i will sit here consumed with rage for the rest of the evening

Shameless - Theo Raeken

I am SO SORRY it took me this long to write this! I hope someone is still willing to read it.

Word count: 5000+

Warnings: SMUT!, unprotected sex.

Pairing: Theo/Fem!Reader

You hadn’t seen him in over a year.

The last memory you had of him was the expression on his face the moment he was dragged into the ground by his sister’s corpse, the last sound coming from his mouth was a desperate cry for help. Despite the fact that the two of you had a purely physical relationship, the truth about Theo Raeken’s intentions hurt you just like the hell he had been sent to, and it made you suffer more than you would have expected. You thought that watching him kill your brother, turn your friends against each other and torture your best friend would make you hate him more than you actually loved him – because, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you did love him -, but once again he proved you wrong. You knew he had tried to protect you from his own actions, but he couldn’t hide the truth about himself: he was selfish and dangerous, and you didn’t have room for sociopaths in your life.

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Obey (Jimin/Reader)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Prompt: OH GOD WEREWOLF JIMIN AU SMUTSMUTSMUT I’m trash for dominant werewolf Jimin + Can you please write a smut (werewolf! jimin and reader) where he goes into heat, and gets really horny/possessive with the reader? Thank you very much~

Genre: Smut - Werewolf!AU (In Heat)

Words: 2.1K+

Author: Admin Kaycie

Summary: Everyone has a bit of sadistic nature buried deep within the confines of their most intimate desires, a dark sensation that consumes the mind, body, and soul when the time is right. For Park Jimin, that animalistic desire was something that had cursed him since the day he first turned eighteen years old, a spark reigniting with each full moon. It devoured him whole, taking complete control of his body until he could quench the nearly insatiable thirst for dominance. 

Tags: Dom!Jimin, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sub!Reader, Orgasm Denial, Dirty Talk, etc. 

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Twenty things I’ve learned in Twenty Years

1. Life will break you down until you’re crawling on your hands and knees, until you feel like you are Atlas holding the world upon your shoulders, until you feel like the raging inferno inside of your chest is going to combust. These are the moments that will forge you in a fire and make you more unbreakable than diamonds.

2. We are made of stardust, at least that’s what they say. I remember someone told me that every atom in my body once belonged to a star that exploded. At night I stare at my hands and wonder when I will erupt. I know now that I cannot trust anyone else to keep me whole in the darkest hours of the night but my own two star infused arms.

3. You will fall in love, and that is okay. Sometimes we need to fall in love to remember that there is good out there. Fall in love with the boy who opens the door for you, fall in love with your boss who works too hard, fall in love with the woman who hands out roses on that one street corner, fall in love with yourself.

4. They weren’t lying when they said we accept the love we think we deserve. I grew up being told I was a mistake and so I adopted the idea that no one could ever love a mistake. I was wrong (they were wrong) and now it’s up to me to prove them wrong. Don’t believe the things they said, you are so much more than the toxins they tried to poison you with.

5. Close your eyes, count to ten, and open them again. You are not alone. I know it may feel like you are the only one, but believe me when I say that you aren’t. I was where you are, and now I have talked to more people that have been through much worse than I than I would like to admit to. You are never alone, not really.

6. Music can save. Play it as loud as you can with the windows down as you drive (probably a little too fast). Play it while you are at work and while you are in the shower and play it when you want to give up in the middle of the day and when you want to give up in the middle of the night. Just play the music that tugs at your heartstrings, it may save you.

7. Nothing in life is easy, not really. You will catch a few breaks here and there, but the rest of the time you will find yourself fighting tooth and nail to make it back to the top. Don’t give up, I almost did this year and if I had I wouldn’t be able to witness what the sun looks like shining in her eyes.

8. You will have scars, and that’s fine. We all have them but it’s up to you if you want to hide them or show your battle wounds to the world so they know how strong of a warrior you are, so they know not to fuck with you.

9. Watch the sunrise, and watch the sunset. There is something about the sun that screams life; let the light bleed into you and consume you until you shine with it. Sometimes it’s the simple things we are missing in life that we need the most.

10. They will say they love you and then they will turn around and break your heart. You cannot compare your life’s worth to the empty spaces that were once filled around you. People will leave (willing or not) and life will go on. Let life go on.

11. If you are under the impression you are broken, then it is up to you to decide if you are or not. It took me years to admit that I was never quite whole, but when I did it was the most freeing feeling ever. Brokenness does not take away from perfection, and you are the very definition of perfect.

12. It’s okay to let people in, you don’t need to cage yourself away from the rest of the world, don’t forget to live your life while you pursue safeness.

13. Hobbies will save you when all else fails you, find a hobby and stick to it. When the world feels all too loud, a hobby can make you go deaf.

14. The moment you realize Wonder Woman or any other superhero you idolized as a child is not going to swoop down and save you is when your life changes. You have to be your own hero in this world. Stop waiting for someone to save you and go save yourself.

15. They are gone, she took her own life and he died in a car crash and she died from cancer and he left. You cannot live your life counting how many people that held a piece of your heart vanished, I’m not saying to forget about them I’m just saying that it’s okay to say goodbye.  

16. It’s okay to cry; cry in the shower and in bed and in your car, being sad is okay as long as you don’t let it consume you.

17. Smile as much as you can even on the bad days.

18. For God’s sake, don’t let them ruin you. You are so strong, you’ve made it this far and that means you can make it another day. If you can get through today you can get through tomorrow and every day that follows. If you feel like you can’t get through the day then sit down and don’t move until the light is peaking in through your window.

19. Never say never. If you think you can’t do something try anyway, this is your life, you are the main character of your own story, but you are also the author of your story. Write it however you want, but don’t give up halfway through.

20. Just don’t take your life. While this is something I learned this year I’m also writing this as a reminder to myself and to you. Don’t do it, please. There can be more to life than what you are feeling right now, don’t rob yourself of the beauty of this world. Don’t give up, no matter how much it hurts.
—  An open letter to myself, and to you. (Sometimes I write until I run out of words) ALightLitInTheDark
andreil: baltimore

happy baltimore day! here’s my contribution to fandom on this beautiful day, the day neil josten is finally in the system to become a real person

“Thank you. You were amazing.”

The words echo in Andrew’s head as soon as they leave Neil’s mouth. He doesn’t say anything else, but Andrew can tell there’s something more he’s itching to get out. There’s something in his eyes, something in the way they flicker from the rest of the foxes to Andrew, that stops Andrew from pressing for more. This isn’t the place, not right now. Maybe on the bus. They have all the time in the world for answers. And Neil promised Andrew anything for shutting down the goal.

As they’re shepherded out and towards the bus, the chaos that surrounds the team jostles Andrew and he blindly follows the orange uniforms. He can’t look out for the others, for Neil, and he spares a moment to hope that they’re capable enough to survive one rowdy crowd. As long as Kevin makes it to the bus, it’ll be okay. Andrew isn’t responsible for anyone else’s safety. Neil isn’t under his protection anymore.  

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Constellations (M)

Summary: He was the president of one of the most notorious fraternities on campus. You had expected him to be the same as his other brothers – a sex-crazed, binge drinking maniac… But the truth ended up surprising you – in more ways than one.

Genre/Warnings: College!AU, Fratboy!Namjoon. It’s pretty much all fluff up until the smut part… Then my trash self happened and added some dirty talking and teasing, along with slightly rough sex. There’s also swearing.

Word Count: 10.7k. (is it too late now to say sorry?)

A/N: IT’S FINALLY DONE!!! I spent the whole fucking day writing this fic and it is now 2:30 A.M and I’m fucking exhausted. I love this fic so much, okay. It literally feels like I put my entire fucking soul into this (although that might just be the sleep talking lol) but I hope you guys like it!!!

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Gunshot (a sneak peek)

So… This was written way back in January (yikes), when I first started to write the mafia au fic 8 Days a Week and only @kawaiilo-ren and a couple other people have seen it. You might think you’ve seen it before, because Kait is a babe and she’s been drawing the amazing comic of this scene (and murdering me along the way). 

