i have a thousand followers and now is your chance to show your power

scandal sentence starters aka lots of angst, sex, and murder.

send one for my muses reaction! Feel free to change any gender or anything that needs changing in order for it to make sense to have come from your muse.

It’s only day 2 for this shirt, and these panties are fresh from the dryer. ❞
I don’t need you to forgive me. I haven’t done anything wrong. ❞
I’ve always forgiven you until now. ❞
I can never tell if you’re lying. I can never trust my gut when it comes to you. ❞
Are you spying on me? You don’t trust me? ❞
How do I choose the box to bury my friend in? ❞
If he dies, he can’t talk. Dead men tell no tales. ❞
When you walk in here, you make me hope. Hoping is bad for me, so do not come back here unless you are back for good. ❞
When it’s your turn, you can talk, but right now, be quiet. Let yourself be kissed. ❞
It’s always his turn, despite the fact that I’m the one you like to ride, that I’m the one that makes you moan, that I’m the one who reaches you in places that he can’t begin to touch. ❞
We can hide in the shadows or we can stand in the light. ❞
I’m not gonna live in your apartment, waiting to service you. I have things to do. I’m busy. But, I did book a nice hotel suite for booty calls. ❞
Do you actually think I give a damn what anyone thinks of me anymore? ❞
A broken heart is a broken heart; to take a measure is cruelty. ❞
You can’t summon me. You are not in charge of me. ❞
Did you think I’d want you back? ❞
I am less than interested in whatever it is you have to offer. ❞
You thought I would be dragged in here and I’d lay eyes on you and I’d gasp, and I’d rip off all my clothes and crawl on my knees over to you and beg you to take me, that I’d be some kind of sad porn fantasy. ❞
I could have anything I wanted, and I wanted you. You can laugh at it and make fun of me, but the truth is, nobody else wants you. ❞
I’ve lost too much. I’ve given up too much. I’m not even a person anymore. ❞
I’m not like you. I’m sorry you miss me, but I’m not like you. ❞
Why are you picking a fight with me today? ❞
You’re thirsty, but you’re not here for a drink.❞
You’re here because you want what you’ve been fantasizing about ever since you left the other night. ❞
I can give you what you want just the way you want it. ❞
You either go home alone and try your own hand at quenching that thirst or go upstairs with me and replace that dry lump in your throat with something much more satisfying. ❞
Trust me; I will be the one standing over you when you die. ❞
You keep secrets from me. You make me feel small. ❞
Burying yourself in work isn’t always the best thing when you lose someone. ❞
I’ve got enough blood on my hands already. ❞
Don’t ever leave me like that again. I almost didn’t survive. I almost died without you. ❞
You have been waiting for this moment from the second I got in bed with her. ❞
It doesn’t matter what the truth is, does it? The only thing that matters is that I put my hands where you think they don’t belong, and now I’m in chains. ❞
I am going to have you destroyed. ❞
He’s a predator, an animal, a killing machine, and just because you’ve decided to turn a blind eye to that doesn’t make it any less true. ❞
I think you want me to be guilty. Guilty lets you hate me for things you’re not allowed to hate me for. ❞
If there’s any part of you, any part of you at all, that believes that I’m telling you the truth, you’ll help me. ❞
You may have never heard what it sounds like when she wakes up screaming from a nightmare, but I have, and it’s awful. ❞
The truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a while, but it’s not gonna go away. ❞
Since us bitches have got to get through this dog and pony show, I’m gonna need you to sit down, shut up, and follow my lead. ❞
Is she right about you having nightmares? ❞
Don’t let love cloud your judgment. ❞
We both know in the end you’re not going to choose me. And that’s okay. I want you to know, I need you to know, not choosing me is okay. ❞
I keep my promises. I will watch the life fade from your eyes. ❞
I love her. Does that matter to you at all? ❞
It stops you every time, the arrogance, the need to swagger, to show everyone who you are. ❞
True power hides in plain sight. ❞
You and I are ruined. We don’t have a chance now. Too much has happened. ❞
I know you’re trying to be rational, and I understand why, but you can’t pretend this is okay. ❞
I mean, I figure we have two choices here - we can either pretend this unbearable sexual tension doesn’t exist, or we can address it head-on. ❞
You are beautiful. The face that launched a thousand ships. ❞
What is it that is so special about you? You have so much power over him. He revolves around you. ❞
He needed you. He was in pain. He wanted to die. ❞
I could protect him from everyone. Except you. ❞
I wanted to shoot him. I didn’t, but I wanted to. I wanted to kill him. I wanted him dead. ❞
I’m very powerful, you know. Some women would find that a turn-on. ❞
Let’s just say I’m in a giving mood tonight. ❞

Geno answered some questions from hockey fans for NHL.com/ru (Published date - April 7, 2017). Thank you so much @raindropcastle  for the help with the translation! 😇

- Evgeni, who is the best defensman in the NHL?

- Right now it’s Brent Burns from San Jose. He’s very effective on offense and he plays hard on defense. He’s having the best season of his career. Dominates in the team and in the league. Good shot, skating. It’s hard to play against him; he’s strong physically.

- Which NHL match do you remember most?

- There were enough of them, but probably Game 7 of the 2009 Stanley Cup Final against Detroit. There was tremendous pressure; we played on the road. The Red Wings were pressing us in the third period. Frankly, they outplayed us. But we scored fast goals in the first and second periods and held on to the lead. I remember a lot of excitement; how we wanted to win the Cup. Incredible emotions!

- Which Stanley Cup was heavier to raise - the first or the second?

- The first, because we lost the final to Detroit in 2008. It was very disappointing. Then we started the season badly. We were losing a lot of games, and changed the coach. However, we managed to reverse the situation. And we won game 7, though Detroit was slightly better. We played three lines in the third period, as Sid got injured. Our force was running out. If it went to overtime, we probably simply wouldn’t have had enough power. It was the most difficult victory. With the second Stanley Cup it was a bit easier. We led 2-0 in the series and matches developed in our favor.

- How do you measure Pittsburgh’s strengths in the fight for the Stanley Cup?

- It was a very busy season; there was the World Cup and last season we reached the Finals. We played a lot of matches in the last two years. But we have a good team, and the team’s makeup almost didn’t change. Young guys joined the team. They show a bright game, getting a lot of points. Jake Guentzel, for example. It’s a bit difficult to pronounce his name (smiles). These guys bring lots of speed. We have a good enough chance this season, if the injuries bypass us and we get a little bit of rest before the playoffs.

- Jaromir Jagr is already 45 years old, and he wants to sign a new contract with Florida. Up to what age would you like to play?

- It’s hard to guess, I’m only 30. I’d like to reach 40. Hockey is my life. And if you finish your career, it will become quite boring. But it all depends on your health. If your health allows, you can play for a long time. And if not, then don’t pull the last straw, don’t chase records and points. 

It happens, when hockey players suffer from concussions and it has lasting effects on their life after their career. People lose their memory. But I want my children to have a healthy dad. It’s important for an athlete to leave when it’s time.

- What was your favorite NHL team, before Pittsburgh chose you?

- I liked Colorado, as well as Detroit. I remember when the Russian Five was playing there, I was wearing a red cap. Then came the jacket with the emblem of Colorado. I loved Forsberg, Sakic, as well as Fedorov, Yzerman. At the time, it was difficult to follow the NHL, but I read in the newspapers about battles between those two teams in the playoffs. They even had had five on five fights. All of that was interesting to follow.

- Who is the best hockey player in the world?

- Sidney Crosby. I play with him, and I’ve seen a lot. Now there’s also Connor McDavid, a unique young hockey player. He shows tremendous hockey skill. So I’ll single out these two.

- You have two Stanley Cups. When you were with the national team did you make fun of Ovechkin?

- No, how can you say so? We respect each other. You see, the NHL and the national team are different things. And how can I gloat over Ovechkin? It would be very ugly. I understand how much he wants to win, his desire. You can’t joke about this.

- Is the gap between our hockey and Canadian hockey that big?

- Yes, there is a difference. Compare at least the number of hockey rinks here and there. But Russia has always been famous for individually strong players who played in small cities, and then reached big heights. Hockey in Canada is a tradition, it’s very widespread. Out of a thousand players, ten will be very good, and they will get through to the top. We have single breakthroughs, but there’s no such mass character. That’s what we need to develop, so young people will go for sports more and hang out in nightclubs less.

 - Do you began to play more accurately with age?

- I won’t say that my game has changed a lot, but with experience you get smarter. If you see a situation where a quick pass is the option and holding onto the puck isn’t a necessity - you’ll quickly pass it and won’t take an extra hit.

 - Do you often attend NBA and NFL matches?

- I rarely go see American football. We have a heavy schedule, and when the Steelers play at home, we’re on the road. But I love all kinds of sports. I go see NBA games if there’s time on the road. A couple of times I even went to Cleveland - it’s two hours away from Pittsburgh. We saw LeBron James the year he reached the Finals. They won the sixth match at home. Basketball is a very interesting sport. And it’s always interesting to watch how professionals work.

anonymous asked:

I was really struck by something I read in one of your earlier replies to an ask, which was "we’ll never know what Rachel would have done after the war ended", and I wondered if perhaps you may actually have some thought about what might have happened if she did? How WOULD Rachel, who thrived in war, adapt to the mundane life after?


After a while Rachel’s aunt and uncle get so used to her stopping by that they just make her a copy of their house key; it’s easier than answering the door all the time or leaving a window open for her, besides which they’re grateful because she’s there almost every day to bully Jake out of bed and into the world to go do something.  Most days it’s just attending Habitat for Humanity builds in the devastated areas downtown or visiting kids from the local hospital who idolize them both.  Rachel doesn’t mind dragging Jake out of his room at all, because while Tobias is good for taking random college classes or exploring new parts of the country with her, there are still plenty of stupid things that she can only talk Jake into doing.  Together they surf during hurricanes, skydive without parachutes, swim to the bottom of the ocean as orcas and throw themselves off cliffs as birds of prey.  

Rachel doesn’t pretend to understand what he’s going through, because she quite simply can’t—if she even tries to think about what it would be like if it was Jordan or Sarah she’d had to kill during that last battle, she tends to lose the ability to breathe.  But while she can’t give him empathy she can give him this: the scream of wind rushing past their bodies as they hurl toward the ground at nearly a hundred miles an hour, the incomparable thrill of the ground approaching them faster than an oncoming train, the moment of simple euphoria during that millisecond decision to once again open one’s wings and tell death not today.  He doesn’t smile much, and never laughs, but that’s always been true to some extent.  She doesn’t concern herself with making him smile, but with forcing him to gasp for air in his refusal to give up on life, to morph when not doing so would mean drowning in the cold Pacific, to swerve a second away from spattering on the ground.  Because she’s the only one who understands the power of those moments to make them forget everything in the world except the heady rush of being so goddamn alive they can barely even stand it.


It’s strange, really, how tough and showy they can be around each other most of the time… and how vulnerable they can become when no one else is around.  Rachel’s pretty sure she’s the only one who ever saw Marco cry after they all watched Eva’s body tumble hundreds of yards to its apparent death, and she knows for certain that she’s the only one to whom he says “it’s like we never really got her back at all,” the day his parents announce their divorce.  In public Rachel and Marco become even more themselves, one-upping each other to see who can come out with the most embarrassing story in round after round of interviews and bantering at lightning speed as live studio audiences laugh and cheer.  Rachel gives a hysterical, exaggerated account of Marco’s failed attempt at gatecrashing William Roger Tennant’s award banquet; Marco comes back with a heroic narrative of how his llama-self saved an entire television studio from the crocodile Rachel conveniently forgot to mention she had puked out backstage.  When talking about the time Helmacrons invaded Marco’s nose, they each manage to make the whole mess entirely into the other one’s fault.  

In private, they sit on the back porch of Marco’s primary house once a week and work their way through a bottle of triple sec they’re definitely too young to own.  It’s during those long evenings as the sun sets over the Newport Beach mansions that they air the things to each other they’ve never told a living soul before.  Marco talks about the hard bright-edged joy of watching 17,000 yeerks sucked into space and only being able to imagine their screams.  Rachel confesses to having cried herself to sleep after she and Ax dropped David on that island.  They air their sickest thoughts, lance their most pus-rotted wounds, spew poison at each other because they know that they are both strong enough (hard enough, cold enough, ruthless enough) to take it and give back in turn.


