because the rest might just come to life and devour me

Story 215: Cultural Exchange

The human steps onto the station from her shuttle, and walks into the scanner.  It flashes - no weapons.  I pity her, though there’s nothing I can do for her.  By tomorrow she will be a slave the same as me; the Gaunvans collect ambassadors like trophies.
“Hello there!  Amanda Thorn, ambassador for the Empire of Humanity.  You’re a Ixian, correct?”
Mimicking human body language, I nod my head.  "That’s correct.  Ix Malasan.  It is an honor to meet you.“
She smiles, reminding me again that she has somehow modified herself to breathe atmosphere suited to the Gaunvans rather than wear a respirator like myself.  Other than that she appears to be a standard human, something I am led to believe is less and less common as they pursue the bizarre compulsion humans have to alter their bodies.  Changing hair color, adding pigments to their skins in patterns and pictures, growing long tails or ears that mimic other species from their planet.  No other known species tampers with their bodies like this.
“Not to be undiplomatic, she says, "but the Gaunvans enslaved your people.  Why are you here?”
“We… reached a mutually beneficial agreement.  We would have lost in combat and been eliminated, so we chose to preserve what we could of our culture.  The Gaunvans are not naturally skilled at diplomacy, so they bring me along to assist and to show that peace can be made.”
She nods.  "Understood.  I can respect that choice.  How much freedom do you have, personally?“
Smart of her, to start planning for her future. "A fair amount.  I have free reign on the ship when we are in transit.  At the homeworld I have reasonably comfortable quarters.”
“Have you ever met the Empress, or…?”
“Oh, no.  No, while on the homeworld I am confined to my chambers - but they’re quite spacious.”
“Shame.  Okay, plan ‘A’ then.  Let’s get this over with.”

Despite my attempt at encouraging diplomacy, the Gaunvan commander starts with threats.  I don’t know why I bother.  He looms over the human, chitinous plates almost black in the dim light.  His pod of six is posted around the room, for show more than for actual security since she followed orders and came alone and unarmed.  "Failure to surrender will bring the full wrath of our army upon you.  Humanity will be crushed, and wiped from the universe.“
To her credit, she looks very calm.  "We live in a post-scarcity society.  Bloody conquest just seems silly, doesn’t it?”
“It is for the glory of Gaun!”
“Well, I’m not prepared to get into a religious debate with you,” she says, “since I doubt there’s anything I can do to change your mind.  Since you’re committed to this course of action, what are you willing to offer if we surrender?”
Now he goes back on script.  Maybe I am getting through to him a little?  He talks about the benefits of being enslaved, mainly the protections for up to twelve designated culturally historical sites.  They’ve been mostly good on their word on my homeworld, though they did use the area just outside of the Hahhn Memorial as a waste dump.

She nods as she listens.  There was a part of me that was worried she would argue, because the humans are somewhat childlike.  They don’t understand the horrors of war.  Certainly they fought in the past, but the last time they had to battle was more than two of their generations ago, so these ones have all grown up coddled and soft.  They play games with each other instead, silly competitions.  They make art, and play pretend, and alter their bodies for fun.  They don’t have weapons anymore, and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did.
“Well then,” ambassador Thorn says, “this is about what I expected.  On behalf of humanity, I would like to formally reject this offer.”
Oh no.  Foolish humans.  The galaxy will miss your innocence.  The commander makes an excited clicking noise, looking forward to combat.  He reaches a blade-tipped hand towards ambassador Thorn, but hesitates as every device in the room bleats out an alert - we’ve all lost communications with the outside.

Like one of the dances humans do, she gracefully pivots around while taking his hand.  She ends up close to him and places her other arm against his thorax, then… oh gods. Gods, what… she’s ripped his arm off.  It’s not possible.  The commander is clearly thinking the same thing, staring in mute shock at his dripping limb.
“I’d like to extend a counter-offer,” she says, and flips the arm around before jamming the bladed end into his neck.  The warriors around the room are fidgeting, uncertain.  They haven’t been told to attack, and don’t want to dishonor their commander by intervening in a fight with such a small creature.  She’s still holding the commander’s severed arm in his neck, but she rotates and heaves, lifting him off the ground with it for a moment… and then his head pops off, landing squarely on the conference table.  She allows the corpse to slide to the ground, and straightens her clothes as if they aren’t covered in ichor.

I don’t understand.

The warriors, now with no orders at all, finally act.  She smiles as they come for her, I suppose because she has done her duty to send this powerful message of resistance.  She can die in peace.  Or… no… She’s killing them.  She’s smiling because this is fun for her.  Though they’re partly killing themselves; if there had been two of them, prepared, strategic, they might have prevailed.  Watching six panicked fighters get in each other’s way while trying to stop a smaller, faster, and somehow impossibly stronger foe is almost hypnotic.  At least one is killed by the stab of a friendly lance due to pure confusion.  It’s over faster than I would have thought possible, severed limbs strewn across the room.  I’ve got some fluids splashed across my clothing.  Only one yet lives, and he is retreating.  She seems to be allowing it.

She follows behind, holding a lance.  The wounded and scared warrior scurries down the hallway towards his ship, looking back behind him as he goes.  She’s just… walking.  Calm.  And for some reason I’m following.  The last Gaunvan reaches the airlock and the second he enters his code she throws the lance - throws it! - and spears him.
“Come on, we’re stealing their ship.”  She says it like this is the most normal thing in the world.
“There are thousands more on board!  Thousands!  Almost all warrior caste!”
She smiles again, and keeps walking.  I see errors on the screens that we pass, messages indicating communications have been lost.  They can’t tell anyone what is happening here.  Even the communicators within the ship are on nodes rather than being wired, so the warriors at one end of the vessel won’t be able to coordinate with the other end.  Do they even know they’ve been boarded?

We enter the bridge after she kills a handful of other guards with ease.  They’re too shocked by her presence to act in time.  Once the door are sealed and she is working on the control systems she starts talking to me again.
“Well, you know, we do like to be prepared.”
“But you… you ripped his arm off.”
“Yeah, that was super satisfying.”  She looks at me appraisingly.  "Oh, come on.  Is it really that surprising?  You knew we were into changing ourselves, right?  Being strong enough to pop an overgrown bug’s forelimb off isn’t rocket science.“
"Your people are so peaceful…”
“Oh, sure, most of them.  But we did that, too.  Tweaked ourselves over the years to decrease aggression and some of our tribalistic tendencies, increase empathy… all stuff that can be undone if needed.  Though for a good cause even the nicest of us can squish a bug or two.”
“You bond with Ry'ling devourers!”
“Those are the big fuzzy guys that look like cats, yeah?  Those guys are adorable!  But… look, liking some things that could kill us doesn’t mean we’ll sit back and get enslaved.  We didn’t put up with it well when we enslaved each other, and we certainly aren’t going to go for it now that we’re… finally… on the same page about slavery being unacceptable.  It was, uh, a longer time than we like to admit before the last hold-outs were convinced of that one.”

I can feel the ship un-dock.  We’re moving.  "What about all the warriors on board?  They’ll break through the doors eventually!“
"Not according to this control panel here.  Take a look.”
It says there’s no atmosphere in the rest of the ship.  Life signs are negative on all but two of the warriors, presumably the only ones that got to their suits in time.  She disabled all the safety measures, somehow.  She just killed… I check the life signs readout again to confirm the number… three thousand, six hundred, and fourteen soldiers.  Wait, how is it tracking that unless… “Are communications back up?”
“Yeah, I’m calling some friends.  The military is right around the corner, so to speak.”
“But Earth doesn’t have a standing military.”
She laughs.  Not just a little bit.  She’s actually doubled over for a moment, unable to catch her breath.  "Sweet Jeebus, you guys actually fell for that?  No standing military.  Have you read about us at all?“

Three ships appear seemingly out of nowhere, and one docks with the Gaunvan vessel.  Once the atmosphere is restored we head to the airlock to meet them, and I’m surprised by an entire platoon of Gaunvan warriors.  Speaking English.
"Okay boys, send your last goodbyes!  This is in all likelihood a one way mission.  Commander Thorn!  It is an honor to see you again, and might I say you look exquisite drenched in the blood of your enemies!”
She bows to him, blushing, and then salutes the Gaunvans.  Or… humans?  Can they change themselves this drastically?
“You’ve got two holed up in here somewhere.  Bridge is clear, have the techs bring the new brain on board.”
“New brain?”
She looks at me like she’s forgotten that I’m here, and then turns back to the others.  "Men, this is our new friend Ix Malasan who has just been liberated from his captivity.  He’s going to be helping with our intel.  Malasan, yeah, a new brain for the ship.  Once this vessel is cleaned up and back in service with a new crew we’ll be able to take it over whenever we want even if all of our boys get killed.  We cooked up a really sadistic AI for it.“
"But how do you know the protocols?  This was your first contact with the Gaunvans, they’ve never lost a ship anywhere near here!”
“No?  There wasn’t a mining colony disaster two years ago?”
“But that was just an accident… and you weren’t even involved in the war yet… and…”

The faux-Gaunvans have finished boarding.  The one that was talking to them before puts a bladed claw on ambassador - commander - Thorn’s shoulder.  "You coming with?“
"Naw.  Orders said I could only come if they allow ambassadors near extremely high value targets.  Malasan here says they don’t, so I need to wait for my next mission back on Earth.”
“It would have been nice having you with us, Thorn.  Well, maybe we’ll see each other again.  Suicide mission or not, I think I’ve decided to live through it.”
“Bold choice,” she says, and kisses him next to his lower mandibles.
He nods at me, then turns back to his men. “Okay everyone, we are now officially on the job.  And what is that job?”
In unison, they start chanting.


For a moment I nearly feel pity for the Gaunvans.  Nearly.  Commander Thorn leads me off of the ship, and I start thinking about what useful information I can provide the ‘harmless’ humans.  Fuck shit up, indeed.

anonymous asked:

can you give me some otayuri getting together hc?? i'm rlly sad n angsty bc of a boy rn :(( -poet

Yeah I’m still pissed off because of that copycat anon so I’m gonna calm us both down I hope that boy gets his dick kicked. cOME HERE LET’S HAVE SOME HUGS AND DEEP BREATHING. 

