|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Happily Ever After (Sherlock X OC) Chapter 1"Fuck" I muttered. It's been a long time since I came to London and I was lost. It was freezing cold currently, I always hated winter. I told John I would visit him today, but I had to walk to get there. I didn't have enough money to get a taxi, so walking is my only option. I walked quietly along the street muttering his address so I would remember it. "221b Baker street. Next to speedy's". I felt a drop of cold water drip onto my face. I looked up at the sky and I sighed. "Just my fucking luck" I growled. I reached into my messenger bag, and pulled out one of my old hoodies. I quickly slipped it on, and snuggled deep into it. It was my ex-boyfriends, and if you didn't know me you would wonder why I've kept it. He died tragically in a war, a very bad, horrible, bloody war. I shook my head to rid of those memories. I continued snuggling into the warm, old slightly ripped up fabric. I then saw a sign that read Speedy's, I smirked and hurried across the street. Seeing John might bring me
Twisted Reality pt. Two (Loki/HiddlestonxReader)You feel someone gently rubbing your back, coaxing you gently from sleep, your teary eyes slowly opened and you glanced around at the deep green room you were in. you immediately recognized it as your Masters bed chamber, your face paling as you pushed yourself to sit up and slowly turned to look behind you. You quickly sunk to your knees on the floor, bowing so low your nose touched the cold of the deep green of the marble, fighting off the urge to collapse as your head reeled and your body shook.
“You react properly for someone, a servant no less, who has been found in the bed of your Master.” Loki chuckled softly, standing and walking over to you.
“I’m so sorry, M’Lord…” you breathed, shutting your eyes as you expected to be reprimanded for sleeping on his bed and yelped as his hands lifted you gently into the air.
“No need to apologize, my pet, you were on my bed because I commanded it. Now please, sit back and relax.” He sat o
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More