going to survive all of this. It wasn’t like you knew where you were so you couldn’t run away. Then again maybe you could run away, it wasn’t that hard for you to survive for a bit before finding a place you and Yixing could stay. Maybe you could even convince Hoseok and Jimin to change their minds.

Wait. What the hell were you doing? You shot up out of bed the best your leg allowed you and pushed the blankets away from you. You had to admit your leg felt better but you could still feel the pain when you worked your muscle. You glanced around the room again, eyeing all of the beds. Why the hell were you just laying in bed when you could be using this alone time to find something, any weapon. Even if it was a butter knife. You quickly weaved your way through the bed, checking the lockers and nightstands next to the beds.

They were all empty except for one. You stood at the very last bed and peered into the locker, an assortment of large plain t-shirts hung up along the bar that made a closet. On the very end, leather armor that was significantly smaller that the t-shirts. You assumed it must have been to form the person’s body instead of hanging loose on them.

Upon further inspection you saw that it was definitely male armor. Female armor was cut differently to allow access for breasts to sit comfortable in the tight hard leather. You remembered your own set of armor back at the academy, it made you look like some avenging warrior or something and you hated it.

Glancing down you saw the assortment of colognes lining the bottom and you bent down to see if there was something behind them. Nope. Just more colognes. You closed the top part of the locker and opened up the bottom. Bingo. There sitting neatly at the bottom of the locker was a long dagger, the hilt of the dagger decorated with ornate jewels.

“Mind if I ask what the hell you are doing going through my locker?” you immediately acted on reflex, grabbing the dagger and spinning, slicing upwards as you heard the last of the sentence being spoken. Your slice stopped abruptly, a tight grip catching your wrist and yanking you up. You screamed as your body was flung onto the bed, your hand releasing the dagger as it was twisted in a hard grasp. Just as quick as it happened it stopped.

You groaned and pulled your wrist to your chest cradling it in your other hand as your eyes drifted towards the voice. Was this a dream or something? You stared straight into large deep brown eyes that were attached to a face that was honestly just as pretty. The boy’s set jawline and this slightly messy hair that fell over his forehead made him seem ageless; like a young boy but at the same time he looked like he could be in his late twenties. What even was this guy?

“Sorry.” you didn’t risk saying anything else as you stood up and moved to make your way back to your own bed. You grew annoyed as the boy stayed firm in his spot, your face mere inches away from him. Your eyes refused to meet his as you stood there, your eyes falling on his collarbones instead. The collar of his large t-shirt swooped down to reveal his very defined and very prominent collar bones. “Can I please get by.”

“You haven’t answered my question.” you were growing impatient now and finally looked into those eyes. Hell why did he have such nice eyes?

“I was looking for a weapon that I could use to kill whoever gets in my way.” you narrowed your eyes at him. Would he move now? You adjusted your stance to seem more intimidating, balling up your fist and lowering your arms by your side, meeting his stare head on with an icy one of your own.

His eyes raked down your body and stopped at your leg, blatantly staring at the silver scar that marked your wound right below the edge of the shorts you were in. His eyes traveled back up your body till he was locking eyes with you again, the ghost of a smirk forming on his lips.

“Tell you what.” you flinched when he leaned closer, his body tilting sideways a little and his head adjusting to keep staring at you. “You can take this if you follow my advice.” the dagger came into your line of sight, the hilt pointed at you as his long fingers wrapped delicately around the blade.

“What’s the advice?”

“Wear pants from now on. You wouldn’t want your enemies to see your weakness.” He slowly stretched his arm out a fraction, offering you the dagger “Go on. I have plenty more to defend myself with if I decide to get in your way again.”

You rolled your eyes as you took the dagger from him, carefully drawing it from his hand as not to hurt him. He stood there a second longer before stepping to the side, giving you room to squeeze past him from between the two beds. Your feet carried you back to your bed as you clutched onto the dagger. This weapon was your life line now and you needed it desperately. It was the only thing that would get you out of this place.

“You have a nice technique. A strong form too.” his voice rang out in the cabin again, the soft timber of his voice flooding your ears and making goosebumps form on your arms and legs. “Your friends said they would bring you back some breakfast so you wouldn’t have to get up. They were talking about how well your leg might be doing. Now I guess I know what they were talking about. Surprised you were able to move that fast with an injury like that.”

“I was trained well.” it wasn’t a lie. You were trained well. You were given the best instructors of the academy as private tutors as well as attended all the normal classes so you didn’t stand out. You didn’t want people pegging you as special, that would only bring attention and you would rather hide in the dark recesses of a corner. The only thing that irked you was that he was obviously trained better. He was stronger and faster than you, it didn’t seem like it took any effort to stop you at all when he had grabbed your wrist. This guy was someone you were going to have to watch out for.

“Guess who brought breakfast!” you jumped as the door to your cabin burst open and your two weirdly energetic friends stormed in. Jimin made his way to you first, his smile stretched across his face and causing his eyes to form little crescent shapes and his already puffy cheeks to puff out more. “Thank the gods you’re awake! You were out all day yesterday!”.

“Good morning Jimin.” your returned his smile as you took the plate of food out of Hoseok’s hands.

“Hey. You feeling any better? How’s the leg?” Hoseok sat at the foot of the bed and you quickly cast your eyes away from him as he asked the questions.

“Fine.” You quickly shoved the piece of bacon into your mouth as an excuse to not have to talk anymore. You were still mad at him and you were determined to let him know it. You shifted your weight and pulled the blankets over your legs before continuing to eat, the cabin now falling in silence.

The food was wonderful. You hadn’t had such a nice piece of bacon before, the thin almost tasteless strip at the academy being the only bacon you had eaten in ages. The rest of the food mirrored the bacon in it’s deliciousness; was deliciousness even a word? You would have to worry about that later. If this place gave you food like this everyday then maybe you could stretch your stay a little longer to enjoy the simple luxury.

“You certainly look better.” You looked up at Jimin when he spoke, seeing him wiggle his way out of his tennis shoes and sliding into the bed, lifting the blanket up and laying it in your lap as he had done during the days he was at the academy with you.

Jimin’s bed back then was your bed and your bed was Jimin’s bed. You two were practically inseparable when you were little. You would always hide under your blankets late at night and whisper to each other about things little kids always whispered about. It was so late however that you two would eventually just end up passing out in the same bed, your heads at the foot of the bed and the sheets covering both of you completely.

“Yeah I feel better. My leg doesn’t hurt as much either so whatever they did to it yesterday must have really worked. I can walk normally now at least.” Jimin’s giggle brought your own bubbling up in your chest. You had to admit that there wasn’t anyone you had missed more in your entire life than Jimin.