  • They weren’t overnight, obviously. They were painfully slow burning up to each other, but they were the quickest to become best friends. 
  • They would text each other all the time - and after practice they would typically Skype each other until Yuri would just pass out.
  • However, Otabek had loved Yuri since their first meeting as children - but he was willing to hold off so he wouldn’t ruin their friendship. So, (props to Heather for this one) when Yuri falls asleep during the Skype calls, Otabek just watches. He loves seeing the Russian’s face soft and peaceful and just so at ease with strands of hair in his face and he loves listening to his steady breathing. He never tells Yuri about it, even after they get together.
  • Yuri doesn’t realise that he’s in love until Otabek visited him in Hastesu (originally he was going to St. Petersburg, but then he found out that Yuri would be visiting Hasetsu and just decided to go there and try the famous Katsudon he’s been hearing about). Yuri didn’t know how to use chopsticks well, and Otabek decided to teach him by placing his hand over Yuri’s and guiding him.
  • The next time he visits Otabek introduces him to his favourite band, Arctic Monkeys, and plays this song. The lyrics make Yuri curious, but neither of them said anything about it. 
  • They hold their feelings in for years - Otabek is willing to live the rest of his life alone waiting, while Yuri is practically going mad with wanting. Until, finally, Yuri starts to push boundaries. 
  • It starts small. Lingering touches on fingers when passing something over. Pulling him by the arm and letting his grip slide down and onto his hand until they reach their destination. Subtle flirts and questions while they would talk on Skype. All of them were always covered with a shitty ass excuse to push the boundary. 
  • However, Yuri suffers a head injury during practice once. It’s nothing too bad - just Yakov told him not to get back on the ice for the rest of the week, at least. So, he decides to take this opportunity to go visit Otabek in Almaty for the week. 
  • Yuri gets more bold with his limits. When he meets Otabek at the airport, he’s greeted with earplugs for his head (because Beka is an absolute sweetheart and doesn’t want the loud noise from his bike to affect his best friend’s head injury); and Yuri pretends one of the earplugs is loose so he would press his ear against Otabek’s back while they rode on his bike. He offered they sleep in the same bed, even “warning” that he gets cuddly in his sleep. His touches would linger, his words were becoming questionable with double meanings - and he even offered a pair skate when he visited Otabek’s rink in Almaty: and that’s where he got sloppy. 
  • His touches were gentle and caressing and his moves were suggestive and Otabek remembered thinking what the hell is going on in a small panic that he might let something slip. Little does he know, that Yuri can’t take it anymore. 
  • When they go home that night, Yuri fakes sleeping so he could cuddle up with Otabek, then decides to wait until Otabek falls asleep until he finally leans up and kisses him.
  • It’s Yuri’s first kiss. 
  • Otabek, however, is not a heavy sleeper. 
  • Yuri had sighed to himself and he goes to stand and go to the bathroom to splash himself in the face for what he did - until he felt something grab his wrist and pull him back to the bed, now devouring him in kisses until Yuri is seeing stars and he feels like he’s flying. 
  • They pulled away once, and Otabek gently rested his forehead on Yuri’s and simply asked, “how long?”
    “Since I was sixteen. At least.”

  • They kiss again and they don’t stop until the two of them pass out that night, and they address what happened in the morning while they ate breakfast downstairs with some chai, and then they talk about what would be next for them in their lives. Everything was unanimously agreed. 

For November 2nd. (Also because @cuddlebabies, So Says the Sword was heart-wrenching and fantastic and I know it couldn’t have ended any other way… but I am now emotionally gutted.)

I’ll never take this for granted. Not again.

It’s a faint thought, niggling at the back of his mind as he sits at the table, staring as Castiel scarfs down a PB&J sandwich. It’s been maybe fifteen minutes since he’s been back—back in the Bunker, back in his body, alive—and since then, Jack and Sam have made themselves scarce. They left Dean to short-circuit and enter his care-taker default.

He and Cas have barely spoken two words to each besides saying each other’s names. One perfunctionary, awkward hug later, Dean had been making a sandwich and handing over a bottle of water. Now, they sit across from each other, and Castiel eats like he hasn’t in a year.

His long, elegant fingers press their prints into white bread, peanut butter squeezing out against blunt, closely-clipped nails. His Adam’s apple is prominent as he swallows, with stubble thickening as it leads up his neck and turns to scruff on the bolt of his jaw. His nose is straight and his mouth is red and wet from eating and he’s gorgeous and alive and gorgeous, in a way Dean has always known but never let himself examine. Never let himself think about.

He’s thinking, now.

About the new trench coat—darker, more fitted—and how it stretches against Cas’s biceps. About the new tie and white shirt and how they’re both kind of pulled loose, highlighting the divot between his collarbones. About how Castiel’s slack-clad thighs are thick where’s they’re spread apart on the seat of his chair. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip and Dean is drawn to the movement, to the solid physicality of him. His cheeks are flushed and pink and his eyes are bright friggin’ blue. His hair is windswept.


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Lockwood, on principle, refuses to see anything as hopeless. But even he has to admit that, trapped as they are at the foot of the winding staircase, out of weapons, nearly driven mad by the incessant screaming, things look pretty bad.

It’s a gargantuan task in the face of the vicious psychic attack to string two words together coherently, let alone think clearly enough to find the solution, but that is his job. He is the leader; the safety of both George and Lucy is his responsibility. He knows the answer is close. He just needs three seconds of quiet to be able to think.

He isn’t going to get those three seconds.

To his left, George collapses to his knees, clutching at his head. Then Lucy is moving, stumbling towards the well, but her movements are off. Even as he fights for control of his mind, he can tell that something essential is missing from her expression.

The screaming tears through him, the monks rage, and Lucy moves as if transfixed, closer and closer to the well, and everything, everything is wrong. He needs the source, and all he can think about is how Lucy’s eyes completely lack the intuitive sharpness he’s come to associate with her. It’s almost as if she were someone else.

Two separate but connected realizations hit him simultaneously as Lucy draws even with him.

The well. The well is the source. And Lucy isn’t herself at all. She’s moving towards the well under the influence of the monks, just as the poor boy from Fittes had tried to do all those years ago.

Lucy is going to throw herself in.

The feeling of his stomach falling out from under him as she moves to step over the lip of the well is what breaks him free.

He will not let anyone else die.

anonymous asked:

Hey ! I know requests are closed but I was thinking maybe you could keep this in your list of possible ideas if you're ever stuck, i just read the Snapchat cosmo article about how the writer wore lingerie for A week to bed to see how it changed her and her boyfriends sex life and thought that could turn out really well if you wrote something like that

There will be a blurb for each day of the week (not posted on each day, I’m not a machine).  So there will be 7 of these.  Enjoy Monday.


“Why are you doing this anyway?”

“Because I don’t want him to get bored.”

“Is there a reason he might get bored?”


“Then, I’ll ask again.  Why are you doing this?”

I pushed the dressing room door open, ignoring my best friend Angie’s question,

“How does this look?”

Angie was bored and I understood why she was bored.  For the last three hours I dragged her around to every single lingerie shop within a 20 mile radius.  I’d even gone to Victoria’s Secret in the hopes of finding the last bit of what I needed.  

My name was Evelyn Lawrence and I had just graduated college a year ago.  Since then I’d been kind of rootless.  I had a degree in journalism but I didn’t really know where I wanted to work or what I wanted to do with it.  I didn’t think I wanted to be on the front lines during war or anything but maybe a cushy job at Entertainment Tonight was more my speed.  But in order to get anywhere, I needed to start writing.  Which was easier said than done.

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anonymous asked:

fake relationship fake relationship fake relationship pleASE !!

Thank you to the two people who requested this prompt! I’ve been really sick these past couple days (so this is probably terrible, I’m sorry) but I really enjoyed writing this 😊

Also available on AO3

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Cyrus asked, twisting his hands together as he and TJ approached the dance room. “I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“It’s fine,” TJ reassured him. There was a gentle smile on his face, and it made Cyrus’ stomach flutter pathetically. He slung an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and added, “It might be fun, actually.”

Cyrus snorted. “I didn’t know you liked to dance.”

“I don’t. But it’s fun to step out of your comfort zone now and again, right?”

“I guess…” Cyrus wasn’t one for reaching beyond his limit, but TJ’s easy confidence made him feel a little better. If TJ, the most popular boy in school, was willing to go to a dance class for him, the least Cyrus could do was try and enjoy it. Even if it meant facing Izzy again.

When they stepped into the dance room, most of Cyrus’ classmates were already paired up with their partners. The week before, their teacher had instructed them to bring someone else along to take part in today’s class, and naturally everyone had opted to bring their boyfriends and girlfriends with them. Cyrus couldn’t bear the thought of being the only person without a romantic partner, so he’d asked TJ to pretend to be his boyfriend. It was only so he could get Izzy off his back, so he didn’t have to suffer her patronising comments for the rest of the year.

“Last chance to back out,” Cyrus whispered to TJ, hyper aware of the arm still draped over his shoulders, hugging warmth into his body.

TJ gave him a comforting squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere, Underdog.”

Before Cyrus could thank him for the billionth time, Izzy marched over to them, her poor boyfriend trailing behind like a dog on a lead. Her white-blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and her perfectly shaped lips were glossy and pink. She looked like a Disney Princess come to life, and it made Cyrus feel small and ugly in comparison.

As if sensing his discomfort, TJ pulled him closer.

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anonymous asked:

Swan Queen + Emma ate too much pie and is having an existential crisis

“Emma?” There’s no response. Snow cranes her neck down at her daughter, a little worried. “Emma, you’ve been catatonic for five minutes now. Are you sure there wasn’t something in that pie?”

It had been a mistake to invite Emma to the Storybrooke Elementary Bake Sale, she reflects, if only for Emma’s own health. It’s been a rough year, between breaking the curse and getting thrown into another realm, not to mention the pesky fact that Snow had recently orchestrated Regina’s murder of her own mother. They had all needed a distraction, and the Bake Sale had seemed the perfect choice for Emma. Snow had expected Emma to buy a few muffins, maybe some pastries…

She hadn’t expected Emma to eat an entire pie. “Emma, are you sure you’re all right?”

Finally, a response. “I want to marry whoever baked that pie,” Emma says, jerking back up with sudden determination. Her eyes are fierce, her hand resting on her stomach with the sort of satisfaction that comes only from deep, enduring love, and Snow blinks at Emma. “You’ve been talking about me finding my true love all year, and I’ve found him. Her. Whoever. The pie baker. Take me to the pie baker.”

Despite herself, Snow perks up. There’s nothing like true love to get her enthused, and Emma being interested in true love is a rare thing indeed. Perhaps this pie is, in fact, a gift in disguise. “Is there a name on the label?”

Emma shakes her head. “Nothing. There’s no name, no class number, no hint of who could have made this pie.” She looks haunted, wistful, and a little ill. “I also might need to throw up a little bit of it.”

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Imagine living in Beacon Hills and having to help your friends deal with a new group in town

“I love pizza!”

You laughed at Kira, who was stuffing her face, while nodding your head in agreement. You, her and pretty much the rest of the McCall Pack were at Scott’s House, celebrating the beginning of another weekend and a successful victory over an evil pack of betas from another town. Even the Chimera Pack teamed up with you after convincing them that they’re not monsters and not everyone is evil, and even though they were adjusting to their new life of defending Beacon Hills, they were in the small lounge with you. You liked seeing the residents of Beacon Hills at peace though, and because of that, you didn’t let anyone bicker even the slightest bit.

But obviously with Derek around, it was a challenge. Even he managed to be less sarcastic than usual, though. You were all just happy that once again Beacon Hills was safe and no one was killed in action.

“I must disagree. This is awful”, Theo spoke and pushed away the pizza that had been given to him, while a grimace covered his face. He was not one to enjoy barbecue meat, while Kate was devouring her third piece. She wasn’t living enough to have the time to get used to some food because the Argents move around a lot, and even though heathly food was always the best option, she loved pizza, much to everyone’s surprise, including Allison.

C'mon, don’t pout, Theo", you teased and earned chuckles from around the lounge. It was a relaxed Friday evening, and you were happy, warm and enjoying it at it’s finest. Beacon Hills was too often dangerous, and some kind of war almost always going on but for once, everyone was calm and got along somehow.

You loved it. And you wished it would be like that more often.

Slight chatter and laughter filled the lounge until it became dark because of a sudden shadow from the sky. Loud noise immediately reached your ears, and the Werewolves, Werejaguar, Chimeras, Kitsune, Banshee and humans became alert and went outside to see what caused the rumbling. You followed as well, and as you looked up into the sky, you couldn’t help but your jaws drop.