Rachel’s honestly not sure how far Cassie would have gotten, politically, if not for her help.  Because that girl might have passion and conscience and common sense to spare, but Rachel’s not sure she’s met a more appearance-clueless person in her life.  The world of politics runs on fashion and makeup, though, especially if one happens to be a woman, and any time Cassie’s about to go tell the United Nations why they need to update the Universal Declaration of Human Rights today to include the hork-bajir and taxxons, or to scold Congress into giving the ex-hosts war reparations and not murder charges, Rachel is there in the background helping.  She shows Cassie the power of stalking into a room in a pair of towering heels, the ways to make a string of pearls or a Chanel handbag into a weapon of power.  Cassie laughs incredulously every time Rachel shows up at her house with a literal truckload of perfectly-tailored business suits and evening gowns, but over time she starts to understand just how much her reputation for being as elegant as she is fierce can work in her favor.  

Rachel, in turn, starts to put out patents for the kind of clothes Cassie would love: comfortable and practical items that can be worn for years without needing replacement.  Rachel figures that if she’s an international trendsetter already (and she is: her line of perfume makes millions every year, while black leotards are debuting on Paris runways) then she might as well have her best friend and the world of high fashion meet in the middle.  Of course Rachel doesn’t explicitly mention that her patent-leather pumps with arch support and heel padding are inspired by the experience of trying on Cassie’s Timberlands, or that her choice of size-16 models for all her advertisements comes from making dresses that would fit Cassie and sizing up or down from there.  But what’s most amazing to her is that the other dressmakers and shoe lines start to emulate her choices, emphasizing the comfort and sturdiness of everything they make even as they tout it as “cutting edge.”  If Rachel has dragged Cassie into being a fashion icon, then it turns out Cassie might just have dragged Rachel into being a social justice warrior along the way.


Ax seems somewhat dumbfounded when Rachel explains that there’s an Earth tradition that any ship’s captain can perform a marriage ceremony, and that even if there’s no law on the books about this particular power she wants him to do it anyway.  She’s not sure herself how her and Tobias’s small private ceremony (at least, that was the intention) has grown so much, but even she has to admit that somewhere between the 230-person guest list, the custom chuppah to be hand-embroidered by a team of local artists, the five-tier cake imported from a German bakery, and the dress which is personally designed by Alexander McQueen, things might have gotten slightly out of hand.  Ax takes the duties very seriously, practicing the strange mouth sounds he has to recite more than once in advance and promising solemnly that he will not eat any of the cake until Rachel and Tobias have had the chance to cut it.  

He serves as their best man as well (probably breaking with tradition, not that they care) and the speech he makes afterward is surprisingly heartfelt.  «There has been no greater honor in my life than to fight by your side,» he tells them, «and I owe you both my life many times over.  I owe you more than that, of course, for you have made this strange planet my home when I came to you lost and alone.  I am not sure what humans traditionally wish for each other with a bond such as this, so I will wish you this much: may your lives be long, may your battles be easily won, may you be loved and feared in equal measure, and may your chili always be perfectly seasoned.» 


It’s not like they get jobs, or hold down formal obligations, or do anything more structured than attend occasional classes at UCSB or consult with the fashion agency that sends Rachel freelance checks.  So there’s really no reason they can’t continue their odd lifestyle, only in the same form at the same time for two hours at most.  At least, that’s how it is for the first several years… and then one day Rachel comes out of the bathroom, a tiny white stick in her hand, and they both realize their lives are never going to be the same again.  Tobias is terrified, of course: he’s been abandoned (voluntarily or not) by two parents, four guardians, and countless authority figures, and he’s got no reason to believe he’ll be any different.  But he knows what the first step will be in committing to raising this baby for real.  And so he morphs human for the very last time.  

In the years that follow, after their daughter eventually gets a little brother as well, Rachel and Tobias become more boring than they ever could have hoped for.  Rachel starts working full-time as a fashion designer, while Tobias finishes an advanced degree in graphic design and gets a job with the marketing branch of the same company.  They go to PTA meetings and teach their daughter softball, buy a sedan with good gas mileage and a two-story house in Mendocino County where the reporters can’t find them.  They still get restless sometimes, leaving the kids with Loren or Sarah for a week or two at a time to go white-water rafting on the Colorado River or to climb mountains in Tanzania, but they always miss the kids enough to come home before long.  They donate thousands of dollars to end world hunger every year, and they fundraise millions more.  Someday they’ll retire.  Someday after that they’ll die.  For now, however, they’re alive, and that’s enough.  

Imagine You Have a Rare Disorder

You’re a sophomore in college when you start noticing some odd changes.Every month, about two weeks after your period, you’re easily distracted, especially by men. A professor’s cologne in the hallway can send you into a wild daydream that makes your cheeks flush and pupils dilate. As a conservative girl saving yourself for marriage, you’re worried, so you make an appointment with a counselor. The counselor reassures you that feeling more easily aroused during ovulation is perfectly normal.

Month by month, the symptoms gradually get worse, but you do your best to work around them. You start packing several extra pairs of panties in your schoolbag on “those days,” because by mid-morning, you’ve soaked through the originals and are paranoid about the smell. You drop an art history class because the male anatomy on display makes you lose all concentration; you avoid the gym two days a month for the same reason.

* * *

By the middle of your junior year, your symptoms have worsened drastically. Not only do you get wet and flushed at the slightest suggestion of testosterone, but thanks to your hypersensitive clit and lips, you’re also prone to spontaneous orgasms. Thankfully, there is usually at least a second or two of buildup, which enables you to brace yourself and disguise the climax when in public. But with each new cycle, your orgasms are triggered more randomly, and they’re becoming longer and stronger.

You eventually figure out that you can stop having orgasms at inconvenient times… if you release the tension yourself, at regular intervals. So when you feel the onset of your heat, in addition to extra panties, you pack a massive vibrator and spare batteries. (You try using a more discreet one at first, but you seem to build up a tolerance to it; it isn’t long before you’ve upgraded to the biggest one on the market.) Whenever you get a chance between classes, you run to the nearest private washroom and unwrap the silicone savior with clammy, shaking hands. You can’t rip your panties down and shove it in fast enough. You brace yourself on the edge of the sink with your left hand, convulsing again and again as you thrust the vibe into yourself with your right, panting like a bitch in heat, exploding with fluid nearly every time, fluid that somehow never runs out, fluid that streams down your hand and thighs and soaks your jeans and puddles on the floor until your body finally gets what it needs. You clean your vibrator as well as you can, touch up your makeup, and make the most of the few hours of freedom that follow.    

After hitting rock bottom in your parents’ bathroom over Easter weekend, you finally put your denial aside long enough to do some research. As you feared all along, none of this is normal. Not even close. You see a GP, who refers you to a series of specialists.

The invasive examinations inevitably cause you to dig your nails into the paper and climax violently. Each doctor awkwardly asks if you’d like to reschedule, but you beg them to keep going, to find out what’s wrong.

* * *

It turns out that what’s wrong is your ovaries.

Or rather, your extra ovaries.

As the MRI scans show, you currently have three pairs of full-sized ovaries, plus at least a dozen more pairs of varying sizes, all growing rapidly. This steady but dramatic escalation in fertility has been causing you to get increasingly high on your own hormones each month.

The doctors believe that a genetic mutation is probably involved, but agree that in the short term, the ovaries will need to be surgically removed before your symptoms get any worse.

Unfortunately, the only surgeon qualified for this procedure is booked solid for another month. The doctors estimate that you will have a fourth pair of functional ovaries by then, so your next ovulation – due in three weeks - is likely to be even more intense than the last.

“It is absolutely essential,” intones the gynecologist, “that you use birth control responsibly in the meantime, and ideally that you refrain from sexual intercourse of any kind.”

“I’m abstinent by choice,” you reply proudly. “I may need to physically… handle… my urges, but when it comes to guys, I can control myself.”

“Ah… well, even so,” the neurologist says, frowning, “You can’t afford to take any chances in your condition. Even if you’ve stayed out of trouble so far, your hormones have already caused serious behavioral changes over the past year. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I highly doubt that your purity ring will stand much of a chance once that fourth pair matures.”

“And if you get pregnant during this kind of ovulation, we’re looking at guaranteed multiples,” warns the obstetrician. “You don’t need that on top of everything else. Incidentally, we’ve also detected some other hormonal and physical abnormalities that may have repercussions on pregnancy – we’re still waiting on those tests. So for those reasons, you really need to do everything in your power to prevent impregnation for the time being. Okay?”

The other doctors concur. They prescribe a birth control pill, sedatives to calm your nerves during your next ovulation, and a morning-after pill (“in case something happens”). They also recommend that you employ female supervision, and perhaps even physical restraints, to keep you from having sex with a man before your surgery.

After your appointment, you go to the pharmacy and buy the sedatives, but you crumple the other prescriptions into a ball and toss them in a trash can. Birth control? Plan B? Restraints? How dare they. You’ve gotten this far without their condescending advice. Your body may have betrayed you, but your virtue has been unflagging through it all.

And it won’t let you down now.

* * *

In the days before your next heat, you get ready. You fill your studio apartment with food, water, vibrators, and batteries. You get a vague doctor’s note from a clinic and reschedule an exam. You plan to take a double dose of sedatives as soon as you feel your time coming on, which will hopefully make the physical distress more manageable.

You’re a little nervous, but you’re sure that if you stick to the plan and stay indoors, everything will be okay.

* * *

…You come into heat a full day ahead of schedule, in the middle of the night, your hormones surging and overwhelming you so quickly that they jolt you awake.

“Ohh… oh God…”

You fumble for the lamp on your nightstand, manage to switch it on. Your need is already at a critical level; this is happening too fast.

You try to think. What was it you needed to do? You needed to take… something…

“Nghhaaahhhhh— oh fuck, fuck, fuck…”

It’s no use, you can’t remember. The plan is gone. All you can think about is filling yourself, now. You yank the nightstand drawer off its rails; the vibrator rolls under the bed.

“No! Shit! Wh-where… is…”

As you drop a foot to the ground to get out of bed, your pussy brushes against the edge of the mattress.

“Ahhhh… fuuuuuuuck!”

An orgasm rocks through you. You hold on for dear life. This is not how it usually goes. Usually you have much more time before it gets this intense.

The orgasm drops off, and your desperate arousal instantly returns. Carefully this time, you lower yourself to the ground and grope around frantically for the vibrator. It’s no use; you can’t locate it.

As if enraged by your failure, the throbbing heat in your hugely engorged clit and lips flares inward and upward, inflaming every square millimeter of tissue between entrance and cervix.

“Haaaaahhhhhhhhh… oh God! Oh God please fuhh—ooooohhhhhh God…!”

You’re out of your depth now. Even with your biggest vibrator, you’d be powerless to meet this kind of demand. You’ve never experienced anything like this before.

And yet, shuddering alone in the darkness, you recognize it. It’s your primal instruction, your absolute purpose. But to overcome your own refusal of it, you need to say it out loud, to hear yourself name it.

“Need to… m-make…”

You sob as tears flood your eyes. You try again.

“I… need to make… babies…”

Your innermost Truth is so beautiful, so simple. You want to kill yourself for denying it for so long. But if you do that, your babies will never grow inside you, will never be born. And that would be a thousand times worse that death.

Lurching to your feet, you manage to soothe yourself slightly by murmuring your Truth under your breath. It’s the only thing that gets you from your bed to your door without collapsing.

Need to make my babies. Oh my babies, oh so many, oh so big and strong. My babies. They’re going to grow so strong, so big, so many, so many, so many, my beautiful, precious babies.

You find yourself going down the hall. Your body leads the way; your mind follows by quite a distance. Even so, you know where you’re going, because it’s the only place that exists anymore.

The apartment next door, where the young male lives.

* * *

There’s light under his door – he’s a night owl. You knock. No answer. You knock again.


When the male sees you in his doorway, his look of annoyance turns to shock. You’re wearing a threadbare t-shirt that accentuates your erect nipples. A gold crucifix pendant. No panties.

Before he can say a word, you shove a hand down his boxers. Just the sight and smell of the male should have caused you to climax immediately, let alone the warmth of his thick member, but your adrenaline-fueled sense of purpose buys you some time.

