devoid of everything

Studio

Hoseok is stressed about his upcoming mixtape, so you decide to swing by his studio and help him relax.

pairing: hoseok x reader
genre: smut, fluff
wordcount: 5k
inspiration




You hadn’t seen Hoseok in a week.

For the two of you, a week was a long time. You were missing him. You had quickly gotten used to your routine with Hoseok since he had returned from the tour a few months ago. You both worked during the day and you shared your evenings together. It was your nights with Hoseok that you missed.

You had grown accustomed to falling asleep to his soft snores and reaching over to poke him abruptly when his snores were too loud. You had quickly adapted to how you would both wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, suddenly overcome with lust, needing each other right then and there. In fact, those were some of your favourite nights with Hoseok, when at 3am, he had you moaning with your underwear around your knees, and his hands wrapped around your neck and your stomach as he made love to you. 

Of course there were harder nights with Hoseok- nights when he was so exhausted he practically collapsed into bed, saying nothing, just wanting to hold you close to him. Or the nights when you would fight, arguing about small things that didn’t really matter, the two of you falling asleep prickly with irritation. Nevertheless, you appreciated all of your nights with Hoseok, the difficult ones, and of course, the good ones. You knew quality time with Hoseok was rare, so having your nights with him was something you valued. 

So when seven nights passed without Hoseok, seven lonely nights, you were all too acutely aware of just how badly you were missing him.

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Champion Selection - Loki x Reader

Warnings: Romance, angst, fluff, humour.

Word Count: 1500 (give or take a few)

A/n: The movie isn’t out yet but when you see an image like that, how can you possibly ignore writing for Loki?


There you stood - you, the God of Thunder, and your complicated relationship with Loki - before two brightly coloured and painted natives of this planet.

God. How had this all gone so wrong?

You and Thor were only trying to find Odin when Loki popped up, begging for help because he screwed up – again.

Then you three were pursued by an unrelenting woman called Hela who knocked you all off your course on the Bifrost and onto an unknown planet.

But, no. That’s no where your troubles ended.

The trio were very quickly captured and brought to the leader of glamourised fighting pit.

It was hard to tell if the man knew who you all were, but it seemed like that you were in for trouble regardless.

The leader of this fighting ring wore a golden robe with blue and red fabric peeking through in a few places and a blue streak down his lip and chin. He had an assistant standing behind with a golden cane with a yellow ball on top and a white tattoo on his forehead.

They were hushing an intense conversation before the assistant introduced the leader as the Grandmaster.

“I want Thor. He looks strong enough to take on the champion.” The Grandmaster chose as he leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on Thor.

Your muscles tensed when you thought of what was to come next. If these people put Thor through the arena, then you and Loki would be used as prize chips to be bought and sold to whoever had enough credits.

It was clear that your identities were known, and these people didn’t care of the consequences. It also meant that they could pit Thor against someone impossible and use it as an excuse to get rid of him and take control of Asgard.

“I want to fight in the arena.” You blurted out.

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The Characters - Chara

  • Name: Chara
  • Age: 19 years old
  • Pronouns: They/Them
  • Occupation: Fulltime ghost
  • Studies: Unwillingly, the same as Frisk

Hurt and despised by the ones who should’ve loved them, Chara’s hatred towards humanity grew stronger and stronger every day.

At some point, that life became unbearable to them, so they ran away.

Venturing into the forbidden place that was Mt. Ebbott, they only wished that cursed mountain could put an end to their miserable life once and for all.

When they got face to face with that deep hole in the ground, they felt no hesitation. Maybe that darkness could swallow them and make them disappear forever with their pain.

It didn’t.

When Chara opened their eyes, an aura of delicate light surrounded them and a tiny hand was streching out, offering help.

That’s how they met Asriel.

Asriel’s family, the Dreemurrs, took Chara under their protection and, for the first time, they felt like they found their place in the world.

They belonged here, with the monsters, the only creatures who showed them what being loved really meant.

However, Chara soon realized that monsters didn’t choose to live in the Undergroud; that was like a prison for them and humans were once again to blame.

So, when Chara learnt how it was possible to break the barrier and free everyone from their imprisonment, they didn’t think twice about the price they’d need to pay.

They thought about everything so that it’d look like an accident and convinced Asriel to take part in the plan.

Unfortunately, said plan failed.

That day, both kids lost their lives and the entire Undergroud was devoid of hope.

Centuries passed and everything was thought to be over; at least, until Frisk fell on the same carpet of golden flowers that had become Chara’s grave.