“Holy shit”, you let out, and heard Derek say the same thing. There was some kind of spaceship, coming quickly towards the ground and you watched in shock as the mysterious spaceship soared over the neighbourhood and crashed far out in Beacon Hills Preserve. “What the holy hell is that?” Lydia shouted, as the Banshee finally found her words, “I don’t know. We should probably check it out, if there are survivors”, you said, pointing in the direction the spaceship went. “You never know. There might be some aliens in there”, said Stiles excitedly but everyone gave him the ‘seriously. There’s no such things as aliens.’ look, Stiles raised his hands in surrender.

“Y/N’s right, we should check it out. Malia, Theo, Tracy, Kate, Liam, Derek and Y/N, you’re with me”, said Scott, guess the others are at a safe distance if anything went south. Scott led the way with you, Kate, Theo, Tracy, Derek, Malia and Liam close behind, following the trail of destruction towards the crash-site. Anticipation was building inside, what if Stiles was right and there were some aliens, hopefully not the Xenomorphs that’ll rip you to shreds, nor the Predators that’ll take your skull as a trophy or the aliens that blew up the Empire State Building in 'Independence Day.’

However, it was neither of those aliens as you, Scott, Malia, Tracy, Kate, Theo, Derek and Liam finally reached the actual crash and, the first words that came out was nothing, your group were lost for words because of what you see in front of you.

A crashed Spaceship that has a weird cube like shape glowing orange, “Ok, tell me I’m taking drugs, or this thing in front of us is real?”, asked Liam, “nope, that thing is real”, Tracy answered. You and Kate decided to get closer to the ship, see if there are any survivors. “Look likes nobody’s home. They must have bailed out before we even got here”, Kate said, indicating the ramp leading up to the ship was down. Suddenly you heard a heartbeat behind you before your werewolf reflexes caught an arrow from going into Kate.

You inspected the arrow closely, it was black with a green arrow tip at the end, “Allison, is this yours?” You asked Allison and the others, showing them the arrow you caught. “That’s not mine. How about that guy behind you”, answered Allison before pulling her bow and arrow out and aimed it at something behind you. You and Kate whipped around to see a man in green, holding a different bow and arrow, you immediately recognised him as the Vigilante of Star City: the Green Arrow. “Who are you?! Where are we?!” He yelled, clearly using a voice modulator because underneath it, the voice sounded familiar.

“Uh- Beacon Hills?”, you stammered, and made the Green Arrow lower his bow. Before he could speak or do anything, the Flash suddenly appeared out of nowhere, right next to the Green Arrow and begun looking around the crash site.

“Beacon Hills, huh? Great. Just great”, he let out and looked at the Green Arrow next to him, “got any plans, team leader?”, Green Arrow asked, engaging in a conversation as if the scouting party wasn’t even there.

“No don’t answer that, I forgot we actually have a man with a plan on our team”, said a voice in the air as Supergirl landed right behind you, causing you and Kate to jump. “Jesus Christ! Watch where you landing. You could’ve had me or Kate squashed!” You shouted as more people started to come out.

It was certainly an interesting sight, and the group seemed quite odd but you didn’t judge. You did live with Werewolves, Banshees, Chimeras, a Werejaguar, a Kitsune and humans and what not.

“That’s hilarious, Kara”, the Flash scoffed, but before they could start bickering or argue, Scott intervened.

“Uh, who are you? A threat?”, he asked while walking to you and knitting his eyebrows together. The Flash, chuckled and looked around his friends before shooting a grin at you and Scott.

“We’re mean no harm to you guys. We’re the Justice League.”

Long Lost Love

Request: Hi loved you devour me story and i was wondering if you could do another Jasper story? Maybe if like you know him beforebthe war and before he was turned and one day they cross paths again? I have this image in my head and i know your the only one that can do it.

Requested by: @taylorcaster03262001

Context: After years of a tormented broken heart, you were able to finally mend it unexpectedly. 

Warnings: Just super cute fluff and sweet and just…cryyyyingggg brb

Jasper Whitlock, the man that had your heart. He was everything and more with his sweet smile and soft hair. Momma always said that a gentleman was someone who came and stole your heart before leaving you to fight the war. He was your best friend, someone you loved dearly.

“Y/N, I will come back. I swear it. On everything that I am, I will come back to you.” He had said before he left. In your heart you wanted to believe it, but the way the war was headed, it didn’t seem like holding out on hope was going to work.

And it didn’t. There was no word on his return whether that be dead or alive. Everyone assumed his body was lost somewhere in the battlefield, forever.

You held a picture of him in your hands. The cowboy you missed so dearly. It had been nearly a hundred and fifty years since you last saw that beautiful smile of his. There was no way he had survived and if he did, you had hoped he lived out his life in the best way possible and was not retrained to the life you now lived and was forever condemned to.

“Y/N.” You heard one of the Denali sisters call to you. You were sitting in the snow bank, watching the snow fall onto the land.

Tanya approached you and sat down. You still had the picture of Jasper in your hands.

“He looks like someone I know.” She said, taking the photo from your hands. You watched her carefully.

“He was the love of my life. The war took him from me.” You said, sadness filling the air.

She handed the photo back to you, smiling sweetly at you. “He died doing what he loved, protecting you.”

That elicited a smile from you. You placed the photo back in it’s respective place and stared out at the vast ocean of snow.

“I know you haven’t met them, but I have a cousin clan in Forks that I think you should go meet. They’re vegetarians like us so it won’t be so hard to fit in with them. I can call my cousin Edward and let them know you’re coming.” She didn’t give you much room for protest. Tanya had taken you under her wing the moment she laid eyes on you. The vampire in her told her to make you part of her clan.

“Thank you, Tanya. This might be what I need.” You said, taking your leave.

You arrived in Forks, Washington and took a deep breath in. There was nothing like the smell of fresh rain on pavement. Edward had suggested to pick you up instead of you running all the way to their house since you had luggage, and wanted you to feel at home with his family. You didn’t negotiate and took the offer kindly. His silver Volvo was waiting for you at the airport with Edward leaning against the car, arms folded across his chest. He was a very attractive man, but your heart was still set on your soldier.

“Edward, I presume.” You said, the thick Texan accent you could never shake off rang out loud and true. It took a minute for him to get over it before he smiled.

“That would be me.” He said, taking your bags and putting them into the car. “Welcome to Forks. Hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

You nodded at him and he opened your door.

The drive was filled with small talk, mainly because he could read your mind and all you could do were answer questions.

“What brings you to Forks?” He asked.

That was a tough one. “I needed an escape from who I am, though I’m afraid I will never be able to escape that.”

Edward nodded. “I understand that all too well.” Silence filled the rest of the drive back to his home and soon enough you were pulling up to a large glass house.

“Beautiful.” You said smiling at him.

“Thank you, it was all my mother’s idea.” He said. You both got out of the car and hurried up the stairs, not bothering to unload the luggage.

“Welcome, Y/N.” The blonde male vampire said. “My name is Carlisle, and this is Esme.”

Edward stood next to a few others, but you shook hands with Carlisle and Esme first before moving onto the rest of them.

“This is Emmett and Rosalie. Our other two siblings will be back momentarily as they went to get some food.” Edward had said. That elicited a smile from Emmett.

“It’s lovely to meet all of you. I am very thankful that you let me stay in your beautiful home.” You said, bowing your head respectfully.

“Wow.” Emmett said. Rosalie elbowed him in the rib. “What? I haven’t heard an accent like that since your brother joined us.”

That made you smile. “So, there is another Texan here?”

Edward nodded. “He should be back soon.”

You all took a seat in the living room, talking about the different things you had seen, where you came from, how long you had been on the vegetarian diet, etc.

It wasn’t until you heard voices coming through the front door did you see a flashback of your past.

“Jas, I think we should go inside before it starts raining. My momma will be highly upset if she finds out you let me get wet.” You yelled at him.

“Oh, come on, darling. It’s not going to rain. I’ll keep you dry.” He said, pulling you closer to him. You smiled at him, giving his cheek a quick kiss before running away from him.

You stood faster than you could have imagined and so did Edward.

“There’s no way…” He trailed off.

Jasper walked around the corner only to freeze in the door frame.

You both stared at each other, no one saying a word.

“This is weird.” Emmett said, breaking the silence and your concentration.

“Jasper?” You whispered.

He blinked once. “Y/N?”

You didn’t think as you ran across the room and into his arms. If you could cry, you would be bawling.

“I thought you were dead. No one heard from you or about you and you weren’t among those that returned, and I was distraught.” You said.

“I was taken into a different army. One that changed me into who I am today.” He said, pulling back and holding you at arm’s length.

“I never forgot you. I went out looking for you one day and came across this sweet woman who said she would help me look for you. So, we went towards the battlefield, looking for something that I could bring home; any piece of you. She trapped me out there and changed me.” You said. He pulled you back into a hug. “I was so lost for so long.”

“I know, darling. Me too.” He said.

“I knew she was coming and I did my best to hide it from all of you.” Alice said smiling. “Even Edward didn’t know until now.”

“I had an idea that she was coming but not that her and Jasper were long lost lovers.” Edward said.

Jasper pulled back once more and looked at his family. “If you don’t mind, we have over a decade of things to catch up on.” His family waved you guys out and both of you took off running hand in hand into the forest.

After you had ran for a while, Jasper slowed to a stop, pulling you with him.

“I can’t believe it. After all this time.” He said. You smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Jasper, I was so worried. I never wanted to lose hope, but I did after the first twenty years. My heart was so heavy, and I never left you behind.” You said, taking the photo out of your pocket. It had decayed some over the years of constant abuse.

“I wanted to go back, to look for you, but I had become this monster and I couldn’t go to you. I couldn’t let you see who I had become, and I was so afraid that I would never see you again. And then I didn’t, and I felt lost, broken.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, taking the photo in his hands and smiling. “The young Major looks quite handsome doesn’t he, ma’am.”

You smiled at him. “Why sir I do believe he is very handsome. But not as handsome as the man holding me right now.”

“Well, ma’am, this gentleman would like to ask you a very serious question.” He smiled.

You let out a small laugh before smiling up at him. “Go ahead, Jasper.”

“Stay with me, and my family. Let me take care of you like I was supposed to all those years ago.” He said, leaning his forehead against yours.

Smiling again, you nodded. “I would love that.”

He squeezed you tighter to him, brining your chin up so that your lips were mere centimeters from his. “May I kiss you, darling?”

“As much as you like.” You said.

His lips connected to yours in a wave of intense passion and you felt yourself give over to your heart.

“I can’t believe this is for real.” You said to him. “I thought I lost you. I thought I lost the love of my life forever.”

He shook his head. “Well, now I’m here and I’m ready to love you for all eternity.”

Originally posted by ferociousfamine

anonymous asked:

Any easy too read bedtime fics? 😂

Oooh very hard good question !! (basically it’s gonna be fics around 10k I loved, okay?)