Staring up at him with your hugely dilated pupils, you manage to communicate some of your Truth as you stroke him hard, but you can feel your furious need surging once more.

“Y-you… you need you to fffuck me and put… put you cum-m in… ahh— inside me. Right now-ohhhhh. Ahhh—f-fuck. I’m gonna… I’m gonna come, but it’s just–haaahhhh… shit… listen… y-you need to fuck me after this bec-auunhhhaaahhhhse… haaaaah… becauss’ I need to get so fucking ­big I can’t move… and I… I need… my… my… my precious babi— oh! Oh God!-AAAHHHNNNN—!!!” You barely have time to pull your hand away and throw both arms up against the doorframe before an orgasm seems to electrocute your entire body from within. You feel more liquid than ever gush out of you, and your vision blurs.

When the world comes back into focus, you look up to find abject horror in the male’s eyes. But it doesn’t matter; you know without even looking that his cock is hard as iron. You stumble past him into the flickering light of his TV. There’s a beat-down, stain-covered couch against a wall. You kneel, facing backwards, on one of its filthy cushions, gripping the seat back for dear life with both hands. Then you raise your ass and display your throbbing wet entrance to the male. You pray silently, feverishly, not daring to look behind you.

My babies. Need to feel my babies and grow them and make them, so many, so big and so strong and so precious. Please God, please God, I need my babies, my babies, oh please… fuck, fuck, why isn’t it in me yet? Why isn’t he filling me with my babies? Please, please, I can’t take this anymore…!

But just as you’re about to turn around, you feel big, warm hands on your hips, and finally, finally, the male plunges into you.

* * *

Thanks for reading,
Body Hostage

One day, the wise woman of the village called all the children to her house.

She sat with them in a circle, and they ate and sang together until the moon was high in the sky. The children had never been allowed to stay up as late. They were excited. Their tongues prickled with the spicy soup that the wise woman had given them.

When the fire was just a low glimmer of ash and wood anymore, the woman lifted her hand.

The children that had been laughing and chattering fell quiet.

The woman said: “Show me the palm of your hand, and tell me only the truth. Swear on it.”

“I swear,” said the children. Some whispered it, some barely got out the words, but all of them were shivering because they felt something old and large reach for their hearts. They didn’t know if it was the soup, the woman’s power, the moon, or just their own awe before the world and the night that made them speak truthfully.

The wise woman lowered her hand. She looked at one after the other. Her eyes were warm as the fire, dark as the moon’s shawl above.

“Speak what you wish to raise in your life.”

Everyone was silent for a long time.

The woman turned her head towards the first boy.

“Family,” the boy mumbled. Then, a bit louder, clutching his empty soup bowl, he looked at everyone with honey golden eyes, wide with kindness. “Mine and others.”

The old woman said nothing. Only her head moved from then on, and it pointed to the next, the next, one after the other.

And the children spoke.









While the children said their words, the old woman drank them in. She let then settle into her memory, anchored them where they were safe.

One day, when the children were of age, she would ask them again.

Some would have changed. If they had lost their path, she would remind them of their old words, of the dreams their hearts had forgotten about. That there was a way forward, in whatever direction it may run. If they had found another way for themselves, she would gift them their once-adored word still, so that they had something to always return to and would know that once feeling something did not mean that you wouldn’t ever feel something else.

And if the children still chose the same way, then it would be their time to raise something.

So the children spoke their words. Only two were left now and before the woman could turn her head, they spoke at the same time.



The other children shivered. For a long time, nothing moved. Even the fire seemed frozen in the moment. Finally, the woman tilted her head.

“What do you mean?” she asked the two. She hadn’t asked anyone else.

The first child stood up, hands curled into fists, eyes burning. “If anyone gets in my way, I’ll bring all of the world down on them!”

“I’m scared,” whispered one of the children.

The woman looked at the other child, whose eyes were calm as the dark sky above. “And you?”

“Myself,” said the child once more. “Nothing more and nothing less.”

The first child laughed. “That’s stupid. Just yourself? What can you do with that! When I’m older, the world won’t stand a chance against me.”

Before the second child could speak, the old woman stirred. She reached out for the child’s fingers and took them into her own. The other children watched, wary and confused.

“Before you raise any of your dreams,” said the old woman, a smile on her fire-warmed lips, “I want all of you to remember this.” And when the child who stood glared at her, she took its hand as well until it sat and put its head against her shoulder.

“Raise yourself, children, and you will stand against anything. Raise yourself, and the whole world will rise with you. Hell and heaven and every fear will fall if you hold yourself upright and look to the stars. And if you cannot rise anymore, stand. Stand. The horizon has been born for thousands of years, every morning and every night. Admire its strength, when you are weak, but do not forget:

You are the dawn. You are the dusk.

The world will follow. Raise all that you are, before anything else.”

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes.[*Smut]

A/N: Sorry this took forever to get up. I had to rewrite it. It’s not as smutty as I’d liked it to be but I’ll write another one later that more smut. love ya xx

Request: yes, by several people.

“You ready for this?” The Sheriff asked me as we stood in front of the door to Derek’s loft. I could feel him looking at me but my eyes were glued to the large metal door. On the other side was Stiles. Only it wasn’t really Stiles. As Kira’s mother liked to put he was void. More specifically he was possessed my a thousand year old fox spirit with a hankering for strong emotions. In a nutshell, everything about Stiles was Stiles except the only part that matter, his mind. I tore my gaze from the door and it landed on Mr.Stilinski. How do I answer? One of my best friends was in there.

“Are you?” I asked genuinely. He only look at me with eyes of uncertainty. I nodded and took a deep breath. I placed my hand on the handle and slid the heavy door open. Stiles was standing in the center of the loft in different clothes then the ones he’d worn to Echin House, which was the last time I’d seen him. His skin was more pale than usual, and the circles under his eyes made it seem like he’d never known sleep. The Sheriff moved closer to his son, producing a pair of handcuff and dangling them. I trailed behind him, being sure not to get to close.

“You’re going to handcuff me?” Stiles said and it was unsure whether this was really him or not.

“If any part of my son is still in there, he’ll let me. Because he knows I’m here to protect him from himself and others.”

The boy held up his hands together so the Sheriff could place the cuffs on him. As his father did so, Stiles looked past his father to me. I froze not expecting to be noticed, and stared directly in his eyes trying not to show fear. He pursed his lips into a dark smile, and it was clear the boy I loved wasn’t there. I’d never admitted I loved him to anyone before including him, and I was afraid I never would get the chance now.

“You’re not my son.” Sheriff Stilinski gritted. The Nogitsune smiled wider and broke the handcuffs, they swiveled off his wrist on to the ground. Derek, Chris Argent, and Allison all were standing close by waiting incase Plan A went awry. As if on cue, they appeared in the threshold of the door. Derek bent down on a knee changing from human to wolf form in the process. Chris and Allison were both wielding their weapon of choice. I’d been offered a gun and even a knife, but not being experienced with either, I declined. Allison attacked first, pointing a stun gun at Stiles and shooting. The point of this rendezvous was to capture not kill. Unfortunately, the Nogitsune had powers we weren’t aware of. He grabbed the prongs, even though electricity bolted through them, and whipped the weapon from her fingers. Derek attacked next without warning, so quick and agile I was sure he’d catch Stiles off guard. I was proven wrong, when Derek’s arm was twisted, then he was slammed into a nearby table, and thrown into an adjacent wall. Stiles shifted his head to me with an obscure smile, I stepped back a little frightened. Before he could make a move, Argent was in front of him with a gun pointed at him. The corner of Stiles mouth perked up before he turned to his father a fear stricken look on his face.

“Dad? Daddy? He’s going to shoot me! Don’t let him shoot me!” He cried. Argent didn’t budge saying he’d killed many supernatural creatures before, a Nogitsune would just be another. Father Stilinski drew his gun on Argent. A verbal fight broke up amongst the team. I covered my ears with my hands trying to block out everyone’s voice. It was so chaotic, and as I thought the words I knew this was his doing. He was feeding off it. Allison and I had the same thought and she spoke before I did. She yelled over them to stop, and they did just as the sunset outside. 

“This is what he wants.” She barked at them, no one lowered their firearm. 

“Not exactly.” He smirked. “I was kind of hoping Scott would be here. But I’m glad you all have your guns out, because you’re not here to kill me.“ He paused. Just as he did, the room seemed a little off. A second later, we learned why. The Oni surfaced into the room, two in front of Sheriff and Argent. And two near the entrance where Derek and Allison now stood. By accident I was in the middle of them, and to my misfortune Void Stiles sunk in with me. Sheriff Stilinksi attack first firing his weapon, Allison and Derek followed, and lastly Chris whose gun stalled delaying him. Frightened by the presence of the Oni, I didn’t even notice Stiles slip his hand into mine. Only when an Oni blade missed Allison and almost hit me, causing me to curl into Him did I realize how close we were. I peered into his eyes, looking for a trace of the trickster. But only saw Stiles’s beautiful amber eyes shining down.

“Stiles?” I asked hesitatingly and he nodded reassuringly. I smiled only to be confused when something fabric covered my mouth and a haziness washed over me. Last thing I remember was his voice low and raspy.

“Never trust a fox.”

I faded into darkness.

When I regained consciousness, I was cold. A bone chilling cold almost as if I was outside. I could tell I was laying on some sort of cushion, but I was still a bit hazy and couldn’t make out much more. Several minutes later, after the cloudiness left my brain, I saw where I was. I was laying on an old blue couch that smelt vaguely of bleach and old people. The ceiling was cement except for two grated sections off to the right. A light shined in through the small holes and I recognized it as the moonlight making sense why it was so cold.

“Morning Angel.” His voice startling me. Stiles sat on the arm of the couch, and looked at me over his shoulder with a devilish smirk. I hadn’t noticed him sitting there before, and I wasn’t entirely sure that he had been. It was dark in the cold room and I could only see him though the faint moon light coming from above.

“Stiles?” I rasped, my voice getting used to working again.

He scoffed. “Wouldn’t that be a happy ending?”

No, it was void Stiles. Suddenly, the words resurfaced in my brain. ‘Never trust a fox.’ He’d convinced me with just a look in Derek’s loft that he was Stiles. How could I have been so naive?

“Why have you brought me here?” I demanded.

“Now, Y/N.” He chuckled standing and strolling over to me. I scooted further into the couch knowing there was no way out. “I can’t give away all of my secrets. But you know Stiles has many, would you like to know some?”

“Stop.” I whispered.

“Like how he had sex with Malia Tate on this very couch.” He pointed down to the couch. The news was a blow, I’d always imagined being Stiles first. My heart sank a little at the thought.

“Stop.” I said sternly again try to stay strong.

“Or how he’s kissed Lydia before, and constantly thinks about doing it again.” Another blow to my heart.

“Stop!” I screamed.

He bent down leaning his face close to mine and smiled. “Does the thought of Stiles fucking someone else discourage you? Is it because you love him?”

Rage boiled through me, I hated the fact he could see right through me. I couldn’t control myself and I smacked the boy in front of me across the face. His head was thrown to the side from the blow. When he turned back to me, he had a cold look in his eyes. My breathing was uneven from a mixture of fear and anger. As I stared back at Him, I saw something else in his eyes. Something I hadn’t seen until now. Unexpectedly, he rammed his lips into mine. I pushed him away confused by the act. My lips tingled with the feeling of his on mine. I kept him at arms length, my hand still gripping his shirt. I couldn’t get the thought that I’d just kissed Stiles out of my head. I knew it wasn’t really Stiles, but physically it was.

“Do you know what the Nogistunes feed off on?” he whispered.

“Chaos. Pain. Strife.” I listed.

“Mainly.” he agreed. “We feed on much more. We’re all hungry, Angel.” He pushed past my failed attempt at holding him back, and leaned into my ear.

“I feed off lust and desire. Like your desire for Stiles. Or your lust for me to fuck you right here.” 

I wanted to admit his was wrong, that I didn’t want him near me. But he began to run his hand up my thigh and a current ran through my core.

“You can’t resist me.” He taunted in my ear, before ghosting his lips over my neck.

I closed my eyes and found myself urning for him. I clenched my jaw.

“S-stop.” I stuttered.

“Hm?” He hummed against my neck.

