enemiesbrotherslovers  asked:

Genosai - "stop"

Prompt: “Stop” - one character calming the other down

“I’ll kill him,” Genos says, in a voice so serious and so dark that it actually sends a chill up the base of Saitama’s skull.

“Whoa, what?” That wasn’t exactly the reaction Saitama expected when he’d handed Genos a piece of his fanmail, laughing, ‘Look at this jerk.’

But Genos isn’t laughing. His vents are glowing like coals as his core heats up, and although Genos rarely ever smiles, he doesn’t usually look so terrifying

“I’ll find out who sent this and I will kill them,” Genos says, his voice dripping with promise.

“Genos, get real, you can’t kill somebody!”

“Fine, I’ll leave him breathing!” Genos seethes, steam hissing out of his joints. Waves of heat pour off of him, making the air around him ripple.

“Genos, no,” Saitama reaches out to take the letter away from his disciple. There is no return address, of course, but for all Saitama knows there might be some other clue, fingerprints or something, that can actually lead Genos to the sender, and although the letter is actually pretty nasty, he didn’t realize Genos would get this upset about it. But before he can grab it, Genos incinerates the letter in his hand, transforming it into flame and ash in an instant.

It’s a shock at first, but then Saitama realizes, the letter is gone. Problem solved.

“Whew,” Saitama lets out a breath of relief. “At least that’s over with. Let’s just forget about it.”

Burning the letter didn’t seem to actually vent any of Genos’ strong emotions. The air around him is still shimmering with heat, betraying his inner turmoil. “Sensei, that letter was horrible.”

Saitama frowns at him, not understanding why Genos still hasn’t let it go. Sure, he knows his disciple is quicker to anger, but this is something else. There’s an oily sheen around Genos’s eyes, like tears, and he just doesn’t understand anymore. “Genos, it’s just a stupid letter. Why does it bother you so much?”

“Why doesn’t it bother you?!” Genos explodes at him, actual anger that Saitama hasn’t seen in a long time, since Genos thought that Saitama was giving him a bullshit answer about how he got his strength. “You’ve done so much to protect everyone! You’ve saved their lives over and over again and these people are so ungrateful they don’t even deserve it! Don’t you even care that people hate you? Don’t you even care that nobody knows how incredible you are?”

Saitama stares at Genos, amazed, as the oily liquid makes tracks down his disciple’s face. Definitely tears. He can’t remember the last time he actually cried.

“No, I don’t care,” Saitama says. “Not anymore.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Genos wipes the oil from his face bitterly. “You joined the Hero Association to get recognition, and to get fans. You deserve them all. You should be the top hero. You’re better than everyone else. You don’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, I thought I wanted fans,” Saitama says. “And recognition would be nice. But that stuff doesn’t matter anymore. I got something better.”

Genos scoffs lightly, still angry, still bitter. He knows all too well how empty Saitama’s life is. 

“What the hell do you think you have that’s so special?”

“…I have you.”

anonymous asked:

How about a prompt about what happens directly after the last scene of MOBY

Claire somehow reached Brianna first and was lifted off the ground in the excitement of reunion.

“We’re home!”

“Grandda!” Jem exclaimed, leaping into Jamie’s arms as the older man laughed.

“Ye’ve grown a foot at least, a chuisle,” Jamie told him, setting him back on the ground and putting a hand on the boy’s head to measure.

Roger held Mandy close as Claire released Brianna and shifted to hug Roger.

“Hello Mandy,” she addressed the young girl. “You probably don’t remember me.”

The curly head shook, ‘no.’ “But I ken who ye are,” Mandy assured her with a tentative smile.

You Asked For It: Tuesday Drabbles

I was going to wait to post these until I had more of a backlog, but @edeainfj made puppy eyes at me.

Chapter 415: “Her kisses left something to be desired… the rest of her.” (Phryne/Jack) Requested by @omgimsarahtoo.

Chapter 416: “I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I’m going to marry her.” (Jack/Rosie) Requested by @firesign23. A follow-up to Chapter 414: Devoted.

anonymous asked:

pirate au for mckirk where jim is a loyal crew member onboard capt pike's ship. one night, he overhears the other crew members planning to overthrow pike and take over the ship. jim hurriedly goes to tell pike but is caught. they tie him up, keep him quiet and leave him stranded on an island (instead of killing him). cue the enterprise ship and dr mccoy to the rescue!

I need to get my writing mojo going and kill some time! Send me a ship or a character, and a word (or an au) and I’ll write a 500-1000 word drabble for it.

Oh man! I’ve been looking forward to filling this one! I may…have to revisit the idea for a long fic. Cause let me tell you, I have all the pirate-y things in my head right now! 