My plan was to keep this private until it was time to publish it on Ao3 but life is short and I actually like this. People will probably forget by the time it’s published there anyway, oops. 

Under the cut because it’s long. 

Hospital hall is looking cold and bleak under the fluorescent lights, like it did many hours ago. Yuri doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he left the building but coming back feels like returning from war, maybe. He doesn’t know what war feels like. It must be exhausting, if it resembles this even slightly. 

Ignoring his shaking hands is easy, as is turning a blind eye to his pulsating head ache. His body is crashing after riding through the adrenaline waves and he would kill for a nap; but that would make the list of things worth killing for longer and he isn’t sure if he is ready to deal with the paperwork. He isn’t ready to deal with anything yet, he just wants to return the weapon to its true owner and fall into a lifelong slumber.

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Shed Your Skin

Originally posted by kylogue

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

A/N: I am shamelessly in love with this story line, even though the writing may not be perfect and I’m really nervous about it. There is a part 2 already posted. This was always designed specifically to be multi-part, I’ll explain that more in the note on part 2. No spoilers.

P. S. This isn’t a Bughead fic by any means so I didn’t tag it as such (I’m sorry, guys), but the pairing is included in part

Summary: Being a newly inducted Serpent comes with unforseen benefits for Riverdale’s most poetic soul, like cool jackets and … personal bodyguards???

Word Count: 3,226

Warnings: gang activity, swearing, drug mentions, (Bughead angst, if that counts as a warning.)

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You Can’t Kill Him

Originally posted by inthenameofodin

Ivar x reader

Warnings: dubcon, blood, ownership, Season 5 Ivar owns your ass, brief shitty father/daughter relationships for the sake of the shitty, non-existent plot oops, smut smut smut!!

Words: 1,869

Tagging: @inthenameofodin (just blame her for this shit), @synnersaint (season 5 dominant Ivar time girl) @ivars-heathen (you seemed to like that season 5 Ivar post, sister, so heeeere you go) @whenimaunicorn (this might be right up your alley ;)) 

Notes: don’t get your hopes up, this is a mess, a hot, sexually frustrated for three days straight I just need to write a fuck load of hot smut out to get over it and maybe get revenge in the process, kind of mess. Enjoy!

“… Ivar the Boneless; you can’t kill him!” Your father, the King, had exclaimed with a hearty yet cold chuckle. Ivar the Boneless had become a common topic, whispered about the court recently; he had landed in your kingdom and the heathen was slowly destroying every one of your father’s armies, one by one.

Your father had long given up hopes of ever defeating the mad man now; his advisors were urging other plans upon him but the King had made up his mind. He wanted peace. You were disgusted by his decision to bend to the heathen’s will. Yet, what a man Ivar the Boneless must be; you can’t kill him; you wondered if that was true; you longed to find out.


Most of the fierce and repulsive warriors now sat in your father’s hall. Laughing, choking down as much food as they could get their filthy hands on and talking quite loudly over each other. They closely resembled wild animals. Ivar the Boneless though, had been seated next to you, for some ungodly reason and you sat frozen as he did nothing but let his threatening and hungry gaze continue to linger over your form.

You felt a hand roughly grab ahold of your thigh all of a sudden. You jumped and turned to face the heathen King that held up his goblet to toast you with an absolute, devilish smirk. He downed what was left in his cup and his hand began to move up your thigh and over your cunt. You instinctively grabbed the wandering hand to halt it entirely. His eyes grew dark; actually warning you to let him continue groping you. He leaned in close, his imposing figure looming over you now; you felt disgusted with yourself as your body greatly longed for him to continue touching you like this. Him, Ivar the Boneless, the famous, fearless and fear-mongering heathen and calculating commander. He also happened to be very pleasant to look upon. You released his hand then, wondering exactly how he had the audacity to feel up the King’s daughter right in front of him. You didn’t linger on the thought too much longer as you shamelessly sat back and basked in the pleasure Ivar was secretly and very inappropriately providing for you under the table. He continued to touch you, like he owned you, as well as the whole world.

You tried to conceal it, but you couldn’t halt your gasps and moans as he continued to expertly explore your cunt with his fingers. Your head was thrown back as he continued to take you to your absolute peak. Never taking his eyes off of you all the while. Many people of the court began to look your way as you caused a scene with your squirming and your small noises of pleasure. They would all know. Yet, you cared no longer. The only thing that mattered right now, was his fingers moving inside of you and his dark eyes never leaving you.


You now sat, with your wrists bound and Ivar’s hands forcibly feeling up every inch of you behind the thin fabric of your dress while seated next to you on the sickening, rocking boat. Your father, the treacherous bastard, had sold you like a dog to the arrogant and sadistic heathen and in exchange, the Boneless had agreed to leave your kingdom once and for all, taking you with him.

Now on the boat, sailing away from your home; Ivar made it very clear to all the beastly men around him watching, who exactly you belonged to now. “You are my slave now. Squirm under my touch all you want, pet, I can freely explore every inch of you and there is no one here to stop it. You belong to Ivar the Boneless, now.” He moaned ever so slightly through his words at the thought and then chuckled darkly as he let his head lazily rest on your shoulder, very close to your neck. His hot breaths on the sensitive flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

The rage you had for him was unbearable. The lust was even more mind dulling. He owned you now it was true, but you were going to put up a fight nevertheless.


“Why don’t you crawl between my legs, on your hands and knees pet, and keep my cock nice and warm!” The Boneless had commanded his slave quite loudly then as his surrounding warriors laughed and cheered at your continued, public debasement. He had made you sit on the floor, at his feet during the feast, which had been humiliating enough. But, now he was really pushing it. You shook her head vigorously in response. He frowned. “You are no longer a Princess. You are nothing here. You are simply, Ivar the Boneless’s little fuck toy! Now behave as such!” He announced gleefully while lightly patting his hardening cock suggestively under the fabric of his pants. He had announced it loud enough so all of the surrounding animals could cheer in agreement; encouraging their wretched King.

“Don’t make me tire of you so quickly.” He warned then. You swallowed and threw away whatever small piece of dignity you had left as you began slowly crawling towards the bulge in his pants. He growled as his lust consumed him and he grabbed a tight hold of your hair as he undid himself. He forced his cock down your throat, making you gag while tears began to form in your eyes. “Well? Go ahead.” He urged you to begin sucking. You obeyed as your breaths grew heavy. He moaned and threw his head back, smiling sadistically. You felt another harsh tug in your hair as he forced your head up too look at him; his cock still filled your mouth. “Don’t forget to swallow, pet, it should be such an honor for a simple slave such as yourself to receive your King’s cum, to swallow down your pitiful throat!”


He had made sure you had traveled with him back to England so he could fuck you senseless, like a wild animal after every battle. The opposing army had snuck up on his late one night. You sat, bound to a thin, wooden pole in his tent. Completely naked and longing for his return and touch once again. What had happened to you? You watched him from a distance, through the opening in the tent, as he dominated the makeshift battlefield completely, not far from his camp. As if it were all a simple game of chess that he excelled at greatly. No one could beat him; no one could kill him. He had screamed just as much to the opposing army as he recklessly raced around in the chariot. “Do you know who I am?! I am Ivar the Boneless! You can’t kill me!”

When he found you after the short battle; blood drenched and crazed looking once again, you began to shake in anticipation for what was about to happen.

He crawled towards you, growling like an animal; making inhuman noises. He reeked of death, blood and sweat. He unbounded you and forced you onto your stomach below him. His large body settled above you and held you down. His still bloodied hand grabbed ahold of your throat and he leant down to breathlessly whisper in your ear. “You will serve me now, bitch or I will happily gut you like I did all of your christian friends.” You didn’t doubt it for a second. The battle had worked the sick bastard up; the arousal and adrenaline from it  possessing him completely as he continued to posses you.

