[x]

Cursed

Timo was quite the average fifteen year old boy.

He only had one problem: He was cursed.

At the age of eight, he had been playing at the beach and accidentally thrown sand at an old gypsy, who happened to happened to have had a bad day.

Angry with the little boy, she had thrown a strange powder at him, which had made him sneeze. For the rest of the day he had felt a little weak, but after that everything had been alright again.

That was until his thirteenth birthday.

The night after it, Timo had had a strange dream, telling him about his curse: Whenever he got aroused, he would transform into the dream girl of whomever touched hi

ReaderXEngland I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good

Witch!Reader X Wizard!England - I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good

You and your two friends were talking in the Gryffindor common room late at night. All of the other Gryffindors had gone to their dorm rooms, and fallen asleep. You were playing Wizard's Chess with one of your friends Francis, while your other friend Tino watched you two while petting his white puppy Hanatamago.

"So, (f/c) do you still 'ave zee Marauder's map?" Francis asked you. You nodded, "Yeah, why?" You asked. "I've seen zat Black Sheep of Europe from Slyzerin sneaking around zee corridors-" Francis started to say but Tino stopped him mid sentence, "While you were doin

Tsundere!Reader X America - My Hero...

Tsundere!Reader X America - My Hero...

It was just a regular day at the world meeting, France and England fighting with each other, Germany trying to get everything in order, America ranting about how he's the hero and how everyone should listen to him. You found it a bit cute. Yes, you did have a crush on the loud, annoying American. You were so busy staring at America thinking about things, in your own world, you didn't notice Canada, your best friend along with America, tapping you on the shoulder. You were finally snapped back into reality by the Canadian waving his gloved hand in front of your face.

"(f/n)?" He said in his quiet voice

The Land of ChocolateThe Land Chocolate

MiMi sighed as she tapped her pencil on the table. Why did math have to be so boring? It was so pointless and there was so many numbers, it got confusing. She glanced at the clock; it was even too early to go to bed! Groaning, she leaned back in her chair. If only she had something interesting to do besides silly homework. She was thinking of an old story her Grandmama once told her.

"A long time ago, there was a kindly old witch who loved to make sweets for all the little boys and girls. So she made a place that all the children could go to if they were got scared, sad or even bored. It was a magical place with cocoa wat

Smile (Grand Highblood x Reader) Ch.1You are bored! Your name is (name) and now you are so fucking bored!! It's cold and raining and you are in your room reading some fanfiction of your favorite otp. But now you don't know what to do, so you decide to see what your best friend's last project was, ok first let's present your best friend and then you. Your best friend Akira (yup he's Japanese) is a hacker and nerd and you can even say that he create some machines and projects, he like aliens and want to know if they really exist, you really do like aliens but don't believe in their existence like Akira. You live with him because you lost your parents 2 year ago in an airplane acci

When life gives you CreepyPasta. VIIYou gulped. My imagination!? You inwardly screamed. You couldn't understand why anyone would want you around for your Imagination? Your imagination never got appreciated by people. You often got made fun of for it and felt out. You believed in things and thought of things that most people considered abnormal. You never took notes in class, you doodled.
You never had friends because no-one wanted to hang out with the girl who sat at home instead of going out, who drew and wrote instead of talking to friends and getting on social networking sites.
Sure, your parents cared for you but, they never understood you and you loved them anyway because they didn't push away for you ideas. Granted they were hardly ever home because of the jobs they had and you understood that, and that only made the moments you got spend with them mean more.
But hey, it's not like these people are gonna expect you to stay here forever are they?
Splendormans' smile never disappeared as he ans

Died for youDied for you.

He caressed her face, looking into her eyes in complete shock.

There was no way... Sure he could see fairy's and unicorns, but never before had he been able to touch- or even see- an angel.

And that's what she was to him, an angel.

"[y/n], you're beautiful..." He whispered with a small smile.

She blushed and smiled. "Thank you Arthur. You're rather handsome yourself."

He breathed a small laugh, and leaned forward to give her a short and sweet kiss.

She smiled shyly at the kiss.

He smiled and dropped his hand back to his side, his fingers gently stroking her smooth skin as he did so.