Why he ever thought it would be a good idea to go on a sea voyage he can’t quite remember. There’d been a lot of talk about God and shepherding His children and temptations at sea and all the souls to be saved in various ports- There’d also been the minor fact that he couldn’t stand one more second with Joscelyn and months at sea had, at the time, seemed like the perfect escape.

He should have known better.

The sea does not agree with him, and despite the reassurances of the crew, it hasn’t gotten better with time. McCoy leans against the bulwark rail, and stares at the horizon in an attempt to keep his morning gruel on the inside today. For once, it seems to be working, but McCoy doesn’t have much time to revel in that fact.

There’s a wisp on the horizon, a wisp that continues to grow more pronounced, spiraling and climbing in large plumes. “Smoke,” he observed softly to himself, and then he realizes what that must mean.

“Captain!” McCoy pushes himself off the rail, and makes his way as quickly as he’s able to the captain’s cabin. “Captain Spock, there’s smoke on the horizon.”

The man lifts his head from the charts he’s studying and levels a look at McCoy, raising one elegant eyebrow in such the way that McCoy has come to recognize as his: ‘And why should this concern me’ look. “Now either I’m sorely misinformed, but that usually means someone’s calling for help right?” he presses on, ignoring the irritation that’s fairly oozing off the captain, though he shows no outward sign of it.

“On occasion it does. But we are on a mission, Father McCoy, and that requires us not to deviate from our path. I am quite certain that another ship will be along to collect whatever misfit has found himself marooned out here.”

McCoy bristles, leaning on the table, purposefully obscuring the charts. “Now see here, you have no idea when another ship will come to these parts, nor the amount of supplies that poor soul has. We have to change course. It won’t take us much out of our way.”

“It is none of my concern, Father. If you would excuse me, I have our actual course to plot.”

“By God, man! It’s our duty as Christians to help those in need! And as the church representative on this ship, I’m telling you that God wants us to change course and rescue whoever’s stranded and calling for aid.”

Spock gives him a hard look, but McCoy doesn’t back down. If he’s going to be stuck in the middle of the ocean, then he’s going to do his best to actually do some good work – sailors have absolutely no interest in preserving their immortal souls in the middle of the ocean.

“Very well, have it your way,” Spock sighs and indicates that McCoy precede him out of the cabin. “Let us go determine our new heading.”

~ * ~

“Sun stroke,” McCoy mutters under his breath. “Dehydration. No sunburn though, you’re lucky.” His eyes run over the darkly tanned form in front of him, probably the reason why he didn’t get burned by the sun’s rays. It’s impossible not to notice how…attractive the man is. Blond hair, baby blue eyes, and a grin that hasn’t left his cracked lips once since they had found him.

Heat travels up Leonard’s neck as he realizes the direction his thoughts are travelling.

“Well, Father, you’ll have to let me give you a once over once you’re done checking me out.” Jim, for that’s his name, grins, and shoots McCoy a look that he purposefully misinterprets.

“You will need to drink a lot of water…Jim.” He fumbles over the given name, because the man was being purposefully contrary and refused to tell them what his last name was, or what he had been doing marooned on an island.

“Unfortunately, I think that will only satisfy one of my thirsts,” he purrs. Leonard recognizes that look, and he’d have to be blind not to realize the sailors traded such looks around him on a daily basis. But he’d never been on the receiving end of one before, he finds his throat going dry at the thoughts it rouses in him.

Dear Lord, he’s a clergyman! Not a…well, he’s not one to judge, but he’s never been interested in men before!

“Can I see the captain now?” Jim continues on, as if he hadn’t just given Leonard a momentary crisis of faith.

“I don’t think that would be a wise idea. He’s not too pleased with having a pirate on board.”

“Okay, well, I’m not a pirate. So there’s really no problem,” Jim shoots back with that easy grin.

McCoy shakes his head. “Well you can try to convince him of that yourself. But not until I’m convinced that you won’t keel right over again as soon as you stand.”

Laughing, Jim leans forward, locking his eyes with Leonard’s as he does so. “And what shall we do until then, Father. Shall I confess my sins to you?”

McCoy doesn’t even bother to try to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “I can well imagine your sins, Jim.”

“Imagine? Why, Father, I’d be happy to show them to you. In great detail.”

anonymous asked:

Jihoon and 39

Wow this is really saucy. Drabbles are CLOSED, but Requests are OPEN.

Member: Woozi 

Prompt: “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Woozi whispered as he continued kissing down your neck. You stopped to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Then we won’t.” You said moving just about in an inch backwards until he pulled you forwards again. “Actually, I don’t care.” He said attaching his lips back into yours.

You felt the adrenaline course through your blood as you wrapped your hands around Woozi’s neck. You felt as if you were in heaven, but you still felt guilty for what you were doing.