He undid his belt and pushed himself inside you rather quickly. He grunted and growled while the immense force of his thrusts drove you into the hard ground and made your eyes roll back into your head. You felt something cold at your neck all of a sudden making your eyes open back up. His favorite dagger was pressed up against your throat; covered in the blood of your countrymen. “You’re mine, slave. Say it.” He pressed the blade even more firmly against your throat then. “Say it!” You began to try and form words as he continued to fuck you. “I-I am yours!” He growled again before stopping abruptly, tossing the blade to the side and effortlessly flipping you over onto your back in one, quick motion. One hand restraining both of your wrists while the other grabbed ahold of your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He actually spat into your open mouth then before placing his large hand over your lips. “Your King just honored you again, slave, swallow it down. Yet, you don’t fucking deserve it.” You shut your eyes tight as you obeyed and swallowed his saliva down. His words hurt; why did you not deserve it? Why did you care? Why weren’t you attempting to reach for his discarded dagger to drive it into his throat? He removed his palm from your lips to allow you to speak. “Say, ‘thank you, King Ivar.’” You echoed his words and he nodded slightly in approval. “Good girl.” You pathetically lit up at the praising words.

“Now, say it properly. Who do you belong to, bitch?” You opened your mouth to speak again. “King Ivar.” He roughly grabbed your jaw and suddenly spat into your mouth, once again. His eyes only becoming more wild. He placed his palm over your mouth and commanded: “Swallow it and then when you’re done, say it fucking properly!” He sounded more and more impatient and even more dangerous and threatening than usual. You obeyed. “I-I belong to King Ivar!” You stuttered out as you gazed up at his fiery and dominating eyes and his strong form holding you down.

He rolled those same eyes before grabbing ahold of your jaw and repeating the process. You gagged now as he spat into your mouth for a third time. “Say it like you actually mean it, slave!” You forced his spit down again and spoke. “I belong to King Ivar! I belong to you! I belong to Ivar the Boneless!” He smiled sardonically in approval before moving to palm your dripping cunt that was still penetrated by his cock. He slowly continued to move inside of you. “Mhm, this cunt belongs to me. This cunt belongs to Ivar the Boneless!” He leant down and took your mouth in a rough kiss as he began pick up the pace and fuck you into the ground again.


You sat at his feet, by his great throne after yet another victory and hard fucking. He rested his hand atop your head, reminding you who you belonged to. Always longing to remind you. No one could kill him. No one could set you free. You belonged to Ivar the Boneless. All hope of escaping and reclaiming your title as Princess had gone out the window as you continued to watch the mad man conquer everything. Yet, you felt overly relieved not to be Ivar’s enemy. You maybe even almost felt a little proud now, that you were stuck as his special, little fuck toy. His pet. His slave. His.

anonymous asked:

RFA finding out MC was raped? sorry if it's too much for you..

It is not, my angsty friend. It is not.

Alright, buckle up my guy this is going to be a long one.

~~Sensitive material pls don’t read if this will trigger you!~~


  • Feels legitimately sick
  • Starts crying and holds you close
  • “How can this world…be so cruel?”
  • You’ve never seen him get this angry before, but he throws his gaming mouse and it smashes to pieces against the wall.
  • Throws his hoodie on and heads out the door. He realizes he’s frightened you and he needs to take a walk to calm down.
  • He feels like punching every man he see’s into a pulp. Any one of them could be…
  • Throws up in the nearest trash can at the thought
  • Right now he hates the world
  • He knows it happened before you met, but he hates himself for not being there to protect you.
  • Finds himself sitting alone at the park, crying.
  • He’s glad you’re not there to see him like this
  • Oh, right…
  • “I’m being kind of a selfish douche right now, aren’t I?”
  • He realizes, admitting it out loud to himself
  • You have to be feeling 100 times worse than him, and he left because he couldn’t control his emotions…
  • Show back up at apartment, a giant bouquet of roses in hand
  • “MC, I’m so sorry. There’s…no excuse for my actions! I’m here for you now. And I’ll protect you from now on. For the rest of our lives. No one will ever touch you again. I swear it.”


  • Jumin Han.
  • Is.
  • Pissed.
  • If you had x-ray vision you would literally see his blood boiling
  • But this guy has subtlety down to a fucking science
  • He seems so calm and collected and listens to you tell him everything that happened with a straight face
  • His hands are gently placed on your own and his eyes don’t stray from your gaze
  • The next few days he is extra caring, extra gentle, extra kind.
  • You feel so relieved to have told him
  • And his warmth, his soft response towards you after learning the truth was all you needed
  • But Jumin Han does not forget.
  • Jumin Han does not forgive.
  • Not what this prick has done to you.
  • Behind your back, he reaches out to someone.
    • “Saeyoung, I need your help.”
    • “Oookay?…With what? It’s got to be interesting if someone with your resources is coming to me.”
    • “I need you to be 707 again. Just for one more job. And I need it to be strictly between us. You’ll understand after I explain everything.”
  • With his money and Saeyoungs help it didn’t take long to locate them and put the plan in place
  • ‘707′ located a small, uninhabited and remote island far at sea
  • All Jumin needed to do was give the men his order
  • Less than a week went by before his phone buzzed in his hand
  • “Hm?”
  • An unknown contact
  • A photo of a man; battered and bruised, lying on the shore with sand in his wounds. The hands that had touched you had been burned.
  • Jumin smiled
    • “What is it, Jumin? A cat photo?! Let me see!”
    • “No, MC. Just something for work,” he glanced up from his screen. “Oh no no…this won’t do. Those heels are all wrong for that dress. They aren’t elegant enough for your legs. Let’s go buy you some new ones that are more fitting.”
  • He glanced at the phone once more
  • [DELETE]

◉ Zen

  • He wanted to drink and smoke until he was numb
  • He wanted to throw you on his bike behind him and ride away to somewhere remote and safe
  • He wished he could travel in time. Lock you in some distant tower like the princess you were, and protect you with his life
  • But life was not like a fairy tale and reality never hit him so hard
  • He felt your smooth touch on the back on his hand and looking down, realized his knuckles were white from the clenching of his fists.
  • He wanted so badly to kick the shit out of that asshole…whoever they were.
  • But that might mean the end of his career, maybe even jail time? And how would he protect you then?
  • His head was swimming with thoughts
  • That whole night, and for the next few days he was stuck to you like glue.
  • He looked like hell
  • He couldn’t sleep
  • He lay awake clutching at your frame and listening to your breathing
  • He told his agent he was sick in order to get some time off to watch over you
  • He never felt so small and helpless before
  • Looking over his piles of fan letters, he tried to regain some sense of self when he realized
  • He wasn’t powerless
  • All of these people looked up to him
  • They watched what he did, bought what he advertised.
  • If he couldn’t turn back time and keep this from happening to you…well maybe he could use his fame to keep this from happening to other people
  • He dialed his agent at once to put a plan in place
  • Hyun Ryu would be the face and spokesperson for a new campaign against sexual assault.

◉ Jaehee

  • She tried to control herself but you could see the coffee cup in her hand shaking
  • She had a lump in her throat
  • “Thank you for telling me, MC. I…I don’t know what to say.”
  • It was hard for her to organize her thoughts. How could anyone have hurt this person. The person she loved so much, who brought so much light and peace to her life.
  • As much as she tried to suppress it, she felt the tears welling in her eyes and quickly wiped them away
  • She didn’t want to be a mess in front of you
  •  Jaehee cleared her throat, placed her coffee cup on the table, and grabbed your hands into hers.
  • “Can we take this to court? Can we take some legal action against this person? I don’t care what it takes, but they won’t get away with this damn it.”