My heart was racing, I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t give in, but I couldn’t help it. His lips finally connected with my neck instantly hitting a sweet spot, making me moan. I dug my fingers into the couch, trying not enjoy this. Trying not to reach out from him, I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I had to be strong. But he withdrew from my neck, and collided his lips with mine. Without hesitation, I kissed him back. He climbed on to the couch with me his body hovering over mine, and my fingers reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled away allowing me to pull it off him. He grabbed the collar of my t-shirt and ripped in half making me gasp, I hadn’t been wearing a bra and my boobs were instantly exposed.

“Stiles is missing out.” he grinned.

His words angered me and I pulled him into another kiss biting on his lower lip hard. This only seemed to entice him and he let a growl, he grabbed my waist rolling his hips against mine. I felt his hard bulge through his sweatpants making me realize how wet I was. He brought his hands back to my chest kneading my breast greedily. His lips met my nipples, and he nibbled on the sensitive nubs. I let out a incoherent moan, dragging my nails across his back. 

“Just fuck me.” I half begged.

He didn’t need to be told twice, we both quickly discarded our bottoms. I opened my legs allowing Stiles to aline himself. He gently held on to my waist before he rammed his length inside of me and began thrusting vigorously, pulling a hungry groan from my throat. Already I could feel a rippling inside of me, each thrust sending me closer and closer to my release.

“Faster.” I bellowed.

He smirked speeding his thrusts to an unfathomable pace roughly hitting my g-spot. My walls started to clenched around him, and I knew what was coming.

“Come.” He demanded and I did. My orgasm fueled the Nogitsune to reach his. His movements became careless and needy, and a few seconds later I felt his warm liquid fill me. 

My eyes flung open, and I shot up breathing excessively. 

“Morning, Angel.” He said indifferently. Void Stile sat on the arm of an old blue couch looking at me over his shoulder.

“Sweet dreams?” His lips curled into a dark smile.

one last try || lacrosse week

Author: @dylanobsessed
Prompt/request: aye !!!! this was written for @rememberstilinski && @sarcasticallystilinski‘s lacrosse week and i loved the whole concept of it so much. thanks for doing and i hope y’all enjoy the story !!
Warning: swearing and i’m pretty sure that is it 
Pairing: stiles x reader
Notes: shout out to @sincerelystiles for helping me with the little bump i came across in the story and being such a gem !!
Words: 6,585 ( i got really into this okay i’m not even sorry )

I stood there.

Watching him.

I had the lacrosse stick in my hands and my knuckles were turning white from the anticipation of eyes witnessing his body run forward and give his best efforts to make a goal but once again, fate got involved and it’s another miss. Each time it became more difficult to witness how defeated he looked after missing a shot, how he would stand in the background feeling envious of everyone on the team, and how he looked let down by his lack of skills. He tossed his helmet onto the ground which was followed by his stick and various angry words were thrown into the air.

Keep reading

If It Were Me

I did this thing—

We all know the story of Inuyasha. Well, I twisted it. I reversed the whole thing. Inuyasha is now the one who is thrust into the past. He is still half-demon. He is eighteen. His parents and brother are alive. His parents met in the 21st century so Inuyasha is only legit eighteen when he gets thrust 500 years into the past. Kagome is the one who lives in Feudal Japan. She is the keeper of the jewel. Naraku is still evil. Some things are the same. Some things are not.

Keep in mind, I wrote his years ago. I tweaked it. I tried. I’m sorry. Read it. Judge it. Whatever. 

Ladies. Let me know. It’s a chapter fic. I suck at updating them, but I like this concept so I plan to continue. Enjoy.

 My main gals: @keichanz @inunanna @lacyjaybird @adorableears7 @kags09 @inukag-4ever @artistefish @dreaming-of-the-midnight-sun


She ran, as fast as she possibly could, as her legs grew weaker with each root she stumbled over.

“Damn it.” She hissed as another root caught her ankle. She forced herself back up, despite the pain, and continued to run as fast as her legs would carry her.

 The sound of rustling could be heard behind her. The wind whipped around her face, stinging her eyes, forcing her vision to blur. Her hair, which was once pulled back in a delicate tie, was now loose and catching on low branches. She cried out as she fell once more, but she managed to stand quickly, despite the throbbing in her legs and feet. She clutched her fist to her chest as she ran, careful not to drop the valuable item.

“You can run, but you won’t get away from me.” 

The voice carried through the trees, sending cold shivers down her spine. “I can try!” She shouted back, never looking away from the path.

The moon shone brightly above her, lighting her path to safety, or so she thought. Once the meadow could be seen before her, she jolted past the old well in the center of the clearing and made her way for the only sacred place in the forest, the Goshinboku. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing was labored and the cool air stung with each intake. She wasn’t sure if she could make it any further, but there, there the tree stood.

“I see you!” The voice cackled as she ran toward the tree.

Placing the item around her neck, she reached for her bow and notched an arrow. Standing tall, she took aim at the figure walking towards her from the shadow of the trees. “Stop!”

The figure, for a split second, stopped before proceeding once again. “Now, now, Kagome. What has you so worked up?”

“As if you don’t know, Kikyo.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Give me the jewel and I’ll let you go.” She said softly.

“But why? Kik—“

“Save it. Give me the jewel, Kagome.” Her voice no longer as soothing as it once was.

“Never. You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers.” Kagome released an arrow, forcing Kikyo to dodge. The priestess, once gaining back her balance, glared at her.

“I guess you leave me no choice.” The movements were to fast, Kagome had no time to dodge as Kikyo fired a sacred arrow at her, piercing her through the heart.

The arrow struck right through her chest and pinned her to the tree, causing her to become immobile. Her eyes widened at the impact and she dropped her bow with a thud. Her right hand came up to reach for Kikyo as pain, confusion and betrayal crossed her once bright, brown eyes. “Why?” Was all she could say before Kagome could no longer fight the pain and finally admitted defeat. Kagome’s eyes closed and she released a shuddering breath, and her arm fell limply to her side.

Kikyo stalked to the tree and set her bow down. Slowly, the body began to morph and soon, a man stood in place. He searched for the jewel. “There you are.” Reaching out a pale hand, the jewel shone brightly before disappearing in a blinding light. “What?!” He screamed. “Where did it go?” Composing himself, he searched again. When he could not find it, he let out a vigorous scream. “Damn bitch!” He cursed again. He turned, looking at a figure standing outside the clearing. “Kikyo, find the jewel, and do not let me down!” He shouted, disappearing in a cloud of miasma.

Kikyo walked up to Kagome. Maybe she should have killed her, but she couldn’t give Naraku the satisfaction. Instead, she placed a curse on the arrow he had fired. However, maybe that’s why the jewel vanished. “I’ll find it Kagome, and when I do, I will kill you.” She whispered.

The arrow lodged into her chest was no ordinary arrow, for the power it held pinned Kagome to the Goshinboku, placing her in a deep sleep for 50 years.


He jolted awake, the dream felt so real. But what kind of dream was it? The faces were a blur and the voices were disoriented. “I have to stop eating before bed.” He groaned.



“It’s time for you to wake up.”

“Five more minutes.” Rolling over, Inuyasha tugged the covers higher over his head.

“Now, son.” Inuyasha protested when the comforter was ripped from his grasp. “You need to be at school early today. Remember, you are taking that field trip to the Higurashi Shrine.

Grumbling, the half-demon drug himself from the warm comfort of his bed. “I’ve seen that shrine a thousand times. Not to mention all the stories dad has drilled into my long term memory.” He ran a hand through his thick, silver bangs. “Can I just skip today?”

“Absolutely not. I caught you skipping school last week. You will not do it again. Or so help me Inuyasha, you will see a side of me you will not like.”

“Keh, calm down, mom.” He raised his hands in defense.

Izayoi’s eyes softened. “Good boy. Breakfast is on the table.”

Once she was out the door, Inuyasha grumbled. “She can be one scary ass woman.”

“I heard that Inuyasha!” Izayoi’s voice echoed down the hall.

Golden orbs widened at the venom behind his mother’s words. Inuyasha’s ears pinned to his head as he shut his door quickly before running to his bathroom. Pretty good hearing for a human. He stepped in the shower and let the hot water finally wake him.

As Inuyasha made his way to school, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. The wind was blowing his onyx bangs against his forehead and he scoffed. He wasn’t sure which he hated more, the fact he had to hide his youkai or the fact he was demon and half human. It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t help who he was, and damn it, humans were all very prejudice. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he approached the school gates. A large bus was waiting at the entrance and he scanned the crowd for his best friend.

“Inuyasha!” He turned his head and caught site of a young woman advancing towards him.

“Haruka.” He greeted. “You seen Ryou?”

A frown crossed her features. “What about a “Hey Haruka, nice to see you?” She crossed her arms.

“Keh.” He looked around again. “Hey Haruka, nice to see you. Now, have you seen Ryou?”

She sighed. “Yes. He’s with Michiko. They were waiting for you by the bus.” She handed him a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Don’t forget our date tonight. I’m tired of you always forgetting about me.” She leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “See you at seven.” She ran off to meet up with a group of girls heading into the school, tossing a quick, “Don’t forget Yashie! This is your last chance!” over her shoulder as she ran.

He cringed. Her perfume was very overpowering and even with his concealment charm, he still had his youkai senses. “Keh.” He crumbled the paper and put it in his pocket. 

“About time.” Michiko slapped Inuyasha’s back. “Ryou was wondering if you were ever gonna get here to hold his hand on the bus.” She laughed.

Ryou sighed. “My dear Michiko, that is why I am dating you.” She scoffed and punched his shoulder. “Shall we?”

And as Ryou grabbed his wounded shoulder whined about his true love was anything but elegant, they loaded the bus and headed off towards the shrine.

Will this day ever end?


“— any questions?” A shrine maiden, Inuyasha forgot her name, asked the group before proceeding. “Very well. If you will, please follow me to our next destination.”

Inuyasha grumbled once more as he followed the group of fellow classmates through the shrine grounds. He was tired of listening to the never ending stories of the Warring States Era. He was a half-demon, his father lived that era, who was after all a thousand year old daiyoukai. Inuyasha had heard these stories for the past eighteen years of his life.

“This is the Goshinboku: The Tree of Ages. Legend has it that an evil, but powerful priestess pinned another powerful, pure priestess to this very tree.” The maiden looked at the tree and smiled, her eyes shining with love of the story.

“Why would she do that?” A fellow classmate asked.

“Because —“ the maiden began.

“Because,” Inuyasha stepped forward. “The evil priestess wanted something the pure priestess had. Legend never states what the object was.”

“Um, yes. That is correct.” The look in the maiden’s eyes was gone. Touching the small hole that had scarred the tree from the bond priestess, she spoke. “Unfortunately the evil one never found what she was looking for. That is why we do not know what it was.” She turned to the crowd.

“Any questions?”

“Showing off again?” Michiko asked.

“This is nothing new to me. I’ve read about it, heard about it, and studied it.” Inuyasha said shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Why does your father continue to question you about the Feudal Era?”

“I’m a hanyou, he doesn’t want me to forget who I am. We live among human and youkai, only youkai are thought to be extinct. All youkai conceal themselves, just like my father, brother, and I. 

“Well, we’re glad to know who the real you is, after Michiko and myself caught you jumping ten feet into the air when we met in preschool.”

“Well, stupid. You got your kite stuck in the tallest damn tree on the playground.”

“And if it wasn’t for your constant whining, Inuyasha would have never revealed himself.”

“It was my favorite kite!” Ryou protested.

The all laughed at the memory. “Come on guys. Let’s get back to learning.” Michiko pulled the two along.

Looking back at the tree, Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest. He knew exactly what the evil priestess was looking for. She wanted the Shikon no Tama a powerful, marble-sized jewel which granted whoever possessed it with immense power. In the Feudal Era, which his father had told him, the Shikon jewel was guarded by a powerful priestess with the purest of hearts. The jewel was sought out by the most evil of youkai, in hopes of gaining the immune power the jewel promised. 

Inuyasha’s father never revealed any names of the past, for in his father’s eyes it was better left just that, the past. He told Inuyasha legends and stories since Inuyasha was born. This left Inuyasha’s imagination to run wild. Izayoi, his human mother, had met Touga twenty years ago. He had revealed himself to her, claiming her as his mate. Of course youkai were hidden behind concealment spells in modern Japan that created a glamour that masks youkai’s true appearances. Only powerful mikos could see through the glamour if they focused their powers on it. 