You knew you were hurting DK, but he never showered you in the amount of affection Woozi did. Stumbling backwards in each other’s arms you heard the doorknob of the closet jingle. You and Woozi immediately pushed each other off, trying to fix your current appearances back to normal.

The person outside waited a bit before whispering, “I think its empty.” which was followed by the laugh of a clearly amused girl. Your eyes widened at the sound of the first person. Before you could comprehend anything, the door flung open.

You stood there shocked because there he was, DK with another girl in his arms.

Thanks for requesting!

Admin H x

ladykarmastrikeblog  asked:

Congrats GenoSai

Prompt: “Congrats” - first anniversary

Saitama woke up to a pair of black and gold synthetic eyes staring at him.

Even after the 100th time, it was still a little creepy.

“Mmm,” Saitama stretched himself out lazily while Genos stared. “Good morning Genos.”

Genos blinked at him, like a cat.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Of course,” Saitama smiled. “Today the outdated bread at the supermarket is half-off.”


Genos smacked Saitama in the face with a pillow.

“What the hell?” Saitama spluttered, grabbing the pillow and preparing to strike back, but Genos was already up and across the room, sulking. Apparently it wasn’t a surprise pillow fight after all. “What was that for?”

Genos made an outraged noise. “You don’t even know!”

“No, I really don’t,” Saitama agreed, utterly confused. “Can I buy a vowel?”

“You forgot our anniversary!”

Saitama narrowed his eyes.

“Uh… bullshit.”


The pillow hit Genos so hard, he almost fell over.

“We only started dating 5 months ago!”

“Today is the anniversary of when we first met!”

“What, the mosquitoes?” 

Genos glowered at him.


Saitama huffed and threw the pillow aside. “Who the hell celebrates anniversaries for the first time they ever laid eyes on each other?”

“People who care,” Genos sniffed.

…That was a fake sniff. It was fucking fake! 

Saitama groaned inwardly, knowing that he was so boned.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t forget, okay, I just didn’t know that we were counting that.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like it’s important,” Genos said, turning away from him, arms folded.

"Hmmph.” Saitama got up, and grabbed his clothes.  "Put your shoes on, we’re going out.“

"To breakfast?”

“And lunch, and dinner,” Saitama said, already feeling his wallet ache.

“I love you!” Genos beamed, bounding over to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Saitama grumbled, but he couldn’t stay annoyed when Genos smiled at him like that, or when he started pressing kisses all over his neck. “I love you too, brat.”


A week later, Saitama woke up to a pair of black and gold synthetic eyes staring at him again.

“Happy anniversary, Sensei.”

“Haha, very funny Genos,” Saitama mumbled, pulling his pillow over his head.

“Do you remember? Today is the anniversary of when you agreed to make me your disciple.”

“Are you fucking for real right now?”

Genos put on a hurt look. “I see. So you don’t care that-”


Fandom:    DRRR!!
Pairing:      Izuo
Rating:       Post-booty cuddling
Gift:            A belated birthday present for @nozoya!
Summary:  Spot the plot!

The way Izaya’s thumb moved against the lighter was a little amateurish, but it ignited all the same. It’s awkward to light something so cheap, he reasoned as he moved it toward the cigarette that dangled from between Shizuo’s lips, and the angle was all off, anyway.

Shizuo eyed Izaya closely but maneuvered the cigarette regardless, taking a deep breath in as the tip began to glow red. Izaya kept the lighter there for a moment longer than necessary, then extinguished it with a flick of his wrist. He tossed it carelessly to the floor but didn’t bother to watch where it landed. If Shizuo can’t find it, he’ll smoke less, and that’s hardly a bad thing.

“Too skinny.” Shizuo pulled the cigarette out from between his lips and tried to readjust himself on the bed, pushing his head into Izaya’s chest playfully as he did. “You’re gonna fuck my neck up.”

Feigning offense, Izaya scoffed as he circled an arm around Shizuo’s waist. His fingers brushed against the soft skin there, almost tickling Shizuo with how light they were against him. He tilted his head down, resting his lips against the mop of hair lying against his chest.

“Maybe if Shizu-chan left something for me to eat…” The head on his chest moved in a way Izaya could only describe as childish. “Maybe I’d be a better pillow.”

The head shifted again, followed by the body, and Shizuo awkwardly rolled onto his back so that his head could rest in Izaya’s lap. The sheets pulled around them uncomfortably, but neither seemed to pay it much mind.

“I don’t eat everything, you don’t have anything good.” Shizuo brought the cigarette to his lips and took a quick drag, then puffed it out toward Izaya, smiling smugly at the way the informant wrinkled his nose. “You only have weird stuff.”

Having ignored Shizuo’s ridiculous comment, Izaya ran his fingers through the bleached mop gently, occasionally allowing his nails scratch against the scalp beneath. The action was simple, but had Shizuo almost purring, and his eyes slipping to half-mast.