  • He thought his stomach would drop through the floor
  • He felt like every nerve ending had been set on fire
  • You were laying on his chest on the bed that night, fast asleep.
  • Saeyoung ran his long fingers through your fragrant hair until the dawn poured through the window. His sleeve was soaked with the tears he quietly shed in the night as he looked at your peaceful sleeping face
  • Days went by
  • And an anger that began as a small match in his heart now felt like a raging fire which consumed him
  • Every chance he got, he was researching and researching
  • Why hadn’t you just told him who did this to you?
  • Well, he knew why
  • But why…
  • Maybe it was for the best
  • He had his own way of finding out
  • It took longer than he’d like to admit
  • He was rusty as hell
  • He searched police reports and newspapers, searched social media profiles
  • Finally he found them
  • “MC, I’ll be leaving in 2 days…another toy convention for the shop. I wish I didn’t have to leave you.”
  • He kissed your forehead
  • He used his special agent skills to locate the targets house and figure out when they would be alone
  • When they answered the door they were greeted by a powerful fist colliding with their nose full force
  • “That’s for MC, you fucking son of a bitch”
  • He grabbed them by their collar and lifted them up off the ground, raising his fist once more 
  • “And these next ones are for every year, every second she’s had to live with the thought of your disgusting hands on her. You’re lucky I don’t break every one of your fingers.”
  • He made a point to spit on the limp body before walking away, his phone buzzing in his pocket
  • “MC…”
  • He needed to come up with an excuse for his bruised knuckles before coming home…
You’re My Alpha

Anon asked: can you make a theo raeken imagine/smut where the reader starts to hate the pack because since theo came back to town the pack told her to stay away from him/ are overprotecting asf but she finds theo attractive and theo convinces her to go against the pack & she become bad & they become the badass couple of beacon hills - I’m sorry for my english but hope you understood & I also love your page

Word count: 2459

Warning: Contains smut, blood, little bit of violence.

Pairing: Theo x Reader

A/N: Wow I had inspiration for this one! Hope you like it and thanks for the request!

The pack had warned me. I had been warned on numerous occasions, I couldn’t come near him. I didn’t have the right to be in his presence. He was dangerous, a threat, and I was in danger.

They were repeating it a lot and at the beginning I listened to them. I avoided being in the presence of the threat as best I could. I was doing my best. But I couldn’t chase away the emotions that roamed my body when I saw him, when I thought about him, his face, his eyes, his lips, imagining his hands on my body…

Theo Raeken.

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Hero: Prologue (M)

Author’s Note: This is literally my first ever foray into the fan-fiction side of this fandom. It’s been quite exciting!  Song for this chapter: Dozo (Guns For Hire Mix) - Puscifer

Genre: Vampire!Chanyeol AU; suspense; thriller; romance; eventual smut

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female)

Synopsis: The sire of one of the largest, most powerful covens and a human woman find themselves forced to trust one another as they attempt to survive an impending outbreak of war.

Rating: M - mature 

Warnings (this chapter): graphic violence; swearing; references to drug/blood trafficking

Word Count (this chapter): 1.4K

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11a | 11b

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please don’t (L.L)

a/n: is this bad? i feel like this is bad. the gif is mine, if u want to use it you DONT need to give credit :))

who?: loki lmao

summary: your life in exchange for the tesseract, based off of the IW trailer

The light faded from around you as you felt yourself slip between consciousness and unconsciousness. Thanos’ towering figure hung above you before you hit the ground.

Loki brushed his hair back before stepping towards his old ally. Once they stood together, both hoping to control the nine realms yet Loki now stood in front of him, preparing to fight. Thanos had requested Loki, and only Loki, to join him on his planet.

“Well hello my old friend,” Thanos’ maniacal voice echoed through empty space, “I need you to retrieve something for me.” “And why would I do that?” Thankfully Loki was the God of Mischief otherwise it would have been obvious how terrified he was. You had been missing for hours, Thor tried to console him, telling him you must have been caught up in the fight with Thanos’ minions. So between you practically disappearing and the looming threat of the nine realms being taken over by the ‘Mad Titan’ he was quite the nervous wreck. “Oh how pleased I am that you asked,” a smug expression engraved onto his face.

“You see I have something that you’re missing.” It was like a switch being flipped, Loki’s face twisted while a uncontrollable rage poured into his body. “If you dare hurt her I’ll-“ “You’ll what?” Thanos mocked. Both knew that Loki couldn’t harm Thanos alone. “Where is she?” Loki could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest, his blood boiling with each second that passed. This is what he was most afraid of. This is why he didn’t want to let you close to him. He had so many enemies who would do anything to hurt him and you were his biggest weakness. “Not so fast, I need you to agree to this task before I can even show you her.” “Fine, I’ll do it.” Loki spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet!” “I said I’ll do it!” He screamed, his patience growing thin. He needed to know you were safe. Worry flooded his mind as he thought of the countless possibilities of what could have happened to you. “You petty, petty fool,” Thanos cackled, “look at what a mere mortal has done to you.” “What is this task you need me to complete?” “I require the tesseract.”

Of course he did. It seemed obvious that he would need Loki to retrieve it. After all, Loki had hidden it and it would waste precious time if Thanos looked for it himself. What could Loki do though? If he handed it over everyone would be wiped out anyway. He knew that you would rather sacrifice yourself than have the whole of the universe destroyed. But he couldn’t just let you die when you had done so much for him. “I know what you’re thinking,” Thanos snapped Loki out of his thoughts, “I’ll promise you, her and your brother safety in return.” “And the rest of the Asgardians.” Loki demanded, they were his people too, no matter if he was from Jotenheim or not. “You’re an ungrateful man Loki Laufeyson.” “Me, her, Thor and the remaining Asgardians,” he reiterated. “Very well.”

Your seemingly lifeless body was cast down at Loki’s feet. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him, “is she-“ “What, dead?” Thanos chuckled, “not yet.” Loki wanted to pick you up and run. He wanted to get as far away from here as possible. His hands shook as he pushed the hair from your face. “I don’t know if you can hear me but I-I promise I’ll fix this, I’ll make sure we’re safe,” Loki’s voice wavered with every word spoken. Within seconds you had vanished from his arms causing anger to ripple through him once again. Loki stood, his frustration fuelling his motivation to kill Thanos. Maybe he could get Thor to help save you. Then he wouldn’t have to hand over the tesseract. “No one must know about this,” Thanos added as he walked towards his throne, “now leave!”

You woke up on the rocky, barren ground. Coldness crept over your body as the frost grew towards you. The unclarity of this situation distracted you from remembering what just happened. Your last memory being Thanos walking towards you, however, Loki’s voice rang through your ears. His exact words remained unknown yet the despair in his voice haunted you. Your legs shook as you stood, a nauseous feeling swirling in your stomach. Craters and rocks stretched for miles while the air seemed to minimise with every breath you took. There was no escape, no way off of the planet. Did anyone even know where you were? Loki was bound to know you were missing by now. But how long had you even been here for? You wrapped your arms around yourself before cautiously walking towards a crater. Sitting and waiting seemed impossible. It felt like you had walked for miles before a flash of blue consumed you. Your body hit the ground as you fell back into unconsciousness.

The tesseract was the only thing standing between you and Loki. Thanos had sent for Loki, expecting the tesseract to follow. Yet Loki remained uncertain of handing it over. You had helped him become a different person. Your purity and goodness radiated from you, changing Loki from the moment you met. He couldn’t risk causing the universe’s demise just to save the two of you. He was certain you would hate him to put you above every human, creature or god. As long as he didn’t see you he would be able to go through with this. Then again he really did love you more than anything. You were the only thing he needed to protect and what good would it be if he stood by and allowed you to die?