Inuyasha’s charm was a purple beaded rosary with white fangs every few inches apart. His father had it made especially for him when he was born. Touga’s charm was the wedding band Izayoi had engraved for him by one of the few living mikos in modern Japan. Sesshomaru, and his mate Kagura, a wind witch, wore matching wedding bands. Sesshomaru had Totosai, an elderly swords smith youkai, forge two matching wedding bands. One was Kagura’s made from a rare ruby stone with the engraved band that matched his; both made from one of Sesshomaru’s fangs. The two of them had lived through the past 500 years adapting to each century and its customs.

Inuyasha tucked the rosary back into his uniform jacket and followed the crowd. As they passed a small building, a light caught his eye. It was surrounded by a weird aura, which caught Inuyasha’s interest and he let his curiosity get the best of him. Looking to see if the mob of students or the shrine maiden would notice, he slipped into the building. It was dark, and as his eyes tried to adjust, the light appeared again, in the center of the small building was a wooden well. It looked ancient, but intriguing. He hopped down the ledge of small wooden steps and made his way closer; a piercing, blue light emitted from the bottom of the well.

“Hello? Anyone down there?” He waited for an answer, but none came.

“Inuyasha?” He snapped around. “Come on, if that woman catches you, there’s no telling what she’ll do.” Ryou looked behind him.

“Keh, I’m coming.” One more look down the well and the light was gone. He hurried to follow Ryou back into the sun light.

He looked back to the old well house, the odd aura leaving a very unsettling weight on his chest. Shaking his head lightly, he turned back quickly, jogging to meet up with his class.


The night approached quickly, Inuyasha was lying on his bed. The eighteen year old glanced at the clock and it read five-forty-five PM. He sighed. What was that aura? The weird, blue light? His mind kept going back to the well house and that mysterious light. It was unusual, but it intrigued him more so. A knock on his door shook him from his thoughts.

“Are you going to change and head down for dinner? You’re mother was thinking about ordering out and watching a movie tonight.” 

“Actually, since it’s Friday, can I head out with Ryou and Michiko for dinner?”

Touga smiled. “Sure son. Kagura mentioned having dinner with your mother and I for some time now.”

“Your mother and I are what? Where are we going, dear?” Izayoi asked from behind her husband. 

“Call Kagura, we’ll have dinner with them tonight. Inuyasha is heading out. 

“Sounds like a date.” She kissed his cheek before turning to her son. “Inuyasha, leave that cell phone on.”

Keh.” Inuyasha bounded off his bed and raced past his parents, but not before he was wrangled into a kiss on the cheek from his mother.

Inuyasha made his way out of the house and found himself back at the Higurashi shrine. Okay, so he lied. He was not meeting anyone. He just wanted to check out that well house again. Inuyasha climbed the thousands of steps and kept to the shadows as he made his way to the shack. The aura had been faint, but it was still there. 

Opening the doors, he caught a glimpse of the same light. The sun was setting and the orange glow created a small path of illumination from the door to the well. Leaping from the stairs, he walked to the edge of the well lip. “Hello? Anyone at all in there? I saw the blue, pillar of light.” Again, he waited for an answer that never came. 

“Fine, I investigated my suspicions.” He shrugged and turned to walk away, but not before the light shot out from the darkness and wrapped around him. “What the fuck?!” He shouted.

Closing his eyes, he prepared his body for contact with the hard bottom of the well. When his body did not hit earth, he opened his eyes to see he was engulfed in a radiant, sea of blue light. He turned his head to see a silhouette of a person in the distance. He called out to the figure, only to get a faint response.

“I’ve waited so long for you, Inuyasha.”

“What?” He asked. The silhouette disappeared. “Wait! Where am — oomph!” The light vanished and he came face to face with solid ground. “What the fuck was that?” He looked up to see the sky covered in a million beautiful stars. “I must have hit my head if I can quite literally see stars.” He grumbled and prepared his legs to jump.

Once he grabbed the edge of the wooden structure, he almost fell back down when he noticed a luscious, green forest surrounding him. His feet landed on soft grass, greener than he had ever seen. 

Tokyo isn’t known for its greenery or forests and there is no way in hell you could see this many stars with all the light pollution from the city. He thought. Damn, am I even in Tokyo anymore? 

He wasn’t sure what to do, but for time being, he just began to walk. Sighting a dirt path to the left of the clearing, he made his way through the trees. He could hear an owl hooting, and crickets chirping. The air was much cleaner, Inuyasha couldn’t detect a hint of pollution. He shook his head and pinched his cheek. “Nope, it’s not a dream. I’m definitely not in a city of Tokyo anymore.”

Hiding Secrets and Making Amends - Peter Parker x Reader


The day when my life changed drastically seems to live again each and every day of my existence.

What I’m saying is, when I’m walking home from school and my eye catches a glimpse of an Olaf plushie in a store window, I get a vivid flashback to when I nearly turned my bathroom into a meat locker. Or when my sister comes running into the living room singing the infamous lyrics to Let It Go, my hands feel like I am dipping them into a frozen lake.

Yes. I have freaking ice powers. Just like Elsa from the overplayed Disney movie, Frozen. How I managed to contract said powers is a great question and I wish I had an answer to. If you know somebody that knows, please tell them to call me because I’d like to not make anything I touch into a huge ice cube, thanks. Anyways…

The only reasonable explanation that I reassure myself with when I’m loosing my wits, which is almost everyday, is, ‘Y/N…it’s probably karma for constantly nagging about how annoying that movie is.’

It was cute the first two times, third replay and on, I’m was more surprised when I didn’t tear out my hair or roll my eyeballs to the back of my head than I was when I found out I had had these powers. Seriously, I’m not even joking.

I wish I was though.


School let out and I was walking towards my home. Kids my age would pop in their music and walk home but I don’t trust those around me enough to do so. Plus, who doesn’t want to hear the sounds of taxi’s blasting their horns or find happiness in a fight between two business men about taxes and promotions.

Gotta love Manhattan.

When I approached my front door, I wiped out my key and unlocked the door and giving it a good shove to open it. I nearly fell pushing in, but was ok because the smell of my mom’s homemade spaghetti sauce filled my nostrils.

“Mom! That smells amazing!” I shouted at her while walking the opposite way, down the hall, to throw my school things in my room. My book bag fell to the floor with a loud thud and my shoes skidded across the floor making a few more thudding noises.

The smells of the sauce that made my mouth drool, pulled me towards the kitchen. I entered the kitchen and hovered over my mom getting an even bigger wiff of the dinner when I caught something in the corner of my eye.

It was a man. He wore glasses with colored lenses and had a some facial cut in a way I have not seen before. My eyes stared at him curiously.

“Oh! How rude of me! Y/N, this is Mr. Stark. He says he knows you and would like to talk to you.” My mother told me over her shoulder.

When the word ‘Stark’ entered my ears, my mouth dropped a little. Everyone knows who Tony Stark is. He’s like the richest man within a thousand mile radius, maybe more, and not to mention, but I am anyway, he’s Iron Man.

Mr. Stark sat up from his seat at the dinner table where no one else was, and held out his hand.

“Nice to see you again, Ms. Y/N.” I took it warrior and shook it. Still keeping my curious eyes on him. “Can we talk outside?” He asked gesturing towards the back door.

“Uhh…yeah. That’s fine.” Mr. Stark turned on his heels and followed me out. When we’re out of hearing range, he began to speak. Much differently than how he introduced himself moments ago.

“Alright, let’s cut to the chase. You’re weird.” His voice was serious but with a hint of sarcasm. My lips formed a frown. “But you’re not alone.” Mr. Stark pulled out a tablet from the inside of his blazer coat and held it out for me. My hands grabbed it before I could process was happening.

My eyes watched was showing on the screen. Each clip that played was a clip of me. A clip of me going about my everyday life. But every clip wasn’t of me just in school taking notes or walking home or sitting in the park. Each clip shared one thing in common. My powers. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet and bit my lip.

A clip showed up of me sitting in my history class. I was taking notes feverishly and within my grip, the pencil began to frost in my touch. In the video, I quickly noticed and grabbed another pencil. Which, in my book bag, I had three make packs in there.

“Is…is that me?” My voice was louder than what I wanted it to be. “Are you stalking me?” I said quieter.

“Yes and yes.” Mr. Stark pointed down the screen again telling me with no words to continue to watch.

The next clip was of me walking home. My head was held up high and my hands were in my coat pockets. I followed myself on the screen with my eyes and saw that I was walking into my favorite no name coffee shop. When I grabbed the door handle, it froze under my touch. , and I slipped inside. I gulped and blinked a few times.

“Ok. I get it. You know my secret…” My head lifted up and I looked over Mr. Stark’s shoulder. He clicked off the tablet and stuck it back into his blazer. “Please don’t tell mom…or dad.” He let out a sigh that blended with a chuckle.

“Relax, I don’t plan to tell anybody.” He looked me in the eye and crossed his arms. “How long did you know about your powers?” As a force of habit, I bit my cheek in thought.

“Uhhmm…almost a year…?! Yeah…yup. Almost a year.” My eyes observed as he simply nodded not taking his eyes of me. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

What was I suppose to do?

“Look. You are capable of something powerful. It could saves life and it could take them.” He walked around slowly on the back porch where we stood. On the railing, he flicked off a leaf that fell from a nearby tree. “If you come with me, I could help you control them.” Mr. Stark stopped where he was and turned towards me.

“Uh…me? You help…me?!” I stuttered.

“Only if you want me too. Although, if I was you, I wouldn’t pass up on this offer.” He rubbed another lead he found between his fingers. It was now my turn to not take my eyes off of him. My eyes searched for a sign of dishonesty. I couldn’t find any.

“What about school? About my family? I can’t leave the-”

“Gosh you’re just like spidey. What’s up with kids questioning a once in a lifetime chance?” His eyes were furrowed and his head was tilted off to the side. Mr. Stark was truly curious.

“Maybe because this…what’s happening now…isn’t…normal.”

“Look, I came here to recruit you. Not have a causal conversation. So are you in or not?” He huffed in annoyance. “Don’t you see what your capable of? You could do some great things! But if you don’t let me help you, you could hurt those you love.”

I bit my lip again ,which was bleeding, surprisingly and after making a quick decision. I nodded. “I’ll do it.”

Mr. Stark smiled and dug for something in his coat pocket. It was a business card.

“Call me when your ready to train.” He walked back to the door but turned around. “And please don’t loose that. I don’t need my phone being blown up by immature teens trying to prank call me.” And with that he escaped back into the house, leaving me alone with his card.

“What just happened?” I said out loud.


Originally posted by fantasysystem

Long Time: Part 1/?

Prompt: “It’s been a while.” With Loki

“All father! Loki has been spotted!” A guard ran into the feast currently being held for the royal family and their advisors and their family. Everyone stopped in complete shock at the news, well everyone but Odin and Thor.

“What!?!?” The pair stood up roaring the one word together. Odin seemed mad, Thor seemed worried, (y/n), (y/n) was relived. Loki was alive, her Loki. He was alive and well! (Y/n) fidgeted with the emerald ring on her hand as the guard stammered out his next sentence.

“Loki, we have finally spotted him my king!” The guard’s voice held less conviction and a murmur began to spread about the room.

“Father, let me go. I can bring my brother back!” Thor stood up, slamming his hand on the table. (Y/n) looked at him wide eyed. How could even think Loki would want to see him!

“No! Send me Odin, you know Loki will have the best response if I am present!” (Y/n) stood up looking at the All-father. Thor paused for only a moment, looking at me before turning back to his father.

“Father please-” Thor did his best to try and convince his father, but he had no silver tongue like Loki’s.

“Silence! Both of you come with me!” Odin stood walking out a back door. Thor scrambled over his chair to follow, while (y/n) seemed to glide. She waved her hand over her outfit enjoying the gasps she received as it changed from her gown to her battle armor, which was made of dark purples and silvers.

The group scurried quickly to where the gatekeeper was keeping as best of watch as he could. His eyes flickered between each of their faces, pausing at (y/n)’d, before settling on Odin’s.

“He was spotted on Midgard sir.” The gatekeeper stood tall and proud, his facial expressions never changing as he told his tale.