“It’s better if you don’t eat vegetables. You don’t need to grow any stronger than you are.” Izaya’s free hand moved to rest against Shizuo’s naked hip, but whether he meant for it to stop atop the finger marks he’d left there earlier is debatable. “Maybe if I eat what Shizuo eats as well, I’ll become a monster.”

Shizuo puffed another drag of cigarette smoke up at Izaya, his cheeks tinged pink at the use of his first name. His eyes slipped closed as Izaya leaned down toward him, smiling despite himself as dark hair brushed against his forehead.

The kiss he’d expected didn’t come, and he groaned as Izaya’s fingers plucked the cigarette away from him. When he opened his eyes again, Izaya is leaned toward the bedside table, obviously crushing the cigarette in the ashtray.

“You smoke too much.” Izaya explained bitterly, then shifted himself back into place. “It tastes disgusting.”

“Tch. Like you can talk about being disgusting.”

Despite his slight annoyance, Shizuo closed his eyes as Izaya started to play with his hair once again. His breathing slowed, becoming steadier and more relaxed, and he smiled shyly when something soft pressed against his forehead.

As he fell asleep, he wondered if the Izaya he’d inevitably dream of would make him feel even half as happy as the real one did.

anonymous asked:

"Sometimes, there is nothing better than some good old-fashioned, no string attached fucking" with Fitzsimmons??

Shamelessly tying this into my Surprise series (here and here), for which a prequel was requested anyway… though it ends up not being no strings attached sooooo if you want a different version feel free to request again :) :) Unsure how long this’ll get! NSFW, but not quite as NSFW as it could’ve been??

“Introduce us,” Jemma pleaded.

“Introduce yourself!”

“Trip, pleeeeeease. It’s my last chance!”

“Jemma,” Trip chuckled, “you’ve been crushing on Fitz since he got a higher Botany score than you in our first year. You could’ve introduced yourself a dozen times every day – when you followed him to class, when you spied on him at the newspaper, when you–”

“Not so loud,” Jemma hissed, shoving a hand over her friend’s mouth and glancing around the crowded party to see if anyone had overheard.

“I’m not helping you,” he finished firmly.

“You’re supposed to be my wingman!”

“For setting you up with strangers, yeah. You’re asking me to hook you up with my friend, when you very well know who he is and he very well knows who you are. You just want to be able to say you banged the salutatorian.”

“It has a nice symmetry to it, alright?” Jemma grumbled. “I’ve been top of everything else at this school, why shouldn’t I be on top of him?”

“Oh, hell no,” Trip groaned and pretended to vomit into the punch bowl. “That’s just foul, Jemma. My poor ears.”

Keep reading

The In-Between

What happens in my head with twenty minutes and a mad idea…. —————–

A Stranger Things/X-Files Drabble

She has never known stillness like the lake. It’s a glassy pure kind of silence, like the second after a bell stops ringing before everything remembers how to start up again. She can’t remember the last time she stopped like this, the last time she was completely untethered from schedules and deadlines and expectations. Right from conception there’s a due date, charts to be measured against and appointments to be kept. Maybe the heady meeting of two cells is the last moment of truly reckless freedom a human can experience. Unless they end up here. 

Scully does not know where here is. It looks like a boat, drifting impossibly still on a misty mirror. She’s pretty sure it’s not actually a boat, some annoying voice from her past noting the lack of waves against the edge, the lack of ebb and flow and wave and all the things that make water watery. She ignores the voice though. On the lake water doesn’t need to behave how it’s expected to, waves don’t have to crest and fall and Dana Katherine Scully does not have to be Dana Katherine Scully. She’s just a body, on a boat and it is all so very quiet.

There’s a rope at the end of the boat tethered to something she cannot see. She wonders idly what would happen if she untied the knot, cast herself loose in the halycon lake and just let it all go. But sometimes there are flashes of somebody holding the other end of that rope, people she loved before this place with red eyes and wild hair and noses that are too big for their faces. So she leaves the rope where it is and sits utterly, decadently still.

It’s the same for the noises behind her, the grumbling echo of Ahab calling for a shipmate when she lets her mind wander into the maybes of what she cannot see. But she doesn’t want to turn around, she doesn’t want to move or be anything more than still and quiet and safe.

She marvels at how afraid she has always been of stopping, as if death or age or some other faceless evil would catch her if she allowed herself to breathe. There was a glory in the headlong rush of her life, in leaping into the unknown and constantly, endlessly searching for the next, the better and the best.

But not on the lake. The lake has no seasons and no time. She could sit here forever. Maybe she will, until  she and the boat rots into the hushed shine of the water and melt into atoms. That’s her current plan anyway.

Until the day the sky falls.