Thanks to the power of Frisk’s determination, Chara regained consciousness in a spiritual form. From that moment on, the two fallen humans shared a special connection: Chara was physically linked to Frisk and couldn’t leave their side, living and ageing with them.

Moreover, nobody was able to see them, except Frisk.

That’s how they became partners during their journey through the Underground, facing every obstacle together until they reached the surface.

And even later, they never parted.

There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here - pre-13x03, 2K, G. Cas in the Empty. 

Castiel comes to in a place neither hot nor cold, neither beautiful nor ugly. The sky stretches above his head, constellations sparkling in the sky, but the ground he’s lying on is plain dirt with a few withering sprouts of grass poking up here and there.

Someone grips his shoulders and hoists him up. “You’re here, I see,” he says. Castiel recognizes the voice – because it’s his own.

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maragreene  asked:

Can she see me from your eyes?

Fic I Would Write For This: Theoretical Viktor backstory fic about his home and childhood and what lead him to neglect life and love in favour of skating. Told from the POV of his father. 

When Viktor’s mother dies his father can’t cope, not able to even look at Viktor anymore due to Viktor sharing the exact same eyes as his dead wife. Growing up in a world suddenly devoid of love, Viktor devotes everything to skating, eventually being chosen by Yakov to move to St Petersburg to train and never looking back. Years later his father reflects on his mistake in neglecting his son, watching Viktor’s life through the tv screen and knowing his wife would never forgive him for the choices he made in his grief 

[Asks for this prompt are now closed]

She wants to speak, but I know what she is. She believes love is death—even if everything devoid of love disgusts her. Since her love makes her innocent, why should she speak? Mistress of the Castle, her fingers play upon mirrors of pronouns.

With every word I write I remember the void that makes me write what I couldn’t if I let you in.

I stand by the poem. It takes me to the edge, far from the homes of the living. And when I finally disappear—where will I be?

No one understands. Everything I am waits for you and still I hunt the night of the poem. I think only of your body while I shape and reshape my poem’s body as if it were broken.

And no one understands me. I know that life and love must change. Such statements, coming from the mask over the animal I am, painfully suggest a kinship between words and shadows. And that’s where it comes from, this state of terror that negates humanity.
—  Alejandra Pizarnik
Pieces of You

The bedsheets still smell of you. 

The couch still hollowed from your lounging. 

The soaps in the bath have imprints from your touch. 

The glasses on the counter wear lipstick stains from your sips. 

How am I to live a life devoid of you 

when everything else around still feels alive with pieces of you?

Remember Me Pt. 2

A/N: Get ready Ramblers, it’s here. This one fic, has taken me at least four days, and has drained my emotional stores. But by god do I love it and hope you guys do too. Well, I hope you all enjoy. (After doing this, somebody please send in fluffy headcanons or something for any fandom I’m in. Please.)

Word Count: 3,726

Warnings: Angst (and fluff, don’t worry), light swearing, TGC spoilers

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Feel the Beating of Your Heartache Drum

Thanks @toofunnytohear for the idea! <3

Bellarke Soulmates AU where they feel each other’s pain.
And childhood friends because that’s just how I roll.

Also on AO3



When Bellamy is seven, he feels his soulmate for the first time.

Octavia is too busy crying, his mother isn’t there, and he nearly misses it, how his knee starts stinging out of nowhere, light pain that almost feels like a butterfly kiss.

He doesn’t know it then because soulmates are rare and most people are just happy to find someone they can call their own, with or without the universe’s interference.

But Bellamy reads a lot, so much that the old Miss Sinclair told him that he’s going to read his weight in books, and therefore, he knows things. 

He knows about soulmates and how no science could ever explain them and by the time the second wave of pain comes, he is pressing his lips sealed. Even though there are tears in the corners of his eyes, he is happy.

Yes, indeed, Bellamy Blake is a very, very happy child.

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This is Haxus
Sunny
This is Haxus

“-You’re not anything to me.” He grounds out and hates that it’s meek and shallow, hates that he’s watching Haxus bleed out and is inclined to stop it. He hates that Haxus has done this to him, deliberately. His voice is hollow and devoid of everything it should hold. It’s weak and crushed. He should leave, let the blades handle this finish what they started. Call the others. Do something other than crouch here and stare.

Keith realises then, finally. He realises who he’s looking at now.

Haxus.

This, is Haxus. 

This is the person behind the mask, behind the deception and clever tricks. Smoke and mirrors ebb away. In its wake lies nothing but choleric destruction and malice. Keith can’t help but shiver at the shift of tone. The way Haxus speaks to him, hisses at him. Cold. Detached. It shakes him to the bones, has his jaw clenching hard and teeth grinding together. 