- Coming Up For Air  : It’s a long plane ride to LA but sitting beside Harry makes time fly. (11k)

- Now I’ve Got You In My Space       : Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson almost met on X-FactorThey meet on Dancing With The Stars insteadAn Au (10k)

- Unraveling : Harry sat there with his head in his hands trying to figure out why he knew these types of things. He thought over the past few weeks, how he’d just known at certain times what Louis had been thinking or feeling, needing or wanting and it didn’t make sense to him. Until he had the wild thought, “Can I read Louis’s mind?” (10k)

- Just Think of Me As The Pages In Your Diary  : Harry, and Louis’ friends set up a blind date and they hit it up pretty well when they first meet, immediately planning a second date.  But then their friends asked them why they didn’t go on their respective dates, and it turns out that Harry was not Louis’ blind date, and vice versa. They don’t know that the other person knows that though, so they just kind of awkwardly go on dates while falling for each other.  (10k)

- I Love You Most  : Friends with benefits has always been enough for Louis. Until, of course, it isn’t. (12k)

- Worlds Away  : astronaut au fic where Louis is staying on the international space station and Harry is on earth working ground control and he and Louis have really quiet late night chats after most of the workers are gone and get to know each other in the biggest long distance relationship u could ever have…then eventually Louis comes back to earth and they have a beautiful meeting (7k)

- no good unless it grows (feel this burning, love of mine)  : it wasn’t until they were settled in and lying idly on the couch with their bodies intertwined that Harry whispered, holding back tears, “I’m not who I want to be.” Louis leaned down, lips close enough to graze Harry’s cheek, and asked simply, “Well, who do you want to be?” (6k)

- Second Time’s the Charm : Louis’ mother is convinced she met her son’s soulmate at the market. Louis is extremely hesitant to go on the blind date she’s set up, but she’s persistent, begging and pleading, pulling out all the stops. After all, mothers do know best.(Or maybe they don’t.) (8k)

- One day to believe in you        : A mysterious force compels Louis to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Even when it’s really inconvenient.  Harry blinks and has the nerve to look surprised. “You think about me when you get off?”  “Yes,” Louis says. He wonders how hard he’d need to punch himself in the face to knock himself out.  “Often?”  “Yes, Christ, Harry,” Louis groans. “Probably eight times a week for going on six years now. On average, you know. More when we were touring, less when I’ve been visiting family. Anything else you’d like to know?”  (8k)

- on a thousand miles and more  :  "That’s why, after Granada, they decide to stick to the places they went to together.  Retrospectively, maybe that’s when it becomes less of a holiday and more of a pilgrimage. Louis thinks he’s beginning to understand what they’re searching for. It’s something akin to closure, but not closure exactly. Something more tenuous than that. More difficult to put into words.  Something like the first exhalation you take after a particularly horrendous nightmare and you think god, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.   Except that, in their case, it was.“[Harry and Louis go back to the places that made them who they are.] (12k)

- Oh, Fortuna  :  “Hey, Louis,” Eleanor says suddenly, “wasn’t Harry Styles on X-Factor the same year you auditioned?”  “I didn’t know you auditioned for X Factor!” Perrie gasps, as Louis sends a death glare Eleanor’s way, who at least has the decency to look apologetic. “Oh my god, did you meet him?” “Right, I need another drink.” Louis gets up heavily, ignoring Zayn’s concerned look and Eleanor’s guilty one. His head is still fuzzy, but he doesn’t feel warm anymore.
(Or, three years after Louis is sent home at the Judges Houses stage of X-Factor, and Harry finds international fame as a solo artist, they meet again at a local pub in London.)

- What A Feeling To Be A King Beside You  :  “Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson, Duke of Wellington, your highness,” the man, or boy considering he seems to be around Harry’s age or slightly older, says with a wink and a quick bow.  Huh. Duke of Wellington. Harry recalls once meeting the Duke of Wellington. He probably wasn’t a day over 7 years and honestly only remembers a mischievous boy with blue eyes that poured gravy on him. But now that he thinks about it, the Duke in front of him does have pretty, blue eyes as well. He’s also got a nice smile and a beautiful jawline covered in short stubble. His chestnut hair is done up in a perfect quiff and his dark navy suit is perfectly tailored to his body. He’s fit.(Basically: Harry is the Prince of Wales and Louis is the Duke of Wellington. They fall in love.) (17k)

- A Case of You        : Louis lives his life around photographs, and Harry’s a picture he can’t figure out AU where there they all live and work in LA, and the story’s in a song (12k)

there was a reason i collided into you  : AU where Louis and Harry are neighbors who meet in the elevator of their apartment one morning and it becomes a routine for them. Louis pines a lot. Then one day, Harry doesn’t show up at the elevator like he usually does, and well, Louis might panic. (9.5k)

Update (last update on May 5th 2017) under the cut :

Keep reading

The Purest of Love - Thranduil

Based off these headcanons: Thranduil and you having matching outfits + Watching the stars together whenever you have the chance + Playing with Thranduil’s hands because they are so elegant and slender, but strong nonetheless (headcanons not mine, they belong to the respectful owner)

A/N: Agh, my dearest Thranduil was actually happy in this one, yay! *cries in the corner happily while feels devour my soul*

Translations: Tolo ar nin: Come with me, A'maelamin: my beloved, belegon nin: my mighty one, meleth e-guilen: love of my life.

Abbreviations: S/T: Skin Tone, H/C: Hair color

Warnings: None

Words: 1300

A pair of slender, able arms encircled my waist as I adjusted the circlet of crimson flora that wreathed my head, now resting seamlessly atop my brow. The soft pressure of tender, suckling lips against the S/T skin of my neck elicited a satisfied hum from my chest as my husband’s platinum tendrils tumbled like water over my shoulder, contrasting elegantly with the corresponding paraphernalia that hung proudly from both Thranduil and I’s frames. The embroidery of aegean vines against the sterling silks blended together to seem as if Thranduil and I’s bodies had been joined, accompanying our already bonded minds and hearts.

Keep reading

Ink (M)

Genre: Smut, angst, badboy!Tae (kinda)
Word count: 7470
Description: Kim Taehyung is nothing less than a storm, contained in a human body, ready to lash out if you get too close. But you have been careful for way too long already.
Warnings: Mature content, mentions of depression
Author’s note: So I had a dream about Tae having tattoos and started writing this, trying to make him a bad boy but it turned out a bit more emotional than I intended it to… :D Also I’ve been struggling with finishing this for much longer than usually so I don’t know how it came out… (Not to mention it came out way longer than I intended)

You barged into Taehyung’s room ready to question the man what was taking him so long, but stopped in your tracks at the view of his bare back, tattoos eating up at his skin from his right shoulder blade, as if threatening to devour the rest of his milky skin soon enough. With the tempo Taehyung was going at, you wouldn’t doubt that actually.

Keep reading

Only Fools Rush In (Lin x Reader)

Summary: Your best friend, Lin, fake proposes to you in order to get free dessert. His words stir up some not-so-platonic feelings in you. 

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Warnings: Probably explicit language 

A/N: An alternative title for this was: Let’s See How Many Times I Can Purposely Call Lin’s Sorta Girlfriend The Wrong Name

YOU’RE in the process of removing your stage makeup from your face when there is a sharp knock on your dressing room door. “One second,” You shout, grabbing the shirt off the back of your chair and pulling it over your head. “Come in,” You call out and the door pushes open.

“Nice job out there, Angelica.” Lin says as a greeting. He yawns loudly and drops down onto the couch. You smile to yourself, “You weren’t too bad either, Hamilton.”

You throw the makeup wipe into the small trashcan and turn your attention to Lin, “You know what my favourite part of the show is?”

Keep reading

Happiness is a Warm Gun

Joker x Reader

Masterlist | Requests

Prompt: Hey, I just wanted to say I ABSOLUTLY ADORE your writing and I was wondering if you could do a piece were Puddin captures the reader and gets her to strip for him? Very kinky, very dirty smutty smutty smutty smut.

{A/N} I had fun with this, honestly, thank you haha. More of your requests are coming! Thank you for being patient, I’m doing them in the order I receive them!
xo Harley

Warnings: Some violence/abuse, cursing, very kinky, very dirty smutty smutty smutty smut. Also gun play, sorta, so theres that.

The rain seemed to spill from buckets onto the windows of your small apartment. A {F/B} LP spins on your record player as it clashes with the sounds outside. A warm cup of tea keeps your left hand occupied as your right one holds the novel Lolita. As gloomy as the day was, you enjoyed this every time the rain fell, and took solace in the company of your favorite band, a book, a cup of tea and your cat.

Your life was never very eventful, and you have no set direction or calling, but you always valued the little things in life. After all, it’s the little things that add up to the grand scheme of things, and you take solace in it. Reading and tea is good enough for you, and you knew that much about yourself. 

You’re not the girl who goes out and parties, or subdues herself with violent or dangerous vices. After seeing how old friends turned out from just that, you were okay with your vanilla habits. 

 You take a sip from your {F/T} tea and run your hand along your cats tail as {he/she} hops off of the plush bench in the alcove and runs into the other room. Strange.. you think, putting your tea down and setting the open book on the cushion before you get up and walk to your room to grab a cat toy to entertain {her/him}. As you push the door open further, your eyes land on a man standing in front of your large, full length mirror, checking himself out, startling you to say the least as your eyes pop open and your hand grips onto the door. 

“This jacket, it’s new. But I think it really looks good on a guy.. What do you think?” He says, keeping his eyes on his own reflection. 

You’re unsure if he can see you in the mirror, but your eyes stay glued to his shoes, almost burning holes into them as your mind hastily runs through files of information that you may have come across in your years that could possibly help you in a situation like this. Your first thought is to quickly run back into the kitchen and grab a knife, but what if he’s got a gun? 

Trying to quietly swallow hard, your eyes move upwards. He’s slender, built and so, very cocky. His stance is that of a man who knows exactly what he’s worth and who he is, and something about it is almost attractive as you carry on, now more curious, to his face in the mirror. He was pale, and the dark purple trench coat only brought out the green in his hair. His face has tattoos and his icy gaze could mesmerize you without question. Quickly and completely by accident, your eyes now catch each other’s in the mirror, and the smile that slides across his face is nothing short of devilish.

A mixture of emotions course through your tense body as he turns slowly, a mock frown turning on his lips. 

“Don’t be scared, sweetie pie, daddy just wants to play with you a little..”

“Daddy?” You ask. 

It wasn’t really in your repertoire to call someone daddy. You haven’t been quite a sexual person with anyone else, and it wasn’t that you haven’t had experience, you just weren’t sure you ever found someone who really made your heart jump from your chest enough. 

“Oh,” a long laugh emits from his ruby red stained lips, and you can make out every “ha ha” as he does so. “I’m gonna teach you a few things, baby doll.”

Your shoulders slide back, and you turn your cheek slightly. Now would be the time to grab a knife, you think. But something in you pulls at the thought of him. Pulls at the thought of calling him daddy. You’re unsure of the feeling between your thighs as he slowly turns around to face you now, revealing his bare torso riddled with tattoos. 

“Joker..” you read out loud, still rather quietly as your eyes fixate on the lettering above his naval. 

“That’s my name, doll, don’t wear it out,” he says, his voice gravely as takes a step in your direction. “And you, {Y/N}, are one sizzlin’ lady." 

His eyes fall on your exposed shoulder from the oversized sweater you had on before he walks towards your closet, shaking his head. 

I want you to show it off for me…“ 

 Still in shock, you’re watching as he starts thumbing through hangers in your closet, completely making himself at home. How does he know my name? I’ve never seen him before in my life but… Your mind recalls the television broadcasts and news articles about him. They all seem to run through your head like an old film reel and your heart begins to quicken all over again. 