Darkness plunges into the water with an unholy scream, ruffling her oasis with blood and anger before drowning and turning the water black. The silence afterwards is somehow less complete, less comforting and then there’s a girl in the water, floating face up in a short pink dress, eyes shut and nose bloody. Something comes back to Scully then, some hippocratic need and before she consciously decides to move the girl is in the boat and the big black coat that she must have been wearing all this time is a shroud for the small body.

Scully tries to go back to sitting but the stillness is full of questions. This was her place, her placid purgatory and now there is a girl with a buzzcut who is breathing only very slightly to worry about. 

Somewhere a clock starts ticking again and the water of the lake begins to tug at the boat, nudging it ever so softly in the direction of the rope. The mist off the lake for the first time feels cold and under the coat the girl shivers her eyes open and watches Scully with something between fear and numbness.

Scully watches back, words still feel too heavy to be spoken aloud but she begins to remember their weight, to comprehend their necessity and wonder about the number “Eleven” tattooed on the child’s arm.

She feels a flash of anger at that. Heat! She had forgotten heat This time it is for anger, for the kind of person who would scar an innocent but Scully recalls other warmths, brief caresses rooted in friendship but promising so much more. There are no promises on the lake, only quiet and with these memories comes desire, another heat, a burning need to finish things started and speak ideas she hadn’t even been conscious of forming. 

She speaks now. A question for the child who is sitting, small and pale in the folds of the jacket. Just one word - to test it all out.

“Eleven?” she whispers, surprised at the clarity of her voice, she had been expecting a husk but the sound carries across the water and the echo sends birds up from trees she hadn’t even noticed were gathered on the banks.

Eleven nods, touching her chest in recognition. Then she touches her face, find the blood gone, washed into the lake with the darkness and Scully’s doubts that breaking the silence was thie right thing to do.

“Where are we” she asks, and for the first time Scully looks around, looks at the taut rope that points the way home and the wall of mist behind that will take them into oblivion.

She smiles. Another small warmth that is reflected back on the child’s lips, reminding them both that they are somehow the same, they are human, they are alive. Scully steps into the bow and unties the rope, gathering the end into her lap and beginning to coil it in, to drag them back to the hurt and the heart of reality and out of this strange liminal place.

“I don’t know”, she answers, the lake is not yet a place for false confidence or half-truths. “I think it’s somewhere in-between”.

Eleven nods and turns her face to the growing light.

Fandom:    DRRR!!
Pairing:      Tem Green/Tsukumoya Shinichi
Rating:       Tem, why do you bother
Gift:             for @vispurral
Summary:   They’re just flowers

As he rolled the stem between his fingertips, Tsukumoya couldn’t quite decide how he felt about the wildflowers being brought into his home. He wasn’t particularly educated on the names or meanings of flowers, but even he knew of this one.

The irony of Tem, a foreigner, bringing a foreign flower into his home had made him laugh at first. She’d only swiped at the back of his head before spitting out a half dozen justifications, then dumped the handful of flowers on his head.

As he inspected the flower in his fingers, he wondered which meaning could suit Tem best. Was it that Anemone’s were supposedly able to protect against things such as curses and evil? Given how protective she could be over him, whether she wanted to be or not, he thought that could be it.

Or was it that they symbolised bad luck? It could be argued that Tem brought poor luck to his doorstep. Since she’d started to visit him, all manner of awful things had happened… Though those things had almost exclusively happened to Tem.

Nothing she’d brought upon Tsukumoya was anything he’d class as terrible.

Then could it be forsaken love? Ah-

The flower fell to his lap as the words bounced around his mind, and a soft blush lit his cheeks. He shot a glance at her to see if she’d managed to hear his thoughts, but she was busying herself with her phone on the couch. He swallowed and picked another flower up, this one a light blue, and smiled to himself.

It could never be forsaken, so that mustn’t be it either.

He spun the stem between his fingers, watching as the petals shook, and wondered which meaning seemed most appropriate. There were many, yet none seemed to fit, and they contradicted each other.

Ah, then maybe it was something else. Yes… That was it. That was the connection.

It was their effortless beauty. Their strength, despite being played with. The flowers looked so fragile, yet didn’t break despite his rough treatment of them. In fact, he was certain that if he were to try and plant them, they’d survive even the strangest of conditions.



Tsukumoya looked toward the couch and wondered if he’d actually said anything out loud. Tem’s eyes were glued to her phone in a very obvious effort to ignore him, but he didn’t miss the slight curl of her lips.

“I know I am.” She declared, as though it were the cleverest thing in the world to say.

“I kn-know.” He replied, his voice a little more honest than he’d like it to be. “Y-You are.”

He closed his eyes out of instinct when her phone came hurtling at his face, but didn’t miss the look on her face. For someone so confident, she really didn’t take compliments all that well.