Thanos stepped into the light. “Well,” his voice echoed around the room, “I trust that you brought it, just as I brought this.” A pale blue light appeared in front of Loki before vanishing. Your curled up body left in the middle. The fog in your mind began to lift as you opened your eyes. “Oh thank god,” you sighed while reaching up to Loki. His arms tightened around your waist, trying to pull you as close to him as he could. “Your not hurt are you?” Loki mumbled into your hair, “he didn’t harm you?” Before you could answer your body was ripped from his by one of the Black Order, yet you couldn’t see who. Thanos howled with laughter, “you didn’t think I would be so stupid as to give you her without receiving the tesseract?” “Loki please tell me you aren’t giving him it,” you begged. After all this time, had he even changed? “I’m doing it for you!” he exclaimed, “or he was going to murder you.” “I would much rather have that than him be closer to controlling the realms!” The thought of your life being prioritised over everybody else’s made you feel sick. It was your life in exchange for billions upon billions and that could simply not happen. “Loki I swear if you hand that over I won’t speak to you again, I can’t have this on my conscience forever.” “Times ticking,” Thanos murmured as began to walk towards you. “I need to y/n, I can’t let you die after everything you’ve done for me,” his voice became desperate, “you’re my everything.” “Oh how hopelessly romantic,” Thanos stood in front of you, reaching down to pick you up. Your body appeared to shrink as he held you, “okay, this really is your last chance Loki.” Trembling, he reached out one hand. The deep blue of the tesseract illuminated the chamber.

Fear consumed Loki as he took a step towards Thanos, he knew this was the best thing to do. At least you would be safe. It didn’t matter if you never so much as looked at him, you were safe. “Loki please don’t,” you writhed hopelessly. He simply shook his head but it was obvious he was mortified. His eyes were masked with guilt and terror. Waves of panic crept up on him with every step he took. He began to doubt his every thought, question his every movement. “Just stop Loki,” you pleaded but you knew it was no use. Thanos’ grip grew tighter, his patience dwindling. Your lungs compressed making it hard to breath, it didn’t take long before you were gasping for air. This was all Loki needed to solidify his agreement.

The tesseract was placed into Thanos’ other hand. His face embraced a wide grin as Thanos’ wild laugh crept through you. “What a foolish, stupid man, all of this for a human.” Thanos lay you down at Loki’s feet, “but I stay true to my words so bring your brother and the Asgardians to the third planet to the left and I’ll grant you a safe haven.” Loki picked you up, your body limp as you tried to gain as much oxygen as possible. You wanted to fight against him, disgusted at what he had done, but you were too fragile to move. The constant teleporting and blackouts had wore you thin. He turned to walk away while he kept you pressed to his chest. Loki whispered something about never letting you out of his sight before he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

if you’re bleeding from the heart

words: 8.6k

pairings: none

summary: Keith’s impulsiveness has never had dire consequences before—at least not ones that affect anybody but him. 

So when a split-second decision changes one of his teammate’s lives, he doesn’t know what to do. 


Keith had heard Shiro yelling in his earpiece. He heard Lance and Allura and Pidge and Hunk, too. But he didn’t listen. That’s nothing new. He usually doesn’t.

Shiro’s told him before that he needs to think more before he acts. Instincts are good, and it’s important to rely on them, but you have to use to your head too. He’d kind of written off those lectures, filed them away in the back of his mind. His instincts had never steered him wrong before. And isn’t the Red Lion’s pilot supposed to rely on them? Isn’t he supposed to be impulsive? He’d always thought so.

He’d always thought so.

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little-fettuccine  asked:

Okay, so I just read your request where Reinhardt's s/o is reported as a casualty but they end up coming back alive and he proposes! I’m shook! Can we get the same for Soldier 76 and Hanzo?! ❤️

Soldier: 76 (IDK why but I wanted to do Strike Commander, so that’s the timeline we’re working with here!) AO3 Link Here!

When Ana tells him the news he laughs. There’s literally no way you’re dead. No way.He trained you himself and he knows he’s a damn good teacher. You can’t be dead. You can’t be.

But then you don’t come back. One day. Two, and the laughter starts to ring hollow in his ears. He tells Ana it isn’t funny anymore and asks where you are. And she gives him this look that she means sympathetically but all he sees is pity. And he hates it.

You’re dead. Gone and there’s nothing he can do to bring you back. He should be used to casualties by now, it’s a part of every soldier’s life whether they like it or not. But it’s you. With your bright smiles and all too eager salutes. You hadn’t seen the worst the world had to offer yet, and he wanted to shelter you from that for as long as he could. He wanted to protect you. And he failed.

He breaks down in front of his two best friends. Gabriel and Ana try their best to console him but their voices sound like white noise, like a thousand wasps buzzing inside his head. Neither of them can help him get his breathing under control, and black spots start to encroach on his vision, and the last thing he remembers is saying your name.

After that he pretends to be alright in front of the other agents and even in front of Gabe and Ana, even if they can still see he’s not okay, neither of them bring it up, letting him grieve on his own. He doesn’t sleep, keeps working like a zombie at his desk, doing paperwork. Then he checks in on the new recruits, stops by the training hall, says hello to those he passes with a smile anyone can see is fake. He grabs lunch and lets it go cold and uneaten. Rinse and repeat for five more days.

His friends are about to corner him and get him to talk, to sleep or eat or something. But before they can put their plan into action a miracle happens. You come stumbling back into base, covered in dirt and bruises. When you pass by Ana and Gabe on your way to find your Commander they stare at you with wide eyes. You look dead on your feet. But not dead and that’s what’s important.You don’t even acknowledge their presences, just shuffle by them, eyes staring determinedly ahead as you near Jack’s office.

When the door creaks open he already has an excuse and a platitude on his tongue, but they both die the moment he sees you. Your hair is matted with blood, your clothes torn and the way you’re breathing makes him think you might’ve broken a rib. He makes these assessments even as he scrambles up and out of his chair, rounding the desk to meet you halfway as you stumble, knees quaking, into his arms.

Being back where you’re supposed to be seems to breathe more life into you. You blink away the sting in your eyes and give a tired smirk, “Reporting for duty, sir.” you mumble, leaning almost your entire body weight on him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He laughs, and it sounds strangled and wet, “You’re late, soldier.” he teases, his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

You pull away from him and try for a beaming smile only to notice the bags under his eyes. “You look like hell, Jack.” you scold with a frown, thumbs sweeping away the tears under his lashes.

You’re met with a snort and a roll of his blue eyes, “You looked in the mirror lately?” he shoots back. 

You feel your lips quirk at the corners, “Actually, no, I haven’t looked in a mirror lately. I’ve been a little busy trying to get back home to you.” 

His eyes soften at that as he squeezes you lightly, pressing his forehead to yours. The peace only lasts a moment before he pulls away, inhaling deeply and you already know that this is no longer Jack, it’s Commander Morrison. “Get to the infirmary. Have Ziegler look you over.” You nod, tiredly, repressing  sigh. “And don’t bother reporting in for the next few days.” he says harshly, though you both know he means it in the opposite sense.

“Yes, Commander.” you say, with a hint of exasperation, but he lets it go, passing it off as exhaustion. 

Once you’re gone Jack flops down into his chair, dragging his hands down his face and begins to laugh hysterically. Gabriel and Ana pop their heads into his office and watch him with half-amused and half-worried expressions. When Jack’s laughter has calmed Gabe looks directly at Ana and says “Told you he’d lose it when he saw. You owe me twenty bucks.” Gabe smirks and Ana rolls her eyes, but Jack pays neither of them any mind. You’re back. You’re safe, the rest of the world could just melt away for all he cared right now.

Jack comes to visit you in the infirmary where Dr. Ziegler is keeping you overnight for observation. You have two broken ribs and a probable concussion so someone has to monitor you. The Strike Commander volunteers. “Isn’t this considered favoritism?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes and leans over you, pressing you back into the uncomfortable hospital bed. “I can show you favoritism if you want.” he smirks, enjoying the flush painting your cheeks. He laughs and steals a kiss from you while you are still stunned, then sits in the chair beside your bed.

You glare at him. More in embarrassment than actual anger. Suddenly you remember something and you bite your lip as you look away from him. “Jack…I almost died.” you murmur, so quietly he could’ve easily missed it.

He’s quiet for so long that you start to think he really didn’t hear you. “Yeah.” is all he says, staring down at his hands with a furrowed brow. 