“Don’t worry I’m sure you will be back to kicking asses in no time.” you actually did laugh at that. It was funny how easily you could just be with Jimin. You were guarded other times around everyone else except Hoseok and Yixing. But even with those two you had a sense of worry, a sense of fear that you could lose them. Jimin just seemed to you like someone who would never leave. Until he actually did.

You both fell silent as a figure passed through your vision. You looked up towards the door in time to see the other boy leaving the cabin, closing the door behind him quietly as he made his leave. One thing you noticed that you didn’t seem to catch before, the guy moved so quietly it was like he was walking on air.

“Ahhhh. I see you have already met Jungkook then.”


“Yeah Jeon Jungkook. Apparently, according to some at breakfast, the son of Ares.” Ares? Hell… that would explain his skill before. Alright. Jeon Jungkook, son of Ares, you officially made it on my radar.

Dialogue prompts number 3


Bucky was awake, and at first he didn’t know why until he heard a knock at his door. A short glance to the clock on his nightstand showed 2:48am. He sighted. Whoever dared to interrupt him tonight better had a very good reason for it.
For a moment he considered the knife under the pillow, but a intruder wouldn’t knock, so he sleeply walked to the door to open it. Clint was standing outside of his room, dressed in his old, worn out, purple hoodie and a motorbike helmet under his arm, and was the least person Bucky expected to see.
“Why are you here, it’s like three in the morning?”
“I missed you.” Clint’s voice sounded so small and tired, that Bucky swallowed his joke about bad luck and instead pulled him into a hug. “Change and than let’s go back to sleep.”
Five minutes later Clint’s smaller body was pressed against Bucky’s who was holding him tight.
“Nightmares?” he asked quietly.
He pulled him in even closer.
“Let’s try to sleep now. We shouldn’t look sleep-deprived on our wedding day!”

Illya Request

Could you do a Illya x Reader where Illya likes her but doesn’t know how to tell her and later on a mission the reader gets tortured and very hurt (nearly dies) in front of Illya and later when she recovers all of the team is checking in on her, but mostly Illya bc he feels guilty? sorry I know that was a long request

“Peril, aren’t you Russians suppose to be tough,” Solo asked him as they got ready for the mission. Illya sent him a fierce look. “I’m asking because you seem like a nervous middle school boy who can’t even look at the girl he likes. Do the team, and your country, a favor and just tell Y/N you like her already.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Illya said with a stone cold look.

“Sure,” Napoleon scoffed, “but you should think about telling her, I mean if you did like her. In this line of work you never know what could happen.”

“Boys,” you greeted opening the door to the room they were in, “are you ready to go? We’ve got a mission to complete.”

“We’ll be out in one second,” Illya told you.

“See you at the car,” you smiled and left the room.

The plan was that Gabby and Solo would scale the building and search the top floor for the documents that Waverly tasked your group with finding. You and Illya were tasked with taking out the system and guards on the main level of the building. You got the security system down easily and accompanied Illya in taking out the agents on the floor.

With all the agents one the floor you and Illya smiled at each other, you had taken them all out. Suddenly a shrieking sound echoed through the first floor sending you on your knees clutching your ears- but it didn’t help. The last thing you saw was Illya struggling to walk towards you as he covered his ears.


When you came to there was a bright white light shining right in your eyes. You went to throw a hand up but found them chained to your side. You struggled but your feet and arms were bound on the table. “Y/N,” you looked up when you heard your name being called, it was Illya who was chained across from you. “Are you ok?”

“Illya, what happened?”

“I…I don’t know. There was this awful sound and we both passed out. I woke right before you”

“While you took out my guards I used one of my prototypes to take you out,” a man entered the room behind you so only Illya could see him.

“What do you want?” Illya’s jaw and fists were clenched. You looked at him worrying who it was and what was going on but Illya’s eyes were locked on the man.

“For starters, I want my documents back that your friends took. Other than that I just thought it fitting that since you took out so many of my men I take out two of your teams,” the snide man came into your view now as he stood between you and Illya. “So, where are my documents?”

“Go to hell,” you spat at him.

“Oh, feisty. I like it.”

“If you’re going to kill us just do it. We aren’t going to tell you where your documents are so get it over with.”

“If you insist,” he walked over to a tray and started picking up and looking at instruments. “And I guess I could start with you too; if you prefer Miss.”

Illya pulled and struggled against his restraints, “Don’t touch her,” he yelled.

“Oh,” the man said amused, “and why is that?”

“If you touch her I’ll kill you,” Illya told him, still trying to break free of his restraints. “And that’s not a threat, that’s a promise.”

“I find that hard to believe,” the man held eye contact with Illya and before either of you two could process anything he shoved a blade into your stomach. A small noise left your mouth at the sudden pain while Illya was yelling swears in English and Russian and struggling to break free. “See, what can you do about anything I do?”

“Hurt me as much as you want but don’t touch her,” Illya said through gritted teeth.

Blood was still pooling out of you even with the knife still in your stomach. A scalpel skidded up the fun length of your arm and Illya yelled again. Hours passed and over 10 things had been used to cut you open. Blood was pooling out of you and Illya’s voice was raw from yelling. There was a commotion upstairs that drew the man’s attention away from your as he broke another one of your fingers.

“Our team’s here,” Illya smirked. “And I’m about to keep my promise to you.”

“You might but first,” he turned and pulled the long knife out of your side causing too much blood to seep out of you.

“NO!” You heard Illya yelled. “Y/N,” he called as you felt your eyes flutter open and closed, “please, stay with me.” You were starting to lose consciousness. “Y/N, listen to my voice. Stay awake, Y/N, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t lose you, stay with me.”

“I’m sorry, Ill,” you said dully and slipped into darkness.


Your eyes sprang open and you were met by the uncomfortable feeling of a breathing tube. You slowly lead your hands to it and pulled it out of you. You pressed the button by your bed and a nurse and doctor were in immediately. “Ms. Y/L/N, how are you feeling?”


“Do you remember what happened?” You nodded.

“Where’s my team?”

“It’s past visiting hours, Ms. Y/L/N,” the nurse spoke this time.

“I need them. Please,” you pleaded and the looked at each other before the doctor nodded.

“I’ll call them right after I check up on you.”


“Y/N,” Illya bursted through the door and went right to your side, crotching. “Are you ok?How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better but I’m ok.”

“You’re a tough one to kill, Y/N, I’ll give you that,” Solo said entering the room with Gabby.

“We got this for you,” she smiled and put a large teddybear on your nightstand.

“I love it,” you grinned, “thank you.” You laughed at their sad smiles. “Guys, stop acting like I’m dying. I’m awake, a little beaten up but I’m awake and alive.”

“Do you remember anything,” Gabby asked.