When the phone hit the side of his head, he fell from his chair and onto the floor. He landed on the small bed of wildflowers Tem had dumped on him earlier, and smiled to himself. He might need to tell her that more often.

anonymous asked:

Mckirk, Stockholm Syndrome. 😳 Notorious Bones has to kidnap Starfleet golden boy Jim so Khan can give him the cure for Joanna McCoy's condition.

I need to get my writing mojo going and kill some time! Send me a ship or a character, and a word (or an au) and I’ll write a 500-1000 word drabble for it.

I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I tried! And that’s what counts. So, enjoy some more angst (though I’m afraid there’s only hints of McKirk, apologies, Nonnie)

Most especially must I tread with care in matter of life and death.

How had it come to this?

Hadn’t he suffered enough? He’s already had to watch one of his loved ones die, slowly and painfully of a disease Leonard had been helpless in front of. He had ended it then, had released his father from his suffering, preserved his dignity; he was still paying the price for that act. He’s made the choice once, and it still crushes him. He can’t possibly make it again, not when it concerns his little girl.

A child, so full of life and promise, and yet he’s once again reduced to something less than useless. All he can do is hold her hand in his own trembling hands and watch her slowly fade away in front of his eyes.

He’s a doctor, he should be able to do something! But…he can’t save her. He doesn’t know how.

If it is given me to save a life, all thanks.

That’s how it had come to this. A stranger coming to him in his grief, and softly stating the four words Leonard had never though he’d hear.

I can save her.

Save her.


Leonard is a desperate man, and he knows damn well that everyone in the hospital knows that. He’ll do anything, anything at all to see his little girl smile at him again, to watch her run and play and call out to him. He’s supposed to be a genius, he should be able to figure this out, but he hasn’t been able to find it, no longer how hard he looked.

But someone else has. The price is high but…

There’s really no choice. The life of a stranger for the life of his daughter? No contest at all.

But it may also be within my power to take a life.

James Tiberius Kirk is Starfleet’s golden boy, the man who, they say, will be the greatest captain in Starfleet’s history. He’s also the price for Joanna’s life.

Leonard’s hands sweat and shake. He adjusts his grip on the hypo for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s for Joanna. He’s doing this for his little girl. Besides, it’s not like he’s actually ending Kirk’s life. It’s just a kidnapping. He’s supposed to subdue Kirk, not kill him, Khan wants him alive. So really, he’s not taking a life, he’s not trading one life for another. Kirk has a well-known reputation, so he’s sure the kid will be fine.

Joanna’s life depends on this, on whether or not Leonard can actually go through with this.

It’s not that difficult to lure Jim away from the crowd. He lets Jim kiss him, and finds himself pressed against a wall. It’s all for the best. Leonard kisses Jim back, closing his eyes so he doesn’t risk getting captivated by the earnest light in the kid’s eyes.

He wraps one arm loosely around Jim’s shoulder, the other goes around his waist so he can pass the hypo up so Jim doesn’t see. The kiss breaks, and Leonard opens his eyes, panting softly. He meets Jim’s eyes, and licks his lips. “Sorry about this,” he whispers. He injects Jim with the hypo, and catches him as he almost immediately starts to slump in his arms.

I must face this with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty.

He can’t stop pacing. Can’t stop moving, keeping one eye on the slumped form of James Tiberius Kirk currently laid out on his couch.

Leonard can’t believe he’s actually done this. He’d actually kidnapped-

“Oh fuck me,” he mumbles under his breath, his hands nervously carding through his hair.

There’s a groan from the couch. “Usually that’s my line,” comes the fuzzy response. “And usually I’m naked when I wake up with a head this fuzzy. Who’re you?”

Leonard turns to find Jim staring at him, his baby blues still slightly foggy from the strength of the hypo. Automatically, he reaches for the other hypo he’d loaded, ready for just this scenario. Khan hadn’t told him what he’s supposed to be doing with Jim yet, and the less screaming and general fuss that’s created the better really. But he’s still a doctor, he can’t just keep sedating someone without making sure that there’s no adverse effects; after all, he’s not trying to kill Jim.

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” Leonard responds softly, glancing away quickly. He picks up the hypo and crosses over to the couch, kneeling in front of Jim.

“What’re- what’s that?”

Well, he’s not Starfleet’s brightest because he’s slow.

“A mild sedative. I…I am sorry about this, kid, but it’s a matter of life and death. Just relax, it’ll all be over soon.”

“Woah! Woah! Wait a minute there!” Somehow, Jim manages to stand despite the left over sedative that still has to be coursing through him. “I don’t care what the problem is, man. Hypos are never the answer.”

Leonard frowns, and pushes himself to his feet, just waiting to catch Jim the moment his body catches on that even adrenalin shouldn’t have him standing right now. “Look, I’m sorry,” he finds himself repeating. “But I’ve got to- You don’t understand.”