"You’re gonna kill me.” You say, your voice hollow. 

The words seemed to slow down the world, and you could only think of your cat who’d miss you terribly. 

“Oh I’m not gonna kill ya… I’m gonna hurt ya, and you might like it.” He says, yanking a little {F/C} dress from a hanger, breaking it in the process. “Put this on.” He says, throwing it at you. 

You instinctively catch the dress in your hands, flustered and confused. 


You move to the bathroom, removing your clothes and slipping into the dress. Even you couldn’t help but like what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but you’d only bought that dress on impulse, and you remembered that as you pulled off the tag. 

You emerge from the bathroom, and he coincidently chucks the pair of black heels you bought to pair with the dress. 

"Be a good little girl, put on your shoes, and lets go." 

You begin to panic now, afraid of going anywhere. 

"I’m not going anywhere with you!” You say, throwing your shoes back at him. “Go away!" 

 The trembling starts in your fingers and makes its way to the rest of your body as his cold stare meets your terrified one. In what feels like only seconds, he pulls a sash from his pocket, grabs your wrists and ties them together. Trying to fight him was the only thing you could think to do, but as soon as he let go, the bones in your wrists were pressing together, and the sash was digging into your flesh, feeling like it could cut off your circulation. 

“Fucker!” You manage to say as he pushes you onto the floor, taking your shoes and angrily putting them on for you.

“If you don’t wanna take the easy route, kitten, I have no problems with it,” he spits as he finished putting your shoes on, yanking you back up by your arm and dragging you through your apartment and out of the door. You whimper, wondering if you should take the chance in the empty street and call for help. You were on the bottom floor, and your door lead right outside, surely someone would hear you.

“Help! Somebody! Please, help m-”

Before you know it, you’re slammed against the wall, and theres a stinging on your cheek. Blinking a few times, your slowly turn your head back to face him. The hues of blue in his eyes up close look almost clear as you try to compose yourself. His expression is stern, and you feel compelled to listen to him now, and the feeling between your thighs is back, stronger now.

“What did I say about being a good little girl for daddy? I don’t want to ruin that pretty little face before I get to devour that, hot little body..”

His hand slides to the inside of your thigh, running his fingers up and down slowly, and you can almost see his expression change in just the least as he teases himself with the warmth of your skin in such a place. Your chest rises as falls, and as horrified as you were at the thought of something so gruesome, some, strange man kidnapping you and attempting at having you the way he wants, you couldn’t help but be aroused.

A jagged laugh leaves his lips as his eyes fall on your chest, noticing your erect, pierced nipples under the thin fabric of your dress. 

“Oh, you are a little freak, too. That’s okay… Just, like, me.”

Your piercings were a small show of rebellion for yourself. Just because you don’t do drugs or party every night, doesn’t mean you can’t do things that seem taboo to other people in other ways. 

He peels you off of the wall and pulls you to his purple Lamborghini, which stood out at your building to begin with. You wondered for a moment how you didn’t hear it earlier, once he threw you inside and turned on the car himself. The music was loud, thudding through the entire area, and he steps on the gas and speeds off, while you inwardly panic, planning an escape as soon as you get to where every you’re going.

“Hey honey, I gotta ask a big favor,” his voice roars, cocky and thick with a smile above the engines own roar and the musics loudness. “Maybe I’m wrong, but does this smell like chloroform to you?” 

He holds a rag to your nose and mouth, and you begin to scream, trying to wriggle away from it. The last thing you hear is his laughter as everything goes black and quiet around you. Oh his laughter.. When he pulled his little joke on you, it sounded like he was the happiest man on earth. 

Everything is hazy, blurry and fading either in or out- you can’t tell- as your eyes blink. The light around you is dim, and you try to move away, panic setting in slowly again as you come to. As you struggle to open your eyes more, praying it was all a bad dream, you see a blurry figure, sitting on a couch in front of you. The figure has green hair, no shirt, and pale skin. You want to cry, scream for help, but you’re too weak. 

Little by little, adrenaline kicks in, causing you to wake up more.

“Look at that mascara, running down those cheeks for me. God, you’re so pretty..” 

“I’m not doing anything for you!” You cry out, noticing you’re in the VIP area of a club as you scream over the music. You knew you were done for now, everyone was drunk, no one cared or paid any attention. No one would help.

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says, bringing his tattooed hand over his mouth as he watches you struggle to sit up. 

You notice the grin tattooed on his hand and you can’t help but be curious about it for only a second as you stare back at him once you’ve finally managed to sit up.

“What to do with you, my doll.. What to do..”

You stay quiet. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Surely not in a public place would he do something drastic to you. 

“Hey boss, we have a-”

“Shut up and get out,” Joker replies to his goon, pulling a gun and aiming it at him. You squeak and jump at the sight of the gun, tears welling up in your eyes again as the man holds his hands up and leaves. 

Fuck. He owns the place.

“Get up,” he tell you, pointing the gun at you now. 

This is it. I’m fish food when he’s done. 

You stand up, trembling just slightly again as you try to gain balance after being drugged and scared in your high heels. He stands up now, and steps closer to you. Your eyes stay on whats going on on the other side of the beaded curtain that separates you from the rest of the club. Trying to find an escape, if only in your mind, you concentrate on the people, the music, everything but what’s happening to you.

Suddenly, you feel your hands fall apart and your wrists gaining more feeling. Your initial thought is to run, but knowing (or thinking) that you can get away, you stay put. His hand reaches out for your face, trailing it to your {H/C} hair, and sliding his fingers through it. His fingertips graze the back of your neck, and your skin crawls. There’s that feeling again.

His hand continues to slide down your back, cupping your ass just slightly as he slides it back up, quickly bringing the gun to your back with his other hand as he whispers in your ear, his voice sultry and dark.

Strip for me..”

The gun on your back leaves as he slides it around to your side and walks back to the couch. Sitting down, Joker leans back into the plush leather, gun in one hand as he gestures towards you to start.

“Do not, keep daddy waiting.”

The gun in his hand was terrifying and yet sexy, and you exhale as you bring your hands back to your own body, sliding your fingers along your hips. You’ve never stripped for anyone before, and this was not your ideal first time.. But catching sight of the arousal in his pants already may have changed your mind as you slide your fingers up to the straps of your dress. Your body begins to sway softly to the music thudding in the club as your slide the straps off of your shoulders one by one, letting your fingers caress every curve and divot of your figure again.

Wanting to tease him, your hands go for the bottom of your short dress as you turn around, sliding it up slowly to expose your {B/T} thighs more. You roll your head back, your {H/L} hair falling over your shoulders as you spread your legs just a bit more, exposing one cheek and cupping your own ass before bending over to show it all to him. You catch him shifting in his seat, leaning forward on his knees now as you roll your body back up slowly, turning around to face him again and lifting your dress slowly as you walk closer towards him, standing between his legs now.

You were already wet at the mere fact that you were doing this for him, especially in a sea of people, and his eyes were still only on you. His hands reach out and grip into your thighs as you slide your dress up further, exposing your glistening essence to him. He leans in and kisses your thigh, tingling every bit of skin his lips grace. You push him back slightly, sudden confidence coursing through you, and he lifts a brow, his expression almost screaming ‘oh really now?’ 

A smile slides across his features as your hands slide back up, your fingers sliding between your breasts. Your hands glide over the fabric again before they cut your breasts. You let your fingers run over your nipples as you bite your lip, pulling on one of them. A soft groan escapes you as you find yourself doing this more for you at the moment, and he’s salivating just watching. His hands move along your legs as you pull at the top of your dress now, just barely exposing your nipples him. The look in his eyes is almost pained as you stop. A smirk slides across your features as you make eye contact with him now. 

“That’s my good girl.. I knew you had it in ya..”

Your hair is a mess, your skin is almost damp from the heat of the room and of the moment, and you giggle just slightly through lowered eyelids as you slide the rest of your dress down slowly. Bringing it over your hips, you let it fall around your heels. 

“Do I get to have you in me, daddy?” You ask, a big grin on your face now as you look at him. It almost feels like something in you snapped, and you just want to act on instinct. 

“Oh baby doll..” he groans, unbuttoning his pants and leaning in to kiss your thighs. You could tell he was proud of you and something in that gave you butterflies. His kisses led from your thigh up to your hip, his mouth trailing only inches away from your folds. He breathes against you before delving in, his tongue sliding along your slit. You moan, a hand playing with his green hair as the other pulls on your nipple. His tongue darts over your clit over and over and you almost laugh at the pleasure coursing through you.

He pulls back, grabbing your shoulders and turning your around, bending you over the table in front of the couch. He takes a long, clean cloth napkin and wrings it up, slapping your ass with it before pulling it back over your mouth and gagging you as your hands grip onto the table. His hand drags over the napkin and trails back to your hair, gripping into it and yanking it back. He grabs his gun with the other hand and glides the the end of the barrel over your back, the cold metal giving you chills. 

You can feel it sliding over your ass, stopping as he holds it at your sweet spot. 

“Happiness is a warm gun, ain’t it?” He growls, sliding it up and down your core again as you moan under the gag. You hang your head before he pulls it back by your hair. Instinctively, you move your hips to press further into his gun, letting it glide against your wetness now as he slips it between your folds further.

“Ask daddy nicely, and maybe I’ll give you want you want..” He coos, still gliding the gun agonizingly slow along your core.

Please beg through the makeshift gag. In a rush, you feel his torso on your back and see the gun next to your face. He couldn’t wait any longer, torturing himself at the sight of you like this for him. What he had only seen around town as a sweet, innocent girl, being so dirty, so naughty just for him. His game was corruption, and everyone knew it. He uses a few fingers to pull the gag down from your mouth as he pushes himself into your core, sending a wave of pleasure from your essence to your head and your toes. A loud moan leaves you as he grunts, sliding in and out of your wetness.

“Lemme hear you moan for daddy, huh kitten?”

Almost on cue, you moan for him, unable to take the heat between your thighs now as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. He presses his wet gun against your lips, leaning down further to watch as you take the now warm gun into your mouth, sucking on it as he continues to throw you both into ecstasy. 

A loud, satisfied hoot leaves him as he continues to push into you, growing sloppier by the second. You can hear him laugh as he bites into your shoulder, trailing down your back with bruises until he stands up straight.


“More, daddy..” you beg with a grin as his hand makes contact with your ass again and again. His hands reach for your hips and he pulls you back into him roughly as he reaches his climax, the feeling only guiding you into yours. 

One more slap stings your ass as he pulls out of you, a sort of “job well done” one this time as you pant, leaning down further on the table and loosening your grip on the edge. He squeezes your ass before turning around, buttoning his pants again and sliding a hand back through his emerald hair. The dress lands next to you as he tosses it back, looking around the room back on his guard as he wards off any stares that they may have attracted with his own icy glare as you stand back up, sliding into your {F/C} dress again. You smooth it out, and attempt to smooth out your hair while you turn back to him, half sitting on the table as you kick a leg up, leaning back on your arms and biting your lip.

“You’re gonna do just nicely at my side..” he says as he turns around, admiring a bruise already surfacing on your clavicle. 

Close Quarters

A/N: Anon request for a Spencer x Reader where the reader is really flirty and hits on him a lot, so Spencer doesn’t really know how to react. One day, they get stuck somewhere, and the reader mentions her interest (the request was for teasing, but I switched it up because I wasn’t sure what to tease him about). He kisses her and some smutty smut ensues. @coveofmemories @sweetg


“You do realize she likes you, right?” Morgan said, motioning across the bullpen toward Y/N.