“I remember everything up until he pulled the knife out of my stomach, after that I blacked out. What happened?”

“We took care of him. That’s all that’s important,” Illya said sternly, more to Napoleon and Gabby than to you. After a little small talk you found yourself drifting back to sleep.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Gabby stood up, “You need your rest.”


When you woke up again the stun was up and there was already someone in your room- Illya. “Hey,” you said and he jumped towards you in his chair.

“Hello. Do you need anything?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m ok. Are you ok?”

He looked at you shocked. “I am fine, Y/N. Why?”

“Not physically, I mean in general. You seem…on edge about something.” He took a second to gather his thoughts and you saw the wheels turn in his mind.

“I feel…bad, guilty, about what happened.”

“Il, why? You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly. I didn’t do anything and I should have. You almost died because I didn’t do anything.”

“Illya, you were strapped down to a table. It’s not that you didn’t do anything, it’s that you couldn’t. If you beat yourself up over not being able to do anything then I’ll do the same.”

“That makes no sense you were the one-”

“See, it doesn’t make sense. So stop blaming yourself.”

“I just…I don’t know what I would do if you died and I had to watch it,” he admitted.

“I can’t promise that you won’t see me like that again but I can promise that no matter what happens I will always fight to get back to you.”

He took your hand in his and kissed it, “And I’ll always fight to save you.”

Not Bothering To Notice

Originally posted by connorscobalt

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: 18 and 52 with Bellamy Blake? from this prompt list

Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You have no right to say that!”

A/N: This imagine sucks, im sorry. theres a message at the end. This is my sory excuse to write angst btw

Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked Bellamy, confused. Right now, he was looking at you with a tinge of disgust on his face. You couldn’t understand why as you were just doing your job, sorting out the different types of berries into their respected baskets.

“Because you disgust me,” He said with venom laced in his words. His response took you off guard.


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pheaphilus  asked:

Saw your post about the dream pack!! Want to share any headcanons? I'm in withdrawal from the trashcan boys.

Sorry for taking so long to reply, but I got a little carried away, haha. I love my trash children.

Our man Joey K doesn’t actually speak Bulgarian and he understands only half the lyrics of his shitty rap songs, but something about the rhythm and the harsh vowels resonates in the rattling cage of his chest.

He is the shortest of the gang save for Skov who is half an inch shorter, but it’s enough to soothe Kavinsky’s fragile ego. He calls them wolves and bites on their earlobes, fingers, collarbones. Reminders of who they belong to. Kavinsky has black hair and brown eyes, long curled eyelashes, moles scattered on his pale skin. His nose is crooked from one too many punches.

The savage glint in his eyes is the only thing left alive of a sober K. His skin turns gray and clammy, in stark contrast with his collection of bruises and cuts. The worst part is his dreams. If he dreams when he’s sober, he sees Proko, eyes glinting like a dead fish. A night horror picking at Ronan’s carcass. Worst of all, him, in a mirror. His father’s eyes staring back. K doesn’t take off his sunglasses for a week straight after that one.


K took one look at tall and lanky Prokopenko with dirty blonde hair wearing a white tracksuit and a lopsided smile and thought, I’m keeping this one.

Kavinsky dreamed up a Polaroid camera that never runs out of film, and it’s Prokopenko’s favorite dream thing, he’s always taking photos of the pack. K pretends to be annoyed, but he steals some photos every now and then.

Kavinsky did kill him, but it wasn’t on purpose. They were shooting empty bottles at the fairground at dawn and K wanted to feel the weight of the gun in his mouth, so Prokopenko tried to wrestle it out of his hands. Not a smart one, that boy. Kavinsky watched the blood flow in slow motion like a flower blooming from Prokopenko’s guts.

Proko has sectoral heterochromia, and it’s a pain in the ass for K to replicate. After the tenth failed attempt, he digs through the stack of polaroids in his nightstand and finds one where Proko is staring at the camera and sticking out his pierced tongue. He uses that one as reference for his favorite forgery.


Jiang does all the proper tattoos like a fucking artist, but they give each other shitty stick and pokes all the time. Kavinsky puts a little K on everyone’s ankle because he’s possessive like that. This is what the gang gives K: a knife from Jiang on the side of his middle finger, a smiley face from Proko on his navel (he likes to leave hickeys there as well), what seems to be a wheel from Skov on his right shoulder. Swan just writes “alpha” in cursive between his shoulder blades.

Unrelated, but I like to think of Jiang with some sort of magical power. Like he’s the one who gave Ronan his tattoo and it shifts and changes to show the bearer’s soul

Jiang is just really into knives. Nobody knows where he keeps them on himself, but he’s always flipping one. He’s not above getting his hands dirty for K and he always goes for maximum damage with minimal effort. He is as sharp as his weapons and he looks the part, always dressed in monochrome. Has a septum piercing and a bar in his right ear. He might not talk much, but he knows how to cut you down with a few choice words.


Skov is my beautiful nonbinary child. Can never settle on a hair color but this week it’s teal. Swan does his undercut and he loves the feeling of freshly buzzed hair. Only ever wears a tragus piercing, but has both earlobes pierced. Very into platonic makeouts. The youngest of the gang, Kavinsky taught him to drive (what a shit teacher) and dreamed him up the rx-7 because Skov saw it in a catalog and just had to have it. The only one who goes to public high school and not Aglionby. He drops out and essentially moves into Swan’s dorm room when his grandma (only living relative) dies. The only things that help quiet his mind are music and Swan playing with his hair. Designated DJ at every single party. His sleeve tattoos are sprawling bright florals and they cover the thin scars on his wrists. Every now and then a misguided fucker will try to slip something in Skov’s drink or corner him in some seedy bathroom. Jiang likes to break their fingers after Kavinsky throws some punches that don’t always land.


Swan is the tallest of the bunch and clearly the most handsome, charming as hell too. Smooth, dark skin and dark eyes too, with a smile to make your knees weak. Has two nose piercings, septum and left nostril. Sometimes he has trouble controlling his anger which is why he tries to diffuse conflicts. Clearly that goes out of hand in the crowd he runs with.

Very tactile and affectionate, he messes up Proko’s hair, puts an arm around Skov’s shoulders, fist bumps Jiang. Every time Kavinsky tries to kiss him, Swan’s large hand covers K’s entire face and pushes him away. This happens a lot. Swan only ever wants to kiss Skov, even if Skov kisses other people too.

Swan is the easiest to talk to even if he doesn’t always know what to say back. Maybe because of that. He guards their secrets something fierce.