"Good night, [y/n]. I hope to see you

Child NorwayXReader

Child NorwayXReader
(Before you start reading....
Takk: Thanks/Thank you
Hva: What
Havfor: why
Ja: Yes
Nei: No
Mor: Mother/mom
Natta: Night
Jeg elsker deg: I love you
så søt: so cute )

You were a young girl who lived in one of the small villages in the Norsk country, you had to work around outside in the cold most of your day's. One day while you were working you stumbled over something in your field "whoa!" you fall on your knee's " the hell was-" you look over and see a small boy "hmm?!" you scamper to turn around and look closely at the boy. "Little boy?" you softly touch his shoulder, he grumbles a bit and curls up more. Yo

Smile (Grand Highblood x Reader) Ch.2~the signless~
You are searching for a place to hide from the rain, when you find a cave. You enter and wait for the rain to stop but it doesn’t seems that it will, so you decide that you’ll just wait here.

After a while you hear footsteps and see a small shadow that doesn’t really look like it’s one off the highbloods, it seems to search for a place to hide, just like you were and the sun was going to rise so you decide to help and pull her/him in to the cave and talk about how dangerous the sun is, you just think it’s a little troll who doesn’t know much about it.

But when you turn you see something you

Last Winter [JackFrostxReader] Pt.13

“I don’t hate you . . .”

“I know.”

Truth be told, Jack had not known that you didn’t hate him. You had been doing a very convincing job of wanting to dissect him that he had thought you did still hate him, but that, dissecting him, still seemed to be the case even after your confession of not hating him. Hearing those words, to him, was like a love confession because he’d had that thought in his head for so many years, and finally there was a confirmation that you had changed your mind.

Though you were currently laying out sharp scalpels and other assorted smaller knives on the study table, he was

Hero"Your son wants to be a dragon slayer!"
Behind the closed door, at his favorite eavesdropping spot, Caleb shuddered. It was always bad when his mother referred to him as his father's son, even worse when she felt she needed to inform his father about it.
"Well, what are you going to do about that, John?" she went on, and Caleb could picture her frowning just by the sound of her voice.
"I'm going to disinherit him," his father said evenly. "You hear that, Caleb? Open that door and listen to this properly: if you run off to be a dragon slayer, I'm going disinherit you."
***
Caleb's destiny had been decided before he was born. The eldest son of a highly reputable brick-maker, he'd naturally grow into his father's trade, learn how to make bricks that would not crack open in the kiln and wouldn't break under the weight of three-stories worth of bricks layered on top of them, and eventually he'd inherit his father's kiln, tools, helpers and customers. There were people far worse

C'mon. Reader x Jean Kirschstein

The iron stench of blood clouded the air and stuck to her skin, steam billowed from fallen Titan corpses and horrified screams of her comrades rung in her ears. She hid behind a stout-sided chimney, legs pulled up against her chest and her palms pressed to her ears to block out the shrieks of the dying and devoured.

Why did she want to do this? Why did she sign up to join this hopeless crusade? Did she think that she would even make the slightest difference in the fight against the Titans? Humanity has never won against them before, so why would her efforts improve their struggle?

It was all pointless, worthless; there was no point.

[Name]

Grace and Shawn - Chapter 1: The Therapy (FMG)Grace and Shawn - Chapter 1: The Therapy (Female Muscle Growth)
by MagnusMagneto (MagnusMagneto23)
Commissioned by up2nogd1 of Deviantart

Part 0.

Grace Ellsworth's crystal blue eyes were transfixed on the television screen. If the announcer on the show was to be believed, a human being was about to attempt bench pressing a literal ton of weight on live television; without wearing a bench press shirt. Then again, there was no reason for Grace to doubt the man's capability or the challenge's legitimacy. After all, the man of the hour was none other than Shawn Masterson - Grace's, and millions of other women's dream crush.

As expected, the

The Eyes Of The Hunter: Chapter OneIt was silent. Too silent.

This alleyway was extremely quiet, so quiet that you could even hear the sound of your own blood pumping around your brain. The silence was so intense it filled the air around me with an eerie sensation, walking down this alleyway made me feel awkward, I felt like I was committing a serious crime by breaking the stillness with the sound of my heavy boots against the pavement. The rubbish bins down here were empty, they had been tipped over on purpose, some still had rubbish inside of them, but most of them were dented, snapped in half, or crushed into little squares. I noticed that no rats lived inside these bins.