/ @haxuss and I have been planning this FOR LITERALLY MONTHS and now the big betrayal is finally happening after things were going so well in the story :’))) and im just so excited i had to make some music for this moment because the tension, the emotions are running so high!!!! you may recognise this. it’s actually based on Mutual Solitude, which is a theme I wrote for Haxus earlier this year. So Holly, this is for you. I am SO SO happy that we’re doing this HECK YEA and writing with you is a joy always. 

anonymous asked:

She woke to him whispering in her ear. Emma couldn't quite make out the words, but Killian was pressed against her, his hipbone rubbing against her ass. Much to her delight, they were both naked. She made to turn as to give her hands access to his skin when he pulled her fully against him and pinned her wrists to her stomach with his own. Her protest was swallowed by a groan as his lips tugged on her lobe before abandoning it to suck their way down her neck. 1/5

His leg hair tickled her thighs slightly, feet tracing her calves before he slid his knee between her legs. Emma could hardly keep track of his touch; his hand caressing down her spine, his wrist still holding her hands in place, his leg rutting through her folds. Killian chuckled at her incoherent ramblings, nuzzling the nape of her neck affectionately. He brought his hand around to her front, teasing her collarbone with light touches and she arched her back to try and urge him further down. 2/

She whined as he danced past her aching breasts and waiting nipples to play with her hipbone, inching his leg back out. One last thrust with his hips left her with no doubt as to what state his torture left them in. She could feel her core clutch at the weight of his cock along her backside. He finally lifted his arm from hers and she moaned from the loss of his presence surrounding her. She turned quickly, ready to slide him right where he belonged only for his fingers on her jaw to pause her.3

Killian kissed her gently, barely more than a brush of his lips against hers, his tongue tracing her mouth before pulling away. “Come home, darling. Come home.” Killian’s blue eyes captured hers, his love shining through and embracing her as surely as his limbs had. Wait, come home? 4/5

Emma started, breaking branches beneath her as she shot up. The forest was quiet in the early morning, and devoid of dashing pirates. Fuck everything, she was getting back to Storybrooke today and locking her pirate in their house and never leaving ever again. 5/5 💫

Originally posted by moviesandquotes

Bless you smut fairy and your teasing!!!

Into the Storm

Rivetra Week Day 03 | Storm

Runawayverse: When a big storm destroys a part of the tea shop, Petra makes an attempt to retrieve it, much to the dismay of her employer.


As the wind howled outside, Petra replaced the lid of a glass jar, placing it back on the shelf, now full. She placed the large cork on the ceramic jar she had been scooping from and pushed it aside, scooping some stray tea leaves into her hand and depositing them into a much smaller cup of assorted leaves.

Waste not.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Levi observing the street outside, completely bare save the newspapers and trinkets blowing about, bouncing across the cobblestone taken by the gusts. He let a small breath of air out his nose then reach forward, turning the wooden sign from “open” to “closed.”

Petra straightened.

“Closed, Mr. Ackerman?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, “closed. No one in their right mind would be coming out today. Might as well.”

The red haired young woman pulled the ceramic jar to her, preparing to return it to the store room. Though she’d only been in his employ four months, he’d never so much as opened any less than three minutes early. To close down entirely?

“Certainly there will be a wary traveler or two,” she protested gently.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but they’d be idiots and I don’t serve idiots.”

Petra smiled to herself at this, poking her head into the store room and putting the bulk tea back. Levi referred to Lady Dawk as an idiot and she was his best client. Petra might even go so far as to argue he was sweet on the married blonde, or had been at one point.

He was a very difficult man to read.

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sir-argues-a-lot  asked:

So does Ready Flayer One ever explain why this future VR game has all these references to 80's shit? Because I'm pretty sure most of that stuff would still be under copyright/trademarks in 2044. Nor would any self-respecting company be so devoid of original thought that everything in it is just straight up stolen from 80's works.

Because the faggot who made the the stupid VR game, in which you lose your avatar and all your progress with it if you die even once I guess, was a huge 80′s fan and his an easter egg underneath a mountain of worthless references. The winner of the egg hunt would get like a trillion dollars and own the stupid game which sounds completely retarded and a guaranteed way to let your life’s work be owned by some mouth-breather.

And that’s exactly how the book ends, only he’s insufferable and pretentious, too. Also, he got an extra life after playing a perfect game of Pac-man DESPITE THE FACT THAT IT’S AN MMO

just going to class feels like too much effort im avoiding the people in my life i dont want any kind of interaction i feel devoid of everything  and there is this burning feeling of failure,insufficiency, anger and hurt that is burning inside of me. I feel like a burden.