“Earth! That is my realm to protect, send me Father!” Thor was at his father’s ear in seconds, beating his hammer against his chest as if he were trying to prove something.

“Enough Thor, change into your battle armor. I want you both gone together in an hour. I will need your help with magic lady (y/n).” Odin silenced Thor with one quick hand movement before turning in his heels sharply. (Y/n) followed him, upset that Thor was coming, but she knew he would always get his way.


“Thor, we need a plan” (Y/n) stood in front of the man, stopping him from just running after his brother at the very moment.

“I have a plan lady (y/n)!” Thor whined doing his best to side step you.

“No, you have a feeling. We let the midgardians get him and then we steal him from them” (Y/n) pushed her hands against the large man’s chest, shoving him slightly in order to make him see her way. Thor grumbled nodding. He wrapped his arm around (y/n) and flew them to a small rock out cropping in the woods.

“Now, we wait”


“I thought you dead” (Y/n) hid behind the rock waiting. Thor had wanted to try and prove that he still had a connection with his brother, if only to himself.

“Did you mourn?” (Y/n)’s heart broke at the sound Loki’s voice. It had been years since she had gotten to touch him, and her hands were itching at the chance.

“We all did. Our father…” (Y/n) felt the tears brimming in her eyes. She had just come out of mourning, but even then she still wore her fiancé’s colors.

“Your father. He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?” Thunder rolled at this covering up the gasp that had escaped her mouth. She had refused to believe Odin when he shared Loki’s secret with her and Thor, but there was no denying it now.

“Who showed you this power? Who controls the would-be-king?” There fight raged on and (y/n) knew it would soon be over. She clung to the rock working up her courage to face Loki.

“I am a king!” Loki’s yell sent shivers done (y/n)’s spine as she transformed her outfit into her regal gown that was meant for the night after Thor’s coronation.

“You give up this poisonous dream! You come home.” (Y/n) paused closing her eyes and praying. This was all she wanted, she wanted it home.

“I don’t have it. You need the cube to bring me back, but I sent it off I know not where” Her heart broke in a thousand pieces. They needed the cube, she need him.

“You listen well brother, I…” (Y/n) crouched seeing the man flying and watching Thor going. It was her time now.

“I’m listening” Loki was facing out, his face a smirk as he made the last comment. He quickly whipped around however when he heard the crunch of (y/n)‘a foot on the ground. Loki was ready for another fight, but he wasn’t expecting the angel in front of him.

“Loki” (Y/n) did her best to hold her composure, standing tall, and not taking another step towards the man she loved.

“(Y/n)” Loki’s voice turned soft and smooth in seconds as he wrapped his arms around (y/n)‘a waist, pulling her to him.

“No Loki, don’t do this to me. Don’t charm me like the snake they think you are” (y/n) looked up and away, now that he was so close she just wanted to touch him, all of him. She craved his lips on her neck and no sooner had she thought it was he there. He kissed his way slowly, starting at her collar and moving up, slowly. Biting, nipping, sucking, his way up to her jaw and hovering just above her lips.

“It’s been a while (y/n)” Loki captured (y/n)’s eyes with his, wrapping his long fingers around her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Yes it has and it will be even longer unless you tell us where the cube is” (Y/n) untangled herself from Loki’s arms, turning away. She clasped her shaking hands together, feeling his kisses burn on her neck.

“What, so you can bring me home! I have no home!” Loki stood yelling at his beloved. This was not how he had wanted their reunion to go. He had planned on ruling the earth first, then coming to claim his love.

“Am I not enough then? Is the ring I’ve kept on my finger not enough anymore!” (Y/n) turned around in rage, her elaborate gown changing back into her battle armor as she shoved her hand at Loki’s chest.

“You, you kept it?” Loki reached out to caress (y/n)’s hand as he stared at the ring. He had been sure she would have discarded it the minute she heard of his treason.

“It has yet to leave my hand” (Y/n)’s voice softened as she watched Loki. Something was horribly wrong with him. He was worn, worse than she had ever seen, but his eyes. His eyes were a vibrant blue.

“Loki your eyes” (Y/n) gasped, pulling her hand back as she stared up at them. This was not her Loki, this could not be her Loki.

“What about them?” Loki wrapped his arms back around (y/n), pulling her back to him. He needed to distract him, and quick.

“They aren’t your normal color!” Loki chuckled, smirking down at (y/n). He had missed her so much, but now wasn’t the right time to fully indulge in that idea.

“I can change every part of me yet you are worried when my eyes change” Loki’s lips went back to (y/n)’s neck, kissing down.

“You never changed your eyes” (Y/n) mumbled feeling her body given over to Loki’s silver tongue.

“You worry too much darling, now please. It’s been far to long” Loki stopped, pulling (y/n) impossibly closer as his lips hovered inches away from hers.

“That it has” (Y/n) whispered, closing the gap between them. Their lips met in a furry of promises long forgotten and those of yet to come. Loki began to push (y/n) back, pinning her against the rock. She moaned and Loki took the opportunity to slip his tongue. God how sh had missed his silver tongue.

“Uhm, if your done fraternizing with the enemy we would like to take him into custody” Loki whipped around, seeing the man in a uniform of Stars and Stripes. He growled ready to fight, but one look from (y/n) told him that if he fought, he’d be on his own. (Y/n) pushed Loki at the man, hating the betrayal in his eyes.

“We need the cube Loki. You know this” (Y/n) mumbled as a slightly beaten up Thor stood behind her.

“I see” Loki spit hating the sight of his brother behind (y/n). He hated the thoughts that roared in his head. He hated himself.

Part 2

Royalty Mess: Part One

author’s note: I’m such a sucker for royalty and Shawn but I won’t be making Shawn as a Prince here just for reasons, sorry. Feedback is very welcomed x



”Don’t be silly,” another non-grateful glance from my mother was sent straight to my face, ”you can be eighteen but it doesn’t mean you can go outside by yourself to meet your loving boyfriend.”

”And he is still not allowed to come to the palace, how equal is that?” Madness took over me again, trying to explain the Queen herself that I deserve some normal lad’s rights too. ”People don’t know that we are a thing, isn’t that already enough to go incognito and be myself who I am already?” I sighed.

”You’re a Princess, my darling. We do have to be careful what we are doing and saying, not just loose in and go with the flow,” her sigh was louder and more angrier than before. ”Also, in my opinion, but I don’t know  your father’s, you should break up with him - it’s not going to work out like that way. Come on, look at your nephew Harold, what happened with him and this girl Hannah - kinda hurtful, wasn’t it?”

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Harry Styles - Rich Girl Imagine

[Thank you to you and your friend! Enjoy and I AM SO SORRY IT’S BEEN LIKE A YEAR. I’M A FAILURE!]

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The Long Road Home: Part 1

Summary: Fate made you and Gabriel soulmates, but a spell has severed your bond completely and removed the archangel from your reality.  Will you be able to find your way back to each other or will you both remain lost?   (Sequel to Homeless)

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader, Destiel (side pairing)

Warnings/tags: angst, soulmates

Word Count: 4556

Author’s Note: This was written for June’s @gabriel-monthly-challenge statement prompt:

He remembered how excited he used to feel watching the sunrise.  Now all it brought was exhaustion and dread.  

I told you guys there would be a sequel.  I’m sorry it took so long.  My original idea was going to be a lot more concise, but in the interest of doing the journey justice, this is going to end up being multiple parts.    

Special thanks to my wonderfully amazing beta @sumara62.  Your suggestions and feedback are simply invaluable, as are your kind words and encouragement.  My work wouldn’t be what it is without you, my dear.  So thank you <3

Tagging everyone at the end (if you see a line through your name, I couldn’t get your tag to work, sorry!)

Gabriel had never been good with rules.  Well, that wasn’t completely true.  He was fantastic at breaking them.  Anything other than that, however, was a little iffy.  

He got it.  He really did.  You weren’t a fan of surprises.  He imagined most of your aversion to him stemmed from the fact he couldn’t help but be a constant one, though it wasn’t like it was his idea to have stealth mode permanently activated with you.  

He also understood how it might feel a little creeptastic having a stranger around without your knowledge.  Except he wasn’t one.  He was your father damn soulmate. 

Not that that little fact mattered much anymore.  

You couldn’t see him.  You couldn’t touch him.  You couldn’t feel him.  You couldn’t even remember him.  Every shred of evidence he had ever existed had been erased from your life.  The worst part of it all?  You barely wanted to acknowledge him.  

Father forbid, however, he didn’t acknowledge you or your damn sanctions.  

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Thimble 16화

1화 2화 3화 4화 5화 6화 7화 8화  9화 10화 11화 12화  13화 14화 15화

You weren’t supposed to be there. No one really was, out of palace servants crowding around you, but again no one would be there to tell you to go back to work, because every single of your superiors were out there in the field.

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Out Of My Mind [Part 3]

Author: smutandahalf

Characters: Reader x Void x Stiles


Word Count: 2,075

**Hello my lovelies, this will be the final part! Part One, Part Two are here! Enjoy!**

Originally posted by stydialovin

I wake up panting, my body covered in a cold sweat and Stiles tightens his arms around me.

           “What’s wrong?” He murmurs against me and I try to answer, but can’t. I can feel the darkness descending around us and it feels like it’s choking me. He runs his hands through my hair, a gesture that should have been comforting, but it feels wrong. Tainted. Stiles nuzzles his lips against my neck as he whispers softly to me and I flinch.    

           What do you want, Void. I shove the thought at him like it’s full of poison and he tightens his hold on me.

           How do you always know when it’s me? He wonders back and the tone of his thoughts feels different from the usual arrogance he’s plagued the pack with.

           Because you feel wrong.

           Don’t say that. He thinks to me quietly, running his fingers softly over my cheeks, a strange feeling coming across the link and I grimace.

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Servitors: A Basic Guide to Artificial Entities

By Sparrow


What Are Servitors?

Servitors are entities made by witches for a specific purpose. For a simple comparison, they are like imaginary friends.

Why Do People Make Servitors?

As stated above, servitors are usually made for a specific purpose. This purpose can be long-term or just until a specific action is completed. The most common reason is to create a servitor to serve as a protector, a living ward and shield. However, the purpose can be as simple as wanting a loyal companion, like a pet of sorts.

Servitors can also be made to carry out spells or curses. They will transport the intent to the target and then will cease to exist as soon as their duty is completed.

Types and Classifications.

Independent and Dependent.

And Independent servitor does not need its creator. It can exist without any attachment to the maker, leaving room for the risk of going rogue and disobeying orders. Independents are generally Intelligent. I do not recommend making Independent servitors. Dependents cannot exist without their creator. This makes them very loyal and will not be able to revolt without ceasing to exist. Dependents can have any level of Intelligence without risk.

Intelligent, Limited Intelligence, No Intelligence (No Free Will and/or no ability to communicate).

The level of Intelligence determines whether or not the servitor can speak, think, and have opinions of its own. It is what determines whether or not it is a dog or a human, to put it simply. This can be changed post-creation and servitors can evolve their Intelligence if given the chance and potential. Simple servitors that are not programmed to specifically stay at a low level of Intelligence can become very Intelligent.

Any combination of Independence (or lack thereof) and Intelligence will give you the basic foundation and limitations for your servitor. These can be changed post-creation, but it is recommended to keep the servitor in its original and intended state. High Intelligence coupled with Independence can potentially lead to trouble down the road if the servitor decides that it is not content with serving.

All of my servitors are completely Dependent, with varying Intelligence levels. It is much safer that way.

Methods for Making a Servitor (Soul Molding, Echo Weaving, Charging)

Soul Forming: This is the easiest way to create a servitor. It also ensures that the servitor is completely dependent on its creator and can be easily destroyed should it malfunction. This is recommended for companion-type servitors and long-term servitors.

Essentially, it is the process of the creator taking part of their energy or soul (whatever term you use), pulling a bit out like Silly Putty while leaving a string connecting to the main piece, and then shaping that bit into a form pleasing to the eyes. Using this method, the servitor is literally an extension of the creator. It is very easy to perform and the servitors made with this method are extremely dependable and easy to control, as the creator is simply controlling a piece of themselves. A good failsafe for this method, should a servitor try to go against its programming, is for the extended bit that the servitor is made of to immediately be reabsorbed at the first thought of retaliation. Nothing is wasted and it is very easy to “edit” servitors made with this method.