Spencer’s face dropped in confusion, the corners of his mouth stretching out into a grimace of sorts. “You think she likes me?”

“No, I don’t think, I know,” Morgan laughed. Y/N was constantly doing all those little things that one associated with flirting. Since she started, she’d taken any opportunity possible to get Reid to notice her advances. Nearly every morning, his coffee would be waiting on his desk, a little heart  adorning the outside in marker. If he was feeling down, she’d put her hand lovingly on his arm; she didn’t do that with everyone. She always laughed at his corny jokes and she seemed genuinely interested in his ramblings, whether they be about work or Star Wars. “She is absolutely into you.”

For weeks Spencer had wondered if she was actually flirting with him or whether he was reading into something that wasn’t there. He wasn’t good with this kind of thing and he didn’t want to assume that she liked him like that - maybe she was just being nice. Just last week, they were out on assignment together and he’d been rambling about the board game Parcheesi; he couldn’t even remember how they’d gotten onto the topic, but as per usual, he’d been rambling. 

“You know Parcheesi is actually the Americanized version of the Indian game Parchisi, which is the younger sibling of a game called Chaupar. That was a slightly more intricate version of Parcheesi played by Indian aristocracy, specifically Mogul Emperor Akbar, not the one from Star Wars…” He’d looked over to see her smiling from ear-to-ear, listening intently to his coffee-fueled Star Wars/Parcheesi ramblings. Spencer felt like he should’ve stopped there, but once he got started, he couldn’t stop himself. “In fact, Akbar made a life-size version of the game that he played in his palace gardens, using harem girls as the pawns.”

“Oh my god, what a tool,” she’d laughed, placing her hand on his arm. “Well, maybe you and I can play the American board game one of these days. I haven’t played it since I was a kid. I used to love it.”

A normal guy would’ve made a move at that point, actually, they probably would’ve made a move a million years ago, but Spencer couldn’t actually comprehend her interest, so he said nothing and changed the conversation back to work. 

Snapping back to the present moment, Spencer sat down at his desk just as Hotch called for him. “Reid, can you and Y/N take a look down in the file room for the Beyer case file from 20 years ago? It’s one of the few we haven’t put into the digital system yet and I’d like to give it to Garcia.”

Giving him a nod, Spencer called over to Y/N, who was fixing her third cup of coffee for the day. “Hotch needs the file on Beyers. Can you help me?”

“Anything for you, Spencer,” she smiled warmly, placing the coffee on her desk and heading with him toward the elevator. They hit the button for the file room and watched as the doors closed with Y/N playfully punching Spencer’s arm. She liked doing that a lot, and Spencer didn’t want to admit he thought it was cute. Lights flickered as they moved down floor after floor, when all of a sudden the movements ground down to a halt. “What just happened?” she asked.

This had happened to Spencer once before on a case; he was with Morgan at the time, and the elevator had been much more rickety. “I’m gonna say that considering the lights also went out, the building lost power.”

“Damn snow.” It had been slightly snowy and amazingly windy since this morning and apparently the power lines couldn’t take it anymore, so they were stuck. 

In reality only five minutes had passed since the power went out, but the silence that hung between, as well as something else Spencer didn’t know how to describe, made it feel so much longer. More than once, he’d heard a sharp intake of breath come from her. She seemed like she wanted to say something. “Spencer?” she asked. “Do you like me? Like, romantically? Because I like you and I’ve been dropping hints. I don’t know whether you haven’t reciprocated because you don’t feel that way or because you just weren’t aware that I’ve been flirting with you.”

“I…” he started, not knowing exactly what to say. When he looked up though, he could see the question in her eyes, the absolute need to know. Instead of saying anything more, he closed the space between them, pressing his lips to hers before realizing there was a camera in the elevator.

As he pulled away, she caught sight of what he was looking at. “The power’s down. It means the camera’s off,” she breathed, taking his face in her hands and turning him toward her again. “Kiss me.”

With a deep breath, he took another step toward her, backing her into the corner under the camera and bracing his hands on either side of her body. He swallowed hard as she snaked her hands inside his jacket, wrapping her arms around his waist. Once his tongue slipped into her mouth and they began to devour each other with no thoughts of the consequences of getting caught, she gently tugged at the shirt underneath her grasp. “I’m sorry,” she said, bringing her hands up to his face. She was going to quickly without any regard for whether he was comfortable or not. She’d wanted him for so long that hormones and need had outweighed everything else. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his heated breath floating around her neck. “Did I do something wrong?” Maybe he was a horrible kisser and she wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He tucked his hair behind his ear as she smiled at him.

“You did nothing wrong, Spencer. I’ve wanted you for a very long time, but I’m moving quickly without any regard for anything but my own need and that’s not okay. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” Looking up at the camera and around the enclosed elevator, she wondered how much longer they would have to be in here - things might be about to get awkward.

Once again, her eyes darted to his lips, but just as she was about to push away to make this a little less awkward, he rolled his body into hers, taking her mouth in another body-searing kiss. “I want you too, Y/N,” he muttered, tangling his hands in her hair. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. I just don’t know how to go about these types of things.”

With a smile, she lifted her right leg up, resting it on his hip. His hand drifted to her bottom, tugging her pencil skirt up just enough that he could touch her heated center. “Are you sure you don’t know how to go about these kinds of things?” she giggled into his ear, a gasp stuttering its way out of her as his digits slid against her core. “You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

His thumb grazed her cheek as their tongues danced around each other. From behind, his fingers inched ever closer to her clit, her panties dampening with need for him. “Do you think you can make me come before the elevator starts up again?”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He always did love a challenge. In response, he pressed his fingers deeper into her wet heat, watching as her eyes fluttered closed at his touch. “To answer your question, yes I think I can.”

She giggled into his ear, nibbling at the tender flesh at his neck as he worked his fingers against her aching sex. Thank god there were no eyes on them right now, no other ears within distance to hear her whimper for him. “More,” she commanded, reaching underneath his jacket once more to grab at his ass and bring him closer to her. “Make me come.”

Bringing his hand toward her front, he cupped her sex with his palm, rubbing gentle circles against her clit as his fingers slid inside. “Oh fuck,” she groaned, seeing the elevator lights go on out of nowhere. “New challenge, can you make me come before we get down to the file room floor.”

With renewed determination, he hooked his two fingers inside her, pulling them forward in that ‘come hither’ motion that brought the sweet, intense pressure to her innermost core. As the beginnings of an orgasm rolled through her, she grabbed his head in both hands and bit down on his bottom lip, which caused him to increase the pressure he was torturing her with. “Fuck, Spencer, oh my god.” Even though the wall was holding her up on one side and Spencer had her in his arms, she practically collapsed from the intensity of it all. “You won.”

“I think I won too,” he chuckled, taking his fingers into his mouth to taste her sweetness much to her surprise. “Actually I think I might have won more.” Just as Y/N ironed out the wrinkles in her skirt and Spencer readjusted his shirt, the doors opened with her walking out first and Spencer close behind. 

As they made their way to the file room, they overheard a conversation between two other agents they didn’t know that well. “I knew the power wouldn’t be out for long, we have backup generators,” the one man said. 

“Yea, I know,” his friend said, pressing the button for the elevator. “They have the backup generator so they can turn it on immediately. That way they don’t have to be without the cameras for long.”

Both Spencer and Y/N stopped dead in their tracks. Spencer sucked in his lips and Y/N bit down on hers. “The cameras were on?” he asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Oops.”

Of chemises and mermaids

I hope I’m not to late for Jonerys Smut Fest 2k17 anyway here’s my smut it’s very tame buuutttt it’s my first time writting smut

Anyway, as a closer for Nasty Night, here it is!

-My lords, ladies, King and Queen, please be seated. – said Tyrion raising his hands.

Ladies Karstark, Mormont, Lords Manderly, Royce, Davos, Sansa, Arya and Daenerys and Jon sat down at the grand table. Alys and Lyanna were sitting between Manderly and Royce, Davos and Sansa on the head of the table, Daenerys, Arya and Jon on the other side. Tyrion was standing on it, holding some papers and explaining the treaty with the South.

-And my sister promised not to murder anyone.-

Daenerys poured herself some wine.

-How can we be certain?—

-We can’t.-

Daenerys put down the cup.

-Well, that is unfortunate.-

Jon was mentally absent. His mind was tied up in tactics on how it the best to defeat the Walkers. Then he noticed the small pale hand with a ring adorned with two pearls shimmering in the light, tapping the table in front of him. His own fingers reached out to hers, first grazing them and then carefully intertwining with them, their hands clasped together. Daenerys didn’t stop talking until she looked down. She felt a soft blush crawl up her cheeks. Taking the goblet of wine she just poured, she took a large sip out of it, as if trying to cover it up. Tyrion sat down finally, locking eyes with Davos who just looked shocked. Then the maid came in, bowed and told them supper is almost ready. Jon brought up her hand and kissed it, causing everyone on the table to raise an eyebrow and slowly realized where he was, the looks around him and the terrified look his lover gave him, causing him to put her hand down carefully. Daenerys licked her lips and sipped the wine again.

The King and Queen were blushing in front of everyone. Jon placed his hands awkwardly on the table, while Dany put hers behind her back. Silence covered the room like thick coat of snow that the maid stopped when she came with their food. The nobles ate in quiet until Sansa broke the ice finally.

-The stew is amazing.-

-It is! Reminds me of my Marya’s stew!-

Everyone nodded in agreement although no one ever has tasted the cooking of Davos’ wife.

-My King, are there any future marriage plans? After all, you need heirs.-

Dany stirred in her seat and Jon took her cup accidentally and drank from it. Everyone noticed again.

-I think, after the Great War is over, we will open this theme for further discussion.-

-You know, my granddaughters, Wylla and Wynafryd are eligible for marriage. They are both virgins, bled, kind and true Northerners.  – Said Manderly while looking at Daenerys.

Jon nodded and poured more wine, thinking it was ale into Daenerys’ goblet. He rose an eyebrow at the red colour but decided to drink it.

-We should save this topic for later. I doubt you want me as a grandson-in-law.-

-Everyone would want you as a grandson or son-in-law, Your Grace.-

He took a sip and turned to Dany.

-Is this one of those from Meeren?-

She nodded, raising her eyebrows.

-Gods, it’s sour. Who put this wine in my cup?-

-That’s my cup, Jon Snow.-

At the name Jon Snow, Lady Mormont rose an eyebrow, looking at them. Now that she actually paid attention, she saw they we’re sitting close. Too close to be appropriate for an unwedded couple. Both of them looked extremely comfortable with each other, also the looks they were exchanging could be described as heated. The Little Bear noticed the way the corners of his lips rose for a second while he was looking at her. She had a smirk and rolled her eyes.

They broke their gazes and the man nodded.

-My apologies, Your Grace, I drank your wine without offering you anything it return.-

-I think if we keep tabs on our mutual debts we shall never come to an agreement, Your Grace.-

-We might be completely different, but I am glad that we share a military alliance.-

She took the goblet from his hand and rose it, drinking the rest of the wine. His lips curved at the motion and he licked them, hungrily. Manderly got up from his seat.