“I’m so sorry.” his head snaps up. “I didn’t mean to make you worry, I swear I was fighting the whole time to get back to you, I just–” he hops up and steals the rest of the words from your lips. You’re glad for it, as you might have started crying if you had kept rambling. 

You melt into him, gripping the front of his shirt to keep him close. When he pulls away he only breathes two words. “Marry me.” It’s a question phrased like a command. A command from the Commander. One you’re all too happy to follow.

A smile tugs at your lips and you say what any good soldier would say to a command from their commanding officer, “Yes, sir.”

Hanzo (AO3 Link Here!)

He sees it happen. One moment you’re standing there in front of the warehouse where you’ve just taken down the night’s enemies, grinning at him, waving him over. You’re covered in sweat and bruises but you’re alive. And the next moment, in the blink of an eye, the building behind you erupts into a mass of fire and death. It happened so fast that he doesn’t even see where you land. Where your body lands. No one could have survived standing so close to an explosion like that.

Perhaps rage should have taken over. Perhaps he should have seen red and starting firing blindly at whoever was the cause of the explosion. But instead he focused his anger into cold calculation. Hunting down the man who blew up the warehouse was easy, he was sprinting away in the opposite direction, not even bothering to try and be stealthy about it. Shooting him down and maiming him was even easier, Hanzo is a master archer, his arrow always finds its mark. Which means he could have gone for a kill shot right off the bat. But he didn’t.

Killing the man who killed you will not bring you back, but it will give him some sort of sick satisfaction. As his prey begins to crawl away, whimpering and pleading for its life he eyes it critically. What manner of death will cause the most pain and suffering? He fingers the dagger at his belt and freezes. You gave him that, as a gift. He refused to use a sword again, but he needed some sort of blade for close combat so you compromised and got him a dagger. A plain thing, but his name was etched on the side in your messy and somewhat inaccurate kanji.

He has no illusions that you would be disappointed in him for torturing someone to death. Only that he tortured himself while doing it. You’ve been trying to teach him to accept things as they are and move on. He can’t do that if he’s deliberately keeping someone alive just to take pleasure in their pain. Not this man, at the least. The man’s broken whimpers drag him from his thoughts rudely and he glares at him for half a heartbeat. With a heavy sigh Hanzo steps forward, grabs the man by his hair and cleanly and quickly slits his throat. Easy? Yes. Satisfying? Only slightly, but he tells himself he’ll have to accept it and move on.

He stands over the man’s lifeless form for several long moments. Trying to ignore the burning blaze at his back. If he turns around he’ll only be consumed by hatred and rage again, thinking about you would only hurt him. So he tried not to feel. It was easier that way, it was-

“Mooooottherrrr fucker that hurt.” His head snaps up and he turns without a second thought. And there you are: now not only covered in sweat and bruises but ash, with a gash across your forehead that probably looks worse than it is. He wants to say something, wants to run to you and hold you in his arms but the shock of seeing you standing there, very much alive, has rendered him immobile. “Ahh, man, and you already killed the fucker who did it.” you sigh, gesturing vaguely to the body just behind him. Then you look up at Hanzo’s face and tilt your head in confusion. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You frown at him as you close the distance between you and check him over for injury. Finding none your frown deepens, unaware that you’re the ghost he’s seen.

“What- How- I saw-” No matter how many times he starts the sentence he can’t finish it. Too many words wanting to rush out all at once and he’s annoyed that none of them make sense in that order. You raise your eyebrows at him with each stuttered sentence, waiting for him to collect his thoughts and try again. He inhales deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. When he opens them again he can think and speak clearly, but he’s still overcome with emotion. “I saw the explosion, I thought you were close enough to-” he stops himself before he finishes that thought.

But you seem to get it anyway, “You thought I died?” you gasp, eyes widening in realization. He nods solemnly, fists clenching at his sides and looking away from you. He’s angry. Angry that he almost lost himself when he thought he lost you. Angry that even realizing he would break if you died seeing you in front of him now he couldn’t just act on his feelings. Angry that– You rip him from his thoughts by throwing your arms around his neck, burying the clean side of your face into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize you might’ve thought…I hit the deck, right before.” You say by way of explanation, pulling back and pouting as you continue. “Obviously not fast enough to avoid getting hit by debris but…” you trail off, sullenly indicating the gash on your forehead.

With you alive and in his arms he seems to come back to himself somewhat, tilting your head to inspect your wound. “It’s not bad, but it’ll need a stitch or two.” he states plainly. You click your tongue in annoyance. He knows you hate stitches because “they itch and I always forget they’re there.” The memory brings a smile to his face. And the thought that he still gets to make more memories with you, still gets to stitch your wounds, is enough for him. Easy, with you? Never. Satisfying? More than anything.

An hour later he’s cleaning and stitching your wound while you pout and try to sit still while the needle passes through your flesh. You’ve been staring at him very pensively for the past five minutes, a far cry from your squirmy fidgeting the previous times he’s stitched you up. When he’s done he starts to put away the med kit the two of you keep, “Hanzo.” you say, to get his attention. He grunts in acknowledgement, but otherwise continues cleaning up. “We should get married.” 

He stops moving immediately and turns his head to look at you, sure he misheard you. But no, you’re sitting there, staring him down, looking as serious as he’s ever seen you. And oddly, he’s not actually surprised at the question itself. Just that you were the one to ask him. He’d be lying if he said he had never considered asking you. He thinks for a moment, hands absentmindedly stowing away the med kit. When he sits back down opposite you, you are still staring at him. He tilts his head, shrugs and says “Okay.”


by ultimatebellarke

Clarke doesn’t know what surprises her more: the fact that she is still alive, or that Bellamy’s face is looming over her. 

Last she remembers, she was put under a chamber, about to be exposed to critical levels of radiation. Bellamy Blake was definitely nowhere in the equation. Yet somehow, she is not dead, and Bellamy is standing before her. 

Is she even awake? 

Clarke isn’t entirely sure—until the burning begins. Flames blisters her middles, her insides, her limbs, and she cries out. The radiation poisoning. Its heat is consuming her. 

Above her, Bellamy has turned a distinct shade of white. “Hold on, I’m getting Abby—” 

“No.” Her voice is hoarse with disuse. She grits her teeth, waiting for the rush of pain to ebb. “Don’t.” 

Bellamy stares at her as if she is insane. “You need your mother.” 

Clarke shakes her head. She knows what will happen the moment her mother arrives in the room. The only treatment for the pain of radiation sickness. “Sedation,” Clarke gasps. Back to unconsciousness, and she has just caught sight of Bellamy Blake. She can’t face another goodbye. 

Bellamy’s jaw clenches. He understands. Of course he does. His shoulders droop—in relief or defeat, she doesn’t know—and he bends down at the side of her bed. Clarke is too weak to sit up, so she rolls her head to look at Bellamy. Really look at him, after so many days have passed. She drinks in his eyes, his limbs, thanking God that he is alive. 

It takes her a moment to feel his rage. It’s latent, quiet, but she feels it simmering in the air between them. He is angry at her, and Clarke knows very well as to why. The cause is streaming through her veins, blazing away at her insides. 

She doesn’t know how to remove the venom in her blood, and she sure as hell can’t eliminate it from Bellamy’s eyes. Screw it. She’s conscious, now. She might as well spend it looking at Bellamy Blake. 

It’s been entirely too long since she’s seen his speckled skin, the dent on his upper lip. Her eyes land on the smudges under his eyes. They’re darker than usual. She frowns. “When did you last sleep?” 

The bitterness in his eyes fade momentarily, converting to something Clarke can’t quite place. “Not too long,” he says. 

Clarke refrains from rolling her eyes. He is a very bad liar. “How long, Bellamy?” 

“Three days”, he mumbles. 

A strangled sigh leaves Clarke. This boy has been awake for days, and here she is, lost in oblivion for who knows how long— “How long have I been asleep?” 

“Three days.” 