Jiang is the one who buried Prokopenko’s body, but K only ever told Swan how it happened. Skov only met the dream version of Proko, so he couldn’t tell the difference, but the others knew the new Proko asked less questions, didn’t storm out of parties where Kavinsky went too hard on the drugs. Nothing was enough to hold K down anymore.

the lightsaber fic

a summary: i’m a terrible person and should turn to jesus for a clearance of my sins.

It was rather a sunny day, which was odd, because London weather is usually cloudy, but it was also refreshing, due to the constant dull weather that danced around in the sky.

Phil opened his eyes to see Dan’s ruffled hair and a sleepy face.
Oh God, was he beautiful.
Perhaps the most beautiful thing Phil has ever seen.
For a moment he gets carried away and follows the trace of Dan’s jawline with his fingertips, because he couldn’t just look.
“Babe, wake up, it’s almost twelve and we still aren’t out of bed,” He says softly.
Dan makes one of his many cute faces and rubs his eyes tiredly. “It’s already twelve? God, I feel as if I’ve been sleeping for only two hours.”
Phil can’t help but kiss the tip of Dan’s nose, because he was that fucking adorable.
“You tired?” Phil asked and uncovered himself as he got out of bed, starting to look for his clothes. And Dan shot out of bed, taking the jeans out of Phil’s hands.
“Yes, but I have a few ideas how I could get myself ready for the day.” Dan’s voice was as low as it could be, sending shivers all throughout Phil’s body.
Dan could be cute, but there were times when he was just so fucking hot.
Phil pulled Dan by the hem of his boxers and started kissing him gently.
His other hand found its way to the younger boy’s already ruffled hair and Dan smiled inbetween kisses. “You know what I like already, baby.”
The kisses intensified, and so did the tension that grew like mad around them.
Dan pushed Phil onto the bed and he grinned as he got on top of him.
He started to drag his fingertips from Phil’s lips to his chest, then stomach, and then his boxers.
Phil’s breath hitched and he wanted to let out a moan, but he also wanted Dan to work harder, to try his best. As he always does.
And instead of just his fingertips, he now touched Phil through the thin fabric of his boxers, as he moaned, wanting more.
Now, Dan has always been a tease, so he slowly took Phil’s underwear off and slowly jerked him off, which tends to anger Phil sometimes.
“Dan,” his breath hitched as Dan picked up his pace, but he wasn’t quite there yet.
Dan hummed in response and Phil softly moaned once again. “Faster.”
“No, Philly, you can’t come just yet. I have a surprise for you.” He winks and rubs himself on Phil, as Phil kisses him passionately, their lips a sloppy mess, but that didn’t matter.

“Where are you going?” Phil asks as Dan gets off him and opens the wardrobe.
He doesn’t reply, because he’s obviously very concentrated on what he’s looking for.
After a while, he smiles and grabs something out of it, and closes the wardrobe. “I got it.”
Dan walks over to Phil again, who is now sitting on the bed.
“Why are you holding a lightsaber in your hand?” He smiles.
Dan just runs his hand through his hair and chuckles. “I told you I have a surprise.”

Dan climbs on the bed and crawls towards Phil.
“I want you to suck this like you’ve sucked me. Hard.”
He didn’t know how to react, so he just raised an eyebrow. “You want me to suck a lightsaber.”
Dan smirked. “Come on, baby. Do it for me.” He whispered in Phil’s ear, again teasing his hard cock.
Phil eventually gave in after a series of moans caused by Dan, took the lightsaber out of Dan’s hands and started to suck it.
“Yes baby, just like that. Fuck yes.”
Phil still didn’t get why or how this turned Dan on, but we all have our fantasies and the least he could do was respect his boyfriend’s ones.
“Enough.” Said Dan in a completely husky and sensual voice. “Now let me fuck you with it.”
At first, Phil’s eyes widened because how the fuck is that supposed to fit in his asshole?
Dan, seeing the reluctance in Phil’s eyes, added, “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t go too hard. You’ll like it.” He smirked.
And fuck, the way called him like that with his raspy and horny voice, he couldn’t resist it.
Phil nodded and he slowly turned on his back, waiting to be fucked by the big, green giant lightsaber that was already lubed up with his own saliva.
Dan first went slowly, hearing Phil’s almost inaudible moans, but still hearable.
“You like it, don’t you?” He went even further and Phil’s moans became louder, which was only the indicator that he did.
Instead of pushing it, he started twisting it and Phil bit his lip, not letting a sound come out of his mouth. It hurt a little, but it was bareable. The pain was almost enjoyable.
He then continued to twist it, but also pushed it even further. “Dan!” Phil moaned and called out for him with an alarmed voice, but Dan was calm.
Dan used his full strength now and pushed it down even more, causing Phil’s asshole to stretch even wider, which amazed Dan. He was his little whore.
“D-Dan,” Phil gulped, not prompting himself up on his arms anymore - he gave out and fell onto the bed, with the lightsaber still inside of him.

“Make me horny, Phil.” Again, Dan’s raspy and seductive voice has awoken something in Phil and he smirks.
He turns around, leads Dan to grab the lightsaber again, and he kept pushing it further and further.
“F-Force choke me, daddy.” Phil manages to say inbetween his moans and groans and that gets Dan even more fueled up as he wraps his slender fingers around Phil’s neck and starts to squeeze gently at first, and then even harder.
Phil was only left to fuck himself with the lightsaber, which was a little more painful and warmer, but he managed.
Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re fucking yourself, Phil,” He whispered, “moan for me, baby.”
And Dan stopped choking him and returned to putting his hands on the lightsaber, and this time, pushing it in even further, as Phil crumbled under the effect and started groaning in pain.
“D-Dan, stop..” He could not continue anymore, because the pain became unbareable for him.
It was as if Dan was deaf, and he started to jerk it into him even more, and more, and more. “Baby, just hold on for a little more, please.”
Phil shook his head. “I c-can’t, stop, Dan..”
It burned more than anything, it hurt more than when he broke his arm and it’s like he can’t wake up from a nightmare.
And this was the last straw.
Dan used all of his strength and pushed it the furthest it can go.
Phil screamed in agony and blood started pouring out from his asshole and Dan removed the lightsaber from it, giving Phil the ability to roll himself into a fetus position and sob.
“Are you okay, Philly?” Dan says with a painfully soft voice, the one that made Phil believe in his innocence.
“I-I can’t b-believe you’re asking me this. After y-you have.. Done this.. I j-just c-can’t-”
Dan interrupted Phil’s words by pressing a passionate kiss on them, and Phil actually reciprocated with an equally passionate one.
It’s like he can’t go against Dan’s words. Or actions.
“Can you suck it one more time, for me, Phil?” His voice wasn’t raspy or sexy, it continued on being solely soft and silky, which made Phil ease into it and nod.
Phil proceeded sucking it while Dan shoved it into his mouth, which Phil was reluctant about but let it go quite casually.
And Dan became a little carried away once more, and shoved it too far, which resulted in Phil gagging and puking all the undigested food from lunch mixed with a little bit of blood.
Dan stood excited, taking the puke and lathering the lightsaber in it.
“Perfect.” He whispered.
As Phil leaned over to the side of the bed to continue puking and to spit blood, Dan made it his mission to fuck Phil with the lightsaber once more.
Lathered up in Phil’s stomach contents and blood, the lightsaber entered him once more.
He quickly rose up from his position and screamed once more.
“Dan, I-I told you.. The first t-time.. It hurts..” He was worn out after all this, but Dan didn’t care.
“Everything is going to be fine, Philly. Everything is going to be just fine..” Dan reaches for Phil’s cock and strokes it while, at the same time, jerking the lightsaber up and down his asshole. Phil gets hard and moans in the fraction of pleasure he was able to feel until the sore pain caught up and he almost screamed in agony again.