-Perhaps I can bring over my granddaughters for you to meet them. They are here in Winterfell, after all.-

Sansa nodded.

-It would be an honor, my lord.-

Jon was about to decline the offer but Sansa and Glover shut him down. Daenerys excused herself and got up, the blood red cape flowing behind her. Jon Snow got up and ran after her, but she was fast and the sound of heels clinking made him crazy.

-Dany! Wait!-

-This is beyond disrespectful! Am I your whore?-

He backed a step down, feeling the flames poking their heads out, ready to devour him. Jon Snow had a thing for women who could murder him in cold blood.

-No, love, Manderly is just trying to seize as much power as he can. And no, you are not my whore, because I am your whore already.-

She put her arms around her body.

-I am Queen and yet I am looked down upon like a common courtesan. They only see me as your mistress with an army…-

-If they were aware of how many lives you saved my love…- He took her hands in his and kissed them both. He went up and kissed her neck, sucking and leaving bite marks, she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, her head falling back. He pushed her back against the wall and started undoing the clasps of her coat, kissing, sucking and biting her skin. She was already undoing his jerkin when he slid the coat of her shoulders, leaving her decollate exposed. He returned to her lips but they were interrupted by Manderly’s voice.

-Your Grace! My granddaughters are here! - He said in a sing-song voice.

Dany fell out of Jon’s hands and pushed their foreheads together. She bit his lip and let it go.

-You need to go there. We’ll continue later.-

-Then you must come, love. - He extended his arm and they walked down the stairs together. The King and Queen entered together, shoulder by shoulder (actually shoulder by neck), as equals. Jon took up his seat in the makeshift throne room, the Great Hall, by the table. Dany sat down on a chair away from the table, crossing her legs, while the Stark sisters sat down at the benches, opposing Glover and Ladies Mormont and Karstark.

Lord Manderly walked in followed by two slim blonde girls. One had dark blonde hair and the other one lighter, but with washed out green streaks. They both wore similar dark blue gowns with collars ebmbroidered with sea motifs, and the girl with the darker hair wore a hairpiece made out of seashells, while the green haired one had a large brooch with a merman on her left side. They curtsied for the King and smiled at him.

-Your Grace, may I present to you, my granddaughters, Wynafryd and Wylla.-

-Welcome, my ladies.-

-We’ve been here for a week, Your Grace.-

-I was not aware of that, I am very sorry. I suppose you have not met our guests? - He said while pointing at Daenerys.

-No, my King.-

-This is Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar…-

They gave Daenerys a brief curtsy.

-My King, both of my granddaughters are young, fertile and virgins. You will see they’re humble and respectable noblewomen.-

-Good to know. - Said Arya under her breath. Sansa giggled.

An awkward silence followed.  

Daenerys eyed Jon and he nodded at her.

-Now, what is your true purpose here?-

The two girls looked at each other in panic.

-And this is where old man Manderly messed up. - Whispered Arya.

-They look so lost, poor ladies. - Whispered Sansa.

-They want him for the crown. She actually loves him. – Whispered Arya back, pointing her chin towards the Dragon Queen. Sansa stared at her profile. She was beautiful, but she did have wilful streak, but what enchanted people was definitely her charisma and grace. She radiated charm, it was like a warm sun that you’d love to soak in, as if she was a sea and a bystander was just a small boat on it, feeling the sea’s power. She changed positions so her back was now resting on the chair, arm on the arm rests and legs crossed. What was interesting to watch were Jon’s reaction’s to her position shifts. He bit his lips, eyes radiating desire. Never had any of the Stark sisters seen their brother behaving like that. Yes, Sansa recalled Robb’s and Theon’s quests back in the day, but that seemed like in another life. Jon was always reserved, he never even ventured with them to a brothel.

She looked at the Dragon Queen. She was giving Jon a similar look and turned her head, so her hair tumbled down her shoulders. She rose an eyebrow at him and smirked and he looked up.

-My ladies, shall we continue our conversation tomorrow? Her Grace and I need to discuss an important matter. We need to divide some food resources among the North and South.-

-Perhaps we all can eat tomorrow together? - Suggested one of the girls.

-Of course!-

They nodded at the King, as they had no other option. He extended his arm towards Daenerys and she got up, walked past him, swaying her hips. Jon inhaled deeply and went after her.

Arya laughed out loud now.

-I love how they’re past decency.-

Daenerys ventured through the halls of Winterfell, looking around. Jon finally caught up with her, grabbed her and leaned on a door.

-So many clothes… How much clothes do you wear…-

-This is a cold place, Jon Snow…-

He kicked the door behind them with his heel and opened it. He was out of breath now. The cloak fell of his back on the floor, just as her dragon brooch and sash. He undid the top of her coat, revealing her breast. He started kissing down her neck, slowly, sucking now and there, earning a moan.

-Not so hasty, my Queen…- His raspy voice made her melt again. Who would have thought that someone could use her title and say it in such a tone that made her quiver? She took of his jerkin leaving him in his undershirt only.

He took of her coat finally and threw in on the floor. Her pants followed soon, so she was left in her chemise only.

-It’s not fair that I’m the only one getting undressed, Jon Snow.-

-Very well, my Queen. – How can a man that honest say something so formal in such a dirty and mocking tone?

He was left only in his pants by now, hands tracing her body.

-Are you just going to stare at me?-

With that, he jumped on her, they fell on his bed. He rolled up the soft gray chemise, leaving her hips bare and started kissing them. He licked his lips and proceeded to lick hers too. She moaned and threw her head back, propping herself up with her elbows. And then he hit a spot she didn’t expect him to even graze. The sound out of her mouth was very unqueenly and birds flew of the roofs of Winterfell. In the room bellow, Davos Seaworth was trying to go through some reports with Tyrion Lannister.

-What in the world was that?-

-I don’t think we would want to know, Sir Davos. Proceed. – The Imp grinned and finished his goblet.

She took of her chemise and threw it on the bedpost and undid Jon’s pants. She climbed atop of him, giving him a bite on the collar bone. He slid his member inside of her slowly, her back arching. She intertwined their fingers, palms against palms and looked him in the eyes.

-My turn.-

He wouldn’t mind dying again now. Not with the lovely sight atop of him. He grabbed the muscle of years of horse and dragon riding, along her thighs and ass. She rolled and jumped up and down, causing him to let out a loud moan. He groaned again, this time louder. She stared at the soft gray chemise at the bedpost.

-I might have an idea.-

Downstairs, Tyrion and Davos looked up at the celling. Sansa entered the room carrying some unfinished paperwork, Arya following her with a puppy in her arms.

-I need a solution to distribute grain between… What in the world was that?-

A man groaned upstairs. Sansa’s mouth dropped. Arya grinned.

-Is that what I think it is?-


-We’ll it better be or I’m going up.-


She snickered, covering the puppy’s ears.

-I love how they gave up on being subtle.-

Dany fell on the bed, exhausted, panting. She looked up at the celling and exhaled.

-Mind untying me?-

-I could leave you like that. Lock the room up, and come back whenever I want.-

-That sounds lovely, but the other way around. Please, my arms hurt. – He pouted.

She rolled her eyes and moved over to untie him, purposely showing her breast in his face. He inhaled deeply between the two mounds of skin and tried to remain calm. She laid back, soaking in the air on naked skin. He stretched his arms, torso and neck splattered with purple love bites.

-This was…-


-Amazing. The first time we had sex was less… adventurous. Where did you see that trick?-

-Dothraki make love in public. They’re much more creative that the Westerosi, I suppose.-

Jon hugged her, flushing their bodies together, giving her a deep kiss.

-It’s late, we need some sleep. - He pulled the covers back and they fell asleep. Now, Jon slept like the dead. The Wall could fall on his head while he was asleep. Daenerys woke up first as usual and decided to soak in the peace and serenity of being in the arms of the man she loved. And then there was a knock on the door.

-Your Grace! You’re needed downstairs!-

Dany got up and panicked. She shook Jon but he barely moved. She started searching for her clothes, but in the darkness of the room she was only able to find Jon’s shirt, which thankfully covered her torso and crotch up. She was no stranger to nudity, but she was already under scrutiny here.

-Your Grace? Is everything alright?-

She opened the door so that her eyes could just be seen and smiled at the maid.

-Oh, is this the wrong room? - Asked the green-haired Manderly girl.

-No, these are the King’s rooms…- Said the maid, looking Daenerys up and down. Her hair was a mess, lips swollen, neck covered with dark speaks, and there was one word to describe her. Ravished. Completely, utterly ravished. She tried to close the door but the maid was insisting.

-Is His Grace here?-

The two ladies looked the Queen up and down. She was a beautiful woman, small, but stunning. She had perfectly curved hips which were visible now as she was leaning on the doorway. Her violet eyes were wide and she was trembling almost, the shirt she wore was clearly a man’s, as it was too large for her.

-I don’t think so…-

-Daenerys, love? What is going on?-

The Queen pinched her nose bridge. He sleeps like the dead and decides to wake up the exact moment she needs him to be asleep. She heard a rustling in the background, the unmistakable sound of a man putting pants on and getting up. He was shirtless and sleepy and yawned. The King positioned himself on the doorway, one hand on the handle the other one around his consort.

-I bid you good morning, my ladies.-

The three women giggled.

-The Queen and I have some matters to attend to, but we will be at the table in half an…- He noticed what Dany was wearing and that her bare ass was pressed against his crotch.

-Make it an hour.-

He closed the door.

The three women giggled.

-Grandfather is going to be so mad!-

-The King seems to be besotted, I mean busy attending other matters.-

-What else did he mine on Dragonstone I wonder?-



Arya Stark was sitting at the window.

-You caught them too?-

-You did also? Where?-

-In the halls once. I love how they’re past the point of hiding.-

a DnD confession

I have a DnD confession to make which might be interesting to someone, or past experience to the rest, maybe someone would say I’m an awful person, maybe someone will share their own.

I am a big fan of roleplaying. Not just hacking and slashing in my games, but actually turning into another character, adjust my mindset to them, interacting with a new, eerie, fantastical world the DM makes. As I like interacting, I usually create characters that eagerly interact with the world around and people: clerics, or noble knights on their crusade to cleanse the world of evil, or, - more often, - bards. In fact, I think playing a bard is my speciality at this point. And when I roleplay a bard, I do roleplay a bard. Not a warrior with a lute, or a singing barbarian (although it is a way to roleplay a bard, be it, for example, a scald, or an adventuring writer from the College of Valour), but a social, charismatic, sly and cunning artist who can charm and deceive, and isn’t used to fighting. It is safe to say that not a single one of my bards, - and I do not exaggerate here! - had ever drawn a weapon in the campaign. It’s been 11-12 years of D&D for me, and not a single one used a weapon for anything than cutting a rope or cooking a chicken. Last Saturday was the first time my bard character ever killed something by throwing a fireball into an Eye Tyrant, and only because he and a half-dead ranger were the only ones left standing. So, yes, my point being, I roleplay a minstrel - not a fighter with a set of instruments.

This leads me to the thing I am feeling guilty about. Playing a charismatic, strong-willed character means that I go full persuasion on both NPCs… and players. And very soon after it, being deceptive, persuasive, or anything else charming, I turn into a group’s leader. Which makes sense: if a character can do nothing than manipulate, the character will manipulate. All the decision making also falls onto him. It comes to the point when in dangerous situations, being captured by an enemy, or devoured by a frogermoth, fellow players ask for this bard to help, although he cannot fight for the love of his life.

