Drakhjerta

Approaching the door, you sigh. How exactly you had decided that you would go for that drink with him anyway, you weren't quite sure. You liked Garp a little, he wasn't THAT old.....and he did kind of have a way with the ladies....except that he was always teasing you as if you were madly in love with him, which you weren't. And even if you were, you hated how he called so much public attention to it. Seriously, couldn't you just trace over his scars with your eyes and admire that seriously chiselled body for his age in silence? Did he really have to call you out on it and make everyone else notice the way you looked at him too? Grunting, you

‘Why have you brought me to this…place?’ Byakuya asked coolly. He pronounced ‘place’ as though it was a synonym for ‘cesspit’. He gave the inside of the coffee shop a once-over, his thin eyebrows pulling together. Garlands of holly, dripping with fat red berries, and ivy twined around the low wooden beams. Stockings -red, gold, green- hung over the fireplace where an actual, real-life fire crackled. The air smelled of cinnamon and chocolate, peppermint and ginger. Humans filled the place to the eaves. They crowded small wooden tables or huddled around the fire to thaw themselves out. A long line sna

    You walked down the street with your hands in your jacket pockets as a cool breeze blew through your hair. Here in New York it was damp and cold and you were on your way back to your apartment. You just wanted to go home, especially since it was Valentines Day and you were single this year.    At the end of the street, leaning against one of the many brick buildings, was a man. He looked to be about your age and seemed pretty sad and alone, so you decided to approach him. He was tall, thin, and pale; he had raven black hair that reached down to his shoulders, and radiant green eyes. He was wearing black pants, a black suit with a white

           A comforting, delicious smell filled the air around you, pulling you from your sleep. You knew this smell well. Even without opening your eyes, you knew the Undertaker was wafting a fresh plate of scones under your nose. “I swear those things smell better every morning.” “Aye, I don't doubt that they do love. I still wish you wouldn't be so very picky about what I put in me biscuits though. Now get up, we've got a quest waiting.” The undertaker placed the hot plate on your chest and walked away chuckling quietly. Slowly sitting up, you stretched your arms as high as you could and let out a long, happy sigh

Mycroft Holmes was a busy man. He was constantly working, protecting the citizens of Britain and even though he only claimed to hold a ‘minor position’ everyone who knew him knew better than that. Mycroft’s life was surrounded by threats so much so that on occasion he would almost fear for his life. So when it came to you, the one thing that could thaw the heart of the ice-man, he wanted to keep you separate from his work as much as possible. He wanted to keep you safe and protected and innocent from the things he heard and saw. However that proved harder and harder as your relationship became more serious: and now, Mycrof

You stood at the window of a tall office building, looking out at the world below. It had been some time since you’d been a hunter. You’d gotten out after a particularly bad hunt where you’d lost both of your partners to demons. You were the only one who came out of that encounter alive. After that nothing seemed right, so you quit, retired, gave up… what ever you wanted to call it, you were through with hunting. This world of clean lines and large windowed walls was your domain now and while it was dull you reasoned dull was good. You ran this branch of a large corporation, having climbed to the top over the two ye