This time, Dan did not just overdo it, he went all in and pushed the lightsaber the furthest once more, smashing through his ass and into his bowels, and Phil couldn’t even waste energy in screaming how much it hurt.
It felt like such a horrid dream and he wanted to wake up from it as soon as possible.
Blood spurted everywhere, and Dan’s face grew with happiness.
“Phil, you’re so fucking amazing,” Dan moaned, as if this was turning him on.
Phil’s eyes widened in shock because how can this turn anyone on? How can people enjoy someone else’s pain like this?
Because he could not bare anymore pain, Phil collapsed on the bed, his body twitching.
“P-Please stop, Dan.”
He just smiled and kissed Phil, getting up from the bed and taking the lightsaber.
Just as Phil was about to speak, Dan shoved the lightsaber down his throat, making him suffocate and spurt blood everywhere, while puking simultaneously.
Dan then jerked off his already rock-hard penis, and looking at Phil’s image like this made him go over the edge and come all over the lightsaber.
Then, the thing was covered in Phil’s puke and blood, and also Dan’s sperm.
He left Phil half-concious in the bedroom while he went to the kitchen. He then came back seconds later with a kitchen knife in his hand and proceeded to Phil.
“This is going to sting a little, babe, I need you to stay strong for me.”
Poor Phil, he didn’t know what else to do than to just nod and Dan just rammed the knife into his head, creating a deep hole in it.
Dan then took the lightsaber and shoved it into the hole, pulling it in and out, his cock throbbing. Blood now covered the bed sheets and the nightstand, as well as the beige lamp that sat on top of it.
He took out the lightsaber and started fucking Phil’s head, and, he would lie if he said it didn’t feel so good. It was almost better than usual sex he would have with Phil.

“Surprise,” Dan whispered and fell asleep hugging Phil’s dead body.

For Everyone To See

Written for @spectaculacular-sammy Birthday Challenge!

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3542

Warnings: public sex, rough sex, dirty talk, oral (Sam on Reader), brief fingering, no condom (reader is on the pill)

It’s 8:04 on a Saturday, and so far, all you’ve done is lie in bed and read The Monstrumologist for the third time that month. Dean’s abandoned you in search of food and someone to curb his sexual appetite.

You don’t really care about where Sam is at this point. The soulless beast – yes, you call him a beast – is nowhere to be found, and you don’t really feel like texting or calling his cell. He doesn’t answer anyway, or if he does, his tone is tense and angry.

There’s already enough negativity in your life, you don’t need the man you love being rough with you like that.

You need him being rough in another way.

Keep reading

I’ve Got You

I really enjoyed writing this imagine for my lovely friend @seethatgirl3!  Requests are open!  Enjoy! xx

Imagine:  Y/n is a 6th year Gryffindor and is in a really bad relationship with another guy. It’s like a really unhealthy relationship and Y/n wants to escape it but can’t. Draco has a really big crush on her and one day witnesses the relationship in one of its worst moments. He sees Y/n run off and follows her. He comforts her and asks why she’s in the relationship and says that she should be with him because he can treat her better and then the ex boyfriend finds out and fights draco but draco wins with one bad injury or something.

WARNING: Sexual reference, strong language, violence, verbal/physical abuse

Originally posted by imagine-everything41

You sighed heavily and shakily, tugging at the bottom of the itchy sweater vest you’d thrown on.  What was I thinking?  Never had you been so uncomfortable.  It did not help that you felt a sort of stickiness and heaviness under your bloodshot eyes.  Well I’m sure I look like a real treat today, you scoffed to yourself.

You scooped your forefingers under your burning eyes quickly, being sure to eliminate the remnants of the soggy mascara that resided there.  With another deep breath in the books, you entered the Great Hall, head held high.  Despite the fact that you constantly had to hold back the urge to cry with every step closer to your friends, who were seated for dinner, you thought you were putting on quite a convincing façade.

However, much to your dismay, Hermione and Ginny knew better and saw directly through you.  You offered them a small smile and slid in next to Ginny for dinner.

“Hello, ladies!  How is-“

“You’ve been fighting again haven’t you?  With Andrew, I mean,” Hermione jutted in, analyzing the obvious pain in your eyes.  Am I that transparent?  You swallowed hard and mustered a weak excuse for a laugh.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re referring to, Hermione,” you bared your teeth in a forced smile.  

“Andrew is lovely, just lovely,” you could tell you weren’t convincing anyone, indicated by the glance your two friends shot each other.  You continued:

“Well, I mean, he had a bit of a rough game today against Hufflepuff…”  

Ginny nodded and rolled her eyes.

“You forget I was there, Y/n,” she chuckled.  “And honestly, it was more than ‘rough’, I’d say.  It was a bit pitiful, really.”  You cleared your throat, glad to be off the subject of your own problems.

“I suppose he couldn’t help falling off his broom though,” you offered a light laugh, but you could feel Hermione’s gaze still boring into you.  Finally twitching your head slightly to meet her knowing brown eyes, she nodded in understanding and sighed.

“Take it out on you, did he?” she touched your shoulder, and that small gesture was enough to make your eyes well up again.  You sniffed and let out a quaking breath.

“Y-you know how he gets.  He gets frustrated, that’s all…and he doesn’t mean it,” you choked a little on your words and bit your lip.  The gentle caress of Hermione’s sympathetic fingers on your back almost made your itchy sweater vest bearable.  Ginny’s expression softened from disappointment to empathy.

“Y/n, it shouldn’t be like this every time…it shouldn’t be like this ever. You’re like his emotional punching bag,” she touched your hand.  “I know what that’s like, and I don’t want that for you.”  You looked up from your lap and met her warm eyes and nodded slowly.