The main problem with this method is that it is not the safest method for servitors that might take damage. Protective servitors made with Soul Forming are extensions of the creator. Should they be harmed, there is a high chance of the creator also experiencing some discomfort. There is a possibility that, should a servitor be destroyed, that energy from the creator might not be able to be reabsorbed, causing a period of exhaustion as the creator’s energy work to fill in the gap left. So far, I have not experienced any of these possibilities, though they are something to keep in mind.

Echo Weaving: This is the newest method that I have begun to use. Servitors made with this method tend to have low Intelligence and are not as strong as ones made with different methods. This method is recommended for scouting, swarming, or easy-to-manifest servitors.

To use this method, the creator needs to be familiar with energy signatures, as this is what this method depends on. Everyone leaves behind a sort of echo or trace of their energy behind them, like footsteps. Once the servitor’s design is decided upon, the maker takes that energy signature echo and forms the servitor from it. This way, the servitor takes no present energy from the creator to manifest and it will feed on the constant echoes left behind. This method is currently being tested and has not been in use enough to know any possible problems that might arise.

Charging: This method is used to make a servitor out of a previously created character. It involves taking that character’s personality and form and pushing energy into it, as if breathing life into an empty husk. This method is recommended for those who already know exactly what they want. It is a process similar to charging a sigil or stone.

Each person generally comes up with a few personal methods that they prefer to use. These are just the main ones that I have used.


It is recommended that every servitor that is long-term be made a physical anchor. For example, one of my protective servitors is linked to our plane by a painted deer skull. Bones work very well for animal-like servitors. A physical anchor can be anything from a picture to a pencil. Sigils are often used, as well. A physical anchor should be kept somewhere safe and away from any hazards. Should the creator get too weak to manifest the servitor themselves, then the physical anchor is what keeps the servitor functioning properly until the creator is better.

It is also recommended that the creator make themself an anchor. This way, the servitor has a portable anchor and can follow its creator easily. Servitors with this type of anchor are always Dependent. The creator should never be the only anchor for their servitor, only secondary.

Anchors are like save files for servitors. Once a work is complete, it is saved to a USB or a hard drive. It exists in that save file and is preserved. The reason that more than one anchor is important is that, should one of the save files be deleted or corrupted, there is a copy in a different location.

Basic Rules

·         Whatever you create is solely your responsibility.

·         Any offense that your servitor commits falls back on you, as you are the owner and creator. The blame falls on you.

·         If you have no further use for a servitor, destroy it.

Am I Ready to Make a Servitor?

Do you have the design and purpose for your potential servitor? Do you know exactly what you want it to do, how to act, and how to look? Much like creating a character to use in a story, all of this is essential before the actual performance. You are creating artificial life, not doing improv. Details are a must.

Now that that is figured out, do you have your anchor(s) figured out? Are you healthy and have a good idea of how to make your servitor? Do you have shields and wards up in case anything goes wrong?

If all of these questions are answered with “yes,” then go ahead. Good luck.

What Do I Do If My Servitor Goes Rogue? Am I to Blame?

Yes. A thousand times yes. I cannot stress this enough. You made this, you are responsible for every little thing it does. The servitor is a part of you-or was. You must take the blame for anything it does. If it harms someone, you have harmed someone. Keep this in mind if you were planning on avoiding any consequences of cursing someone by having a servitor carry the curse.

If you have a dog and that dog attacks someone, you take responsibility for that attack.

Another thing to keep in mind, servitors typically carry the same or a very similar energy signature to their creators. If I sent out one of mine to attack someone, then it could potentially be traced back to me by someone experienced with energy signatures.

If a servitor goes rogue, destroy it immediately. Whatever it meant to you, it has decided not to follow you anymore. It is dangerous and should be erased immediately.

Things to Keep in Mind.

·         It is possible to unintentionally create a servitor. It is actually a common problem that not many people realize that they have done. If an entity shows up to work with you and acts exactly how you want it to, then it might be a servitor that you unconsciously made. These types of servitors can come in any form, even as a powerful entity that one might believe is a god or divine being. They will act out of character if they are in the form of a commonly known god, though to the creator it will seem completely plausible. They might visit others. The more people that believe them to be a powerful entity, the more power the servitor will gain. There is a possibility that these types of servitors do not know that they are not who they look like. These types of servitors, once discovered to be servitors, should be erased immediately to avoid any long lasting consequences.

·         If the creator does not name their servitor, it might name itself. This is not too big of a problem, but it is recommended to check the meaning behind the name it has given itself.

·         Do not forget that a servitor is not truly its own being. If it malfunctions or there is no need for it, do not hesitate to destroy it immediately. It can be remade better later on.

·         Intelligent servitors can access your own knowledge, resulting in them bringing up latent problems or fears that the creator has not dealt with yet. This can be distressing if the servitor presses to have the issue worked out and the creator is not ready to do so.

·         Servitors do not stop existing if you forget about them. I have one that I forgot about for two years and she is still around-she even gained a higher Intelligence level while I forgot about her. They exist in a sort of limbo.

·         Keep an eye on higher level Intelligent servitors. These can become dangerous if not kept in check.

·         Rogue servitors can come to you masquerading as entities. While you may have not created them, they are still servitors and should not be treated as true entities, no matter what they claim.

·         Should you believe in past lives, servitors created lifetimes ago by a previous incarnation might still exist. They are typically very weak after long periods of having no contact with their creator-many ceasing to exist if separated long enough. Ones that persist through the ages to find their creators are generally very dependable.

·         Servitors that can talk usually come up with a name for their creator. I have been called “mother” and “mistress” and “my lady,” to name a few possibilities. My servitors are generally very aware of the fact that they exist because I made it so, thus having some sort of reverence toward me. I would assume that this is common with servitors that know they are servitors.

·         Servitors are great constant companions. They can also be utilized in astral travel as companions, guides, steeds, and protectors.

·         A servitor might start to weaken over time or fade. Should this happen, push more energy into them to revitalize them.

·         Servitors can be given to other people should the creator no longer want them or decides that the other person can use their servitor better. Once ownership is given, the original creator has no control over the servitor. The new owner can change the servitor as they see fit and give it a new purpose. Only trust another with your servitor if you know that you will never want it back. The new owner can destroy it, as well.

·         Avoid naming servitors that only exist to carry spells, as they will cease to exist as soon as their job has been completed.


If there are any questions not answered in this guide or confusion about anything written above, please feel free to message tinyrosemarysparrows and I will answer as best I am able.

Nail Polish

Doctor Who, rated G, ~2000 words, Thoschei/Twissy implied

Just a fun little thing I wrote about Theta Sigma, Koschei and bottle of black nail polish. 

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Super Long Kylux Rec List #1 (Completed Works)

A large number of my favorite gleanings from the ever-amazing gift that is the Kylux fandom.  

Most are rated E, although there are some Ms and Ts.  I like long fics…5k is like a nice prologue to me, so these tend toward the lengthier side - but there are some shorter works as well.  I don’t always know which authors are on Tumblr or what name they use here.  If I’ve missed tagging one correctly, please let me know.

WIP Rec list coming next.

My preferred tropes…let me show you them.

They Team Up to Defeat Snoke and/or Rule The Galaxy (or Parts of It)

The House of Paper Bones   by @ofcorsetstrash
Not Rated - 58k
The author has taken the familiar elements of the story that leads up to TFA and thrown them into a Cuisinart, re-assembling them in all sorts of novel and interesting ways.  Part of the enjoyment of reading this is figuring out who is who.

Run Once More by leoandlancer
E - 70,900
Just post-TFA, bitter survivors of the Republic kidnap Hux with the intent to torture and execute him.  Snoke don’t care.  BAMF Ren saves the day.  That’s just the first 2 chapters.

Order in Chaos by @ezlebe
E - 86k
Force-Sensitive!Hux gets matched up as a young man with the volatile Kylo Ren, to aid him in maintaining control of his emotions.  

It All Goes to Hell (They Maybe Defeat Snoke But Rule Nothing) - Some Have MCD

In Our Bedroom After The War by @claricechiarasorcha
M - 8,600
The end of Hux and of Ben Solo’s sanity.  

The Cursed Prince and the Pauper/Soldier Boy by @5ovspades
G - 2,700
An AU told in fairly tale form.  Not a happy ending.  

Legacy (3 part series) by @kat2107
E, E, Not Rated - 46,700
A little something for everyone - S&M, Brendol Hux Sr’s A++ Parenting, Pre and Post-TFA, kids.  There are surprisingly few fics that give Hux a wife (he doesn’t have one here either) or children.  Meet his son, and later, Kylo’s daughter.  Not quite fluffy Space Dads; but there’s hope.  They defect to the Resistance.

Aware of His Own Halo by @badspacebabies
E - 33,400
Defeated Hux slinks off to lick his wounds in the ass-end of the galaxy on a two year drunk.  Ren shows up to (in the author’s words) “just fuck all the shame out of him”.  Ending is open - they may go on to galactic conquest, who knows?

Before TFA, When They Were Young(er)

The Slightest Shift in the Weather by @claricechiarasorcha
E - 21,500
My gateway drug into the Kylux fandom.  Maj. Hux the sniper and Kylo, Knight of Ren meet when they are paired together a mission.  This author really excels at the small observations and insights that really bring the characters to life.  There’s a follow-up story that’s currently a WIP.

You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger by @hollyhark
E - 36,100
Maybe not the exact right category for this, but…tragic Hux backstory, mind/memory alteration, so so many feels.  

Origin Stories by @hollyhark
E - 31,200
“Nineteen-year-old Hux goes on a tour of his father’s stormtrooper training facility and meets a strange, hooded financier and his equally strange but far more intriguing apprentice.”  One of those fics where you just want to grab them and say “Pay attention and get out now while you can!!”

Just Chillin’ on The Finalizer (usually pre-TFA)

This is kind of a catch-all category.  Some of these stories have multiple tropes going on and so I stuck them here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ties by Ajaxthegreat
E - 30k
We get to see ResourcefulEngineer!Hux at work with CrazyPowerfulForceUser!Ren on a planetary mission gone wrong, plus dreams of sexy mud (really) and my fave ‘sparring leads to sex’ action.  Pretty ‘Classic Kylux’ that leads to a hint of feels, too.

Be a Body by @cracktheglasses
E - 5,100
Hux just wants down and dirty bathroom sex while high on drugs.  He gets it.

What Can I Do For You by @claricechiarasorcha
E - 44,400
Jealous virgin Ren does not like it when he discovers the ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement Hux has in place.  This author has a number of short(ish) works, all of which I wholeheartedly recommend.  

At the Beginning of the World by @huxcrying
E - 10,100
“Porn With Feelings’ in here.  Also Virgin!Kylo.

Build a War With Your Assistance by grue, @whoresonbob
M - 10k
Post-TFA, they give each other gifts to express their…feelings?  Extremely funny.  Author description “General Hux is full-stop done with everyone/everything and Kylo Ren has the emotional maturity of a psychotic toddler.”.  The follow-up story is a murder mystery containing one of the funniest ideas I’ve encountered in this fandom.  Or maybe my perverse sense of humor just aligns well with the author’s.

I’m a Doctor Today, I’m Curing Viewers by the Thousands by grue, @whoresonbob
M - 5,400
A post-TFA absurdist screwball comedy with gross medical trauma and altered states of consciousness?  SIGN ME UP!   Part 2, Don’t Speak (I Came to Bang) includes tags for ‘nonchalant gore’ and ‘Snoke’s euphemisms for Masturbation’.

The Taste of Copper on Your Tongue by @that-vicious-vixen
E - 7,900
Three connected fics, all are good (don’t miss the last, Yours, B. Hux, a snarky exchange of letters between Hux and Leia).  The story arc: “Kylo Ren confesses his love like he does all things - with a straight face and loads of unnecessary circumstance, as if everything he is, was, and ever will be hinges on one moment”…”General Hux confesses his love just as he does everything else; with efficiency and few words, more “show” than “tell.”  In-between, you get power bottom Hux.

Sex Ed by DaveChicken, @sithofren
E - 2k - NOTE - this is Kyluxma
Hux’s sex techniques need improvement.  Why tell when you can show, with the Force?