It makes absolute sense to immediately become the group’s leader, and make decisions when others do not looking instead at you when said decision has to be made… and more often than not other players are fine with it, finding their own niches in the game. However, constant leadership and decision making makes me feel bad. Feel as if I am the only one playing, and other character and players are there just for my entertainment, and  hate it. I want them to have fun too. I gladly step back and let them play, but with an established role of ‘a guy who makes all decisions’, the spotlight quickly switches to me, and I feel very uncomfortable, feeling that I get half of the time on myself even when I try to make it lesser, and another half is divided between four other players.

I love my role as a bard or a cleric, or an other social role, being kind of meh towards direct battling and attacking enemies, and preferring the social or tricky side to the game… but in so doing, I feel that I take too much from other players, even if they don’t acknowledge it.

Phan: Nothing I Can See But You When You Dance

Phil doesn’t really know how it happens, because quite frankly this entire night feels too good to be real, but somehow he finds himself sitting in a milkshake shop at 3 a.m. with a complete stranger that loves wearing pastel colours and painting his nails and discusses anime with him passionately.


Phil meets Dan at a club. They dance, get each other off in a restroom, get milkshakes, have sex again and eat pancakes together in exactly that order. 

Genre: Fluff and smut
Wordcount: 3.6k
A/N: I got the idea for this fic a year ago in July when listening to ‘Can’t Stop The Feeling’, and it randomly came back to me every few months ever since. Today’s the day I decided to finally make it come to life, because the characters just kept haunting me. Hope you enjoy. :) x

The club is filled to the maximum with people, sweaty bodies dancing together, hands thrown in the air in ecstasy. Phil watches them, a Pina Colada held tightly in his left hand. The condensing water on the outside of his glass makes his palm wet. This is his third cocktail of the night and he hadn’t really had dinner, so the alcohol starts to affect him, spreading warmth throughout his body. Or maybe he’s just feeling so warm because the air in the club is so stuffy.

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anonymous asked:

I'm the anon that asked for the reiner bert titans scenerio, thankyou for responding and I would like for Bert :)

WARNING: This contains heavy spoilers for the series. If you’re an anime-only watcher, I highly suggest that you skip reading this and even the prompt itself.

Sorry this took me so long! Admittedly, I’m not very good at writing RBA, but I honestly tried my best! I couldn’t really think of an ending, so I kind of cliffhangered it at a good point that leaves it open for a small drabble later down the line if enough people express interest in seeing it. Also, I don’t think I’d be able to write the same scenario for Reiner, so I’d humbly ask that everyone understands. c: I have a really difficult time coming up with new ideas for the same scenario prompt, if that makes any sense. I might be able to do headcanons down the line if enough people want those, too. This is unedited, for now, but I’ll go back later and fix mistakes if I catch them!

Original prompt: 

He knew that joining the military and posing as a soldier would tarnish his ability to get his mission done, but Bertholdt Hoover never anticipated being torn asunder at the decision he and Reiner were about to make.

Miraculously, they had survived the collapse of Utgard Castle without having to reveal their identities. Rather, they had discovered that Ymir was a titan; the titan who had swallowed Marcel without any remorse, devouring him and absorbing his shifter abilities in a blink of an eye. Throughout the entire ordeal, Bertholdt had made the choice to convince Reiner that it was time to return home and take Eren with them. The only thing that remained left in the air was how they were going to convince him and how he was going to break the truth to you.

Nothing else had mattered to him before except for Reiner and Annie’s safety and the success of the Marley’s mission. It was their sworn duty to fight the Eldians that lived in Paradis island and that was supposed to be the end of it.

Life was never that simple—it was the cold, harsh reality of war.

You were everything that he could never be: determined, kind, and so patient and understanding that Bertholdt felt like crying whenever your bright eyes met his own. Your smile was enough to melt his heart and fill him with a torrent of guilt, but even you weren’t enough to stop him from going home.

“Bertl,” Reiner’s gruff voice sliced through his heavy thoughts, his hand descending on his shoulder. They locked eyes and a pregnant pause passed between them until the blond sighed. “Let’s bring them with us.”

Bertholdt nearly choked on his own saliva, yet he managed to simply choke out, “What?”

Eyes fierce and ablaze, Reiner-the-warrior stepped forward for a moment, his bold statement still echoing through Bertholdt’s head. “You don’t want to leave them, so bring them with us. We’ll deal with the consequences when we’re back home.”

Maybe he was blinded by his own feelings—the very ones that he both embraced and cursed—but Bertholdt found himself falling for Reiner’s own delusions. If he could just explain to you what was truly going on, then maybe you’d understand why he had done everything that he had; that it was necessary for humanity. With clenched fists, he nodded and made up his mind, olive-colored hues spotting you from across the top of the wall, where you chatted happily with Connie and Sasha.

He had to make you understand.

Nervously, he called your name and beckoned you closer, a cold sweat beading at his temples. You walked closer and flashed him that smile—the same one that made him weak in the knees and irrevocably guilty—and stopped when the two of you were isolated from the rest of your friends.

He was going to make you understand.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concern dripping from your voice. Bertholdt hated the look you gave him and hated that he felt himself chickening out from the thought of returning home now. It was all your fault that you had this influence over him, but he was the one who was to blame for allowing you to wriggle your way underneath his skin and into his heart.

Swallowing thickly, Bertholdt reached for your hands, ignoring the fact that his own were clammy and his heart was racing so wildly that you could probably feel his pulse from the touch. “Come with me,” he urged, his voice shushed and frantic.

You only laugh at his remark. “Go where, Bertl? We’re stuck on the top of the wall for a while, y'know. I doubt we’ll be able to get back to headquarters for a whil—”

“No.” He faltered for a moment and took a shaky breath, the grip on your hands tightening. His eyes met your own and the jovial mood was dampened as you began to realize just how serious he was being. Bertholdt didn’t give you a chance to question him further before he elaborated, “I want you to come with me—with us—over the wall. Outside of the wall.”

“What are you talking about? We can’t go over the wall, Bertholdt, and you know that. What’s going on with you?”

Bertholdt’s eyes closed for a moment and he rakes over how to tell you what’s happening because you have to understand. Refusing to let you pull your hands away from his own, he quietly revealed, “Reiner and I are going home with Eren and Ymir. I want you to come with me.”

Shaking your head, you desperately tried to comprehend the words that were coming from him. “I don’t know why you want to go back to your village, but you can’t. You’ll die out there. I don’t know what you’re trying to find by going back there, but Ymir didn’t just save us for you to throw your life away.” Your fingers interlock with his own, worry painted across your features as you softly pleaded, “Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t understand where you’re coming from.”

“I’m the one who destroyed Shiganshina. I’m the one who broke the wall in Trost.” The words tumble from his lips so quickly that Bertholdt doesn’t have a chance to rethink them or clarify, so he simply let go of your hands and waited in silent agony for you to say anything.

Wide-eye, you pale as if you had just seen a ghost—as if you had just seen a monster. Vaguely, he heard Eren screaming from across the Wall as Reiner tried to explain himself, his words jumbled and not coherent enough to garner his attention.

“I—I don’t believe you,” you stammered, stepping back on your heel in order to give him a look of sheer disbelief. He can’t defend himself or his actions and he won’t, which prompted you to speak a little louder this time, “You’re lying! If this is a joke, it isn’t funny! You wouldn’t do something like that, Bertholdt.  Please, take it back. ”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bertholdt saw Mikasa drawing her blade, poised and ready to attack at any given moment. “I can’t,” he replied and turned his back on you, fully prepared to go through with his mission.

If you didn’t understand then he was going to have to make you, whether you liked it or not.

Even as Mikasa screamed at you to draw your weapons, all you could do was stand there in shock and disbelief. Right before your very eyes, both Reiner and Bertholdt shifted into the very things that had cursed humanity and placed them in this horrific existence in the first place. Excruciatingly hot steam emanated from the Colossal Titan’s gargantuan form, but the last thing you were able to remember was a large hand shielding you from the blast before your world went dark.

anonymous asked:

if you're still taking requests i'd love to see a space opera, mermaid, explorer/adventurer au!!

Oh my gosh, anon, I found this one the most challenging combination to write so far. I love it! xD I’m not entirely sure I fit in the mermaid piece well enough to count, but I hope it’s still to your liking! 

(Note: Viktor’s look and abilities in this au is inspired by Marvel’s Hela from Thor: Ragnorak.) 

Heaving a sigh, Yuuri nudges a piece of debris with the sole of his boot.

Ship-wrecked in the middle of an unknown planet, with no communication systems, no navigation, no food and water reserves. Nothing that will help them survive. He glances over his shoulder at the group of passengers, huddling together, commiserating their woes.

In all his years as the pilot of the SS Saber, Yuuri has never encountered any problems. It’s a fairly simple job: ferry Very Important Lifeforms (or, VILs for short) from one planet to another, his passengers running the gamut from high-ranking senators and world leaders, to ambassadors and their families, moving to a new posting as part of the five-year rotation scheme. He has never had to deal with these VILs, given that he spends the entire time steering the ship in his cockpit, while the passengers eat and dance and do whatever it is rich folks do when they travel in a first-class intergalactic spaceship.

Until today.

The engines had exploded, the sudden impact throwing them off-course, sending them careening through space and into the nearest planet. It was a rough landing—the ship might have flipped, once or twice—but Yuuri managed to keep his hands steady on the controls, his heart from leaping too far out his throat.

And now, well. Now they’re stuck. On some godforsaken planet with a surface that’s as dry and crusty and lifeless as Mars.

Yuuri exhales again, digs the heel of his palms in his eyes. The cynical part of him suspects sabotage, but the rational part of him… all right, the rational part thinks it’s sabotage, too. Someone must want one or more of these VILs dead. And Yuuri was just unfortunate enough to be caught in the damn crossfire.

“Hey, Mister?” says a tiny voice by his waist.

Yuuri’s breath catches at the sight of a little human boy no older than six, a red streak in his otherwise black hair, his eyes wide and wet and devastatingly cute.

“My mama and papa say we’re going to die.” The boy’s bottom lip quivers. “Are we gonna die?”

“Of course not,” Yuuri says without thought.

The boy gives a watery smile, reaching up to grab a fistful of Yuuri’s shirt. “Can I stay with you for now? ‘cause my mama and papa are scaring me.”

“Oh. I uh, I don’t know…”

The boy’s eyes grow impossibly wide. And irresistible. 

“All right,” Yuuri sighs.

As the boy hugs his waist, Yuuri looks up, eyes scanning the huddled passengers, sizing them up. There’s the boy’s parents, a human couple, their arms wound around each other, shaking and weeping as though the world has ended. Beside them stands an irate-looking Centuarian, half-human, half-horse, an Autobot with his robotic body smoking with worry, a Ka’an, her green skin glittering in the darkness, and finally, a – a…

Yuuri swallows as the last passenger turns to meet his gaze. Black tights cling to a limber frame while his long hair shimmers, soft and silver and distinct.

A Celestial.

The most beautiful and deadliest of races, known to charm their victims into submission before devouring them alive and –

– and oh shit, the Celestial is smiling at him now, pink lips curving sweetly, shooting a bolt of electricity up his spine.

“Um, Mister?”

“Yeah?” Yuuri says, distracted.

Chubby hands tug at his shirt.

“Do you hear singing?”

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