“Thank you, Ginny, Hermione…I’ll be alright, really,”  with that, you rose from the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very hungry…I’ll see you in the common room,” you wiped your nose and walked briskly away, hugging yourself tightly.

As you felt their worrisome eyes on the back of your head as you departed, your mind flashed to Andrew.  Infamous Andrew Kirke, beater for the Gryffindor quiddich team.  Handsome as one could be, but absolutely daft on the quiddich pitch, you had to admit.  Before he tried out this year, he seemed so nice, so warm and inviting.  You remember when his embrace could quell any worry you had, when one look from his brown eyes could melt you into a girlish puddle on the floor.

You scowled as you thought of the person he was now.  His embraces always filled with false hope and promises of “never again”, his cold brown eyes hardening at the long day’s end.

You shook your head as you climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Little did you know, a pair of grey eyes, twinkling with doubt, followed your quivering figure as you disappeared through the painting.

You woke up in a haze the next morning, smiling softly to yourself and cuddling closer to the warm body next to you.  Andrew’s eyes peeked open and he smirked, wrapping his arms around you.

“Mmm’good morning, babe,” he mumbled against your hair.  You sighed contently and closed your eyes reminiscing on the night before.

You had been so distraught by you and Andrew’s fight, but it wasn’t long before he had found you and apologized.  Even as hurt as you were, you accepted it and shared the night with him in his arms, the curtains of your small bed drawn tightly closed.  How could you resist?

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you pecked a small kiss into his neck. “Should we get up?”  He groaned and let out a lazy yawn.

“It’s Saturday, love,” he squeezed you to his chest, whispering against your ear. “And I want you at least twice more before I leave this bed.”  You laughed softly and hushed him.

“Someone will hear!” you exclaimed playfully.  He tugged a curtain aside and glanced the clock on the nightstand, and then around the room as best he could before sinking back into the pillows.

“It’s noon and everyone’s at brunch,” he closed his eyes and smirked. You found yourself blushing.

“Alright well…at least let me use the loo first!” you giggled and pulled on his oversized t-shirt, which hung almost to your knees.  He rolled over and gave your bum a quick smack as you stood up and pushed the curtain aside.  You rolled your eyes.

“Cheeky,” you retorted.  You’d only walked a few steps before you noticed a small, neatly folded note on the dresser.  It was addressed to you.

“Oh,” you exclaimed, quirking an eyebrow.  “Now who could this be from?”  You sat back on the bed once more with the note between your fingers, breaking the wax seal.  Andrew perked up on one elbow and pressed his lips to your shoulder.

“Hurry up, will you?” he growled.  You scoffed playfully and pulled the note out of the envelope, artfully narrow script dancing across the page.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he read over your shoulder.  Your own eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly in silent awe.

“‘You’re far too beautiful to cry,’” Andrew read aloud.  Your heart lodged in your throat and you tried to swallow it down.  He was shaking his head and spoke through his teeth.

“So, dear…I see you’ve got yourself a boyfriend,” he laughed dryly and you froze.  “Oddly enough, it’s not me.”  His eyes were wild with an inferno stoking deep down inside him.  You shook your head, but you found that your voice came out in a whisper.

“N-no Andrew…it’s not-“ he slammed his hand on the nightstand, making a sufficient slap.  

“I don’t know who sent this, I swear,” your voice was quiet.  Then you were silent, all words had gone.  Andrew stood up and paced the room, chewing on his lip.  His face was rigid.

“I can’t believe this,” he whipped around to face you, sitting quietly on the bed, drowning in his t-shirt and his accusations.  “You’re nothing but a Goddamn whore.  I should’ve known!”  He threw the clock on your nightstand to the floor, satisfyingly smashing it to bits.

You were frightened; his words cut through you like a knife.  You could tell his fury was burning and bubbling underneath his skin, ready to burst at any moment.  Slowly, you stood and sidestepped towards the door.

“Andrew, I swear I didn’t,” your hand rested on the doorknob, and suddenly he was lunging for you.

“HOW DARE YOU!” he screamed.  You swung the door open and started down the stairs, tears accumulating in your eyes and heart racing.  Andrew grabbed hold of your arm halfway down the stairs.  You yelped as he yanked you back onto your bottom, his grip like a vice.

“Andrew stop, please!” you cried, tears now streaming down your cheeks in fear and in pain.  You frantically looked around the room for someone, anyone to help.  Nobody.

As he forcefully began dragging you up the stairs, he tripped and released his grip momentarily.

You sprang into action, seizing the opportunity, and sprinted down the rest of the stairs, barreling out into the corridors of the castle clad only in an oversized t-shirt.  Andrew was yelling after you with a fury that was indescribable.  You couldn’t understand him, you just ran.

Bare feet pounding on cold stone floor, you hurried into the girls’ bathroom one floor down.  You were panting and sobbing, and you sank to the damp tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

The small note was still crumpled in your hand and you read it over again and again.  You’re far too beautiful to cry.  The words served little comfort, and you tossed it to the corner.  You rested your forehead on your knees and sobbed quietly.  Your arm throbbed.

Suddenly the door creaked open.  Eyes wide with fear, your head snapped up.  You begged:

“Please don’t hurt me!”  You stumbled back into the corner.  But Andrew did not walk through the door.  Instead, a familiar white-blonde-haired boy stepped into view.

“Draco?” you choked quietly.  You were suddenly very aware that you were half naked, and struggled to pull the t-shirt down further to cover yourself.  

“What are you doing in here?  This is the girls’ room,” you hurriedly wiped your eyes.  Draco gazed upon you with a soft expression.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he locked the door behind him and leaned against the stall. Your eyes burned and you sniffed, looking away from his prying grey eyes.

“I’m fine…just…rough morning,” you scrambled for words.  Draco nodded in understanding, seeing clearly through your ruse.  His eyes fell upon the crumpled note in the corner and he quirked his eyebrows.

“Ah, I see you got my note,” he chuckled dryly.  Your eyes snapped to the slender figure before you.

Your note?” you breathed. You took two steps closer.

“You did this!  You’re the reason he…he,” you couldn’t finish as you searched for any words that wouldn’t condemn Andrew.  Draco’s eyes flicked to your arm, red marks appearing where you’d been grabbed.  You covered it with your hand quickly.

“Why do you let him treat you like that, Y/n?” he asked, his voice dripping with traces of concern and disgust.

“I’m fine.  I don’t need you telling me what to do,” you choked and sank to the ground, eyes narrow and puffy.  He scoffed and set next to you.

“I’m not telling you what to do, Y/L/N.  I just…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully.  “No one deserves to be treated this way, not even you, Gryffindor.”  He playfully nudged you, but you kept your gaze fixed to the floor.