Give Me a Shot to Remember by @decotext
Not Rated - 10,700
“You’re starting to suspect that this has all been the world’s longest joke, a lead-up to a great cosmic punchline. A morally ambiguous Sith Lord and sarcastic General walk into a bar…”
Funny and original writing style.  This is part 1 of 2, plus a stand-alone OC story (yes!  it’s good!).

One or Both are Unaware of the Other’s Identity, Allowing for Feels to Develop

Please Write Back by @acroamatica
T - 5,600
Hux gives good advice in his syndicated column (not an AU).

Check the ‘Porn Ships It’ category for a few more like this.

Fake Dating, Bed Sharing, Roommates, and We Just Work Together (Mostly Modern AUs)

Something About Volcanoes by betts, @bettydays
M - 28k
Office equipment sales coworkers Ben and Hux attend Rey’s Hawaiian wedding.

Downbeat by @acroamatica
E - 17,300
Hux the High-Strung Conductor vs Kylo the Intense Piano Virtuoso.  Snoke the shit-stirrer.  Bonus links to gorgeous music.

Stet by @acroamatica
M - 17,000
Hux the pissy editor vs Kylo the writer with writer’s block.  This author has an elegant, sophisticated - almost effortless (seeming) style.

Chaos, Control, and Corgis by RockSaltAndRoll and Shortsighted_Owl
E - 90k
Someone on the spectrum + someone else with BPD mixed with a lot of nosy & involved neighbors = a big payoff when they finally get there.

Parchment and Vellum by @gefionne
E - 32,300
If you like the idea of sexy librarians (who don’t know they’re sexy), here you go.  You also get Kylo the Weapons of the Middle Ages grad student.

From the Landscape: A Sense of Scale by @brawlite
M - 18,900
Not quite roommates, but an intense boarding school friendship that ends abruptly.  They get a second chance years later.  Poetic and beautiful.

The Secret Heart by @slutstiels
E - 48,300
Hux is a closeted actor, Ben an intense one; they’re cast together in career-making roles, but can’t stand working with each other.  Very hot sex, angst, anxiety spirals, etc, ensue.

Porn Ships It

Starfucker Base by @eralkfang and @nightsofllyn
E - 12k
Is Ren’s preferred redheaded twink porn actually made for him as part of a plot by the loathsome Resistance?  Hux can’t have that.  Super hot and also extremely funny.  

Wrong Number by @cosleia
E - 8,500
Lonely Hux misdials a phone sex line and gets Kylo instead.  Modern AU. Sweet & hot.

Cinema Verite by @huxcrying
E - 27,600
Hux finds a beautiful webcam boy and they become close.  He’s never seen Kylo Ren’s face so he has no idea they are one and the same.  Very hot and also FEELS.

Casadega by deadonarrival, @dead-on-arrivals
E - 40,800
Grad student Ben is an escort.  Post-divorce Hux just wants some relief.  Super hot plus feels.

Hotline Bling by @minzimpression
E - 36,900
Hux just needs some wank material and texts his most recent hook-up for a dick pic.  Wrong number!  What he gets instead is a picture of Kylo Ren’s mad dick.  You know this ends up with them getting married, right?

(Somewhat) Hard Kinks and/or ‘Classic’ Kylux Hatesex/Enemies that Leads to Something More Fluffy and Feels-y

Honeycomb by betts, @bettydays
E - 48k
Three tags tell the story: “Hurting Ben Solo for Fun and Pleasure”, “the author had to duct tape the mouth of her conscience shut to write this”, and “there’s no room for guilt when you open your heart to sin”.  10 kinds of wrong but so right.

This is Very Normal by zamwessell
E - 3,400
Not a hard kink, really - but not your usual roleplay/cosplay, either.

Not About Angels by MellyTheHun
E - 258,900 (This is a 4 part series, part 4 a WIP)
There are many tragic Hux backstories; this is pretty much the most tragic.  You also get sexy sparring, lots of Phasma The Awesome Friend, and a fantastic slow burn.  Also has something I really enjoy, where you get everything from two different POVs - the second one after you’ve spent a lot of time with the first and have largely accepted that one’s interpretation of events.

In a Place Where No One Appeared by @gefionne
E - 119,500
Immediately post-TFA, Snoke orders Hux to take Ren to Arkanis for recuperation.  We get tragic Hux backstory and a great slow burn.

Ex Machina by sual
E - 32,700
If there were more of this kind of fic, I’d make ‘Ben Solo Master of Droids’ a trope category b/c what can I say, I like droids and this author provides plenty of “cruel and unusual uses for droids”.   AU where Ben sees his future as Kylo Ren and rejects it - but is still an odd bird.  Surprisingly touching.

Anyone But You by zamwessell
E - 14,900
College AU.  Conservative & closeted Senator’s son Hux hooks up with liberal artist Ben.  LOTS of loud sexual encounters follow.  So much sexier than James Carville & Mary Matalin.  

And There Will Your Heart Be Also by jellyfishsodapop and oorsprong / @gentleman-caller
E - 38k
Kylo Ren is a considerate lover like a boss to blushing virgin Hux.  WHO KNEW.

Aletheia by @badspacebabies and @reserve
E - 40,200
Kylo is not a nice man.  Poor Hux’s brain, having so many memories altered.  NO KYLO!

Arranged Marriage, Fake/“Temporary” Marriage, and Other Forms of Forced Relationship

Husband by @eralkfang
E - 1,700
“Hux and Kylo get smashed when they’re on a random planet, and end up getting married - and having the wedding night to go with it. They wake up the next day, are suitably horrified, and vow to get an annulment asap.  Except they don’t. And they keep having sex. And one night, Hux calls him husband and Kylo comes right there and then.”

In This Life and All Others by @fakeandinspace
E - 47,600
An in-canon-verse AU where things went a different way post-Empire.  “The firstborn child of the Organa family and the firstborn child of a prominent military family, the Huxes, have been promised to each other since before birth, as a means of sealing a peaceful arrangement between the mercenary remains of the Empire’s military and a prominent ruling family of the galaxy” - One party DOES NOT WANT.  At least, at first.  Sweet and patient study of these 2 idiots getting to know each other.

Raise Your Hands With Burning Candles by @everknowing
M - 22k
12 year old Ben Organa is kidnapped by the First Order; his public image is managed by them, including in time a fake relationship with rising star Hux.  The story is told via an effective and clever multimedia approach - blog posts, texts, chat logs.

A Balanced Tribute by @cracktheglasses
E - 5k
Medieval AU; Rey weds Emperor Hux for the good of her land.  It’s a bit crowded in this marriage, though.  I could read 100k more of this tbh.

Ghosts, Witches, Monsters, Eldritch Horrors, Etc.

Honey, It Will Come Back by Flyting, @agoodflyting
T - 4,300
Pet Sematary on The Finalizer.  Very creepy.

Ghosts by Flyting, @agoodflyting
G - 1,800
As the author notes, ‘Obvious Plot Twist is Obvious’ - but wrenching nonetheless.

The Hanged Man by @that-vicious-vixen
E - 13,300
The Hux children meet a monster of a man who seems to have emerged from the forest behind their Savannah, GA home.  The eldest son gets involved despite his better judgement.  One tag: “I’m not super great at keeping things dark so it’s somehow violent and fluffy?”

List #2 
List #3 
List #4
List #5
List #6

On Calling Marvin Bisexual

So sometimes in reviews or summaries of Falsettos, Marvin will be identified as bisexual. Nowhere in the text is Marvin explicitly described as “bisexual” OR “gay”. Below, I spend 1500 words explaining my complex feelings around this.

TL;DR I don’t think Marvin is bisexual based on his characterization and how his relationships are described, but, as a bi person myself, I think it’s important not to assume that if someone has a gay relationship after a history of straight ones, they must be gay and their previous relationships were invalid.

So, can you say that Marvin is bisexual? Sure.
Does it make sense to call Marvin bisexual in the context of his character, the show, and the Marvin trilogy? I don’t think so, but I also don’t think it really matters. Also he’s fictional so it doesn’t matter, so why did I write so much fuck

The Essay:

Obviously, perpetuating the “if you have had straight relationships in the past as soon as you start a relationship with someone of another gender it means you’re now only attracted to that gender” idea is stupid. I want more stories where that’s not true, so having a bisexual Marvin would be awesome!

BUT it is also true that for some people, that is exactly what it means. Maybe they were trying to force themselves to be straight, or were in denial, or didn’t realize being gay was an option, or a million other things, and then finally were able to come to terms with being exclusively attracted to the same gender, and acted on it

And also there might be some cases in between, obviously, because I don’t think anyone’s sexuality or relationships are so simple, I mean insofar as gender is already a wishy washy subject, like who fricking knows, man? Labels are just to help us understand ourselves and communicate our traits & tendencies to others

My point is, if there’s a male character whose relationship history is:
(i.e. high school sweetheart, Trina, Trina, Whizzer)
there are still a million different things that might mean about his sexuality, depending on how he feels about those relationships and his sexuality

You can’t really say “oh he’s definitely gay and just was in the closet for a while” or “oh he’s definitely just bisexual” based on just relationship history. In real life, I would say that you can only make statements like that if the person tells you. In fiction, obviously, you can make more informed decisions also based on how their relationships are portrayed, how they feel about them, what the other characters say about them, what makes thematic sense, or, like Dumbledore, what the author says.

So let’s take our case of Marvin. I think we can safely assume that Marvin is, at the very least, sexually and romantically attracted to Whizzer. Now, the question moves to his relationship with Trina.

My first reaction to Marvin bisexuality is “obviously you’ve never heard The Nausea Before the Game” but it’s also fair because while we call it the Marvin trilogy, it doesn’t mean that the Marvin of In Trousers is entirely the same character in Falsettos. They are definitely characterized differently, I would say, which is even evident in that Alison was Trina in both IT and March, but Michael was brought in as Marv even though Chip obviously was available to reprise the role (though that might be because Chip is straight and they wanted someone queer, like Michael, to portray Marvin)

Anyway, in terms of Falsettos alone, I still think it’s evident that Marvin was not attracted to Trina the same way he was to Whizzer. Like, Trina didn’t even think he was, though that could have been based just on his relationship w/Whizzer. See: “Marvin was never mine, he took his meetings in the boy’s latrine” and “I only want to love a man who can love me” and “He told me how he loved me, how he needed and/or valued me” which always implied that he was trying to say the correct heterosexual thing to her

Also, a big clue, when Marvin’s talking to Mendel “Did she ever drive you wild? No. Never? No. Never? No no no” like I’m pretty sure that’s very explicitly saying he was never sexually attracted to Trina. Now, romantically? Harder to determine, but I’m pretty sure no. He definitely loves her, I mean they shared each other’s lives, and they continue to be, he talks her up to Mendel, etc.

I think it’s also important, thematically, for Marvin to have no romantic or sexual interest in Trina, because of the way he reacts to Mendel getting with her. Like, if he was at some point attracted to her or in love with her, it makes sense that he would be angry and jealous and generally upset, even though he divorced her. *But* if we assume he was never attracted to her, it becomes purely about the power thing, which is a consistent theme around his character, that he cares more about being perceived as powerful and desirable (you chose him to make me look bad), as well as being secure and cared for (I want a tight knit family, love me or break my heart, his obsession with being made food) than he does about others’ feelings, or even his own. I mean the man ostensibly broke up with his boyfriend because he beat him at chess.

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BODY ELECTRIC // masterlist

Request: Hey lovie 💕 I just wanted to say first that you’re an amazing writer and I LIVE for your stories. I was wondering if I could make a request for Kylo Ren? The reader is a force user like Kylo, but tries so hard not to show her powers because of fear that snoke will find her. So she works at like High End stripper club and that’s where Kylo finds her because someone tip him about her. I was greatly inspired by this song: Body Electric - Lana Del Rey Thank you 💕

A/N: This was a rather different request to write and I didn’t think I’d actually really like the outcome but ya know if there isn’t angst it can’t possibly be my writing. Thanks @decodexariel​ for the request, enjoy!

Warning: NSFW (?)

Word Count: 3.3K+

It was said that the world–universe–you now lived in was split between the good and the evil; the light and the dark. But there was that gray zone that was barely unheard of and hardly touched, not many falling under it as they were either chose to stand on either side or had no say in what they wanted. Then there were those Force users who had to stay hidden because a certain military organization claimed to had wiped them all out–no thanks to their commander and supreme leader.

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