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 1.1 KB more ▶

More from ~vermilion--vermouth

paper heartsi think that your ribcage is made of steel bars,
creating an impermeable fortress for your heart.

if i could peel away your sadness i would press it
upon my cheekbones, spread like white tulips to grace
the rainbows that you painted upon my skin.

i would swallow your pain without reserve,
let it slide through my ice-glossed lips like quicksilver.

in the stillness, i trace the battle scars that linger
on your breath with the final vestiges of smoke
from the fires of absolution we could not control.

greener pasturesHe woke alone. To darkness, and an empty bed. Sitting up in bed, he ran a hand through sleep-tousled hair and contemplated the need for a cigarette. Fumbled the pack out of the nightstand drawer, fingers shaking as he lifted the slim cylinder to his lips and lit up. First inhale: bliss.

Images. Honey-hair under a cowboy hat. Jade imp eyes and too-thin, too-wide lips. The pretty blonde with little shoulders and skeletal hips, ready to launch. Shit-kicking boots, tight-fitting jeans. Sweetly rounded, perfectly sized, oh-so-grabbable ass.

He leaned forward, tapping off ash, stared mutely at the near-to-overflowing ashtray. When had that happen

coffeeshop fellatiohe wore Che Guevara t-shirts and quoted Nietzsche
through a cloud of peach-scented cigar smoke.
the waitress knew our orders by heart but when I
started sitting with him, she'd bring me coffee
instead of tea, because she knew I wouldn't send it back.

he wrote "love me cancerously" on a napkin
and left it under my cup one Saturday morning.
I fell in love with the idea of suburban Bohemia
and this wild-eyed boy with the honeyed tongue,
who haunted my mornings and my dreams.

we sought utopia in latte art and discarded notes
left behind by fellow early-morning caffeine addicts.
if the world passed us by, we saw nothing;
lost in our quest for a

i'm making an efforti'm doing so much better now;
trust me - i'm making an effort.

words hurt so much more than
all those pretty shards of glass
scattered on my dresser from the
mirror that i smashed today.

but i didn't pick up any of those
pretty little shards and cut, cut,
cut until i can bleed my tears out
until it doesn't hurt anymore.

i'm doing so much better now;
trust me - i'm making an effort.

i cried a while and wished that
i could pick up one of those pretty
little shards of glass and dig it
deep into all my scars again

but i didn't, and when it was over
the only thing making my pillow
damp was tears, and the only skin
that was red w

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

Submitted: March 8, 2009
File Size: 1.1 KB

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 4
Favourites: 1 [who?]
Views: 95 (0 today)
Downloads: 5 (0 today)

[x]

She Just Does.

by ~vermilion--vermouth, Mar 8, 2009, 8:30:40 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy

She doesn't know why she loves him.

He's egotistical, evil, moody, overdramatic, and quite possibly insane.

And she loves him, gods curse it all.

He'll probably kill her one day.

She knows that.

Doesn't change the way she feels.

She can't forget the way she felt when he put his arms around her.

The way her heart beat so fast that she thought it would burst.

The pure joy that she felt in those moments.

He doesn't make fun of the way she talks.

Even though he stabbed her when she tried to seduce him.

She laughs now as she thinks about that.

She had been a bit drunk at the time; it really hadn't been one of her better ideas.

He's a killer; it's what he does; it's what he enjoys.

She knows that.

She doesn't know why she loves him.

She just does.

She Just Does.by ~vermilion--vermouth

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Fantasy

Ilina's relationship (if it can be called that) with James isn't flowers and sunshine. But she wants it more than anything in the world.

Ilina belongs to me.

James belongs to Wolf

~LeviathanDemon Mar 9, 2009 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

I suppose many of us have relationships like that....albeit usually less dangerous. Just, ones we can't explain. .....it explains that perfectly, more or less.

~vermilion--vermouth Mar 9, 2009

I posted another one, from Vincent's point of view, not quite the same but related. I think I like it better.

~LeviathanDemon Mar 9, 2009 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Oh? I'll go look (it didn't show up in my inbox o.O)

~vermilion--vermouth Mar 9, 2009

o3o

More from ~vermilion--vermouth

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

She Just Does.

She Just Does.by ~vermilion--vermouth

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style