“Why did you send me that note, Malfoy?” you weren’t in the mood to joke with him as you often did.  You didn’t move.  He swallowed and stretched his legs out in front of him.

“I thought it to be self-explanatory, Y/n…but if you must,” he sighed.  “We’re friends, yes?”

You gave a curt nod.

“Yes of course.”  He nodded.

“You’re the only one who seems to give a shite about what I do, who I really am,” he continued.  “I come off as this confident, strong, ‘Slytherin Prince’, and you know sometimes I believe it myself.”  You offered a tiny smile.

“But you’ve always known better.  You take that smugness I deal out, and you deal it right back…because we both know that’s not how we really feel.  You know I wouldn’t treat you with real malice,” he searched for words, and you could tell it was difficult for him to be expressing so much.  

“Somehow you just know,” he shrugged.  “You are the one thing that’s kept me going all year…I’ve questioned my identity so many times, Y/n, but you always bring me back and you don’t even know you do, darling,” he looked at you, your bruised arm, your oversized t-shirt, and was quiet for a while.

“Honestly, Y/n…you don’t deserve this,” he frowned at the floor.

“I would never treat you in such a manner,” he mumbled and tinkered with a loose coin on the ground.  You looked at him and a tear slid down your flushed cheek.  Draco Malfoy says he can treat me better…Draco MALFOY.  What am I doing?

“You’re right,” your voice was soft and you let your bare legs fall beside Draco’s. You were nodding slowly.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

He seemed to perk up a bit.

“You shouldn’t have to, Y/n,” he whispered, with more kindness than you’d ever heard.  You closed your eyes, when you felt his slender arm wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer.  Surprised at your own actions, you found yourself leaning into his embrace.  For such a pale, seemingly cold person, Draco’s arms felt incredibly warm and secure.  He rested his chin on your head.

“I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore,” he vowed, his grip tightening.  “I’ve got you, Y/n.”

You had made it back to your dormitory successfully without running into Andrew, allowing you to change and clean yourself up.  Touching the bruise on your arm, now clearly intending to turn black and blue, you winced.  You have to do this.  Things with Andrew needed to end.  Draco waited for you outside the common room, hands shoved in his pockets, eyeing down anyone who looked at him wrong.  It was only when you popped your head out at last that his expression softened, and a small smile landed on his lips.

“Well now, don’t you look lovely,” he expressed.  You blushed and he chuckled.  “Not that you didn’t look lovely before, truly.”

“I have to find Andrew,” you stated plainly.  He nodded.

“Yes, you do.  I’ll go with you,” he said.  You nodded thankfully and continued down the corridor with Draco close by your side.

“He’ll likely be in the Great Hall,” you gulped.  “It’s nearly dinner time.”

The Great Hall quickly came into sight, and you found yourself shaking. Draco squeezed your hand reassuringly before you entered the hall.  

Andrew was surrounded by his teammates, including Ron and Ginny, laughing and looking to be having a jolly time.  You came into his view, and his expression quickly changed.  Ginny kept a watchful eye on him as he approached you. He looked like a sad puppy that had been scolded.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he murmured and attempted to pull you to his chest.  You resisted and cleared your throat.

“Oy, Y/n…what’s that on your arm?” Ron had been smiling but he looked confused as the black and blue danced across your skin.  Andrew shot him a glare.

“I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend, Weasley,” he nearly spat. Ron’s eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, glancing at Ginny who was fuming.  She knew Andrew was the cause of it.

“I need to talk to you,” you stated plainly.  Draco stood not far behind you, and Andrew noticed him looming about.  He pursed his lips.

“Alright.  Let’s talk,” his voice was rigid.  You raised an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t you rather do this in private?” you pressed.  He shook his head and was frowning.

“No.  No I think it quite appropriate to discuss this here so everyone knows what a lying, cheating whore you are,” his voice was louder, and heads started to turn towards the two of you.  Andrew’s gaze never broke from Draco, who crossed his arms and twisted his mouth into a sneer.  Ginny stood.

“Ginny, it’s okay,” you assured.

“Is it?!” Andrew yelled in your face.  You could feel his breath clouding your eyes, but you stood perfectly still. Draco nearly growled and quickly sidestepped in front of you.

“Not it bloody is not,” he took hold of your arm and pulled you forward, pointing blatantly to the enormous bruise.

“THIS is not blood ‘okay’!” he yelled.  Much of the table gasped and looked horrified.  Andrew looked uncomfortable but scoffed and pushed your arm away.

“S’nothing,” he shrugged.  Draco shoved him forward. Hissing through his teeth, he spoke inches from Andrew’s face.

“Don’t you ever touch her again, you foul bastard.”  His grey eyes were stone cold.  Your heart stood still.  Andrew bared his teeth and shoved him back.

“That’s not for you to decide!”

“You’re right,” you spoke clearly, and stepped forward.  Andrew’s eyebrows knit together and he stood rigid in front of you.

“Don’t you ever touch me again, you foul bastard,” you spat.  His eyes lit up with fury and before he could even think about committing such an act, Draco moved you aside and punched him square in the face.  Uproar arose from the students in the hall, and you scrambled over to Ginny who took you in her arms.  Ron stood in front of you both.

“Bloody Hell, never thought I’d see the day where I agree with Malfoy,” he chuckled dryly.  You barely heard him; your eyes were fixated on Draco.

He stood, taunting Andrew.

“What’s the matter, Kirke?” he stooped over Andrew, who was lying back on the floor.

“Or do you only hit girls?”  Draco sneered.  

Andrew grabbed Draco by the collar and shoved his feet underneath him, kicking him over his head with incredible force.  He landed hard on his back and his face twisted in pain.  Andrew sniggered and rose to his feet, just as fellow students helped Draco to his.

“You’ll pay for that, Malfoy,” Andrew smirked.  Draco stood in a wide stance, waiting.  Andrew lurched forward and threw a number of punches.  The two boys scuffled about the hall, punching and kicking and tackling about.  The students roared.

You held onto Ginny, your eyes wide.  Every punch Draco absorbed made you twitch.

Suddenly, the room quieted as Andrew drew his wand.  He had blood dripping from his mouth, and he spat a good amount of it to the floor.  Draco stared him down, blood of his own streaming from his nose and a gash on his cheek.  He slipped his wand out as well.

It was deathly silent as the boys stared each other down.  Suddenly:

“Confringo!” Andrew shouted.  Only he didn’t aim for Draco.  Your eyes grew wide as the curse flew for you and Ginny.  Draco dove towards you.

“Protego!” he conjured a shield at lightning speed.  He shot a quick glance back to you worriedly, and you nodded.

“How DARE you!” he screamed at Andrew. “Everte statum!”  Draco flicked his wand and Andrew flew back several feet, landing square on a table.  He broke several dishes, and Draco run up to grab him by the shirt.  He held his want directly to Andrew’s cheek.