Clarke’s throat is suddenly dry. Bellamy blinks, and the fire returns to his eyes. 

“I had to,” Clarke says, because she knows what he’s thinking. 

Bellamy says, “You almost died, Clarke.” 

The pain in his voice sears Clarke more than the burning in her veins. She says, “I had no choice. What else could I have done?” 

His voice is exasperated. “Me, Clarke. One call, and you could’ve tested me.” 

“Absolutely not.” He blinks, and Clarke realizes the intensity of her voice. She tries to manage her snarl, but what does is he expect? So eager to sacrifice himself. What an idiot. 

Bellamy’s eyes narrow. “Why not?“ 

“Because our people need a leader. They need you.” 

“They need me?” A small, bitter smile pulls his lips. “Hard to believe. Considering I can’t save anyone.” 

Clarke doesn’t have the strength to punch him. So she reaches for his hand, resting beside her head. Immediately, like a reflex, his fingers engulf her own. 

“You’ve kept me alive more times than I can count,” she says. “I owe you my life, Bellamy.” 

His eyes flick away. He always seems so startled when Clarke mentions his worth, how much he means to them. To her. It never fails to surprise her how little he values himself. Her eyes land on the smudges under his eyes and she frowns again. “You need to sleep.” 

He says, “You don’t need to worry about—” 

“Yes, I do!” Clarke snaps, “You need to take care of yourself when I’m gone." 

Bellamy’s jaw tightens. She wonders if he realizes his thumb is rolling soft circles over her wrist. The gesture intoxicatingly soothing. 

He says, “Then don’t leave.” 

She doesn’t know whether it’s the way he’s looking at her, or the distinct way his voice has gone soft. But for the first time in a long time, Clarke is at a loss for words. 

Which isn’t a problem, apparently, as a sudden, vicious torrent of pain streaks down her body. Clarke cries out. 

And immediately Bellamy straightens, his face sharpening. “I’m getting your mother.” 

Clarke tightens her grip on his hand to keep him from pulling away. “No,” she says, but it’s a gasp. She knows she needs her mother. She knows she needed her the moment she woke up. But now she knows Bellamy is alive. That he is safe. And she knows that she’s scared him. In his eyes, what she’s done is unforgivable. 

Clarke chokes out, “I’m sorry.” 

She doesn’t know what he replies. If he replies. The pain is blinding, now, turning the world white at the edges. 

But through the flames, she thinks she feels warm lips press against her fingertips. 

Clarke has one coherent thought before the world turns to black: for what time they have left on this Earth, she will make Bellamy Blake come around and see how special he is.

TAZ Nanowrimo: 11/09

out of the seven of them, magnus takes it the hardest.

merle grieves for each civilization lost. davenport is angry and so, so tired. lup channels her rage into determination, and her determination into hope. taako hides resignation behind indifference until that indifference turns real. barry grows quiet and dedicates himself to work. lucretia writes down everything she can remember. 

but magnus….

magnus has failed every single world they have come across. every single person he meets, he has failed to protect. it’s six cycles in that he realizes: even when they get the light, they still can’t save a single person. their worlds are still condemned to darkness and ruin. that’s what the hunger does, even after it leaves: it gouges deep scars of despair and fear and hatred that destroy a planet’s people just as surely as thick columns of black tar.

every single person magnus has known during these cycles, he fails. 

so he writes them down.

at first it’s just names. a first name, maybe a last name when he gets lucky. 

then it becomes more. a joke. a moment. the baker who made magnus laugh so hard he pulled three muscles in his back. the drow in the sixteenth cycle who taught him to produce flames with nothing more than his hands and his weapons, to keep up with the magical folk who only needed to flick a finger. the tiefling in the forty-second who grew a cabbage in the exact shape of magnus, for no other reason than to laugh at the look of dumbfounded awe on magnus’s face when he saw it. 

soon his list of names is a list of moments, of jokes and feats of heroism and acts of sacrifice. each entry is short, but magnus pens each one himself. he learns from lucretia: how to be succinct, but convey his emotions all the same.

sometimes, when they’ve lost too many of them early on in the year and their home seems muted from the absence of their family, magnus reads and rereads his journal. he thinks lucretia could probably have memorized it by now. if he had lucretia’s head for memory, her impeccable attention to detail, he would know every single name. could recite them in order, like a poem. like an anthem to the dead. 

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Originally posted by isophhia

Ivar x reader

Warnings: dubcon

Words: 2,393

(Rate my smut =)))))))) Yeah so I was inspired to write some terrible Ivar smut after that fucking amazing trailer so here it is and I hope it doesn’t suck too hard because I am kinda new to this writing smut thing. Feedback would be greatly appreciated if any sisters can spare it. Enjoy!)

There he was; all the way across the hall, brooding atop his great throne. His chin resting lightly upon his hand as his fingers traced idly along his lips in a more seductive manner than he intended while lost in his deep, dark thoughts. He was glowering in your direction, like he always did. You found yourself quickly glancing away from the hold his dark and fiery eyes had on you. You always had a deep fascination with people’s eyes and Ivar’s wild, deep, ocean blue ones were among the most fascinating to you.

All of the terrors and bloodlust, torture and dark tendencies Ivar’s world held; those eyes had seen it all. They were stained with his own sadistic, mad and lustful thoughts; corrupted by whatever blackness had seeped into them from his calculating and tormented mind. And those same eyes now burned dangerously into the back of your head.

He had always thrown those same daggers at you with his eyes and you had not a clue why. You had made it very clear that you supported him; in every bold decision he made and every new war he would start. In fact, you made it very clear that you had eyes only for him. You would always touch his arm lightly and talk sweetly and seductively his way; you made it very clear that you wanted him. Your feared, dangerous, calculating and triumphant viking King. How could you have resisted?

You had done all you could have to shown your devotion and adoration and pure want for him and he treated you as if you were his worst and most despised enemy. You couldn’t understand it. You hated it.

“(Y/N)!” His sharp, authoritative voice called out your name; cutting through the noise of the small feast raging on around you; bringing you quickly out of your fleeting thoughts. You looked back his way. You thought you had imagined his sweet voice calling out to you but you changed your mind when you saw Ivar actually motioning for you to come over to him now. You stood there in a trance before quickly bringing yourself back into reality and rushing over to your King.

You approached him cautiously when you neared his throne. Everything about him intimidated you; a powerful aura seemed to naturally surround him. He wore a dark, hooded cloak that hid most of his face from his crowd of warriors enjoying the feast in front of him. His expressively dark eyes were the only things visible to you now; the left one much more hidden than the right due to being completely bloodshot from his recent time in battle. The dark blue mixed with the veiny crimson red only furthered your intrigue of him.

The Boneless looked you up and down, slowly. His eyes growing more and more hungry and predatory rather than hate filled as always when he looked your way. “Y-yes? King Ivar?” You stuttered your words out and mentally kicked yourself for sounding like some scared, little mouse. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground after the pathetic display. “Won’t you join me, (Y/N)?” His sweetly, sly voice inquired and your gaze shot up to meet his then. He was smirking at you under the hood but his eyes refused to match his playful grin; they still remained dark and lusty; swimming with even darker ideas that filled his mind to the brim. You could only nod before pulling your gaze away from his to spot the throne right next to his own. You began to cautiously walk towards it when you heard Ivar tsk. You looked at him to see he was shaking his head in disapproval while still grinning madly at you. “No, sit here.” He said; his voice growing dark as he lightly patted his own lap.

You were immediately taken aback by his request; you stood there, frozen. His grin disappeared just as quickly as it had formed on his face as you stood unmoving, continuing to gawk at him. “Incase you couldn’t tell, that was a command, not a suggestion, (Y/N). Obey.” This was absurd and you were confused as to why he was treating you like this all of a sudden. Was it the severe amount of mead he had consumed while perched upon his throne perhaps? Your continued lack of movement and words began to irk him and his hand then shot out to roughly grab ahold of your arm; making you cry out before pulling you onto his lap forcefully. You froze yet again and gasped when you felt his half erect length beneath the fabric of his pants under you. Some of his men turned to eye you both curiously now; some cheered in response to their King now openly feeling you up.