Jim’s eyes are transfixed by the hypo Leonard’s holding. “No, I don’t. I really don’t, but come on, you seem like a decent guy, I really don’t think you want to be shooting me up with anything. Come on. Just let me go, and I’ll forget this happened. Promise! Cross my heart.”

Leonard shakes his head. “I can’t do that. My little girl’s life depends on it.”

Something flashes in Jim’s eyes, and he holds his hands up, as if to reassure Leonard that he’s not armed – which he’s well aware of. But he can’t wait for him to speak, can’t risk getting too involved with a man he’s going to have to hand over to some twisted individual who’s willing to withhold something that can save a little girl’s life.

He moves forward and presses the hypo against Jim’s neck again. This time he watches, watches the understanding in Jim’s eyes, the sadness, and…the forgiveness.

Leonard sinks to the floor, Jim’s insensate body in his arms. His shoulders shake, and he closes his eyes against the tears that are threatening. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Above all, I must not play at God.

You’re beautiful (Poe Dameron X Reader)

Originally posted by sweethoneybee1995

Request: Thank you so much! You’re and absolute angel! These can either be headcannons or drabbles, I don’t mind. ’“Undress” and I’ll write about one character watching the other get naked’ (nothing sexy, more like admiration) with Poe DAMNeron. ’“Sleep” and I’ll write about one character watching the other sleep’ with Kylo ☺️ and last but no least, ’“Kiss” and I’ll write about their first kiss’ with Steve Rogers please? Thank you so so so much xxxx

This prompt is from this list: Send me a character and a prompt

A/N: Friendly reminder that requests are closed. Thank you to the anon who sent the request, hope you like it xx

Poe looked at her, watching every step that she was taking. He was always amazed by how beautiful she was. Her hair, her skin, her body, her lips… Her.

Lying on bed, he smiled when she took off her shirt, revealing her amazing and delicate boobs. Then, while she was talking about something that Poe wasn’t even listening, (Y/N) took off her shorts. She was getting ready to take a shower after a long and boring day, and even though she was looking really tired, for Poe, she was looking perfect. As always, of course.

“You’re so beautiful”, he said, smirking. “You’re so beautiful and I can’t believe that you’re mine.”

(Y/N) blushed, standing at the door frame of the bathroom, crossing her arms.

“Well… thank you, I guess”, she laughed. “If all you wanted was to make me blush, congrats!”

Poe laughed as well, sitting on bed. He took a moment to let his eyes enjoy the view, analizing every single detail of (Y/N)’s body. It was breathtaking for him, even with all of her flaws.

“Will you just look at me or will you join me in the shower?”, (Y/N) said, winking at Poe and walking into the bathroom.


  1. “It’s okay, you don’t have to love me.”
  2. “just ask him/her out already”
  3. “i can’t fall in love with you, i won’t!”
  4. “did i say that out loud?”
  5. “Remind me never to let you talk me into anything ever again.”
  6. “Is that my shirt?”
  7. “Why do you keep taking my skittles?”
  8. “I think you have my drink.”
  9. “What do you want? It’s 4:00 a.m”
  10. “Will you sing for me?”
  11. “Can I stay here tonight?”
  12. “Don’t be silly.”
  13. “I love you, but in a platonic way of course.”
  14. “I have an idea!”
  15. “I’ve got something to tell you, but I don’t know how to say it.”
  16. “Knock next time?”
  17. “Did you really just throw popcorn at me? Oh, it is on!”
  18. “Here have some of mine.”
  19. “Have you ever wanted to get a pet?”
  20. “You have a cute laugh.” 

I decided since I will no longer be taking requests on this blog I will do drabbles instead! 

These are the groups I will do them for: Monsta x, Nct U, Nct 127, and Bts

Please only do one drabble prompt per member! 

Fandom:    DRRR!!
Pairing:      Tsukumoya Shinichi/Orihara Izaya
Rating:       He likes to watch. He likes to be watched.
Gift:            For @clandestineking, because this ship is your fault )8<
Summary:  If only Shizuo hadn’t missed, we’d all be spared this trainwreck of a ship.

It was rare that Izaya would provoke Shizuo in front of so many cameras, and even rarer still that he wouldn’t move away from them once the fight kicked off. He seemed strange today, though, moving more erratically than usual as if he were threatening to fight Shizuo one-on-one.

Instead of sprinting through the streets as he usually did, he only moved his body enough to dodge the wide sweep of the STOP sign Shizuo was wielding. His back arched beautifully before it fell backward, threatening to topple him over- but the deceptive strength in his legs kept that from happening.

Though Tsukumoya couldn’t hear it, he knew that Shizuo was roaring in frustration. He supposed that he might too, if he’d been in the same position and somehow able to think of anything but the memories he associated with those powerful legs…

Twisting at the waist, Izaya spun himself around. There was a manic sort of look on his face, captured perfectly by the lens of the security camera.