“I’ll kill you next time, Kirke,” he growled at the bleeding boy beneath him. Andrew coughed and smirked.

“Have fun with your whore then.”  Draco felt a stabbing pain in his stomach as Andrew jabbed a large shard of glass into him.  

Draco’s eyes widened and he stumbled back off of him, coughing blood. The students around him gasped, and you screamed.

“NO!” you broke free from Ginny and rushed to his side, pushing students away. You cradled his head in your lap; tears sprang to your eyes.

“I’ve got you, Draco,” you choked.

Madame Pomfrey worked her magic and not twenty minutes later, Draco was resting comfortably.  As comfortably as he could be for having had a piece of glass stuck through him.  You sat at his bedside, gripping his hand tightly.

“Easy, Y/n, easy,” he winced and chuckled.  

“M’alright now, it’s okay,” he cooed, kissing your hand gently.  You breathed out a huge sigh of relief and relaxed your grip a bit.

“Draco…I’m so sorry,” you sniffed and a few tears fell from your eyes, soaking into his blanket.  He smiled softly, the corner of his mouth still sporting a bit of dried blood.  You wet a rag and dabbed at his mouth.

“I should’ve never brought you with me…I-“ he hushed you and took your face in his hand.

“If anything, I’m glad it was me and not you,” his cool eyes were warm again, and you felt yourself melt into a girlish puddle.  You hadn’t realized you were still dabbing the blood from his mouth. Draco gently took hold of your wrist.

“I’m okay…truly,” he guided your hand down to rest on his chest, and you rested your forehead on his.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you closed your eyes, breathing him in.  Before you knew it, you felt his soft lips on yours. They were gentle and careful.

You snuck your arms around Draco and kissed him with all your might.  He winced and smiled on your lips.

“Easy, darling,” he chuckled.  You smiled.

You really smiled.


Onto Jungkook, our sweet lil maknae I’m v v excited for this I’m loving this concept (also it’s almost my love’s birthday and I am s o ready for it I have shit planned and ready to go I’m so prepared)

  • Okay but Kook is lowkey the opposite of Jimin when it comes to this
  • Kook is what they call the “sudden strike”
  • Jimin takes his time to get to know everyone, find the best way to do it without causing a scene but Jungkook just cuts straight to the chase
  • Jimin really lures his hits into it, getting them to trust him before he goes for the kill but Kook’s hits never really see him before the night they’re assassinated
  • Okay okay but real quick, picture this
  • Assassin!kook wears the infamous black leather pants and boots

  • Like everyone around him is dressed up in suits and ties but he’s just got a nice shirt on and his favorite leather pants and his worn in boots and no one says anything about it bc he carries himself as if he’s wearing the finest suit ever made

  • He rarely goes to events (he does make sure to come to random ones just so people don't realize that whenever he shows up, someone “disappears”)
  • He normally spends the entire night secretly talking to his hit (he tries his best to make sure not too many people see him talking to them bc less witnesses = less pointed fingers)
  • He always finds a way to get them to leave the event, normally using the line of “let me walk you to your car, you never know what’s out there this late at night”
  • He’s definitely not as social as chim is so when you suddenly appear at one of the dinner parties, he’s not at all surprised bc he sees people come and go all the time
  • He is curious about you though bc you’re talking to one of the richest bank owners in the country so casually and that’s not an easy thing to do so he asks Jimin about you
  • Surprisingly even chim doesn’t really know anything about you, just your name and that you started showing up three weeks ago
  • He had to admit he thought you were pretty cute, you seemed close to his age which was rare in a room full of people who were all 40+
  • He went up to you after the dinner and just started talking to you, trying to use some of chim’s tactics in getting to know you better
  • He may have thrown in a few flirty lines here and there and you may have returned them
  • By the end of the night, he had your number saved and the promise of dinner on Friday
  • He somehow finds himself sneaking out onto date after date after date and the next thing he knows, he’s moving into an apartment with you
  • He does have to eventually tell the boys why he doesn’t stay over at the dorm as often and to his surprise, they’re actually pretty supportive
  • Their only advice is to not get too wrapped up into it bc he is an assassin after all and he has to be able to flee at any sign of someone catching onto their game
  • He can’t do that if he’s too busy being a lovesick puppy but he can’t help it bc you’re just slowly wrapping him around your finger
  • It isn’t until you two have been together for two years that he gets a call from Namjoon at 3 in the morning, your name coming out of the leader’s mouth
  • Kook just honestly feels sick to his stomach and is just like you have to be mistaken like no no n o p e I refuse to accept this
  • Unfortunately the person requested him specifically and they were offering up a lot of money for it  
  • In all the time you two have been together, waking up and falling asleep with each other every single night and day, you don’t know about his secret job and he doesn’t know about yours
  • Little does he know, you’re an assassin from an equally popular group and you’d just gotten a call from your own leader telling you someone was gonna pay a l o t of money to put a hit on Jungkook
  • Neither of you can really decline it without admitting the reason why
  • You’d both broken rule number one of “don’t fall in love” and it was a deadly rule to break
  • You decide it’s best just to leave him, to run, maybe change your hair, definitely change your name and just try to avoid having to assassinate your boyfriend bc not happening
  • Unfortunately, just as you’re packing up your weapons, he comes in to ask something about what movie you’d watch that night and then he just pauses
  • He doesn’t give any type of reaction and you’re just stood there frozen bc not only does he see a knife in your hand, he also sees you packing all of your things
  • He doesn’t make any move before he dives for his drawer (where he keeps his own weapons hidden)
  • You think he’s going for the phone on the nightstand so you immediately just have to grab him and try to hold him down while you’re frantically telling him you can explain
  • He manages to get the drawer open but then you look inside to see his stash of weapons and you’re just like uhm pardon excuse me??
  • You two have to sit down and admit that you’re both assassins and like you’re both lowkey upset the other kept such a huge secret but you also both understand why bc you did it too
  • He gets over it pretty quickly when he sees Namjoon calling him for a status report (kook had been stalling for an entire week and normally he had the job done within 24 hours so joon was h i g h l y suspicious) 
  • He just grabs the spare bag and starts packing bc we gotta go nOW
  • He doesn’t have enough time to actually say goodbye so he just calls Namjoon and gets him to put him on speaker so everyone can hear him explain he’s out
  • Much to lil maknae’s surprise, they all agree to help him and tell him they’ll meet him at the new city they’d call home with different names and hairstyles
  • It honestly warms his heart and he’s just so happy he doesn’t have to choose between you and them anymore and he agrees to send them updates
  • You all move into a different city ready to start a new life