His rapid breaths were hot on your neck and then on your delicate ear as he leant in close to whisper something to you. “I am your King now, stupid woman. That means you must do everything I say, not stand there gawking at me like a fucking idiot at my commands. Don’t worry, i’m sure you will learn in due time.” You whimpered and felt your own breaths grow heavy as his large hand reached into the top of your dress to continue fondling your breasts. “I-Ivar, please!” You began to shakily plead with him to let you go as you weakly struggled beneath his wandering hands, but he quickly silenced you as he reached his other hand under the thin fabric of your dress to shove two thick fingers deep inside your already very wet and slick cunt.

You gasped and moaned quietly as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you all while laughing darkly into the back of your neck. His lips moved to your ear once again. “I know this is what you want, (Y/N). The way you tease me with your sweet words in front of my men and the fucking pathetically evident lust you try so desperately to conceal in your eyes whenever you look over at me.” He chuckled again as he continued to speak. “Just look at how wet you are for me already. Do you like being teased in front of all my men like this, do you? You do? fucking whore.” You squirmed and moaned even louder now as he breathlessly insulted you; his unrelenting fingers continuing to forcibly fuck you.

All of the viking warriors’ attentions were now on you. They continued to cheer and whistle and laugh at your heated predicament. “Ivar. Ivaaar, pleeease!” You tried to beg him to release you through your arousal but it only sounded like you were praising him and egging him on which caused him to pump in and out of you even faster. All of the men’s own lusty eyes were on you now as your cunt was continuously fucked by your King’s intrusive fingers; it was humiliating and wrong, but at the same time, the pleasure was overwhelming you. “Shh.” Ivar shushed you soothingly. “Who does this cunt belong to now, (Y/N)?” He pushed his two fingers further into you and held them there as he asked the question and you could only moan out his name. Ivar’s other hand quickly removed itself from your cleavage to lift up your skirts even more and smack your bare ass with brutal force. You yelped in response as tears began to well up in your eyes. “Say it properly, bitch. Say ‘my cunt belongs to my King, my cunt belongs to King Ivar.’” You opened your mouth to breathlessly speak again. “My cunt belongs to my King, my cunt belongs to King Ivar.” You echoed his words with a moan. Ivar seemed to echo your own moan then too in response to your submissive words.

“You are mine.” He moaned again through his words as he began thrusting into you.
Ivar then suddenly pulled his hand out from under your skirts, making you whine and fucking hate yourself for wanting this public debasement to actually continue on. “Open that pretty mouth of yours, (Y/N).” Despite everything, you obeyed your King; under his mind numbing power completely now.

Ivar pushed his two fingers into your mouth this time; letting you taste yourself mixed with the taste of the calloused, salty skin of his own fingertips. “Good. You’re learning. Very good.” He breathlessly praised you as his erect cock only became more pronounced under you in response to your obedience, making your eyes roll back. You moaned behind his fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” Ivar commanded and you obeyed. Sucking his fingers dry of your wetness. He soon forced a third one into your mouth and you continued to lick and suck on all three digits; completely overcome with your arousal now; it was like no one else was in the room, just you and Ivar, in this moment. “How cute, (Y/N) has probably touched herself many times while dreaming of finally choking on my cock.” Ivar announced in a mocking voice to the men in the room as you continued to submissively suck on his fingers. They all laughed in response and you could feel your face reddening from the shame and the realisation that you and Ivar were in fact not the only ones in the room.

You pulled away from his digits then and gained enough courage from your sudden rage to spit directly in his face. He immediately stopped laughing along with them all and growled as he pushed you harshly off of his lap and onto the floor. Wiping away the spit now in his eyes, he looked down at you with that same fire once again. “Now you are right where you belong, (Y/N). At my feet, on the floor like a good little pet.” He concluded with another grin and a dangerously sweet expression before quickly returning back to that same glare; taking the chance to spit down into your own face. They all laughed again as you desperately tried to wipe his spit from your face. “Fuck you!” You screamed up at him now, enraged. “Be good, and I might just fuck you, pet.” The laughter only grew louder; ringing in your ears. Tears continued to form in your eyes.

Ivar stopped laughing then before giving you yet another command in a dark voice still laced heavily with lust. “Crawl between my legs and take my cock like a good bitch now. It is your King’s command.” You hated how the debasing order seemed to turn you on even more. He was treating you lower than a fucking dog; you should have hated him and instead, you were a shaking, aroused, hot mess for him. “Don’t make me ask again.” Ivar growled down at you. His intense, hungry and bloodshot eyes dared you to even think about disobeying under the blackness of the hood. You refused to move until he lunged forward and roughly grabbed ahold of your hair, making you cry out as he forced you to crawl on all fours towards the enticing looking bulge in his pants. He carelessly undid the braces around his legs while still tightly holding a fistful of your hair; holding you in place. You whimpered and hated the now growing, sharp pain in the back of your head from his hold on you.

Ivar threw the braces to the side of his throne and began to undo his pants next; breathing heavily and cursing under his breath as he fought to undo his belt with one hand, through his own arousal. Finally undoing it, throwing it also to the side and forcing his pants down enough to just expose his fully erect cock to you, he continued to pull you in then, right onto his member. He forced his length all the way into your mouth; hitting the back of your throat without warning and making you gag and sputter around him. His hand remained tangled in your now matted hair as he forced your head upright to stare into his lust filled, dangerous eyes. You moaned behind his cock and let your tongue begin to glide up and down his length a bit. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off of mine.” Ivar growled before beginning to thrust in his chair into you; fucking your mouth violently.

Tears streamed down your face as he kept fucking your throat; grunting and growling like an animal all the while. His now almost black eyes threatened to roll back into his head at any moment as he continued to stare intensely into your own eyes as if it were the most important thing in the world; to hold your gaze. A huge, predatory smile was plastered on his face all the while. He was close; you prayed this overly harsh treatment of your throat would end soon. Your eyes blurred his image above you as tears continued to fill them. Ivar leant down and used his other hand to harshly grab ahold of your jaw, pulling you closer to his face, and his eyes. “Don’t take your eyes off of me!” He warned again, breathless and crazed looking. You obeyed. And soon enough, he released his warm seed directly into your mouth.

He pulled out and removed the hand at the back of your head to cover your mouth. “Swallow it.” He commanded and you obeyed. Swallowing down his salty seed. You felt it travel down the inside of your throat, taking place deep inside your stomach. You moaned and closed your eyes as his hands still held your face. Your hot breaths were heavy and you longed for your own release. “Very good. Good bitch.” Ivar praised you before releasing your jaw and mouth from his rough grip and doing his pants up again. He reached down, grabbed both your arms and pulled you up into his lap for a second time; cradling you now in his own arms. His face was real close to yours as he continued to seemingly stare into your own soul. This time, his hand soothingly petted your hair as he leant in to whisper in your ear again. “Go wait for me. I’m not even fucking close to being finished with you.”

Addewid (IV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Kai (Jongin)

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,703

Summary: You cannot appeal to my better nature, for I have none. I am not human, little one.”

You’ve always known you were different. You’re able to see them, after all, able to see the Others. You’ve also always ignored them. Until the day comes where you’re forced to make a choice - one that throws your world into chaos. And sends you down a path you might never return from.

Originally posted by kimjongkaissoo

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Professor - four.
  • Baekhyun x Reader
  • Angst - Professor!AU
  • Word count: 1535

Description: You finally gave what Baekhyun wanted, sex. Now he should leave you alone, or so you thought.

A/N: Just a little angsty filler chapter to hold over. More like me stalling because I’m not sure how I want to end this yet. I feel like the end is near though. IT CAN’T BE HELPED.

one. // two. // three. // four. // five. (soon)

Originally posted by baekhyunsama

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