He was beautiful, really. Beautiful and deadly, like some sort of exotic plant that lured in unsuspecting tourists.

Those ridiculous legs kicked him off the ground then bent at the knee. They moved quickly to his chest, effectively shrinking Izaya as the STOP sign swiped beneath him.

It felt like he was in the air for too long, almost as if he were in slow motion, but Tsukumoya felt no need to panic. This was a dance that Izaya knew all the steps to, so there was no need to worry for his safety. Besides, even if there had been some cause for concern, he would have been too caught up in Izaya’s movements to realise it.

Izaya hit the ground on the balls of his feet, keeping himself low so as to miss the swipe of the STOP sign above his head. The move was far too obvious though, and Shizuo seemed to know just what Izaya had planned as well.

He brought the sign up above his head with both hands before crashing it down toward Izaya. Tsukumoya leaned on the edge of his seat, wondering if Izaya knew how swiftly death was approaching him-

But that’s when he saw it.

The wink.

The movement had been so slight, Tsukumoya had almost believed he’d imagined it. But then something else-

A pursing- no, puckering of lips.

Directed at the camera.

Directed at him.

Tsukumoya’s heart sped up, moving almost as quickly as Izaya did when he launched himself off the ground and into a rather graceful backflip. His coat opened as he did, fluttering around him as though it were waving, and the smallest amount of skin peaked out from beneath his shirt.

The sign didn’t so much as graze him, instead becoming buried in the ground where Izaya had crouched not a second earlier.

Tsukumoya let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and wondered why his face felt so warm. Of course Izaya had known he was watching, he always knew.

As he laughed to himself, Tsukumoya pushed away from the desk and looked away from the monitors. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text, then fixed up his hair as best he could.

Izaya would visit after that performance, surely.


     Today, Say’ri no longer felt the static.

    Even after knowing her companionship for years, the bladeswoman still felt a bizarre tingling upon coming into close proximity with the Voice of Naga. Like passing through a thin, aqueous forcefield, simply stepping besides her, as Say’ri did now, felt different from accosting anyone else in conversation, even those of the Ylissean army with fantastic origins like the taguel and the ever-enigmatic tactician.

    She had always chalked it up to a distinct separation in nature between manaketes and man. With the essence of the eldest race, draconic blood, flowing through her veins, as well as possessing the wisdom of several millennia in timeless eyes, it didn’t surprise her that many people, even those from the devout province of Chon’sin, regarded her as a being on another realm. Upon first meeting, Say’ri viewed Tiki as such, despite the Voice’s insistence to not stand on ceremony; one so accustomed to propriety like her still lapsed into formal areas of speech even though Tiki distinctly made an effort to explain to her that she was little different than the other beings who walked upon the land.

Keep reading

My Master link to all my smut stories <3 well some are missing but for the most part, they are here

Night Shift (Jimin)

Super Hard Punishment from Daddy Namjoon

(Ambw) Threesome with boyfriend Yoongi and Jimin

(Ambw) Threesome with Namjoon and V

Shopping with Hope

First time with Jungkook(smut fluff)

Ride me part 2 threesome with Jhope and Jungkook

Friends with Benefits(Ravi)

Detention with Teacher Jimin

Office yoongi

Student teacher sex(Jimin)



Kitten Yoongi

No Sex Banned(Daesung)

Rough sex(V)

50 shades of Namjoon

Study Session(Yoongi)

Jealous boyfriend(Yongguk)

Alpha Sequel(Jhope)

Bad Boy(Yoongi)

Makeup sex(Yoongi)

(Ambw) Concerts with Rap Monster

Movies, threesome with Jimin and Namjoon(Ambw)

Punishment Teacher Namjoon

Gangbang: Zico,Namjoon, Suga, Taewoon(ambw)

Workout: Namjoon, Jhope, Suga threesome with girl(Ambw)

Geeky Monster

Late night threesome with Suga and Namjoon

Fighting with Daddy(Namjoon)

Rap monster x Tao drabble

Fire: Taehyung x Yoongi x Reader

monster-teeth  asked:

Hush!!! :D

Prompt: “Hush” - one character comforting the other (from fear) 

The screaming wakes him up some nights.

Not the people begging for help, for someone to save them, for mercy

Not the children shrieking as they burn, flames melting their flesh and smoke choking their lungs.

His own screaming. Something so primal and full of terror that even after he wakes up, he’s left shaking, panting in the darkness and trying to remember where he is now. Who he is now.

“It’s okay,” Saitama’s voice is soft, but it startles him every time, making him flinch.

“You’re okay,” Saitama says again, putting his hand on Genos to calm him down, to ground him back into reality.

“It was just a dream. It’s over now.”